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Showing posts from April, 2008

Scanning the Globe

One of those days when I let the news catch up to me: Another surfer attacked by a shark and a horrified public screams - What's wrong with these sharks? Why are they attacking us? Well, I'm not a genius, but it seems to me that they are hungry and we are food. I can imagine cows saying the same thing as they graze - why are these people attacking us - real simple - food, the natural order of things. We play in their homes, we run the risk of being dinner. How about the man who kept his family in a cage that he called a fall-out shelter. Talk about wait until your father gets home. It blows your mind when you read about someone who got stuck a few rungs down on the chain of evolution - oh, wait, George W. doesn't believe in evolution - another subject. An that cult with the teenage brides and molested wives and sons. It appears to me that it is much easier to brainwash people when they feel let down by life. These places prey on weakness - the way things are going we should

Mental Health

Years and years ago I wrote a story about a guy who always felt as if he were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I called it Born Yesterday and even though I never did anything with the story - I liked it because it summed up some of the stress I feel on a daily basis. I often think of it as I get agitated. I was having a conversation with my wife this afternoon and she asked me if one of my co-workers was happy - I thought about saying 'who gives a shit who's happy,' but I settled on a more diplomatic answer - "Of course he's happy," I said. "I'm the happiness-maker." I got the laugh I was looking for. Yet, day to day, it seems as though there is so much to do and often times, I am in the wrong place at the wrong time - not that I'm dallying or not working hard enough, but there are arms grabbing from every side. Wah, wah, wah! We all have those problems. There is dinner to be made every day, kids that need attention, dogs that wonder why

Ah the Memories!

We decided to take the boys to Cleveland to watch the Yankees play - 2 of 3 of the boys love the Yanks - the other hates them, but loves rooting against them. Our plan was to drive down on Saturday, stay overnight and catch the game on Sunday before heading back to our lives. We made a lot of memories in just that short window of time. Jake and I schooled Matt and Sam in 3 games of Clue as Kathy got ready for the game. The key moment of the competition was when I pretended to be an interviewer and cornered Sam after the game 3 defeat."What do you think of your partner?" I teased. "He absolutely sucked," Sam answered. At the game, we were fortunate enough to get good seats (thanks Mom!) and the boys were able to get within twenty or thirty feet of Jeter and A-Rod - we have some wonderful photos, and Sam led the way, walking brazenly up to the gate to shout to them to turn in his direction. The Yanks clung to a 1-0 lead late in the game. The Indians had a runner at 3

1, 2, 3- Everyone Buy Some Gas!

I'm actually awaiting the moment when the woman on the other end of the line says - "Your balance includes a desposit totaling.... The government is going to press that anonymous lady into action as my "tax rebate" hits the books. First off, what of that lady? Do you think her friends recognize her as the woman who's voice is on their call-ins to the bank? Do total strangers listen to her speak for the first time and say - "I know I know you from somewhere?" Whatever? Must be an interesting life. What to do with this sudden cash surplus? Geez, isn't "W" like the greatest president ever? He keeps giving us money!!! He's sort of like the rich uncle who molests you when your parents are gone and gives you candy money when they're watching. Again! Whatever! (Never happened to me, but sounded like a good analogy when I practiced it). Bush tells us to fill that gas tank... wink, wink... so he and his buddies can have all of that money ba

Making Sense of It

A good friend of mine had surgery for colon cancer, developed blood clots on his lungs and on his heart, recovered from that and found that he has a spot on his lung. Hoping against hope, he had the necessary tests and yes, the spot is more cancer. He's lost over 40 pounds. He has five kids, a lot to live for, and a new way of looking at life. "All the things we do every day, it's all pretty pointless," he said. "There are just a few things that are really important, and I plan on living a long time to chase those things down." I had a long drive home to think about those words. I thought of my grandfather who said, "Life is a shit sandwich." I thought of Tony Soprano who said, "It's all a big nothing." We've all been there. My friend wasn't being cynical. Rather, he was just looking at everything a little differently since this fight for his life has begun. When you think about it - really think about it as my friend is doin

"Don't Be Stupid, You Moron"

Listening to Howard Stern has taught me a lot of life lessons - Howard plays a tape of his father scolding him when he was a mere child. "I told you not to be stupid, you moron," his father said long ago. Of course, Howard plays that into the reason why he is demented. Regardless, it's pretty funny. Unless of course, you have children, and you understand that sometimes such phrases are bound to slip out and cause a lifetime of pain. My children are all different - one needs an ego stroke from time-to-time so I go out of my way to tell him that he's a good kid - I'll wrap my arm around his shoulder and say to my wife - "This is the guy I've been telling you about - he's a great guy." That is a take-off on a Simpsons episode and brings a smile to Jake's face every time. I have another son who rarely needs an ego boost - he's good and he knows it - good old Sam will strut around like the coolest thing on the planet - and you know, he might b

Waiting on a Sunny Day

Isn't it nice not to have to wear a coat or brush off the car, or shovel snow, or freeze your ass off? I can't help but be picked up by the weather and I sincerely believe that the change in seasons is what makes the people of Buffalo such wonderful people to be around - (for four months out of the year). I woke up this morning, took a deep breath, and didn't cringe because of cold air smashing my lungs. I looked up at the clear blue sky and heard the singing friggen' birds who woke me up early, and I sort of ran out to start my day. Everyone I bumped into seemed happier. The food tasted better. The cold water that I drank down at every other stop was awesome. I returned home and mowed the lawn - it is impossible for me to mow the lawn at a leisurely pace and not remember having to mow the lawn when Jake was sick - I did it at break-neck speed, nearly crying as I ran across the lawn to just get it over with - if you haven't read Counting on a Miracle yet - shame on

Papal Visit

It drives me crazy to hear people taking potshots at the Pope each and every time he comes to visit. I have a great friend - Karl - who is also upset by some of the members of the media poking fun at Christianity. I don't get it. Why isn't there more tolerance in the world - of other people's beliefs, their love of the Yankees, and their views on conservatism or liberalism? We all seem to be a bit on edge in regard to what other people feel, or believe, or even love. For God's sake - in the immortal words of Rodney King - "Can't we all just get along?" The Pope wasn't visiting to stir up memories of the scandal in the Catholic Church. He wasn't here so the Yankees could play 18 straight road games without a day off (which is a whole 'nother subject). No, he was here to spread a message of love and tolerance - and for that every comedian or so-called journalist takes pot shots at him for everything from his hat to Moses parting the Red Sea. If y

My Three Sons

In the middle of a beautiful Saturday afternoon I called my parents to check in and see what they had planned for such a great day. One thing led to another and I wound up having a half-hour conversation with my father about the old family tree. He was speaking about his fifty-year college reunion and before too long we had discussed his college days, my Uncle Tony, my Grandfather, and a couple of relatives that I barely knew. It was fascinating to imagine life back that far, with my father bringing up an incident with my great uncle back in '37. 1937! This whole sordid affair - speaking of Fazzolari's from over 70 years ago - left me to consider my three boys and what lies ahead. First off, I hope that I am blessed to have a conversation with them about their uncles, some thirty-plus years from now. Secondly, I really, really hope that I am able to shield them from some of the heartache in life. I'm not sure why my mind went there, but I began to worry about some of the pe

Look it Up on the Internet

A great educator friend of mine who happens to be a principal (I always struggle which principle to use - but remember the one at school is my "pal") was sharing some of the struggles of teaching in this day and age. I don't know why it hit me so suddenly, but it seemed to me that kids who have everything at their fingertips may actually be lazier because of it. As a child I remember catching hell from my father because I needed to know the score of the Yankee game as it was going on. I would call a not-so-toll-free number to find out it was 0-0 in the 3rd inning. When the phone bill came I got the "Who the hell called a 900-number seven times during the week?" Yesterday I had a dispute with my son about who the current right-fielder with the Mariners is - "Look it up," I said. Twenty seconds later he explained that Ichiro made the move to center. Yet what struck me about it is that a lot of the work has been removed from the equation. As recently as d

These Times They Are A Changing

A couple of days ago Bruce Springsteen endorsed Obama for president. Of course, anyone who knows me, knows that Bruce is my all-time favorite entertainer and writer. I certainly was not suprised by his stance, but truth be told, it makes me a little uncomfortable - and not because I necessarily disagree with him. Honestly, I haven't made up my mind. Bruce's endorsement of Obama doesn't help me make it up either. Yet I am not uncomfortable with him taking a stand. He's always taken a stand. It is one of his most admirable qualities. He does have the right to take the stand too because he has earned respect through his work. Will his backing of Obama make a difference? It didn't seem to help John Kerry. Yet Springsteen has certainly earned a voice - agree or not - he has a platform and would be cheating his audience if he didn't use it. He has been consistent in his message and if he feels compelled - so be it. Bob Dylan was a pioneer in using his music to make a

You're the Father!

Recently I heard a recap of a Maury Povich show in which a young girl has paternity tests to figure out who is the father of her forthcoming baby. There were five men sharing the stage with her, and Maury went to each one, with pause for drama to tell them, "You are NOT the father!" The problem was that he wound up telling all five men the same thing! Each man had a horse in the race, so to speak, but they all wound up sitting at the gate. A sixth, mystery man, ended up with the gold ticket, and is now presumably searching for a crib. Are you kidding me! Six guys were in the running? What a freaking prize that ended up being, huh? Thankfully the recap of the show was on the radio so I didn't have to see the train wreck of the mother-to-be, but she must have been mildly attractive, right? She had six suitors, all hitting the target at the same time. A couple of points here... How and why is this deemed as entertainment? What makes us stand up and take notice of the worst t

Sore Back

All through my adult life I've had a back that acts up every once in awhile. It's sore now and will remain that way for a few days. When your body aches, there is little that you can do to cheer yourself up. I would never truly think about stopping to rest, so I try other things. For one, I think of people who have tremendous amounts of courage. There are soldiers at Walter Reed who are missing limbs and are ready to go back into the war game. There are people in wheelchairs who whistle their way through the thought that they won't walk again. I had a dog who could barely move, but was determined to sleep - up three flights of stairs - by my side. There are single mothers who cook, clean, and work to keep their families together. There are homeless men and women sleeping under bridges because we forgot about them, or because we don't want to consider their weaknesses. There are sick children, battling for lives that have barely begun. There are doctors and nurses - no d

Predators

My boys are outside. The sun is shining and although it's a bit cold, they are happy for the chance to bounce a ball in the driveway, shoot on goal, and chase the dogs around the backyard. Yet it isn't as quite as free and easy as when I was a boy. I grew up in a small town. I had good friends up and down the road and very often, we would come home, toss the bookbags away and ask about dinner. My mother would simply say - "Don't be late." No one was truly concerned with predators stalking the children. This week it began with a description of a man in a white van who approached an adolescent boy. The predator didn't chase the boy down the street - he got out of his car and rang the front doorbell, knowing that parental supervision was not around. We are a generation that grew up listening to stories on Nancy Grace. Most people I know have an opinion on JonBenet's death. 48 Hours runs a mystery each and every week - and this isn't Agatha Christie or Alf

Sweet Dreams are Made of This

Back in college we played a drinking game to Pee-Wee's Playhouse. God help you if the guy next to you caught the secret word before you did. Yet what I remember most about Pee-Wee (besides that little theatre indiscretion) was his movie - Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (which we also caught three sheets to the wind). In a very intense scene, his love interest asks Pee-Wee - as soft music plays in the background - whether or not he has any dreams. In that awesome Pee-Wee voice he says -"I have a scary one where a beast chases me and catches me and tears me apart." I have a lot of dreams. One concerns watching an airplane fall from the sky. I don't know what it means, but it always wakes me up. I also have a recurring dream about being one credit short of graduating from college. Even awake, I swear that someone is going to call me and let me know my BA wasn't completed. A few weeks ago, my wife woke up rather irritated with me. When I pressed her on the issue, she tol

Tired of the Cavemen

When I made my First Communion the priest, during his sermon, asked the gathering if anyone knew what he meant when he mentioned the idiot box. Of course he was talking about television, but the kid he called on, who happened to be my next-door neighbor, said, "Is that the place where you keep the chalice?" The entire congregation laughed and I distinctly recall feeling bad for my neighbor. "No," the priest explained, "the idiot box is the television because idiots sit in front of it." My First Communion was in 1974 or '75, so that statement has hung with me for a long time. Tonight, I was watching the commercial with the caveman riding the walking strip along the airport when he sees the picture of another caveman and reads the sign that says "So easy a caveman can do it." He acts all indignant and the song fades away as the Geico logo comes up. I thought of the priest and the fact that I felt like an idiot for watching that commercial for w

Nothing to Lose

A carpenter friend of mine was working on a building in downtown Buffalo. His care was parked out front, not fifty feet away from the front entrance of the new construction. As he hammered away, a man broke into his car and drove off down the street. My friend was flabbergasted - "Can you imagine being so brazen?" he asked. Another co-worker was telling me of an insurance claim regarding the loss of copper in their building - someone broke in and ripped the place apart, stealing everything they can get their hands on. Isn't it depressing how people act when they have nothing to lose? Whenever I hear these stories I think of the old Bob Dylan line - "When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose." It seems like the gap is widening. The cop who responded to the stolen car told the carpenter that he should have known better than to park his car in that neighborhood. What was the guy supposed to do? It also seems to me that we all know the areas of town to avoid a

Loves to Laugh

My boys all enjoy a good joke. They are particularly enamored with any joke that has to do with bodily functions and/or newly discovered words. Last night, we had a little shooting contest in the backyard. I don't quite shoot like I used to unless I get warmed up first. So, unfortunately, as it was a speed-shooting contest, I let fly with S**t when I missed a shot. The word simply slipped out, but it actually slipped out twice. Unfortunately, Sam, my 7-year-old picked up on it. When he missed his next shot, yep, he let fly with s**t. This greatly amused my other two sons, of course, and while I scolded Sam, I did it with a smile on my face. Moments later, he missed again, and stated very matter-of-factly that 'missing' was starting to really p**s him off. I stopped the game and asked him to clean up his act. It reminded me of being young and having a brother who liked to swear. Jim was always letting loose with one curse word after another. It came to a head when a substitu

Meeting New People

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Book signings have always been strange events for me. From the very first one, on down to last night's appearance at Barnes & Noble, I'm never real sure what to expect. Last night was entertaining because I had the opportunity to speak to a group of writers. Writing is a solitary exercise that dictates that you spend a lot of time inside your own head. Then, while promoting the book, you're asked to put your best smile on and greet potential book-buyers. I've learned to really enjoy it, and I can trace it all back to the teenager with his pants falling down, a stud stuck in his eye, and a torn baseball jersey. Wordlessly he picked up a copy of my newest book, and read the back cover. I started getting excited believing that I had a sale and he calmly placed the book back on the table and said "Dude, you know where the bathroom's at?" I suppose that I will never forget that gent. Last night, I met an aspiring writer who is just 16-years old. Her pointed

One Life

The NCAA game finished last night and the local network went straight to the news. There were two hit and runs involving drunk drivers, a murder, and a man who burned his two-year old by making him sit on the space heater. Following a commercial break - we learned of death by fire, an assault charge, and a robbery of $280,000 worth of copper. There are no leads in the case. Garbage in, garbage out. I had a conversation with my sister yesterday and we discussed how a lot of people give up on life at a certain point. It seems to me that the negative aspects of it all, leads some of us down a path where resistance seems futile. I don't want to be old and bitter about what might have been. I don't want to be aggravated by every little thing. Yet - could it be coming? My son left a grabage bag on the ground and this morning it was torn open and the garbage was strewn about. I let him know that "squirrels got into the garbage." "You sure it wasn't a raccoon?"

Swim, Buddy, Swim

It's real hard not to appreciate the little things in life when you realize what your life might have been like had you not got lucky. This afternoon we headed to the pool at the YMCA because Jake was going to show us that he can swim. Actually, he made a bet with his mother, and his reward was to be a new PSP game console. Kathy had made the bet, believing that it would take Jake through the summer to get even a decent doggy-paddle down. Don't doubt the determination of a Fazzolari. Just a couple of short weeks after the wager, Jake swam across the pool - turned around and did it again. It's been a long time since Jake was sick. He has lived a completely healthy, happy life since the surgery scars healed. Today, as I watched him swim, an undeniable wave of happiness ran through me. In the few short moments it took for him to get to my side after winning his bet, I ran the gamut of emotions. When he arrived at my side, he said, "Are you proud of me?" More than you

First Penance

My boy, Sam, is making his first penance this coming week. He's only 7 - I'm not sure he knows how to sin yet. In fact, I'm sure it's a confusing time for him, as the Catholic church is allowing him the chance to start feeling guilty about every move he makes. I'm still battling the Catholic guilt. In any regard, it brought to mind my first confession. My knees were shaking, and the priest - Father Weiss - scared the living crap out of me. I got into the box and couldn't even see the priest. I struggled through the opening prayer and here is our exchange on my first confessed sin. Me: "I stole a piece of salami out of the 'fridge." Father Weiss: (No doubt stifling laughter) - "Are you sorry for your sin?" Me: "Yes." Father Weiss: "Did you replace what you took?" Me: "No, I ate it." As I was discussing this with my wife, she asked if I were making it up. I swear it is absolutely true. God Bless Father Weiss fo

Writer's News Weekly

I was only 21 years old when I had the idea to write a book. Luckily, I didn't know much about the business or how difficult the process is, or I may have quit before I started. Through the years, I have had a number of very high points in regard to the stories I've written. I feel that I've entertained and helped people from time-to-time. Yet there are also lows. I had an elderly lady show up at one of my signings with the curse words highlighted. "You should be ashamed of yourself," she said. There have also been difficult days as I try to avoid writer's block - or getting stuck in a plot that is sinking fast. Today is a good day - however - I was asked to be a columnist for Writer's News Weekly. Check it out at www.writersnewsweekly.com My publisher has done an excellent job of encouraging the craft. The staff of people at Sterlinghouse care about the writer and the reader. That much is evident in the weekly, quality product that they have presented. Be