Thoughts of a Common Man

What the hell happened to TV? I grew up watching Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, The Jeffersons and Alice. The comedy writing was elevated by shows like Cheers, M*A*S*H, and eventually Seinfeld and Friends. I knew the characters, rooted for them in their fictional lives, and laughed and cried with them to the bitter end. Last night, my wife convinced me to watch "Are you Smarter than a fifth-grader" with two of my boys - we divided the boys up and played along with some of the dumbest son-of-a-bitches that were ever granted a few minutes of TV time. I must say - I didn't miss even a single question - and neither did my wife or sons (okay, I'm lying, my wife missed a couple, but I'm trying to be gracious). Anyway, I didn't really enjoy the hour - there were just seven questions asked in a full hour. The rest of the time was spent in mindless chatter - back and forth silliness about how stupid the contestants were compared to the 5th graders - and a lot of li...

I absolutely hate the days when it seems as though you never see the sun. I leave the house when its dark and return in the dark, and never quite feel as though I've escaped it all day long. And yet, there is something just right about the changing seasons. I lived in California for awhile and I literally sepnt eight months in sunshine, and grew bored with it. I could have been a weather man out there - I knew where each cloud was going to be, and there never was much of a threat of rain. On December 15th of that year, I played basketball outside in a t-shirt and shorts. I distinctly recall thinking, this ain't Christmas. Four days later, the pilot announced, "We're arriving in Buffalo where the current temperature is 22 degrees." The wind was whistling, it was dark, and the half of my brain that thinks was saying, "What the hell did you do this time, moron?" I'm not sure what it is that I enjoy about winter - but it's here and I'm ready for ...

I have been writing stories for most of my adult life - I had my first book published by the age of 24 and have been writing something new - ever since. If I ever nail it, I might quit. Yet, the thing about writing is that you never have the perfect story, or the perfect character, or the perfect ending. I suppose that is because you're always chasing what you can't catch. Which isn't to say that writing is without its rewards. I've spoken to auditoriums full of people. I've taught writing classes. I've read my stories to college classes, and I've had my books on display in New York, Washington and Chicago - and you know, none of it truly matters. What is important is the journey - quieting the voices that scream inside my head for time. I was writing my book In Real Life when my wife was pregnant. It's a coming-of-age story that was written about a man who imagined that the life he was living was close to the life that he wanted to live. I was about 3/...

Caught a piece on 60 Minutes that said that Human Resources people all over the land are confused as to how to treat the "new worker" who demands CEO pay and benefits while doing entry level jobs. The 60 Minutes piece said that the new worker is always complaining, is always worried about "ME" and will up and quit if their every need is not attended to. I've had a lot of bosses in my day - one who dictated that my first task of every day when I was a construction laborer - was to buy him a case of beer and deliver to the job trailer no later than 7 AM. I figured it was part of the job - and every day, when he was blind drunk by noon, I listened to him rant and rave. Another boss demanded that I do most of his work. While he was a certified executive, I was just his piss boy. For 7 years I carried his sorry ass because he couldn't even write a simple letter - he's enjoying his pension now, bragging that he was a big-shot. I interviewed a guy for a positio...

I don't know if it is the responsibility of being a parent, or the challenge of being a son, or just the fact that I'm getting older, but it seems that a lot of time is spent worrying about when the other shoe is going to drop. Take for instance this weekend - I was looking forward to the long weekend so that we could spend some quality time, but happiness turned to sadness - see Jack O'Neill post - and additionally a co-worker and good friend broke the news that he has cancer. I spent the last three days of the weekend, just hoping that the bad news didn't come in three's. As luck might have it, I shared a couple of beers with some other father's - and I mentioned that a lot of my adult life is spent wondering when the other shoe is going to drop - one of my good friend's explained that it was just life happening around me. Perhaps John Lennon's famous quote sums it all up - life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. Yes, the other sh...

One of the true advantages in living in Western New York is that we have the opportunity to see the changing seasons. The bright colors of summer give way to truly colorful images as the leaves change go red and brown and drift to the ground. Yet, the bright colors leave us quickly, giving way to a heavy cloud of gray, as winter approaches. The clouds were hanging low yesterday, and again this morning. My heart was heavy too, as a true Irish-American passed away after spending Thanskgiving Day with the family that he loved. Something changed about the entire landscape, as Jack O'Neill's physical time on the earth ended. I'm always struck by the daily obits in the morning newspaper. As is my habit, I read through the section, amazed by the fact that the beat writers can encapsulate a full life in a three sentence paragraph. This morning, as I gazed on Jack O'Neill's story, my mind threatened to explode. 19 grandchildren, sixty-three years of marriage, and five great-...

There certainly has been a strange element to the politics of the United States over the past few years. It is almost as if we are all picking sides for an ultimate dodge ball match. To say that the country is fractured in a Bush-Clinton type meltdown is actually understating the case. I have a number of really good friends who sit on the opposite side of the political fence - and we are awfully careful not to hammer away at each other when there are a couple of Michelob Lights introduced to the scene. Still, it got me to wondering... why is there such a rift and why are we compelled to fight for whatever side we fight for? I thought about the first three words of the Constitution and how much they should mean to all of us - We the People - I think back to The Stand by Stephen King and the re-organization of civilization after a horrible threat to humanity. Soon after the new government was formed - there were fractures and fissures that drove people to one side or another. I don't...

Saw a news flash yesterday that politicized Thanksgiving, saying it was disrespectful to someone that we gather together, say thanks, and eat and drink until we reach the stage of throwing up. What's the problem? Yes, perhaps we have too many freedoms, maybe we take it all for granted. Maybe we all misunderstand the basic principles behind the Holiday, and use it for ourselves. I'm sure that most families don't recreate the Pilgrim-Indian scene, but does that mean we are offending someone? I don't know about you, but I certainly don't mean any disrespect when I'm reaching for the stuffing bowl again - my mother makes the best stuffing in the world, by the way- yes, I eat too much. I have too much fun. I look around just before dinner starts and say thank-you for my family, and the opportunity to live free. I watch my children move in for the turkey leg, and appreciate the fact that they are healthy. I look at the Lions game, toss back a beer, and understand that...

Just filled up at the pumps - $3.40 a gallon. Hard to say how we've all adjusted to such prices, but what can we do? Run the engine with urine? Take the horse to work? Our undistinguished leader once explained that we as Americans were addicted to oil. It was a bold statement that was issued without the usual stammering, or mis-pronunciation usually mustered during a stump speech. They were words meant to spur us on - to what exactly? Researching our own alternatives to this mess? Trying to run the mower with Ginger Ale? I don't drive a Hummer. I try my best to conserve energy, but I've noticed that when I allow the needle on the tank to get below E, the vehicle starts gasping and eventually quits. Yet, I also noticed that we attacked - as Chris Rock put it - an oil-producing nation - and still the prices go up. I've also noticed that I am uneducated in the ways of the wealthy and certainly don't understand the subtle nuances that are driving the costs skyward, but ...

I first met Bernie about ten years ago at a bar after a hard day of working construction. While most of us slammed a couple of beers so that we could run home to our busy lives, Bernie drank straight whiskey. It was common knowledge that Bernie had his first heart attack while still in his thirties, but he did nothing to change his hard-living ways. The health problems continued, and so did the drinking, gambling, and as Bernie puts it, whore-mongering. His family was devastated by his lifestyle. Two of his children ended up spending time in prison. His wife was long gone. His financial future was also demolished and despite barely being able to stand for too long, he was forced to head back to work. I ran into Bernie a few weeks back. His face was gray, almost the color of ash. Most of his teeth were gone, and he was skinny as Olive Oil in the old Popeye cartoons. Yet, he was wearing a hardhat again. I asked him how he felt and Bernie let loose with a litany of complaints. He needed h...

I was never big on war. I can remember back to the 2nd grade when I asked the nun at my catholic grammer school if it was a sin if you killed someone during a war. I remember it only because she stuttered her way to an answer that didn't seriously register. I still am not sure of the answer to that question - call it Catholic guilt, or whatever, but I couldn't imagine being on the right end, or the wrong end of a gun. I have nothing against guns- people seem to enjoy shooting them for relief. Hunting would probably appeal to me if I wasn't so busy reading and writing. I could help with the beer, at least. The problem I have is seeing the faces of the young kids who die in war. Their love of country is certainly admirable. I am all for the troops and the spread of democracy. Every person should have the right to live free. I'm still sickened by 9/11 and I clearly recall how it made me feel - I was mostly ashamed to be a part of the human race - and it doesn't get any...

The dogs are asleep on the floor, just waiting for me to make the next move so that they can follow me from room to room. The sauce is on; a Sunday tradition from an Italian-American past that I refuse to let die with me. The football schedule is ready, we've already been to church. The work week is staring us straight in the eye, but the kids are running from room-to-room, doing their homework, playing video games, arguing with one another, and screaming until they give me a headache. I work my ways through the household bills and wait for the dryer to stop so I can fold a load of laundry. My wife cleans the spot underneath the fridge, has a cup of coffee, and folds the paper so she can have an angle at the crossword puzzle. Tomorrow, we'll trudge off to work, thinking about what we're going to do next weekend, and you know, it'll be much the same as this weekend. We'll talk to the kids about what they really, really, really want for Christmas. We'll debate wha...

All of my life I've tried to read everything I can get my hands on. I can remember doing all of the book reports for all of my classmates back in high school, wondering how they could live their lives without books. To this very night, I have read before heading off to sleep. I've read everything from Stephen King to Hemmingway, skipping back and forth, depending upon my mood. I currently have three half-read books near my bed, and will open one of them up and let the words comfort me. As a writer a lot of people tell me of the books they are reading.They ask me what is the greatest book I've ever read - I can honestly answer East of Eden by Steinbeck although A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving isn't that far behind. Yet, through the years there has been one simple phrase that has meant the world to me. It is a phrase written by a rock and roll star. They are simple words, that has become something of a crude prayer around my house. My children recognize the words a...

Can someone please explain to me why the hell I'm still looking at OJ Simpson's huge head on television? As a youngster growing up in the Buffalo area, it was impossible not to love the Juice. He was so graceful on the field, and so lively off of it. He was entertaining, engaging, and talented. He was the kind of guy that mother's dreamed that their kids would grow up to be. Of course, as his career ended, he became an actor who was quite funny in the Naked Gun movies. He was still the Buffalo Bills biggest fan and allowed us a sense of national pride. As I grew to an adult, I still loved OJ - and then of course, the murders. Not only did Nicole Simpson and Ron Goldman lose their lives, but a lot of us growing up idolizing OJ lost our faith in our heroes. I have a good friend, Al DeCarlo, who was perhaps an even bigger OJ fan than me. When the murders hit, we talked of our disappearing youth and the fact that the nuns who taught us about life, never mentioned the fact that ...

One afternoon I went into one of the bigger office building in downtown Buffalo. I had an appointment on the 9th floor and I jumped into the elevator (because climbing the stairs was not an option) and much to my dismay, the elevator was a bank of mirrors. Halfway to my destination, I glanced in the mirror and said, quite loudly, 'What the hell happened to me?' The other three people on the elevator moved as far away as possible. It was a simple rhetorical question, but one that surprised me - when did my hair race into full retreat? Why did I have circles under my eyes? Let's not even discuss the extra weight, and the gray in my facial hair. Wasn't I just 18 years old? How in the hell had twenty-five years passed so quickly? Why do I get tired partway through the day? How come I can't eat like there's a gun to my head anymore? And drinking beer? Forget it - I need to schedule at least three days off and you'll never get me to try a draft beer. There are nig...

I have a 14-year old son who dreams of playing in the NBA. Last night, my other two boys, who aspire to be pro wrestlers asked me if wrestling was fake. When I was young, I wanted to write a book or sentence that would change the world or the way people thought. Not sure if that is a dream that can ever come true. Now, the craze on television is reality shows, where real live people do real live things. Is a dream a lie if it doesn't come true? We tell ourselves all kinds of things to make it through the day. We are fooled by people, leaders, sports stars, and politicians. We want to believe the best about people, but we are dragged through the mud, when our illusions don't meet our true existence. I have never watched one scene from a reality show. I see the glut of game shows on television and I think of my grandfather watching The Price is Right and loudly rooting against the contestants - when one of them would lose - he would angrily shout - "good for you, you stupid ...

I feel compelled to tell you about my new book... House of Miracles . I am not writing this post to sell books, rather, it is an attempt to let you get to know some of the people involved. It truly is a long story that pushed me into writing the book, but it is a story that developed out of love of my fellow man. You see, back in 2001, my son Jake was diagnosed with a life-threatening tumor. After a long ordeal, he was saved at The Women & Children's Hospital of Buffalo, NY . Up until that point in time, my life had moved along quite smoothly. I wasn't real aware of how a hospital works, what goes into the day of a surgeon, or a critical care nurse, or a hospital photographer, or chaplain. There was no reason for me to get to know any of these people, but through Jake's illness, I was allowed a glimpse into their world. We as Americans have a real desire to be entertained. We idolize movie stars, beautiful girls with no appreciable talents, sports stars, and musicians. ...

I imagine that this blog will just be an exercise in writing, but I have always toyed with the idea of what is important in life and I have written extensively about trying to find my place. I have been fairly successful in getting my books published and out there, but there is so much more to do, and so little time... I am looking at this blog as an opportunity to share some of my thoughts. I'm a typical American male with three kids, a great wife, a mortgage and a couple of dogs - just to keep my balance. I was thinking of a story to encapsulate such a life and I drift in time back to my 40th birthday. I was a little anxious about turning 40, and approached my birthday not really wanting to share much. I just kept saying, it's just another day. On that day, I returned home from work, thinking about a beer, the Yankees playoff series against the Red Sox, and a good night's rest. My wife and sons were waiting in the driveway with presents for me, and the first present I rec...