If you’re like me, sometimes you get caught up in the everyday stress of life. Family, friends, work, the kids–all sources of grief at one time or another. My reaction to stress may be typical, but my method of dealing with stress is anything but!
Recognize this face and angelic halo of hair? This, my friends, is the man who erases my stress with his mellifluous voice and sedate manner. Bob Ross, I love you. Yes, I know Bob has passed and is now painting his “happy little trees” from a loftier locale, but I’m doing my civic duty by singing his praises for those who might not be in-the-know (ITK).
Bob and I go waaay back. My family and I discovered him on PBS back when I was a surly teenager. We were immediately sucked in by this oil painting Svengali, peace and harmony descending on us as if clouds of valium fumes flowed through our home’s duct work.
Bob could conjure mountains majesty, snow dusted evergreens, babbling brooks, secret cottages, and of course, happy little trees, at a moment’s notice.
These days, when things get tough at work or with my family, I simply pop over to Youtube and watch a video (or ten) of The Joy of Painting. Just hearing him murmur ‘titanium white’ (in that special way of his) is enough to erase all the tension from my neck and shoulders.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I had a difficult day at work and need to dose myself with some Bob.
Bob Ross stressed me out!
Having to watch him create those ugly cookie-cutter paintings and see him not care how bad they were was torture. His vaunted calmness and quiescence always seemed like a put-on to me, unlike, say, the genuine (if slightly creepy) sangfroid of Fred Rogers. I never had any trouble imagining Bob Ross one day snapping, shaving off his frizzy ‘fro, climbing a tower, and picking off people with a sniper rifle.*
Then again, coffee makes me sleepy.
(*colorful image swiped from Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential)
cwg says: panny…i have a feeling if i say the sun rises in the east, you’ll disagree just for sport. xoxo
Sometimes I’m agreeable. Not a knee-jerk contrarian.
cwg says: i’m just teasing you, sport.
It’s your world, Natalie, you can do whatever you want. Read a happy little book. Snooze on a comfy sofa cloud. Remind me of how much I love Bob Ross.
Now where is my masseuse?
Ahhh, yellow ocre. My brother and I loved watching him…or at least have fond memories of it
this is one of those times where a few facial expressions are needed…I loved Hayden’s comment above…it’s your world Natalie, hahahaha, must be why I visit it so often! I LOVED Mr. Rogers although the mailman, Mr. McFeely creeped me out!
P.S. besides who doesn’t love an afro…something extremely happy about that style!!!
Oh, and Natawurly?
It’s a geocentric fallacy to say the sun rises in the east, since the Earth orbits the sun. La, la, la.
natawulry: *stab, stab, stab*
panny: (screaming and squirting blood)
This is getting less zen by the minute.
natawurly says: oh, for the love of god. i have an airtight alibi for this weekend. how did my zen post spiral so out of control? oh, that’s right…panny DID IT.
I never thought to YouTube Bob!
Although, I have to admit that I always found his program a little stressful. It was always 28-minutes of “why is he doing that?! too much brown, Bob! TOO MUCH BROWN!!” followed by one minute of him somehow managing to come up with a totally normal-looking painting that I could never, ever do myself.
Maybe Bob Ross wore his hair in a big frizzy afro to hide his devil horns?
natawurly: does this explain your distaste for flip flops? trying to conceal your cloven hooves, perhaps?
I too love Bob Ross and can occasionally catch a show on Saturday mornings between kiddie cartoons.
And I have always wanted a ‘fro-always.
Loved watching Bob Ross. His happy trees, titanium white, and vandyke brown.
It made me flinch when he had a perfect landscape going…then stuck what seemed like a random cabin right where it shouldn’t be.
Once the painting was done, it was perfect….and I couldn’t imagine it without that silly little cabin.
Soothing and suspenseful…what more can a girl ask for in a TV show?
re: flip-flops, I grew up at the beach. If I wasn’t barefoot I was wearing flip-flops, or ‘thongs’ as we called them. And I was talking about Bob Ross, not me, not me.
cwg says: i know you were talking about bob re: horns. i was just thinking that maybe you’re projecting your own flaws on bob. better tuck that tail back into your jeans.
Why would I ever do such a thing? Project, I mean. The tail stays out.
[To self:] Well, I think I injected enough diversionary chaos and general mayhem into these comments to ensure that Bob Ross will never be associated with anything remotely zen-like. [clap-cleaning hands]
cwg *chokes down a handful of valium*
good times..
Wow, so THIS is what happens when I don’t come back to check on the post comments until the next day!