The art, adventures, wit (or lack thereof), verse, ramblings, lyrics, stories, rants & raves of Christopher R. Bakunas
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas at Luche Libre Taco Shop in San Diego, March 2012
Tuesday, September 30, 2025
The Question Answered Itself
Monday, September 29, 2025
Sunday, September 28, 2025
Reasons To Be Grateful, Number 36,899
Just moments after this picture was taken the drivers of both vehicles (who were both unhurt) walked over to one another and gave each other a hug. Like, a "It could have been so much worse" hug.
Advice & Insight From A Former Meth Addict Who Liked To Play The Slots
"See, if you have enough money to go to the casino for a few hours, you have to buy your sack first. Because if you don't you'll be leaving the casino broke and that means you won't have any money to buy dope, and you will definitely want dope because you are broke."
Riot Fest Chicago 2025 Day 3
Saturday, September 27, 2025
Riot Fest Chicago 2025 Day 2
Yes, John Stamos, Uncle Jessie his own bad self. Riot Fest had been engaged in a quirky, funny feud with Stamos since jokingly inviting him to play a reunion show with his (fictional) band Jessie and the Rippers (from the show Full House & Fuller House) back in 2013 - an invite he did not respond too, which led to over a decade of nettling and teasing from Riot Fest folks that became part of the festival's quirky personality.
This year however saw the hatchet buried (with conditions that included a John Stamos look-alike concert, Riot Mike getting a Stamos tattoo, and the creation of a Greek-style pizza named after him, the Stamos Supreme, by a Chicago-area restaurant).
Friday, September 26, 2025
Riot Fest Chicago 2025 Day 1
Harrison Gordon impressed Then there was this guy...that makes two Goatwhore fans I know
Wednesday, September 24, 2025
No Brain Use Day
Tuesday, September 23, 2025
Thursday, September 18, 2025
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
Sara & Sarah & Their Husband Dan
He was packing for his thrice-a-month three day visit to the Northeast region locations when his wife walked in and announced that their son Lenny, the oldest of their four children, had told her just before he left for school that morning that he had been invited to join a traveling theater troupe for the summer.
He looked up and after a brief pause asked her, "Do you think he's ready to spend three months on the road doing summer stock?"
She neither shook nor nodded her head, simply replying, "I don't know - He's following his dream just as we've always encouraged him to do - we can't say no now, can we?"
"I'll think about it when I'm in Pittsburgh, I've got too much on my mind right now. My Uber should be here in a few minutes and I still have to get the stupid app to pull up my confirmed reservation on the phone. I'll only be gone three days Sara, he knows I like to think things through. Can you let him know we'll have an answer for him when I get back?"
"Okay, but he sounded like it wasn't asking for permission, just telling me as a courtesy."
"He's still under 18 Sara and will still need our permission. Just tell him it's a matter we have to seriously think about for a few days - he's a smart kid, he'll understand."
As he finished speaking his phone started vibrating and he saw that his driver had arrived. He zipped up his small case and picked it up from the bed. "I have to jet Hon, I'll text you when I arrive in Pittsburgh."
"Okay, don't forget this time, you know I worry."
"Promise I won't, tell the kids we will go out to Baratta's when I get back."
Dan made his way down the front stairs and out to the waiting car where the driver stood by the open trunk. With one deft move the casually dressed young woman took the case from him and placed it inside and closed the trunk as Dan slid into the back seat.
Almost four hours later Dan was standing outside the Landside Terminal with the carry-on at his feet, patiently waiting for his ride. The flight had been uneventful as usual, and he had spent most of it in casual conversation with the woman in the seat next to him, a widowed grandmother going to see her grandchildren in Canonsburg.
He felt relaxed, comfortable, and happy to be where he was. An older model dark burgundy Chevrolet Yukon soon pulled up directly in front of him. The front passenger side window rolled down and from the driver's side a woman called out, "Put your bag in the rear seat, I have groceries in the back." Dan did as instructed and then took the front passenger's seat."
"Hi Babe, miss me?" the woman behind the wheel stated as she leaned toward him for a kiss. Once the quick kiss was shared Dan replied, "Of course, always do" as he locked the seat belt in place."
The woman put the SUV in gear and signaled to merge into the left lane marked with a large "Exit" sign. "The kids are excited to see you Dan, especially Gleason - she can't wait to read to you from her new favorite book - she is turning into quite the little scholar."
Dan smiled as he adjusted the temp for his side of the vehicle. "Just like her mother I imagine - smart as a whip and a joy to be around."
"Why thank you Mr. Garver, from both of us. Going to be a fun weekend!"
"Yes it will Sarah, yes it will - and a nice recharge for me before I have to go back to the grind in Des Moines on Monday.
Stating that reminded Dan he needed to text Sara he had arrived safely in Pittsburgh and he pulled out his phone to do so. Sarah turned her head as he did so and Dan quipped, "Gotta remind Sean to check my front porch on Saturday, expected a delivery from Amazon that didn't make it by this morning and Porch Pirates have become the scourge of Des Moines lately."
Sarah nodded her head in agreement, saying, "Yep, a couple of the neighbors have been victimised here, too. The holidays bring 'em out like ants to a picnic."
The couple continued to share small talk as Sarah drove southeast on the 30, and Dan relished the half-hour of stress-free, uninterrupted conversation, a very welcome respite from the stressful surreptitiousness of their weekday conversations.
Two young children ran excitedly out of the front door when Sarah pulled into the driveway. Big beaming smiles greeted their father as Dan stepped out of the vehicle.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" They both exclaimed as Dan bent down to receive them into his wide-open arms. "Come here you two munchkins!" Dan shouted in reply, grasping them tightly as they filled his arms.
The excitement, joy, and energy of that greeting seemed to last the entire three days of his stay. Each morning he and Sarah were awakened by Gleason and Blaine jumping onto their bed and bouncing around the both of them until they got out of bed and allowed the two to lead them downstairs in order to get breakfast going. And each morning he swore to himself he wouldn't trade anything in the world for that experience.
However, each day he also was reminded of his other obligation by either a text or a voicemail from Sara or one of the four children he shared with her. They all knew by now that he was always dreadfully busy when he was away and learned not to expect immediate responses, if a response at all, yet they all persisted in the odd text message and/or voicemail regardless.
Over the years he had only received one message that was of a serious enough urgency that he had to reply with haste, but as luck would have it he was out of the house at the hardware store when he had to return that message with an actual phone call, and it required not much more than twenty minutes of his time to resolve the small crisis.
The morning of the last day went just like all the mornings all the last days had gone over the past few years. The kids begged him to stay at least one more day, and Sarah again broached the subject of him quitting the job in Des Moines and finding a job in Pittsburgh so he could be with his family full time.
Dan was an expert at deflecting the questions Sarah asked and had long ago let her know he was only going to leave the company when his retirement was fully vested and they would be financially secure.
Sarah, who had chosen to be a stay at home Mom at least until Blaine was a senior in high school, begrudgingly accepted the situation, and had long ago realised that her relationship with Dan was far better than what most of her friends had with their husbands - distance, she repeated to herself as if it were a mantra, does indeed make the heart grow fonder.
As Dan packed up his suitcase for the trip back to Des Moines it occurred to him that he had not thought of an answer to the Lenny situation that Sara had gifted him with just before he had left for Pittsburgh. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, "why does life have to be so complicated?"
Monday, September 15, 2025
The Right Place, The Right Time, The Right...Luck
Recently had yet another conversation with a friend who does not believe in luck.
Not win the lottery or miss a flight that crashes into the ocean sort of luck - he ironically believes in that sort of luck - in our conversation we were discussing whether or not luck plays a major role in being successful in a profession or field of endeavor.
Luck, he proclaimed (as have several other friends and acquaintances) has very little to do with a person's level of success in any given profession, and is usually an excuse that people who do not want to put in the time, effort, and energy needed to accomplish something use as a reason they are not able to do what billions of other people have done for millennia to achieve great things.
My counter was similar to my standard counter regarding conversations of this ilk. First off, I clarified that billions of people have not achieved great things throughout the course of human history. It is more likely to be in the thousands - maybe the hundred thousands, tops.
And that number depends completely on how "great things" are defined. IMHO, "great things" has to have a very high bar.
The general consensus as to what constitutes "great things" by an individual, at least according to the WWW, is that of being successful in at an endeavour at a level that less than 10% of those who attempt that same endeavour achieve. I disagree with that assessment, as I believe that the bar for "great things" is more like a level of .0001% of those that attempt the same endeavour.
It's a claim that is fairly easy to back up. Let's use a common indicator of success for a profession such as becoming a best-selling author. There have been millions of books written over the years (Google estimates that by 2010, at least 130 million books had been written) by millions of authors.
The New York Times started keeping track of best sellers on their NYT best sellers list in 1931. Know how many of the millions of books published in the first 50 years of the existence of the list reached number one?
484. That's four hundred and eighty-four. 16 less than 500. Factor in that writers such as Harold Robbins, Agatha Christie, Earle Stanley Gardner, & Irving Wallace had multiple #1 best sellers in those first 50 years, and it readily becomes apparent that achieving the level of greatness as defined by being at the top of the NYT best seller list is an incredibly rare accomplishment.
So why do I think that luck plays any part in a field such as writing books that become NYT best sellers?
Simple. For starters, the authors of every book that reached #1 had the good fortune to be born in a time and place where education was on offer, if not compulsory at least available, and everyone of those authors had the good fortune to have means to take advantage of those educational opportunities, whether they wanted to or not.
Second, the DNA that each of those authors inherited from their ancestors included the genes that formed creative imaginations and the compulsion to tell stories. And not just any stories, stories that grabbed the attention of strangers and compelled them to want to read them, and not just read them, but to buy them, own them as possessions.
That significance cannot be understated. As someone once said, there are a million stories in the big city...however, how many are actually interesting enough to put down on paper and be marketable is a whole 'nother...story.
I'll concede that writing a book can be chalked up to being a diligent student and acquiring a decent education (that includes learning the necessary elements of credible story telling), being able to put one's nose to the grindstone, and avoiding or effectively dealing with the distractions of everyday life, but to be able to do all that and not only get a publisher to want to print up 10,000 copies of that book, market it properly, and find a readership that will pony up the cash to buy it...well, that takes more than just a little luck. It takes a boatload, a large boatload.
I'll also concede that persevering through all the rejection notices and disinterest is a factor in a writers success, but perseverance is something that an individual has to either inherit or be taught.
Is stubbornness a product of nature or nurture? Discuss.
Now, one of the other aspects of my belief that luck is a major factor in success is that in any field of endeavour there is the very real possibility that one can be extraordinarily good at what they are doing, but what they are doing is not only not marketable, it is unnecessary.
For example, I have a friend who was one of the top ten airbrush artists in the commercial art field throughout the '80's and '90's. His talents/abilities were in constant demand. Over the last twenty years though, the need for airbrush artists dried up thanks to graphic imaging programs that can duplicate what he is able to do in 1/10 the time and expense.
Not being willing or able to learn the new way of creating commercial art, he made a career transition in the mid 2000's that allows him to earn a comfortable living (as an autobody repairman specialising in painting repaired cars), but he's nowhere near as successful (or happy) as he was when he was one of the kings of airbrush illustration.
Yeah, it's a stretch to use an accomplished airbrush artist as an example of someone who achieved great things, but it's undeniable in his chosen profession he did - then luck factored in...
There are so many more arguments that could be made that illustrate my point about how luck, good or bad, factors into one's ability to achieve success, especially on the "great things" level, they would (and do) becomes tiresome to the point of moot stultification.
So I will end this little rant with an agreement that it is necessary to work hard, to be dedicated and to persist to be successful...but to achieve "great things" ? That's where a bit of luck, or more likely, a great chunk of luck, is also needed.
Friday, September 12, 2025
The Senseless & The Senselessness
Yesterday marked 24 years since Islamic terrorists hijacked 4 passenger planes and used them to commit suicide attacks that decimated the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City, damaged the Pentagon building in Virginia, and sent a Boeing 757-200 into a field in Shanksville, Pa. The four co-ordinated attacks resulted in the deaths of 3,192 innocent people and injuries to as many as 25,000.
I intended to post this memorial of the event yesterday, but other events transpired that gave me pause, and so I decided to wait until today.
This memorial features the 9/11 memorial that the people of Columbus, Nebraska erected in 2003 to honor the victims of the attack. I was in Columbus a few months back and chanced upon it in the town's Pawnee Park.
I was struck by the stark simplicity of the memorial, which (to me) rendered it incredibly effective as far as memorials to man's inhumanity to man goes.
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