Me, Myself, and Bob: A True Story About Dreams, God, and Talking Vegetables

by Phil Vischer

Overview

Have you ever had a dream that excites and scares you? Bob the Tomato, or at least his creator and voice, has been there too.

Be inspired by the whimsical world of VeggieTales like never before with Me, Myself, and Bob by Phil Vischer. This memoir is not just a tale; it’s a heartfelt adventure that unfolds the incredible journey of dreaming big, facing monumental challenges, and ultimately finding true success.

Phil Vischer, the mastermind behind those beloved animated vegetables as well as creator of The Holy Post, What's in the Bible, and The Mr. Phil Show, candidly shares his story of spectacular success, breathtaking failure, and the whispered answers from God that came after shouted questions. With his trademark humor and thoughtful Christian perspective, Me, Myself, and Bob is a must-read for Christian families, VeggieTales fans, and aspiring dreamers alike.

In this book you will get:

• Inside Look: Get an exclusive behind-the-scenes glimpse at the creation of VeggieTales, from its inception to its rise to fame.
• Humor and Heart: Phil Vischer’s trademark wit and heartfelt storytelling make this memoir both entertaining and deeply moving.
• Inspiration for All: Whether you're an entrepreneur, a VeggieTales fanatic, or simply someone looking for a story of faith and perseverance, this book offers valuable lessons and inspiration.

 

Join the community of VeggieTales lovers and discover the untold story behind the most famous vegetables in entertainment. With Me, Myself, and Bob, you'll laugh, you'll cry, and you'll be reminded of the incredible power of dreams and how God is always present in our story.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781418537630
Publisher:	Nelson, Thomas, Inc.
Publication date:	02/03/2008
Sold by:	HarperCollins Publishing
Format:	eBook
Pages:	272
File size:	406 KB

About the Author

Phil Vischer is the CEO and Chief Creative Officer of Big Idea Productions. As co-creator of the popular series, VeggieTales™, he has also served as writer, director and voice for more than a dozen characters, including Bob the Tomato. Since the release of the first VeggieTales™ episode in 1993, more than 30 million units have been sold in the series. Vischer and his wife, Lisa, live in the Chicago, IL with their 3 children.

Read an Excerpt

Me, Myself & Bob

A True Story about God, Dreams, and Talking Vegetables

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By Phil Vischer

Nelson Books

Copyright © 2007 Phil Vischer
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-7852-2207-1

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Chapter One

Muscatine and Me

Evelyn Schauland was a fancy woman.

I always liked stories that start with a really great line, like "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times," or "They call me Ishmael." So I wrestled around a bit and came up with "Evelyn Schauland was a fancy woman." Not bad, eh? I mean, maybe it isn't "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," but it's got some rhythm. And the best part is, it's true.

But first, let me go back to the very beginning. I was born in Muscatine, Iowa, a town of about 25,000 people on the banks of the Mississippi River. If you're like most folks, you've probably never heard of Muscatine, Iowa. If you aren't from the Midwest, you may not even be sure which one is Iowa and which one is Ohio. We get that a lot. For the record, Iowa is the one with all the corn, right across the Mississippi from Illinois. (And that's a silent s in Illinois. Same with Des Moines. Which is in Iowa. But not the same with Des Plaines, which is in Illinois. It has noisy s's. Don't ask me why, because I don't know. I'm pretty sure we can blame the French, though.) As for Muscatine-well, if you look at a map of Iowa, you'll notice that the eastern edge, the one on the Mississippi, looks sort of like a face. A man's face, to be exact, with a big ol' nose in the middle and a little beard hanging off at the bottom. And if you look at it that way, Muscatine is very easy to find because, well, it's the nostril. I was born in Iowa's nostril.

You might expect growing up in a state's nostril to be an olfactorily intriguing experience, and, in that regard, Muscatine did not disappoint. My childhood memories of Muscatine are dominated by two very strong and not entirely pleasant odors. The first emanated from the Kent Feed plant on the south side of Muscatine, not far from the church we attended. I don't know much about the Kent Feed Company, but I do know that any product whose name implies that its primary purpose is to be eaten should not emit such a foul odor during its manufacture.

The second strong odor resided in the middle of Muscatine, near the house of my grade school years, and arose from a large Heinz ketchup factory. Now, you may be thinking, "Ketchup! Yum!" And having a ketchup factory in the middle of town was kind of fun, in particular during harvesttime every year when all the roads leading to the plant were covered with smashed tomatoes. (Insert VeggieTales joke here.) But before you get too jealous, spread some ketchup-Heinz or otherwise-around your kitchen table, let it get nice and warm, and then smell it. It smells terrible. Ketchup is made with vinegar, and that is exactly how the middle of Muscatine smelled when the wind blew past the ketchup plant on a warm day.

If you're paying attention (and I hope you are, because otherwise none of this will make sense when you reach the end), you've probably noticed that Muscatine was not exactly a sleepy little farm community. It was an industrial town. Besides the Kent Feed plant and the Heinz factory, the Muscatine of my youth also hosted the world headquarters of HON Industries, a large office furniture manufacturer, and Bandag, the world's largest retreader of truck tires. As much as I've always liked really cool office furniture (don't ask me why-it's a strange, lifelong fascination), my family connection was with Bandag, the world's largest retreader of truck tires. My grandfather, you see, was the executive vice president of sales and marketing at Bandag, having helped grow the company from almost nothing to an international concern with dealerships in more than a hundred countries. My father was Bandag's vice president of advertising, reporting to his father for the entire fourteen years he worked for the company. This, in hindsight, may not have been the best choice.

But I digress.

Evelyn Schauland was a fancy woman. Yes. That's where I started, and here we are back again. Her dyed blond hair was always freshly styled in one of those amazing 1970s configurations that seemed more architectural than biological. Her pantsuits were immaculate and colorful. As mayor of Muscatine through much of my childhood, she was as close to royalty as we got, and she looked the part.

Which only made it more embarrassing when my father dumped her into the Mississippi River.

Okay, not exactly into the river itself, but rather into the mud along the western banks (which, from the point of view of a pantsuit, may actually be worse). And it really wasn't his fault, you see, because she was in a hot air balloon. The Bandag hot air balloon, to be exact. It was a publicity stunt-my dad taking the mayor up in the Bandag hot air balloon. And I'm sure it would have been a huge success if it weren't for the unexpected wind that grabbed the balloon-and the fancy mayor-and sent them swiftly out toward the big river. Fortunately, the quick-thinking pilot was able to set the balloon down before the wind could carry them out over the river and on to Illinois, where, undoubtedly, the fancy mayor would have been captured and held for ransom. Given that interstate hostage situations seldom make good press, especially when your company logo is emblazoned all over the interloping vehicle, we believe the best decision was made. Nonetheless, the balloon came down in Mississippi mud, and the mayoral pantsuit was soiled.

This was rather embarrassing for my father. But none of that was on my young mind at the time. None of that was responsible for the nagging ache in my gut. No, what I couldn't stop thinking about was the fact that the entire incident took place on Sunday morning. When my father should have been in church. In all my life I had never known either of my parents to miss church for anything short of hospitalization, and yet here was my father skipping church for a publicity stunt with the mayor. An event with no redeeming spiritual significance whatsoever.

I feared for his soul.

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from Me, Myself & Bob by Phil Vischer Copyright © 2007 by Phil Vischer. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Introduction     vii
Muscatine and Me     1
Beginnings     5
Making Stuff     18
"I Want My MTV"     27
Off to School We Go     32
Work     38
Life in the Big City     45
Technical Mumbo Jumbo     51
Cue the Vegetables     62
Selling the Veggies     69
"Have We Got a Show for You"     82
Baby Steps     96
Going Up     110
Life in the Nuthouse     123
Built to Last     135
The Beginning of the End     150
The Middle of the End     158
The End of the End     175
Dreams, Part I     197
Lessons     208
Dreams, Part II     224
Me and Walt     252
Postscript-Irony     259

Editorial Reviews

Have you ever been tempted to start your own business? First read this cautionary tale, especially if you think your ideas come from God. Vischer, a pioneer in computerized animation and creator of Veggie Tales, proves that a pathetically skinny, shy techno-geek can be hilarious even when describing his headlong plunge into bankruptcy. In 1989, "with an unflappable `How hard could it be' attitude," the 22-year-old entrepreneur launched his dream of creating high-quality Christian entertainment by founding the company that would become Big Idea Productions. Thirteen stressful years later, he was featured in a People magazine cover story "small town kid kicked out of Bible college and down to his last ten bucks creates talking vegetables and hits it big, selling 40 million videos!" shortly before firing half his staff in an unsuccessful attempt to avert disaster. While Vischer accepts the blame for the collapse ("my strengths built Big Idea, and my weaknesses brought it down"), he also details various unnamed executives' incompetence. One question haunted him: if he was doing God's work, why didn't God rescue his company? Concluding his story of spiritual inspiration and heartbreak, Vischer draws lessons from his experience for anyone who has ever lost a dream. (Jan. 9) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

Publishers Weekly