All in Fun

From time to time, I exchange barbs with Bobbe Edmonds, a young silat teacher in Washington state, who is also a computer guy and a writer, as well as a devotee of stale foreign beers, zombies, and curry.

Sometimes these exchanges seem, well, harsh, to people who don't know that we are just playing. A variation on doin' the dozens, in which the players rag on each other in a juvenile form of one-upsmanship.

Real men don't hug each other, they punch each other on the shoulders and make manly-jokes. Lonesome Dove tells it like it is.

I just wanted to set the record straight, for those who might not notice that the tones and tenors of these conversations are tongue-in-cheek. Bobbe really is a sweet fellow ... and here is a picture I borrowed from Jay Carstensen's site to prove it.

I believe it captures the essence of the man perfectly. That's Bobbe, on the left.

(Yo, Kid -- You should have known this was going to come back to haunt you. It was like a gift from the gods: Hey, Steve, look, we know you don't need the ammo, but, we were bored and so, well ... here you go ...)

Game, set, and match ...