Jacobs around the world

To prove how well known we Jacobs are, I have provided copies of some notable magazines that have featured us in their fine publications.

Have your Mysteries Answered here

That's right, you can have the answers to the perplexing life connundrums that are all about you. Just leave a comment for Bob the Wise, and your request shall be granted. Comments Will be answered promptly in the "Deep Thoughts" section of the blog. So let's hear from yall.

The Ghost Piper of Inverness

The mist of darkness began to descend over the field of battle. The moor was strewn with the bodies of the fallen highlanders. It had not gone well for them, and now the forces of the English were continuing their bloody gluttony. Among the fallen was Angus P. McDonald of the Clan Donald. He was the piper last to fall, and was laying in a bloody pool of agony, from a cannon ball that had ripped away his lower abdomen and half of his insides. He was young, merely 22, and his mind raced with thoughts of his home and loved ones. Raising up on one elbow, the agony was intense, but he had to see what was happening. His eyes took in the horror. His friends and clan members were being butchered one by one, by the blood crazed English soldiers.

The anger began to well up within him, and in defiance he lashed out against the unfeeling God that had abandoned him. "Ach, I am agin thee, and shall nae be bound by thee", he screamed. "I'll no gie in tae the likes o' these, I will hae my revenge, and no force shall stay my hand". As he breathed out his last vengeful words, he heard the last sound, that of a discharging rifle, and all went black as coal. The battle was over, but not the war.

Shamus and Liam often played down on the moor, but never this late in the evening. The sun was waning deep in the sky and night was falling. It had been over two hundred and sixty two years now, since the famed Battle of Culloden, and the moor was a graveyard. No one ever came here in the late hours, because of the legend, but the two boys were young, and full of the bravado that so often accompanies such an age. Though the signs clearly stated that they were not to stray from the paved path, they could not help pretending they were participants in the fateful battle, enacted so long ago. "Hey, I had you", exclaimed Shamus. "You can't dodge a rifle bullet". "Can so, and I even blocked it with ma trusty Claymore", retorted Liam. Just then both boys heard the faint sound of hard soles scuffling along a cement path. It was fairly dark, and they could not make out from whence the sound was coming, but they both decided that perhaps it was time to call it a night, and head home. After all, there was the Legend, and even though they did not really believe it, it was getting a little creepy.

A neat path ran around the gravestones that marked the fallen highlanders, and which indicated the Clan to which they belonged. It was April 16th, and it was the anniversary eve of that fateful night so long ago. According to many of the old timers, the Legend was as true as life itself. It spoke of a cursed soul that had so offended God, that he was doomed to walk the land, and live the life of the undead. They claimed, that this soul would haunt the hills and moors around Inverness, and take his unholy revenge upon any and all he would find, that dared to be out on his moor. Indeed, there had been many unexplained disappearances over the years, but most of the residents thought nothing of the legend, and dismissed it as an old man's superstition.

So it was with Shamus and Liam. These two lads of 13 were not to worried about legends, but the thought of getting caught by the security of the Moor did put the fear in to them. They slowly and quietly made their way back to the path, and began their way home, when they heard a sound that made their hearts jump. It sounded like the faint tones of the bagpipes. "Did ya hear that, Liam?", Shamus asked. "Aye, I did. Maybe it is just a piper out for a wee blaw on his pipes", responded Liam. As they strained their eyes to see the source of the sound, it began to grow louder, as though a piper was walking toward them. Fear gripped them, and their feat were glued in place. "I kinae move", exclaimed Liam. "We have tae git oot a here, fast", countered Shamus. And so they both turned to run.

As they did, the ran into a figure tall and dark. They both toppled to the ground from the impact, and struggled to gain some position from which they could see. As they looked up, there was a tall dark menacing figure in front of them, They let out a mild shriek, and clung to each other. "What hae we here?", boomed a deep voice. It was the night security guard, his flashlight illuminated both of the boys. "Yu stupid brats, what ye deen hea so late. I aught tae flog ya both. Now git frae here, afore I kick both ya arses!", he spit out menacingly. The boys stumbled back and gained their feet. Fear had taken over and all they could do was gape with open mouths. They were about tae leave, when a shadow appeared behind the night guard. "For clan and Kin!", hissed the shadow, and a huge claymore came crashing down on the night guard. The apparition's blade caught the unsuspecting guard at his left collar bone, and cleaved his torso virtually in two. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, and a low gurgling sound emitted from the surprised guard's throat. He fell to his knees and then to his face in a ever growing pool of blood. Behind him the boys could make out the form of the Ghostly Piper. His hideous visage was draped with a tattered clan tartan, and his chest was bare, with half of the abdomen gaping wide, revealing the landscape behind him. His face was rotting flesh and decaying bone. His eyes, were gone, and his empty sockets glowed red as fire. Raising his claymore high, he hissed, "My vow I've kept, and ye are no more".

Shamus and Liam, quivered with fear and waited for what appeared to be their turn. The banshee slowly lowered the Claymore, and returned it to the sheath strapped to it's back. With a ghoulish sigh, he raised the blowpipe to his lips, and hissed a vile green vapor into the gnarled old pipes that he had positioned on his shoulder. The bag filled, and sound began to hiss forth from the rotted old drones. Slowly the ghoulish piper turned and vanished into the night, while the eerie strains of an old Pìobaireachd melody followed after.

While Shamus and Liam swore it was the truth, their parents just scolded them for their disobedience, and sent them to their beds. The papers reported that a security guard had been found dead, the vicim of a brutal hit and run accident. No investigation was ever conducted, and the case was closed. But what happened that night was known to two, and to this day, the pipes can still be heard, late at night, but who dares to enter the moor? None there be, and the piper plays on.

Deep Thoughts by Piper Bob

There are things in life that are deep, and unfathomable. I seek to explore these mysteries and hopefully provide valuable insights that will be of assistance to a new generation of knowledge seekers. Each week, uh or month, or whenever I can get around to it, I will share a perplexing mystery and then provide insights that only I can share. So without further adieu, here is the first perplexing mystery of life that I will shed light upon.

What is the cause of Adolescent Attitude?

We have all seen the signs. "Shane, could you please empty the dishwasher?", asks a patient loving mother. "In a minute! Sheesh!", replies the saucy teen in an irritating annoyed whine, as though she had been nagging him for hours and he had finally reached his limit. How about the twenty year old that should be attending college, and making his way in the world, but instead feels it is his duty to make sure his parents aren't lonely. So he has decided to live at home, but wait, he is never home is he, hmmm, oh well.

What is it that turns adorable children, into ego maniacal monsters, bent on self fulfillment only, and devoid of rational thought. This is a question that has kept the wise men guessing for years. When Cesar approached Plato to ask why his son kept stealing the chariot and leaving it on the sand dunes with the horses missing, Plato had no intelligent response. When Nero was frustrated at his daughter's fixation of dating the son of the mongol lord, he approached Socrates, and asked why. Socrates simply said, "Like sands from the hourglass, so are the days of our lives"

Well, I have done what the wise me could not. Wise men? Wise guys more like it. I have conducted my own top secret investigation and I have discovered the cause for myself. here are my findings.

Late at night, on the eve of my youngest son's 13th birthday, I secreted myself in a dark corner of his room to test a theory I have been working on. I have surmised, through keen intellect and deductive reasoning, that there must be some being from another realm, that comes and affects some change on or youth. Perhaps it is a ghoulish joke, perhaps an evil specter is exacting his cruel revenge on parents because he is unable to achieve the bliss of such filial offspring. Regardless, there I was, in the corner, feeling like I might be sacrificing a much needed night of repose in vain. Then it happened.

It started as a faint blue glow emanating from the far wall opposite my son's bed. The glow gradually increased until it was a blinding slit of white light, that went from the floor to the ceiling. Suddenly, the slit of light began to part; much like someone parting a curtain to allow entrance to a room. Through the slit, appeared a small leg, then another, and then the rest of the small visage became visible. It stood about three feet tall, and had hair that ran down to the ground and completely covered his fat rotund body. From the top protruded a bulbous nose, and gnarly green teeth. Two beady eyes completed the ghastly mug. He wore a tee shirt that said, "Got Fairy?" on the front. He wreaked of some odor that I could not put my finger on, but it was foul. I finally had seen enough, I jumped to my feet and confronted the little troll.

Stop, I whispered. What are you doing here? In a raspy guttural voice it said, "I am the Poop Fairy. I am here to do that which I always do, that which must be done, and that which you are powerless to stop me from doing". And with that he raised his hand and out of his finger a blue arching flame hit me and pinned me to the wall. I was immediately engulfed in the paralyzing flame, and had to watch helplessly, as I could not move a muscle. A sort of paralyzed state. What I saw will ever be etched in my memory. The fairy approached my son, and with what seemed to be a surgical tool, he made an incision in the upper part of his brain, and removed the upper part of his head. With a quick stroke, he extracted my son's brain and quickly placed it into a pack he had brought with him. from the same pack he extracted a foul smelling lump of something. Noooooo! I screamed, but the blue flame that held me bound, prevented most of the sound from being heard. It did catch the fairy's attention though, and he turned and gave me a menacing grin. Back he turned, and he placed the foul smelling lump where Shane's brain used to reside.

Suddenly I recognized that pungent odor. I had smelled it so many times, while visiting the farms in and around Albany, with my father. It was Cow Excrement. Before this thought had even fully congealed in my brain, the fairy had done his work. Shane's head was back together, without even the slightest scar. and the fairy was making his way back to his bright doorway.

Before he left, and in some bizarre attempt at compassion, he turned to me and said, in that same raspy voice, "Don't get ya shorts all in a bundle. I always return with the brain when the kid turns 20. Ya see, a mind is a terrible thing to waste, so we let other, more deserving folk use this brain for a while. A kind of, Rent a Noggin, program, if you will. I'll bring this kid's noodle back, don't worry". And with that he was gone, and the blue flame that had held me bound, suddenly released me and I fell, like a sack of potatoes, to the ground.

Shane woke with a start, "Dad! What are you doing in my room!" Alas, I knew what had happened, and my Hypothesis had been proven. So now you know the truth as well. Therein is the answer to this perplexing question, posed above. Hope this has been informative, and helpful. Stay tuned for another installment of,

Deep Thoughts. Ta Ta

Bear Lake, Land of Fun

Off we went to brave the wilds of Northern Utah. First it was to Jake Kennard's Homecoming and then off to fun and sun in the great Bearius lakeius. But first, a stop in Logan to view the wonderful Logan Berry festival. Oh what a wonderful time. We were accomodated in the most luxurious of fair by Tyler and Tatianna. We almost got lost in the spacious rooms of their luxurious apartment/Penthouse. The next morning it was off to the local store to stock up on grub, and then load all six people into the Lexus, with the food stacked on us like so much refuse. The ole car was riding mighty low I can tell you. Tatianna was stuck behind the passengers seat on the floor, luckily she fit just perfect. The Condo was nice, and it was awesome weather as well. It was fun for all. No disasters, and we made it home in one piece. Check out the pictures in the usual place. Later.

The Squirrel of the Pipes!

Often you have heard the term "Skirl of the pipes", and you have always thought they were referring to the dulcet tones of a Bagpipe refrain from some distant glen? Wrong, you simply misunderstood their meaning. What they meant to say was the Squirrel of the Pipes. Yes, in this rare photo, we see Angus P. McNutt, One of the very first rodent pipers. Angus hails from the small town of Forthnerth Scotland. Taught by a piping legend, Ian T McLost, Angus learned the art of piping quickly. It was not long before he was impressing one and all with his quick fingering, and impressive jigs and reels. Angus was called into action during the 2nd Chestnut rebellion of 1856. Pressed into service as the sole piper for the Gordan Highlanders 31st regiment and rodent battalion, he saw action on many continents. But it was while serving in the Oak Tree uprising in Northern Italy that he truly became a piper of Legend. His small battalion had come under fire from the hostile forces of General Viper Von Rat. They had been taking heavy losses, and their regiment's morale was ebbing ever lower. Running low on battle chestnuts, and finding their water and peanut morsels almost spent, the battalion was on the verge of breaking ranks and abandoning the fight. It was at this moment that Lieutenant Angus McNutt said the immortal words, "Shall I gie em wind Cap'n". His commanding officer responded, "Aye Lad, gie em wind". Angus boldly stood amidst the flying acorns, and Hot Chestnuts flying past him, and struck in his drones and began to pipe. His actions so emboldened his comrades that they charged up the hill and over ran the more numerous forces of General Rat, and won the day. Unfortunately, Angus received many mortal wounds, and later succumbed to them, and passed away the following afternoon. Long will it be remembered that one lone piper stood to quail the impending defeat of a beleaguered 31st regiment. Angus has been immortalized in stone in front of the large oak tree in his home town. Today many rodent pipers are plying their skills and continuing the legend started by the brave Angus McNutt.

My Recent trip to Scotland

Here I am in the Isle of Skye Scotland, I was asked to come and play by the new minister of tourism for the newly formed Scottish parliment. I played a few of my favorite tunes, and was awarded the coveted position as Piper at Large, who would have thought. I was quite taken by the beauty of the Island, and had quite a time. It was an arduous task, and I represented our family well. Well, that is the truth, as truth may be!

An Ode to Dad

To My Dad

Oh what a time of joy and bliss, A day for a moment’s pause
And with Respect and pious air, Reflect on old dad's flaws
He's old enough to be Noah's kin and oft smells that way as well
And his humor is hard to place at times but it is as welcome as tongue can tell

His hair is grey from a life of well spent and his face shows the creases of time
His eyes once bright and full of life are still so, but now more sublime
His pace has slowed, and he rests more now, but he still needs noone’s hand
For of all the things that are the man, independence is his one sure brand

His legacy is the life he led and the lessons given, one by one
They shaped and molded tiny minds, who grew to touch the sun
He was always their, if our way grew hard, but would never interfere
He understood that for us to grow we must walk alone without fear

He was tough as nails and not oft prone, to love’s acknowledged verbal refrain
Yet we knew those things from his constant care, and his giving with nothing to gain
So on we walked down the road of our life, content knowing he would be by our side
And we travel along with a new flock in tow, these who look to us as their guide

So on this day of reflective repose, It’s to you dad my thoughts are drawn
For I love you so much, and that grows every day, as I think what for me you have done
You have given me life, and taught me to work, to be true, and honest and right
And all that I do is to bring, to you, pride at having taken the time in my life

So here’s to you dad, on this day of days, my it be one that is filled with peace
At knowing that we, who your name do pass on, are worthy, and strong and free
We will continue to teach and to foster the care, of those with whom we have charge
So that they will learn to carry with pride, the great Jacob name that is ours

Happy Fathers Day,
We love you,
Laura, Bob and the whole family

An Eternal Family

We are a family, knit together throughout eternity. There is no greater joy in life, than to know this truth. This blog is dedicated to this premise, and we gladly share with you our life experience. Thanks for taking a moment to spend with us.