Bio

The story of the Doctor of Style…

I was born with the name Robert. A normal name. A great regal name! Oh, Robert! Soon I discovered I had many nicknames…

Rob, Bob, Bobby, Robb, Bert, Berto, Roberto, Bobert, Boberto, R-Dawg, R-Machine, Type-R, Robercoaster, Robelicious, Bertbobexpress and Le Bob to name a few.

In high school, a fellow called me R-Doctor, which was quickly latched onto by my friends, but shortened to good old-fashioned: Doc. This lasted for a few weeks and I really enjoyed the title. One day my close friend, Janek, was staring at me and commented how much he liked my attire. I was wearing a slick pair of Bugle Boy jeans, a white t-shirt over which a button down flannel with the sleeves cut off resided. He looked me right in the eye and said, “You are the Doctor of Style.”

Fast forward…years later at university, I was playing on a sports team as young, strong, bucking lads do. The captain of the team commented on my choice of attire that day. I was wearing Levi’s jeans, a white t-shirt, and a button down flannel with the sleeves cut off: “This is an odd outfit for a tennis match, Bob.”

I lost that matching recording three code violations. Code violations were as follows: 1 point for bringing alcohol onto the court (It was an empty Olde English 40 ounce glass bottle which was washed and sanitized. Filled with only the purest of water! No booze!) 2nd point taken away was for delay of game (I named all the tennis balls and simply asked my opponent to send Gary over cause I wanted to smack him on the next point. Seemed like harmless shenanigans) and the last point deducted from my score was for dress code violations. (I was wearing Levi’s jeans, a white t-shirt, and a button down flannel with the sleeves cut off.)

A week later at our next tennis outing, I was introduced in the lineup for the match as The Doctor of Style. Whoa!

Wait a second! Two people had both given me the same outlandish nickname. What did it mean? What was I to do now? This is weird!

So I embraced this new title and started to live it. I allowed the name and myself to grow and learn. We bonded and became one. In short, The Doctor of Style was the best thing to happen to a little boy from San Diego named Le Bob.

This website is meant to be a translation of my experience as the Doctor of Style.

Let’s get weird…