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Showing posts from November, 2008

The Carrot

This time of year it is easy to motivate the children. Not only is Christmas just around the corner, but the WWE is also coming to town and thanks to my sister, Corinne, and brother-in-law Chuck, we have great seats. "Clean your room if you want to go to wrestling," or "Let the dogs out if you really want whats on your Christmas list." I have boys hopping around the house to get things done. And thankfully there is usually something that gets you up and out of bed on any given day. Kathy was looking forward to this weekend for shopping purposes - exhausted and full of shopping stories, she sat on the couch last night with eyes that were barely open -"Was it all that you imagined?" I asked. Bruce's new album is out at the end of January. Pitchers and catchers report in February. The Yanks begin their 27th title search in April. There is always something there to attract our attention. Yet what of the days when we are just doing what we do? Does it have

My Hometown

Kind of strange driving through the old hometown when there's nothing to think about but what you're seeing outside the window. The memories have a tendency to come in waves as you recall days gone by. I left my cell phone at my parents home yesterday and being that everything must be just so, it was on my mind as I woke up this morning. I needed my phone - for what, I don't know, but I knew I wouldn't rest until I retrieved it. So I headed off alone - we all know about the shopping, so Kathy was gone, but the boys were also still asleep, so I had a nice, quiet ride into town. I passed by a house where a girl I had a high school crush on used to live. I thought about meeting her parents as a boy, scared that they'd tear my head off. I had a fleeting thought about how her life might have turned out, but it didn't matter much to me now. I drove past the streetlight that we spent hours throwing rocks at on Halley Road. I remember that the kid who eventually broke i

Thank-You

Perhaps what drives us down is our inability to say Thank-You. I've always enjoyed Thanksgiving and not just because I can gorge myself with a clearer conscience then is allowed on the other 364 days of the year - when I am also over-eating. No, Thanksgiving is a day of thanks that always allows me to consider my family and friends. I awoke to the news of the terrorist attack in India, and the headlines screaming that we need to spend some money to get the economy going again. I sort of sifted through the debris of what has happened and centered on a story about George W. pardoning a turkey. They actually made him pardon two turkeys saying that he will probably screw up the first pardon so they better be sure and make him pardon two. He still bungled the speech, but hey pretty soon he'll be back drinking in Texas, leaving us all to live free. Yet I digress - what am I thankful for? I'm thankful to be able to tell Bush jokes and to live in a land where free debate is still p

Working on a Dream

Downloaded the new Springsteen song yesterday and I have to fight myself to not listen to it so much, but I love the idea of working on a dream - climbing the ladder, swinging the hammer, and whistling while he works - all of it. Kind of thought I might find it listenable. Which brings me around to the pre-winter clean-up. If I were pregnant, and some have speculated that I am, I might be doing what is considered as nesting. In any regard, I cleaned the 'fridge, cleaned the junk food cupboard, and finished up the laundry - just like Kevin in my previous post - as pointed out by my sister and brother - I enjoyed the tasks. I even went grocery shopping to re-stock the shelves that I cleaned. Then I turned my attention to the room that is brought into the conversation each and every time Kathy and I have what could be considered an argument - the storage room. As stated daily in this blog - I hate clutter and the storage room has always been cluttered. Over the course of our marriage

God Lives Under the Bed

Received this from a good friend in an e-mail today and really enjoyed the sentiment-especially during Holiday season when such things tend to be overlooked. God Lives Under the Bed I envy Kevin. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed. At least that's what I heard him say one night. He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God?' he said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see. Under the bed...' I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room. Kevin's unique perspectives are often a source of amusement. But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in. He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are few ways in which he is an adult. He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will. He will probably always believe tha

Too Fat to Write a Best-Seller

I must admit that I listen to the Howard Stern Show every day. I feel that all of the characters are true friends and each day I thrill my wife with stories of their antics, but today, I was upset by something about the show, and it has to do with my writing career. Sure, Howard Stern wrote a couple of best-selling books, but now, his sidekick, Artie Lange, has also hit number one on the New York Times Bestsellers list. He laughed when told the news and commented that there were most likely a lot of writers out there who were aggravated by the news. I know of one! It occurs to me that the surest way to garner the number one spot at Amazon.com or the New York Times is to already be a celebrity. Whatever happened to the art of writing? What ever became of carefully creating a plot, establishing some viable characters, and entertaining millions with a structured story of mystery and suspense? I’ve published five novels. I’ve tried my hand at non-fiction and wrote a couple of memoirs that

The Vision

It's the same crap every year. It usually begins around Thanksgiving break and continues on through to the New Year. It's a list of promises made to myself so that I can run leaner and more stress-free through the next year. I'm 44 - it hasn't worked so far, but I can feel the itch beginning. It starts with me cleaning up the closet and file cabinet of old paperwork that seemed important, but is no longer necessary. It stretches into me brainstorming about what I can do to chase away all the demons that threaten my existence on a daily basis - and I'm not talking about evil demons, just the nonsensical ones that cloud up my vision on what life should be like. Anyway, as I considered taking stock in all things important this year I read a great quote about a football player, Kerry Collins, who is an alcoholic, but is doing well fighting off his own personal demons - If you want to love yourself, tell yourself the truth. Man is that a great line - if we all lived by t

Easy Like Sunday Morning

Basically I have not left my house in about four weekends. I'd say I'm going stir-crazy, but I'm not sure what it is I should be doing. I've been on the road a bit during the work week and the thought of getting in the car and going somewhere is absolutely numbing. So, here I sit. Yet there is always Sunday morning to look forward to. When I was a kid the scent of the onions garlic and olive oil always got me up and out of bed. There was usually a discussion of which Mass we'd be attending, and I took a long time reading the sports page. This morning, I started the sauce, and read the paper. Sam was the first out of bed looking for the Las Vegas lines so he could pick the football games in a competition against Matt. It's a tradition handed down from my brother and I and it makes me laugh because I'm living with an 8-year-old bookie. "How is San Diego giving up 2 and a half?" he asked me this morning. "They're just trying to make me pick t

Blind Spot Review - Hamburg Sun - November 20, 2008

November 20, 2008 – The Hamburg Sun, by Sarah Reynolds Local Author Hopes Book Will Somehow Help Readers Cope Losing a child is a nightmare many parents do not want to think about, let alone live through. Parents welcome their children into the world, watch them grow and develop into adults, but when tragedy strikes, the world suddenly takes on a different meaning. Author Cliff Fazzolari, a native of North Collins who now lives in Blasdell, takes on the task to show the tribulations and grief a married couple goes through in his book, Blind Spot . The story begins with the main character, Scott, deciding to leave his wife Cheryl after 18 years of marriage, to embark on a cross-country trip in an effort to make sense of the loss of his child and his marriage. Scott’s journey coincides with the upcoming one-year anniversary of the death of his son, Joshua, who at the age of 17, was killed in an automobile accident. Fazzolari decided to take on the task of writing this story after a lifel

Disturbing Thoughts

Did you ever notice that you can't re-tie just one shoe? If your lace comes loose and you re-tie, guaranteed you'll take two steps and have to re-tie the other one because it won't be as tight. Sometimes I purposely ignore the other one that wants to be re-tied. "You didn't say anything about it until I re-tied the other one," I'll say. People walking by wonder why the hell I'm yelling at my shoelaces. Disturbing story about a teen who killed himself over 12 hours of time by overdosing on medications. The people watching the suicide had a great debate over whether or not the 19-year old had taken a lethal dose. Turns out he did and everyone watched without calling the authorities. I've heard it said that if they publicly executed prisoners it would be the number one rated show on television. Without a doubt - hell, we'd probably fill a stadium watching people get torn limb from limb by lions. I'm still waiting for the Yankees to sign their

Sorry Silda

Well it seems that the hooker who did Spitzer is now a superstar. She was interviewed on national television and explained that she had nothing to be sorry about. She was only sorry when she saw the face of the woman who had been scorned by the ex-gov. All right - prostitution is the world's oldest profession and Spitzer certainly deserves to be disgraced, but how is this woman in the national spotlight? Why do we applaud bad behavior? It is certainly my number one pet peeve, but this Dupre woman goes on national television and tries to strike a sympathetic pose? We're supposed to believe that in the middle of turning tricks she had an epiphany about the marriage that she supposedly wounded? I didn't watch the interview. I wouldn't give her more than a passing moment of my time and only to condemn her words. I'd talk to my buddies about it, but they can't get beyond the fact that the woman is hot. Yeah, she's hot. Hot, stupid, and morally bankrupt, and now f

Go to Bed!

I remember being young and never wanting to go to sleep. I see it now with the boys as we set their bedtime and they slowly nudge it back a bit. We are now through the first report cards of the year and although the boys did okay, there is a firm belief that they can do better. I'm of the opinion,of course, that they work us a bit too much on that standard sleep time. I wish I had a dime for the number of times I've asked why they aren't in bed. So, last night, I re-established the rules. "I want you in your beds at 9 - with lights off at 9:15 for Sam and lights off at 9:30 for Jake. Matt's lights should be off at 10:00. Does everyone understand?" I got 3 nods of the head. "No, I forgot to brush my teeth. No, I need to drop flipper off at the harbour (you can guess what that means). No, I need to tell Mom something." 3 more nods of the head. We finished prayers at 8:45. They immediately brushed their teeth - and I suffered through another 15 minutes

We'll Get 'Em Next Year

The city is in darkness this morning. There is a din of denial and a feeling of emptiness on each and every street. The Bills lost again last night. Four in a row after such a promising start. It seems that all hope is lost. The town will now suffer not only from four straight Super Bowl losses, but also the indignity of having the team with the longest playoff drought in the parity-driven NFL. (Arizona will break their string this year). So what? 73,000 crazed fans filled the Ralph last night. The place was absolutely crazy for the start of the game. People without shirts, people with painted faces. Signs that proclaimed Buffalo as the number one NFL city. As I watched the start of the game - I didn't even consider watching the whole thing -(I was gone by halftime) - I thought of the Super Bowl years and how proud I was to see the city represented to an entire world. I guess now I worry more about hospitals, libraries and museums closing. Yet I'm not Bills bashing here- I'

Running Out of Water

Maybe it's the icy cold air, or the steel grey skies, or the fact that it seems to be daylight for only about 6 minutes. Perhaps it's hearing a sad story of a life ending way too early, but I have been battling the blues a little over the last couple of days. Not that it affects me all that much, but any little statement can drive me down. I sort of revel in being stuck in the darkness on the edge of town, so know that I'm okay - it makes me write more. In any regard, I read a report today that said that there will be a major problem with drinking water by the year 2080, and it made me sad. Not because I will be here and be thirsty - I'd be 115 as the calender flips to that year and I did way too much damage to my body to possibly be kicking by then - but I felt bad because I won't be here! Perhaps its about hearing about a date in the way too far future that makes you feel your own mortality, but damn, I was wiped out today knowing that somewhere off in the distanc

Thinking of You

When I started writing I had one goal - to write something that maybe meant something to someone other than myself. This is a lame attempt at that. This weekend I heard of a friend of a friend, and a reader of mine, who suffered a tragic, life-changing loss. I can't even begin to explain the hurt that comes along with such an event and I suppose that for the first time ever, I'm speaking to just one particular reader - not sure if you are of the mind to even read such a condolence, but here goes... There are a lot of people thinking of you and hurting for you. There are plenty of people praying for you, and grieving your loss with you. In the difficult hours, days, weeks and months ahead, there are people who will help see you through. I was speaking with a person who is close to you, and there were so many questions and not even one good answer - other than that there is still hope, and faith, and love in your life. "What do I say at a time like this?" that person as

The Worst

The kids were discussing NFL quarterbacks this morning. Matt mentioned that one guy was the worst quarterback ever. I realize that kids have a tendency to exaggerate, and my mind did a quick flip through some of the worst quarterbacks I'd seen in my lifetime. Chances are the guys playing now don't fall into the category of the worst of all-time. All-time is a long time. And it got me thinking... there was an article about George W. leaving the White House. He spoke of wondering about what he'll do with his time - after all his vacations to Camp David will be cut out, right? Yet I felt a twinge of compassion for him. Seriously. I felt bad that he was going from being surrounded by security to relative anonymity in retirement. Old presidents usually walk around like privileged citizens with all the money they stole, er, earned tucked away. They write memoirs (I'm thinking a pop-up book) and establish libraries. Every once in awhile they are called out to be the face of th

Path of Consequence

Listening to Jay Thomas yesterday on Sirius radio I was reminded of the website where one can go to cheat on their spouse, discreetly, for $49. For some reason the thought of it sort of blows me away. There are 4 million members of this club. With roughly 50 million marriages in this country and many more cheating without shelling out $49 - it is a sad commentary on the state of marriage in this country. And the gays want it? As the joke goes, let them share in the misery. Yet there was a woman caller to the show who said that she started using the service because after health issues her husband was unable to perform in the matter she was accustomed to. She explained that "she wasn't doing anything wrong." She argued that it was a good service that provided the necessary goods to keep her happy in her marriage. One of the hosts asked if her husband knew she was a whore. And it struck me as odd. I have no doubt that the woman felt justified in her discreet affair. No doubt

Soothe the Savage Beast

I remember it as if it were yesterday. My mother treated me, my sister, and my brother to an album. I'm not sure what the occasion was, but I remember the music albums that we each received - Corinne chose Damn the Torpedoes by Tom Petty , John got Glass Houses by Billy Joel , and I picked Slow Train Coming by Bob Dylan. So, I'm figuring the year was about 1980 or so. I can remember what the album looked like in my hands. I believe that I can still sing every song off of each album because we played them to death - you ain't lived until you've heard Dylan sing about the slow train coming around the bend. In any regard I've always been a collector of albums, then tapes, and now CD's. I've replaced all of my favorites each time technology passed me by, but I'm kind of stuck in the buying the whole album trap. I don't know how to download songs. Instead, I read the paper and wait for my favorite artists to release their new "albums". Of course

It's All Bad News

There are currently ten million people out of work. General Motors is on the verge of pulling the plug, California is burning, and some nutcase killed herself in front of Paula Abdul's house because she didn't make it on American Idol . Recently the battle brewing around our house centers on the cartoon South Park - The boys are not allowed to watch it and they're not happy. The other night, Jake, trying to understand, wondered why he was allowed to watch other shows that are on when he is just as liable to hear garbage talk on them. Matt and Jake must leave the room when 48 Hours Mystery and CSI are on also - there is just too much information for the kids out there. "What about the news?" he asked. "All they talk about on there is people being murdered or getting arrested." "You probably shouldn't watch that, either," I said. "Even when I go on the Internet there are bad stories," Jake argued. "You shouldn't read those

Big City Blues

My plane to Baltimore was scheduled to leave at 6 AM so I set the alarm for 4 and went to bed by 9:30. I was awake by 2:30 and was too worried about missing the alarm to go back to sleep. So off I went. I took a shuttle to the terminal, struggled to get my shoes off to get through security, waited 45 minutes to board, and was already exhausted by the time the plane left Buffalo. I arrived in Baltimore, but was scheduled to be onsite in Arlington, Virginia so I took a shuttle from the terminal to the Amtrak station. I took the Amtrak to the Subway and caught two trains to Arlington. I arrived at 8 AM - ready for a little nap. We visited the site, took an elevator up on the side of the building, stayed for better than 3/4 of the day, took three subway rides to Fairfax where I got a cab to the hotel. All the while traffic buzzed all around with thousands and thousands of people hustling for space. The next day it was more subway rides, another Amtrak trip, a traffic jam in front of the Wh

The Odd Couple

On November 13th Felix Unger was asked to remove himself from his place of residence. That request came from his wife. Every November 13th I think of that line and it's not because the Odd Couple was one of my favorite all-time shows - its also because I could feel the pain caused by being asked to remove yourself from your place of residence. Lately there have been a ton of husband killing estranged wife murders in the news. There was an absolutely tragic story here in Niagara Falls of a man shooting his wife, holing himself up in a hotel room and two days later shooting himself. Man - how does it get to that? In the Odd Couple Felix was always proclaiming his love for his estranged wife. The conversations with Oscar usually centered around what he needed to do to become a better person so that Gloria would take him back. In the back of my mind, I knew that they belonged together and at the end of the long run, it happened for them, didn't it? The inability of people to see th

Sic 'Em Barney

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Last week the big story was that the Bush dog snapped at a reporter. I imagine that George and Laura locked up the dog before having the Obama's over for a visit today. Actually the turning over of the keys is a good photo opportunity for all. It's a chance for both parties to put aside their differences for a stroll through the rose garden. Yet if there were only hidden microphones! We sometimes have to entertain guests that we don't want to stay too long. I can imagine George and Laura discussing it the night before the Obama's arrived: George - "What time are they getting here and what time are they getting the hell out?" Laura - "Come on, Georgie, be nice." George - "We only get two more months in this mansion and they have to pop in for a visit. I mean, come on. What's he want? My body isn't even cold yet." Laura - "Perhaps we can have Barney greet them." George - (letting loose with an evil laugh) - "That's

Turnaround Toys

Every once in awhile people will do something that is surprisingly thoughtful. In a day and age when things are usually of the me-first variety, genuine compassion for our fellow man is certainly lacking. My sister-in-law, Lynn, who is usually devoid of big ideas - and who is quite used to my teasing, by the way - has initiated a program where she accepts toys that have outgrown their usefulness in their current homes and turns them around to less fortunate children who might never have a chance at getting something nice. It's a grand idea and one that deserves praise because she has worked hard to get the job done. It is easy to be dismissive about those that are less fortunate - I can hear people crying all over this great nation that there are no free lunches and that we should be responsible for our own. In short, I agree with that sentiment, but on a much grander scale there are families out there who can't get the job done and can't get their children the toys that ar

Johnny Get Your Gun

Man there isn't anything in the world that will get people in more of an uproar than threatening to take away their guns. Ted Nugent and the NRA will be all over your ass if you even mutter that there are so many guns on the streets that something needs to be done. There are people right now quaking in their boots because Obama may be against having semi-automatics in the neighborhoods. Common sense, must once again prevail. I don't think it will, but here goes - when they asked Sarah Palin about the right to bare arms - she said, "You betcha', I always wear short-sleeves." When they explained they were talking about guns she quickly took control telling them all about the caribou she took down. Which is okay with me - I have a lot of good friends who swear by hunting as a sport. Have at it - I golf and that too seems senseless sometimes. You want to shoot something, clean it, and eat it, be my guest - seems like a macho thing to do. I'll get my fresh turkey f

"Son, You're a Drunken Mess"

Football, of course, is a violent sport. The players smash into each other on every play. A buddy of mine once told me that the impact felt is kind of like starting at the end of your driveway and running as fast as you can into your closed garage door. The combatants are fired up and so are the fans. They say that the fans of the losing team of the Super Bowl are more apt to go home and beat their wives - statistically there were lots of beatings going on in Western New York homes in the early 90's. And yet, it is almost acceptable behavior. People tailgate before the games, drink the $7 beers during the game and then drink some more waiting for the parking lot to clear. The drinking is fast and violent, the same way the game is played. You know how I know so much? I was there a ton of times in the '90's. This past weekend there were better than 50 arrests at the game. There was a fatal accident attributed to a drunk driver. The names of the couple having sex in the bathro

How 'Bout this Weather?

A couple of weeks back I met a guy on a job site for the very first time. From the moment we shook hands until the moment we parted company he bitched and moaned about everything under the sun. He cried about how hard he was working, the lack of cooperation he was getting on the site, the color of his coffee after the waitress added cream, and the company that I was representing. Now usually I'm an easy enough guy to get along with, but slowly and surely, he got on my nerves. "What'd you shit the bed this morning?" I finally asked him. "Ah, don't mind me," he said. "I enjoy making myself miserable. Besides, who do you know that's happy?" I talked to a few other people who met this man and they all said the same thing - he just hates being alive. Well, it's 70 degrees here in Buffalo today. I saw a couple of people moving around in shorts. In the past week I've gone from the Carhartt to no coat at all. It's Friday; the dogs are h

Client #9 Revisited

Did you ever not swear when the stapler runs out of staples? It's a colossal pain in the ass because I'm usually in a hurry and I normally just need one more staple and bam - nothing - then I have to search for the extra staples and load the damn gun - and whack the first pop never works and I have to reposition the staples. Ah hell, I told you I'm more relaxed these days. Spitzer is not being charged for his happy hooker times. Let's get this straight - he hires a hooker in New York - pays for her to travel across state lines, launders the freaking money, does the crap about 3500 times that we know of - and he doesn't even get charged? I'd say what if that were me, but I'm not stupid enough, classless enough, or assholish enough to do such a thing. Assholish isn't a word? It should be. Okay I'm already sick of Oprah Winfrey celebrating as if Jesus is here to run the country. Yes - like I've said - a heartwarming story that racism took a jolt - s

Election Free Post

I'm burnt out on the political talk. It's over for now and then the real fight begins. So what to do now? The Yanks are going to open the wallet in the next thirty days so I'm sure that will capture my interest. Who knows if the Bills or Sabres will keep us interested around Buffalo. I'm about to lose my wife as a conversationalist as for the next 40 days or so as daily, we're going to discuss the bargains she found to fill the ever-expanding Christmas wish list. Jake just got braces and today is the seven year anniversary of his very successful surgery. It got me thinking. What did I learn in 7 years? First and foremost its about the people around me, stupid. For years I chased my own tail, writing the next story, earning the next dollar, waiting for the next Yankee banner, or the next Bruce concert. Instead, I have spent time enjoying the journey. Listen to this - I actually feel invigorated finishing the laundry, or picking up the dog poop in the backyard. I love

America Has Spoken

I woke up this morning to those words. The election seemed to me a little like a baseball playoff game - it dragged on so long. The second thing I saw? Jesse Jackson crying - not sure I needed that. Yet it is a story - a black man elected President - it does show the depth of America - racism is not over, but on that point we scored. Yet the vote yells of a landslide victory - to be honest there were millions against the president-elect. Red states, blue states - it doesn't matter, because now, we need to see how it will work. There were critics of President-Elect Obama who decried his lack of experience. Here comes the experience! Halfway through with everything seemingly tanking, I wondered why anyone would want the job. Hope and change? Who knows? Better feelings about America throughout the world? Most likely - we can't go much further backwards. Yet America has spoken not for a candidate, but for some sort of change. No matter who won -that was the rallying cry. A lot of t

Catching Up on the News

--- Five homeless people shot dead in their makeshift beds in Long Beach, California. It truly makes me want to vomit. People are not dispensable. Every creation has a purpose. As the text message goes - WTF? --- The Bills have lost two in a row and 3 of 4 and now they are going to New England. I predicted them to lose and they did. I predicted them to win and they lost. I confused myself on what was bringing them luck. They are going to tie New England next week. 20-20 after overtime expires. --- Its a shame that Obama's grandmother died two days before election. Win or lose, it would have been nice if she had the chance to see it through. Person to person, that's a heavy heart on a big night. --- How about the kid who got shot on Halloween night with an AK-47. I don't begrudge anyone their right to own a gun to hunt and shoot cans - shooting trick-or-treaters is a moral dilemma for me, though. Having an AK-47 ready at the door is also a problem in judgement. --- I see tha

I'm a Republican

The kids came home from school today excited by the fact that school is closed tomorrow due to the elections. Even more exciting was the fact that today they had the chance to vote. "How'd it go?" I asked Sam. "4 votes for McCain, and 11 votes for Obama," he said. "And Jake?" "We don't have a lot of Democrats," Jake said. "McCain won by three. My class is full of Republicans." "Are you a Democrat or a Republican?" I asked. "I have no idea." Yet the neighbor kid was over just a little while later. "I voted for McCain," he said proudly, "because I'm a Republican." "What's a Republican?" I asked. "I have no idea," he said. "I just hate Obama." So, there we have it. Children from the ages of 8 thru 11 have spoken. It's a dead heat. The 8-year-olds are for Obama and the 11-year-olds are for McCain. Given the fact that there are more 8-year olds than 11

GoBama!

I walked around a jobsite today with a black man who wanted to let his voice be heard - everywhere he went, and by everyone he saw - he said - GoBama! "You should keep your political views to yourself," I said. "People don't want you stuffing your opinions down their throat." "That hurts coming from you," he said. Yet he asked me a few times who I was voting for - I offered only that I wasn't a big GW fan. Yet it also occurred to me that this election - like no other - has become almost like a sporting event - I imagine that the returns tomorrow night will be viewed by millions. It's no different than any other big contest - and man, did we have some excitement in this race, huh? From Palin-to-Biden-To-SNL-to the preacher-to-Hilliary-and on and on. Yet there is so much at stake. My buddy stopped to visit a union pipe fitter. "GoBama!" he said. "What the hell do you know?" the pipe fitter asked. "GoBama!" my buddy a

We Are the People

To get into the election mood - what's really at stake here - it has to be a group effort - we're all riders on this train. We Are the People - John Mellencamp If you're feeling shut down, may my thoughts be with you. If you're a black man being beat down and shoved all around, may my thoughts be with you. If your world is getting a little too tough, you know our thoughts are with you. We are the people and we live forever We are the people and our future's written on the wind, on the wind. If you are one of the homeless may our thoughts be with you If you are scared and alone you know our thoughts are with you If you are one of the fortunate ones we all know its lonely up there we understand that nobody's got it made so our thoughts are with you. We are the people and we live forever We are the people and our future's written on the wind, on the wind. You see yourself as a leader, may my thoughts be with you If you try to di

We Want Fuzzy!

It's certainly funny how your mind plays tricks on you. I took Sam to swim class today and waited for him in the school gymnasium. The basketball nets were down, the scoreboard was posted high above the front rim and the school's logo "Wildcats" was emblazoned on the floor. As I walked through the center of the tip-off circle, I thought of playing high school basketball and all the fun I had. I remembered that we had a tip-off play where Chris would tap it to Joe while Al streaked to the basket and scored on a layup. It worked every time. 2-0 North Collins! I thought of the bleachers filled with students and all the girls who we had crushes on watching us warm up. I was always afraid of raising my arms because I didn't have any armpit hair - I'd stand at the foul line and my coach would be screaming "Fuzzy -hands up!" I didn't start a lot of games because I couldn't do anything but shoot the ball. Yet I became a fan favorite of sorts when I t