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What I Learned from Bubba, The Love Sponge.

When someone like Bubba, the Love Sponge, finds his way into my life, I have to question the purpose.

Most days, when I first wake up, I make a point of not opening my eyes right away. I like to greet the day "inside myself", setting the day's intention. Next comes a silent prayer of deepest thanks for another sunrise and to "bless this day + everyone in it" before letting the world in. It's a life-affirming process that brings a peaceful and powerful grounding to launch another day. When my feet hit the floor, I am ready to rock and roll. Last Monday was no different.

After all the usual vitamin taking, tooth brushing, and lean-into-the-mirror for a quickie, ten-finger facelift, I turn on Good Morning America.

Enter, Bubba, the Love Sponge, and his former big-time buddy, Hulk Hogan. Gee whiz, they were mad at one another.

My immediate thought was sympathy for the newscasters who had spent a career, slogging their way up the media ladder, being award-winning journalists....finding and reporting serious news. How in the world were they delivering this story with a straight face? THIS is what we call news? Bubba, the Love Sponge, was refusing to testify in the trial about Hulk Hogan’s sex life which evidently included Bubba’s wife. Seriously?

While this "newscast" was playing out, I had opened our doors to another magnificent spring morning in the country. The mist on the lake, peaking through the trees behind our house, was rolling up to the heavens as the sun melted it away. Choirs of birds were singing in happy cacophony, one brighter than the other. Sigh.

But the sordid story about Bubba, the Love Sponge, “standing his ground” filled our living room. I wanted to hose myself off.


The obvious stark contrast between what God was serving up to start the day and what was playing out in our home suddenly found its place (and purpose).

Bubba, the Love Sponge, represents the army of smarmy that has invaded my life. I fool myself by thinking it just rolls through, not touching the tender places in me.

How numb have I become?

If you believe the old adage, "You ARE what you eat", then I also think "I am what I hear" and “I am what I think” could be new adages to incorporate into my daily belief system.

Unlike food, which does work its way through my system (with good or bad after-effects), I cannot EVER, un-hear or un-see what I have just allowed myself to listen to or watch.

Things that are on "in the background" do seep into my psyche. No question.

The need for constant white noise filling the quiet spaces keeps me from hearing what I need to, the very most—-especially in times of high stress.

Instead of distracting myself, I could be facing and figuring out how to fix the gnarly parts of my life. But as long as I keep a steady stream of background rattle and clatter, it’s so much easier to "fiddle-dee-dee" and whip out the remote for another day.

And, if there is “TV people noise" droning on in the background, I never have to deal with my own feelings of loneliness.

The truth is it only shows us how much we need connection with one another when we make TV a substitute for the real thing.

Note to self. Time to re-calibrate. Time for some delicious quiet, to hear the truth my heart wants to share. Time to savor the day.....all day.

This very story, which actually took place about three years ago, still resonates…even more so with our recent months sequestered in front of the “screaming box”. It stopped me in my tracks then. And, it became a huge whodda-thunk*it wake-up call. Brought to me by Bubba, the Love Sponge.

Thank you, Bubba. Then and now. For turning trash into treasure.


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