Bob Wilber grew up aspiring to follow in his father’s baseball footsteps, and while he was able to secure a full college scholarship and later spend parts of six years in professional ball, as a player, coach, and scout, his mother’s writing, communications, and public relations skills were what eventually defined his career. After a successful and adventurous sports-marketing trek through the sports-apparel business, agency work, and professional indoor soccer, he saw his first drag race as he closed in on his 40th birthday. Little did he know that he’d go on to spend 20 consecutive years as a team manager and PR representative for Del Worsham and then Tim Wilkerson, two of the most popular Funny Car drivers on the NHRA tour. At the conclusion of the 2015 season, Bob ended his drag racing run in order to take on an important personal assignment. Over the course of 2016 he wrote his autobiography, entitled “Bats, Balls, & Burnouts” and submitted it to the publisher in early February. It was released in late May, 2017 and is available on Amazon.com and other major online book retailers, in both printed and digital formats.

Back At It
Oct 17, 2019   //   by bwilber

Greetings blog faithful. I apologize for the weeklong gaps we’ve had to go through lately, including this past week when it took me more time than usual to fully get over the jet lag after three weeks on Kauai. It’s not that hard going west. You just power through the long flights and get there in the afternoon, island time. If you can stay up until 9:00 you’re on your way. Eastbound, though, is a different story. Those red-eye flights back to the mainland are not fun, especially for a guy who rarely sleeps on overnight flights. That guy would be me.

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Aloha One Last Time. Homeward Bound Tomorrow
Oct 3, 2019   //   by bwilber

This will be one of the shorter blog I’ve ever written, but I just wanted to check in and give you all an update. Tomorrow is our final day on Kauai, with an 8:00 pm red-eye flight to Seattle and then an early morning connection to Minneapolis. It’s been an incredible trip, and Barbara has been here since Sunday, so the fun level has been off the chart. I’m also just posting random photos in no particular order, just to give you more visuals of The Garden Isle.

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Aloha, Yet Again.
Sep 19, 2019   //   by bwilber

I’m sorry for the late posting of this Thursday Blog Day installment, but I’m five time zones away. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. I’m on a smallish island, out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It’s a fun place called Kauai and I’ve been here since last Friday. This is one of those places were time flies and the days go by in a blur. Can’t believe this is my seventh day on The Garden Isle, but I still have two more weeks to go.

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What A Loss. You Just Never Know
Sep 12, 2019   //   by bwilber

It seems like every single day of the year is now the “Official Day” of something, whether it be National Dog Day, Cat Day, or whatever. Yesterday was “National Suicide Awareness Day.” Every single day of each year should wear that moniker. I know. I just experienced it and I’m still grappling with it and trying to process the whole thing. If you’ve never gone through being on this side of a friend’s suicide, you can’t imagine it. As of Sunday until around 12 noon, I couldn’t imagine it.

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Backtracking Through Time
Sep 5, 2019   //   by bwilber

Time. It is, simultaneously, both a concept and a scientific fact. In our world, at least for those of us who aren’t super-advanced scientists who speculate and hypothesize about the flexibility (or even the reality) of the concept of linear time, it’s just what marks our minutes, hours, days, and calendars. It’s when we get up, it’s when we go to school or work, and it’s how we know the weekend is here. It is consistently perfect. There are always 60 minutes in an hour. Well, except for that aberration in the time/space continuum known as high school algebra class, when time would slow to a crawl or seem to cease movement altogether. And those other moments in time, like the last two weeks of summer before going back to school, when the clock and the days would accelerate into warp drive and each hour passed in what seemed like a blink. But time, like the hands on a fine watch, really just marches forward at the same pace. It’s weird, I know.

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