From The Desk Of Bob America: When I was a little kid, all I could dream about was playing Major League Baseball. I used to love Pete Rose. He was a nasty bastard with the nose of a bulldog and a headfirst slide like a bulldozer. I could relate, unfortunately, unlike ARod, I peaked as a baseball player at the age of 9, and the laws of physics and gravity eventually won over. But hell, you got to play the hand you’re dealt, right? Something else happened in my childhood that would change my life forever and set the stage for this moment.... In 1980 my dad was obsessed with the rapidly evolving entertainment technology. He was the first to get HBO, the first to get sued for stealing HBO and, one evening he brought home this crazy contraption called a Video Disc Player, the vinyl predecessor to the laser disc. It looked like a giant turntable housed in a box that looked Buck Rogers’ space ship. One of the first movies we sat on the couch and watched was Neil Diamond’s “The Jazz Singer,” which to me as a young child looked totally opposite to Pete Rose, and very gay in a Broadway sort of way, but man, when those strings hit the first chord of “America,” I was spiked, the fuzzy feeling shot up my spine and my head exploded in a mental orgasm.... MUSIC.... Yeah... what the hell is that? The feeling never left and it’s kept me reaching for that feeling, that sound, for you, for me, and for everything in between. So here it is, the big dream, the one that kept me alive. Uncensored and Super Real, this is the first installment of the story of Bob America. To the Moon! Bob America