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Showing posts from April, 2009

Why Are Those Flys Circling Your Head?

Got on a plane this morning and listened to four or five people sneeze - thought of the swine flu every time and about how easy it would be to spread from person to person. Though back to sitting at the birthday party on Sunday - after eating a half-pound of pasta and taking a couple of basketball shots with a still sore toe - heard my niece saying that the mosquito's were following me as though I were a ---- swine. Can it be that in this day and age that we can contract such a disease or is it all an idea of over-eager imaginations? If it were up to my wife we'd all be wearing dust masks to ward off the disease, but I am clearly on the other side of the ledger. I feel as if it is all a scare tactic caused by imaginations that are too quick to respond to the Chicken Little Syndrome of living in this day by day, over exaggerated media driven, bullshit world. Then again.... I have been conditioned to understand that the sky can fall and that all of your worst fears may certainly

What Does This Button Do?

There are going to be a lot of firsts in this grief period - and yesterday was the first birthday party. My niece Andrea was celebrating her birthday and we all got together at John and Dana's for pasta and cake. It was a beautiful day in nearly every single way. The young kids were shooting hoops and with supervision, fishing tadpoles out of the pond. The food was good, the sun was shining, the drinks were cold, and Jeff's kids were running around, enjoying the day. Since Jeff's death my brothers and I have taken turns at being there for our niece and nephews - it's been a joy and my heart actually aches for them when they are not around. Rocco, who is nearly three, is always excited to see me, jumping in my arms, just wanting me to hold him. No problem there. Rocco also likes to pull up my shirt and poke at my belly button, asking me each time, "What does this button do?" I tell him that it blows up cities, and when he presses it I yell out, "Oh no, the

Thank You for Being a Friend

When I was in college my priorities were a tad screwed up. I learned not to schedule Friday morning classes because there was quarter draft nights at Antler's and with 5 bucks Fluffy, Rosie and I could paint the town red. I also learned not to schedule classes between 10 AM and 11 AM - any day because Benson and the Golden Girls were on. We'd gather around the television, a tad hungover and watch the madcap adventures of the Lieutenant Governor, and four old broads who were always trying to get a little something. I defy you to watch either show and not laugh a little. Recently I was flipping around the dial and saw Bea Arthur's face and hoped it was the Golden Girls - I started watching and Jake walked in - "Dude, what're you watching?" he asked. "Golden Girls, it's funny," I said. (I was a little embarrassed). "Dad, Grandma watches this show." "So, it's good," I answered. "Toughen up, Nancy," Jake said and ran

Power of Prayer

I woke up this morning at first light because the birds were singing so joyfully outside my window. I listened to one particularly annoying bastard for a long time as my heart and mind got ready for the new day. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was part of the way through an Our Father and then a Hail Mary . The nuns instilled a need to pray that had been reinforced over and over as I grew to become an adult. We say a prayer together as a family each night too, so I imagine that I have probably developed a lifelong habit in my children. Yet today, as has been happening since, oh say early March, I cut the prayer short. Midway through the Hail Mary , I stopped. And that bastard bird kept singing. My human-hindered mind stopped me short because the question behind my still closed eyes was "What the hell good am I doing?" And I considered each and every statement of love that was popping into my partially closed mind. All of the statements made by the nuns came rushing ba

Call Me Oprah!

During the recently lost writing career, I often dreamed that Oprah would choose Counting on a Miracle or House of Miracles to highlight on her show. If she reads the blog, know that both books are worthy. Yet lately none of the silly illusions have worked to distract me from the turmoil of day-to-day life. It's funny, but the hopes and dreams of yesterday ring somewhat hollow these days. It's almost like why make plans? Now of course, I know that the above-mentioned feelings have been nurtured by the events of the past few months, but the transparency of life is evident when the essential elements are exposed. So what would happen if Oprah called now? It would no longer be about selling so many books that I wouldn't be able to walk down the street without being recognized -not that such a scenario ever appealed to me. It wouldn't be about having so much money that I could just retire and get a nap each day (which is still my lifelong goal). Instead it would be about te

The Definition of an Idiot

When I was eating seafood again, on the 2nd night, after already experiencing symptoms of the gout, my wife watched me and then very casually mentioned to my kids that I was the very definition of an idiot. Turns out, she was sooooooooo right. How I rue that 2nd day of seafood. Yet it also got me thinking about the definition of an idiot. I suppose that it truly is someone who does something time and again expecting a different result. Kind of like going into Iraq twice without an exit plan. Kind of like getting back behind the wheel to drive after you've been drinking and have already experienced the thrill of a DWI. Kind of like root, root, rooting for the home team when you know they don't spend enough money to really compete. Kind of like re-electing people to the senate, term after term after term when you know they've never done anything. Kind of like believing that there won't be new taxes and the guy speaking on election-day eve is really for the working man. Ki

So This is How I'm Supposed to Eat?

I started my day with a bowl of bran cereal - it sucked. I ate it quickly, a half-hour after waking, because I'm told I should. At lunch - nothing but fruit - cherries actually because they are supposed to be good for the gout - they sucked too. Whoever said life is a bowl of cherries never had to eat them and drink the juice because his big toe was throbbing. At night, I ate the same thing I've had three nights in a row - pasta, garlic, onion, and broccoli. Actually yesterday I had it with peas, and the night before with spinach. I have not had a single piece of meat since Saturday. All of this in an effort to get rid of the pain in my foot. A couple of posts back a man contacted me - he had written a book about living with the pain of gout - God Bless him - I'm going to have to read that. It must have really driven him crazy to write a book about it, huh? Yet today also started with my car battery dead again. I must have made a hell of a scene this morning for the neighbo

Spare Parts and Broken Hearts...

...keeps the world turning. Through the years I've watched others suffer losses of epic proportions and it would always consume me as I wondered how they suffered through life carrying a broken heart along with them. Now I know: Not very well. There are moments when the sadness just overwhelms you - and times when you simply shake your head and wonder why it went down like it went down. There are days when you don't feel like doing much at all, but you forge ahead, determined not to be whipped by life. Sometimes you wear the sadness like a veil - it feels like the heavy clouds are pressing down on your head - and still you try and endure. When it happens like this, the best advice I have is to take it one moment at a time - one task after another until the day is done. Life isn't designed to be lived in such a manner, but live it you must. And still, there will be moments - innocent moments that rip at your heart as you do the usual things - like seeing the old e-mail addre

Has It Really Been Ten Years?

The Columbine massacre happened ten years ago yesterday. The multiple murders by rampaging troubled teens was going to change the way we lived our lives, wasn't it? The nation was shocked by the violence, and vowed that it would never happen again. We've had three similiar massacres in the past month, haven't we? Certainly it wasn't a high school and there weren't kids involved this year, but what about the Virginia Tech massacre? As usually happens on the anniversary of such a horrible atrocity, we are forced to relive it all. Yesterday the circumstances were spelled out again - Hitler's Birthday, Trench Coat Mafia - didn't their parents notice that something was awry? Were there warning signals to the school administrators? Going into schools these days there are metal detectors and security guards on duty. All doors are locked, as they should be, and parents are forced to hold their breath when they put their kids on the bus in the morning. Have we learne

How Am I?

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I felt like flipping off Mickey Mouse, so that should show you the general mood. I woke this morning feeling energized - ready to go back to work. First step onto the floor was oh so painful as the gout is ripping me up. No matter - I would tough it out - I put on my shoe and toughed it out for the kids to see. I hit the driveway and almost ducked my head low enough to not make contact with the roof of my car as I bent down to start the car prior to letting the dogs out - the pain in my toe was forgotten as I smacked my head. "Watch your coconut," my nephew would have said. With a throbbing coconut, I turned the key and quickly noted that my battery was dead. I had to have the car battery jumped and my wife pulled up close and we got the job done. Still undaunted, I told her thanks for the jump, smiled and left. The first job I visited had a scaffold six tier high and I straightened my back and climbed the ladder. "Why you limping?" the foreman asked. "Because

Finding Nemo

At Disney World we all decided to visit the Finding Nemo ride. Kathy was trumpeting the cuteness of the ride, and I was happy to get into the small boat so that I didn't have to walk for a few minutes. We took the ride through the underground cave as a narrator told us the story of how Nemo got lost, was chased by a big shark, and then thankfully arrived at the happy conclusion. We stepped off the ride and Sam turned to his older brothers - "Oh Thank God that worked out," he said. "I was sooooooo scared when Nemo got lost. I was heartbroken, really. I was thinking, 'My God, I hope Nemo gets back safely.'" Jake and Sam were laughing along. It was just Sam's way of poking fun at Kathy because she had put us on a ride that they considered a little lame. "There were tears running down my face when I realized that Nemo was lost!" Sam said. "Over and over, I prayed that Nemo would be found, and then when I saw that shark, Oh, God, I can'

Miracles, Miracles & Miracles -The Wall at Epcot/A Brilliant Family/Wonderful Sunrise

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Let's Get Our Heads Shaved

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Twenty something years ago I visited Florida with my bro - he insisted we shave our heads before we left and despite the fact that I'd just started my first professional job, I did it. I shaved my head this week too - knowing that it was funny enough to do it again. There seems to be a striking difference between me in the two photos. Some people age well, right? Not me.

The Gout

I love seafood - all of it - and so do my boys. So, on a day where it was raining a bit and we were beat from walking Epcot, I loaded up - lobster tails, scallops, crab, clams, and shrimp - I cooked it all with a little help from a dirty martini - thanks Carrot (I got more Goose) - and just as I placed all the food on the table, I grabbed my camera, raised it to take a photo, and in my head said - "Hey Chef, what do you think of that spread?" The Stevie Wonder song ended as the camera raised - and no shit - before I snapped the photo - Born to Run blasted through the speakers. I lowered the camera with tears in my eyes and Kathy said, "What?" "Do you hear the song?" I asked. Coincidence? That one rocked me! So, I ate like I was going to the chair and was almost immediately blessed with the gout. I couldn't even put my foot on the floor. We walked around Magic Kingdom for 12 hours yesterday too - I hope no one got a photo of a slightly overweight, bald

Still Getting Burned

I don't know why I believe that my Italian-American skin can't get sunburned - twenty beers following a few bloody mary's made me brave. Today I'm like the tinman before they hit him with the oil can. Spent the day at Epcot yesterday and actually felt a miracle. I had been on the beach with my sister, Carrie, the day before. Yesterday, walking into Epcot with Kathy and the boys, I stopped at the wall of dedication - which is about six miles long. Sam was standing with me - I turned to him and said - "What's this all about?" I walked to the first tiny plaque - I'll put the photo up later - that said: "To Jeff. I Miss You. We all love you. Love Carrie." Coincidences? There were easily ten thousand dedications on that wall - and I honestly only looked at one. Feeling burned, but rising......

Relentless

Let me set the scene, I was sitting on a beach chair, high on a balcony, with a full moon hanging in the sky, throwing light onto the water. It was just after midnight with the promise of a new day staring me in the face. The wife and kids were tucked safely into bed, and my sister had bailed just after I opened another Heineken Light. I thought of all the days in my life leading up to that very moment, and I concentrated on just one star shining brightly. Over and over, the waves rolled into shore - not a violent collision by any means, but a relentless force that couldn't be stopped. And I considered life through the clouded eyes of just the perfect amount of beer, music, and family. And I realized that it was still going to go - all of this was still going to continue and that the dark days of the past few months were eventually going to fade deep into the recesses of an over-tired mind. And I thought about Easter and rising again. I thought of having faith renewed in a mindless

The Roman Empire

I stepped on the scale yesterday for the first time in about two years. It wasn't so bad. In fact, I was about 10 lbs lower than I thought after stopping at my brother Jim's and eating four lobster tails, a 1/2 pound of pasta, and a little tomato and cucumber salad - (the salad is to keep my vegetable count up). During the meal my sister Corinne said, "You know what this reminds me of?" And I answered, "What? The Roman Empire?" Yet all in all, a good day that ended with me on the scale wondering how bad it was? And like I say, I was pleasantly surprised. Not high school weight -I graduated high school at 135. Not college weight - I ended my freshman year at 196 - which prompted my mother to say - "Are you the guy who ate my son?" Not even first few years of marriage weight - hey, she married me anyway. Yet, not morbidly obese yet either. I mentioned the weight to my brother and brother-in-law, and they were okay with it too - hell they were shoveli

Have a Good Friday

Whenever I think of Good Friday, I recall the Stations of the Cross played out in church when I was just a mere lad. The ceremony seemed to go on forever and I was always next to Father Weiss, never really getting the cue as to when I was supposed to stand and when I was supposed to kneel. It all seemed to be a long blur of deep-knee bends and hurried prayers. I also think of the Good Friday morning when my brother Jim prepared breakfast for the family. We were about halfway through the steak and eggs when my mother dropped her fork and said - "Steak! It's Good Friday, you goofy bastard." I finished my breakfast anyway. If I was going to pay for that sin with time in purgatory, I was damn sure finishing up the breakfast. We also stayed pretty much silent around the house when noon hit. Jesus died for us sometime between noon and three, as the story goes. When I was a kid, I wondered why that took so dang long too. I've been teetering on a shaky ledge lately, with soli

I'm Not Much of An Atheist

My kids love the battles of good versus evil. In many respects it is the story of the world and almost every movie pits some form of a man in a white hat against a man in a black hat. Last night I let the dogs out and looked straight up at the high moon and the brilliant stars twinkling in the night sky - "You suck!" I yelled as I looked up, and then the real battle of good and evil sort of struck me behind the eyes. I remembered something that the nuns told me years ago about how God was in a fight against the evil in the world, and that man had brought sin down on their own heads by committing the original sin. The nuns explained that the blessings were handed out by God, but that evil originated elsewhere - perhaps Satan! I always figured that the nuns were biased, but looking at the brilliant night sky, I sort of dug deep to understand that my anger was certainly misdirected. God doesn't cause pain - God can't guard against the flaws of man. God must have a grand

Rumplestillsken Sucks (Is that how that dude spells his name?)

When the kids were real young the sleep deprivation was absolutely mind-numbing. All of the joy of being a parent was nearly sucked away with the feeling that I was half-zombie, half-human. I'm back riding the same train. Last night I Tylenol-PM'd it and turned on the blanket well before getting into bed. I settled the blankets, made sure my feet were under the sheets, read a little, and decided that this was the night when it all came together for me. I had worked hard all day, the family was wild with excitement about the upcoming vacation - I was set. I settled in a little before ten. I looked at the clock again at 10:35. I was up and out of bed at 11. I started playing peek-a-boo with the clock, finally turning it away from me at about 11:45. "I'm never going to freaking sleep again," I said as I hammered the pillow - and then I didn't remember going to sleep. I should have remembered it because I only slept for 45 minutes or so. Up at 1:00, back to sleep

Can't Be Separated

A couple of years ago in a playoff game, with the Yanks season hanging in the balance, and a runner on 3rd with two outs, Hideki Matsui came to bat. My brother Jeff was never a huge fan, figuring that Matsui should have brought more power with him from Japan. Before the 1st pitch to Matsui in that clutch situation, the telephone rang and Jeff said, "Here's your boy, bet he makes an out." I made the bet and cringed as I did so because even the best major leaguer is only successful 3 out of 10 times. On the fifth pitch of the at-bat Matusi popped it up to the catcher. Before the ball settled into the catcher's glove the phone rang again, but it wasn't Jeff calling, it was his five-year-old son, Johnny - "Matsui is a blankety-blank," Johnny said as clear as a bell. Now the blankety-blank he mentioned was about the worst words you can imagine in the English language - I almost fell off the couch, but I heard Jeff howling in the background. When he grabbed th

Opening Day

There is something special about opening day. I can certainly recall the events of at least ten of them, including listening to the radio for one in the mid-90's as I pretended to work. Thankfully, the Yanks weren't scheduled to open until 4:00 today so even with a regular workday I will be able to catch most of the game. Of course, I'm anticipating it with a lump in my throat. I'm not quite sure how it'll work this year - I do have Sam to give updates, and perhaps some of my other Yankee buddies can jump up and send texts on the days when I can't be there to watch the game. The thing about it was that I always knew where my bro would be for the game - if he was working - I was on-duty to give updates - if I were working - he'd call anytime the score changed. So, with all that in mind - a fellow Yankee fan called me today to give me a bit of encouragement. My long-time friend also shared feelings of grief and the best way to step around some of the shit I

A Lasting Tribute

A mere two days before he got sick my brother ordered three half-sides of beef. It was an annual ritual that set me, him and our buddy Mike, up with filled to the gill freezers. The only problem each year was that someone had to go and pick up the thousand pounds of beef and distribute it to each home. This year when he called Jeff said, "I ordered it and it'll be in the first week in April which gives you enough time to set up an excuse not to help us pick it up." I helped Mike pick it up yesterday and thought of Jeff skipping out on the task. With each bag of hamburger that I tugged into every empty space in the freezer I thought of honoring him with every bite of that meat, and don't get me wrong, we'll eat every cubed steak and piece of stew meat. Yet it also got me thinking of honoring him each day. I'm working on the story of his life and alternating between laughing and crying. I also had Mom and Dad by for dinner last night and we shared a wonderful st

Today's Mass Shooting

Today we have Pittsburgh, PA. Yesterday it was Binghamton. Last week was the nursing home. Anyone noticing that the people are revolting a bit? I don't recall a year where they have been so many rampages and the mental state of all the shooters appears to be about the same - out of a job, fighting with a former spouse, afraid that their guns are going to be taken away. So the answer is to shoot everyone in your path? I don't quite get the reasoning. Now you don't have a chance at another job, or another spouse, and you can bet your ass they're going to take your guns away. Of course, the shooter also shoots himself, so that about closes the book on it. Here's an idea - you feel despondent and want to take yourself out - try not to take anyone else with you. The main problem, of course, is that you have no idea where the next lunatic is going to strike. Nursing homes, schools, immigration centers, they are all open for business it seems. People are afraid that Obama

Time

We don't have anything more precious than time do we? I spend a lot of my time, running around, wishing that I had more time to do all the things I need to do. Most recently I have been considering that I need just five more minutes of time with my brother. Yet that is time you can't get back and I suppose that with that in mind I am being more giving of my time. I no longer stop the kids when they want to tell me run-on stories about the latest wrestling matches - I vow not to cut them off - ever again. Don't know how long that vow will last because Sam can really talk. I also want to make time to stop and see my parents - not that there was a huge problem in this regard, but a little more time talking with them is always good for my mental grind. I do wish I had five more minutes with Jeff, but it is not a regret by any means - my brothers and sisters have always been my best friends and when it comes to my relationship with each and every one of them I don't have eve

Here Comes Baseball

There's a distinct feel to the air - baseball season is almost here and sports doesn't get any better than that. Box scores, Yankee games, something always on television. My number one Yankee fan isn't shouting at botched umpire calls right along with me, but I'll bet it'll be a good year this year. It better be. Yet the thing that makes me miss baseball so much is all of the ugly sports on television. I like betting football, it's a bit monotonous to watch, and hockey is back to like watching paint dry. My favorite part of a hockey game is watching the time tick away on a power play. College basketball always catches my interest, but only because I'm betting on it - and I still might win - go Tar Heels. Yet there's something about baseball. When I lived in Baltimore I went to over 40 O's games and they lost all but one. I drank beer with friends, sat in the sweltering heat and watched the pitchers throw and the hitters hit. I've always felt bett

8-Minute Mile

One of the tough days in this little journey of grief. I started the day by listening to a motivational speaker - Chad Hymus - a great speaker and perhaps an even more courageous man. He broke his neck in an accident 8 years ago and now he goes around helping people see clear as to what's important. I wasn't crying because it hadn't dawned on me as to what was important, ah hell, you know. Then I had a Bruce lyric stuck in my head, and not an uplifting one: Well now our truth lay shattered - I stood at world's end as the dead sun rose in view. Well if any of this matters - with a kiss my friend, let me show you what love can do. Not the best thing to have swimming in your head when you're down. The dead sun rising into view kind of sets you off, but still... to endure. I was desperate. I decided to exercise. I went to the YMCA with thoughts of an 8-minute mile running through my head. I won't tell you what I clocked in at, suffice to say, I'm not 18. I sat

We Need to Impeach Obama

Ran into an ironworker on a job yesterday who was convinced that Obama has to go - right now! "He's going to ruin this country," he said. "What? Is he going to put us in a war with no end where we waste money under false pretenses?" I asked. "I hear you. I wasn't a fan of Bush, but economically he's spending way too much money. We don't have that kind of money," he tried. "Because all the fat cats stole it under the not-so-watchful eye of the last eight years?" "That wasn't all Bush's fault," he said. "The socialistic approach to government put us in this bind." Now I had heard that argument before and it is certainly what Rush is preaching, so I let it go. If there's a way to still blame this on Clinton then that's how the argument goes. "He's been in office for two months," I said. "He's at least trying different things to spur the economy. Doesn't he deserve a chanc