Thoughts of a Common Man

I was driving along through New York State when I saw a barn with a painted message. In 5-foot high letters the message read - Beware! Jesus is Coming! I had just experienced one of them days - a day when there was so much coming at me, and my mood wasn't good. In my head were the ideas that I need to start writing again - courtesy of my wife. My publisher was talking about promoting the books and making appearances. Work was about 15 hours long. "Jesus is Coming! Where the hell is He?" I shouted. As I drove the second photo showed itself - I took a snapshot of the dark, ominous clouds that were weighing down on me. I was waiting on the heavy rains. A funny thing happened though - they didn't come. Over the next half hour, I worked everything through my mind - I was a little ashamed of yelling for Jesus to show himself. The 1st photo shows the sky as the darkness cleared as I drove towards Buffalo. It was hard to miss the message from above. Just before I pulled into ...

Yeah, yeah, I know the story. The amazing courage to beat cancer. I watched an inspirational film of his life and read his life story. I actually used one of his films for an inspirational story in one of the classes that I was teaching. Then I read more about how he left his wife and family after they helped him win his inspirational battle with cancer. How he dropped Sheryl Crow when she needed him during her treatment for breast cancer. How he supposedly hooked up with one of the Olsen twins. How he allegedly used steroids, or skipped the test, and bashed the whole bike-riding federation. I was thinking about it today because I just saw a commercial about how he didn't care that people think he's arrogant, or a cheater, or a fraud. It ended with the Nike logo and the Just Do It slogan. In other words, it doesn't matter who he left shattered along the way - after all - it's Lance's world and we're just living in it. And the greatest athlete ever? He rides a bi...

Started Saturday morning off with a trip to church and most of the time I am able to catch a couple of sentences that catapult me through the next week. I also enjoy the community of church and everyone singing and praying in unison. I better say that or there are about thirty-five nuns from the past who will be lined up to beat me with their ruler. Yesterday the line that caught my attention was "Do this in memory of me." Of course they are the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, but yesterday they rang a true chord. My brother Jim had been asking me all week long to help him make Italian sausage. It's a task that we've shared as a family since I was just a kid, but one that we hadn't yet attempted without the family chef. Of course we had the recipe and the know-how, but it wouldn't be easy by any means. Believing that Jim didn't have anyone to help, I made the drive, and Bruce on E-Street radio got me there. Sad, but determined to do it in memory. To my ...

...on Michael. If the guy who lived next door to you weighed 95 pounds, wore a hockey goalie mask over a respirator, continually grabbed his crotch, slept in a chamber, held hands with a chimp named Bubbles, dyed his skin, re-shaped his nose until it almost fell off, and hung around with little children, allowing them to sleep in his bed - Would you call the cops? Man oh man, what a long fall.

My brother John, out of the blue one day, said: "Only in America can a poor black kid grow up to be a successful, rich, white woman." He was speaking of Michael Jackson, of course, and it used to make me laugh every time I thought of Jacko. Yet his sudden death kind of makes his life a pure tragedy, doesn't it? What a mess were made of things when all was said and done. The trappings of fame are ridiculous when you get that famous - it killed Elvis, killed Anna Nicole, killed Marilyn Monroe, and now killed Michael Jackson, I suppose. I wasn't ever really a fan on Michael Jackson, but how could you escape it? I even tried to moonwalk one time at a frat party - not a pretty picture. Yet I did watch the Thriller video when it debuted, right along with a million others. The reason I didn't love his music - although I appreciated his talents - was that I love rock and roll - and girls were into Michael - and he danced - and I dance like Grape Ape. Yet I certainly was d...

Why the hell do I know who these people are? Why is every newspaper in the country following the break-up of their marriage? I heard that Jon said that he needed to get on with his life. Don't they have 8 children? Get on with your life? That is your life, nitwit. We finally found that Governor, huh? Turns out he wasn't out trying to find himself by hiking along some mountain trail, or writing down all of his deep thoughts - he was having an affair with some woman from Argentina that he met on the Internet. He has four kids who he is currently begging for their forgiveness. A spokesman for the governor explained that every once in a while a man needs a break. I never saw the show that features Jon and Kate, but word on the street is that he was feeling stifled with his responsibilities. A long time ago I wrote a blog about what every man should repeat to himself when he feels those urges to wander away from the life he'd set up. BAM - yes - Be A Man. There are 12 more kids ...

I'm thinking that the streak for waking up before six in the morning is at about two years now. I'm not patting myself on the back, but I never miss work. I hardly ever have a day that would be considered lazy. I feel guilty when I don't write. I feel guilty when I don't spend some good time with the family. I know a whole bunch of working slobs like me. Working hard - day in and day out - for enough money to have a decent family. A-Rod is making $204,700 a game - he's 0 for 3 tonight. Insert me into the clean-up position and I'd have the same sort of day and I'd look fetching in the pinstripe uniform. Which isn't to say it's easy, but the announcer frosted my ass when he mentioned that part of the problem is that A-Rod is fatigued. Oh really? Was it the long line at the buffet after sleeping until 4 in the afternoon that did him in? Was it the seven times he swung and missed? Was it those late nights with Kate Hudson? Was it that long plane ride fro...

I stopped in a bar yesterday afternoon and did one Heiny Light and a shot of Jameson's in honor of my brother's birthday. I sipped it slow and allowed my mind to wander. Of course it wandered to all of the great places - memories of words said and laughs shared - and then a stray thought struck me and led to the title of this blog. Jeff and I were usually of one opinion on any given subject, and for the most part, we discussed living right and battled against the things that led us astray - like Heiny Lights and shots of Jameson's - but it was all right - we did those things in the name of fun. I finished the drinks and headed to the boys baseball games. It was a beautiful summer night with a clear, blue sky that contradicted everything swimming around in my head. The boys were playing on three separate diamonds in one location - so Kathy and I, along with her Mom and Dad, walked from game to game, checking the scores and if one of the kids was due up. Matt's team was g...

Today would have been the celebration of Jeff's 39th birthday. Actually, today will be the celebration of his big day. It's quite early in the morning and memories are flooding back to me, but that seems to be every day anyway. It's just more pronounced today. Thirty-nine years isn't a lot of time. Not even close to what would have been acceptable. Yet the gift of today is to remember that time is short, and to appreciate what is there in front of you. Sounds cliche, but a necessary messsage for sure. That was part of Jeff's message to us all in the time he was here, busting our chops. Every day was a bit of a party. There was plenty of time to make us smile. Every meal was a feast... we laughed a ton with him...remember that dear friends. So, I'll raise a glass... Listen to Americanland by Bruce... Maybe cry a little... And smile a lot... Happy Birthday, brother!

Happy Father's Day to everyone out there. I read a quote from Obama who said that it is what he aspires to be - a good father. I suppose it is an easy thing to say and I'm sure he feels it - I do too. Yet it isn't the easiest job in the world by any means. There are a lot of men out there who shirk the responsibility. My kids are pretty easy to get along with - they do what needs to be done to stay out of the doghouse on any given day. They are a joy to be around and certainly have plenty of capabilities, but as a father who does want to be responsible there are plenty of things to worry about. My one goal as a father is simply to be there for the boys. My Dad was mostly always there - he had to travel a bit to provide - but he was ever-present. I still recall the cards and notes he sent to me when I was away at college - there was always money tucked in there - money that he scraped together without telling my mother. I'm sure he did it for every kid. And Dad was alway...

Sing that song to yourself, right now, and then curse me for it never leaving your mind the rest of the day. Man, I was looking forward to golf this week. A little trick I've learned in life is to give yourself a carrot to chase - I had a golf ball in the front of my car all week long - when things got rough - when I got too down-hearted, I picked the ball up, and visualized myself hitting it off the tee on the first hole. "You'll never golf this weekend," my wife said - "It's going to rain hard on Saturday." "It'll be all right," I said. Lo and behold - I was on the tee at 7:36 - the rain was nothing more than a drizzle. The perfect shot I had visualized, however, turned into a hard yank to the left, but over the water, and still in play. 6 holes later, the rain came down hard and cold. I birdied the 7th hole and did my birdie dance. "Stop," my brother-in-law Chuck said. "I just caught a glimpse of your belly button." W...

Strange. Go from talking to someone every day of your life. 30 + or so years. To never talking to him again. What happens? Loneliness. Plenty of dreams. I hear him. Same inflection. Same tone. Same belly laughs. Tell yourself that life goes on. Tell yourself that you'll be all right. Drink a Grey Goose. Just enough olive juice to cut the taste. Call a friend. Thanks J.C. Not the same. Still appreciate it. Put the Yanks on. Think of my brother again. What's better than a brother? Catch an idea! Oh shit! He's the one I think of calling. Damn. This sucks! Hear his message. Live. Live. Live. Thanks. Bro.

Don't you move a little bit lighter on a normal Friday? I normally do, but today I was feeling real sluggish. Perhaps it's the weather, more likely it's the events of the past few months, but I couldn't help but feel that I just didn't have it. We've all been there, right? It's a feeling of simple --- Blah. I actually hate feeling this way too. There has to be something that charges us up, gets us fired up, and moving forward. The kids last full day of school is today. You want to see fired up, get a load of Sam these days. Last night during the Yankee game, he waited for a commercial break and he grabbed hold of my feet and danced along to the music in the commercials. I tried to tell him to knock it off, but I couldn't stop laughing. Youthful exuberance. We played his little game through three commercial breaks before I was finally able to get him to stop. It'll be a long, hot summer for Kathy and the boys. In any regard, I'm struggling to find...

Billy Joel is 60-years old and news came down this morning that he's splitting with his 27-year old wife. He couldn't make it work with Christie, and now he's losing his young wife. Boy, I feel bad for him - he'll be in that mansion all alone with his millions of dollars. The Piano Man has been married three times and they've all had the same result. Does he go for a younger woman now? Well, as Chris Rock said - "If something happens to my wife - I'm going for a younger woman. If I was dog shopping I'd buy a puppy, not a ten-year old dog." Yet - look at that age difference - 60 and 27. Think about what you'd want to do on a Saturday night. She probably wanted to go out drinking, dancing and spending time with friends. Billy probably wanted to just sit on the couch until 9 PM, sipping a drink, and then head up to bed. I'm 44 and I can't imagine wanting to do anything other than take a long nap and go to bed early enough to watch 48 Hours...

At 7:15 AM on a Miami street 59-year old crane operator Mario Reyes met 30-year old Donte Stallworth, a professional football player for the Cleveland Browns. They met on the street where Reyes, after finishing a work shift had the gall to attempt to run across the street to catch a bus. Stallworth, just finishing a shift of drinking at the bar, was considerate enough to flash his lights at Reyes, before hitting him with his car. Reyes never got Stallworth's autograph. Their meeting literally killed him. An awful story. That morning, Stallworth was drunk and Reyes was dead because of it. Yesterday the punishment was handed down. Despite laws that say that vehicular manslaughter due to drunk-driving is a crime punishable by a lengthy prison sentence, Stallworth received 30 days in jail. He received credit for one day served - down to 29. He also receives five days off his sentence due to a Florida law that reduces each month of a sentence by five days - (explain that logic to me). W...

We finally put a roof on the place over the weekend. Actually, we hired a crew to do it. My only contribution was sitting at the picnic table and helping them with the beer. Yet the entire ordeal was fairly painless (other than the cost, of course) because the crew completed the complete tear down and replacement in about eight hours total for two days. They also cleaned every nail out of the yard. There comes a certain satisfaction when something has been completed - especially when it is something that you'd stressed about for some time. For about a year, my wife had been bantering about the roof replacement while I had stubbornly explained that there wasn't any water leaking on our heads. (I knew better, just needed to bicker). Yet when the work was completed and as I was walking around the yard, the feeling wasn't one of relief; it was sadness. Sadness comes easy these days, but I wasn't sad over the monetary cost. I was simply sad because it is the last roof we...

I've always liked David Letterman - I always thought he was the best of the late night hosts even though I don't see him a lot because he's on in the middle of the night now. He always struck me as a little bit off too, which works well for a comedian. Yet he most likely stepped over the line with his Palin joke because he definitely got the wrong daughter. A 14-year old shouldn't be subjected to such humor - it certainly was a good joke if he'd been talking about the other daughter though. I guess he apologized, but it hasn't been enough to make the story go away. I side with Sarah Palin as a Mom on this one - you have to protect your kids - but it should be over by now. News flash: Sometimes comedians say things they really don't mean just to get a laugh. He screwed up, apologized, and is ready to move on. I get a funny feeling that if Palin continues to fight with him, he'll crucify her with his wit - after all, all he really has to do is show footage...

My sister did it again! She arranged for her Queen Team to raise a ton of money for breast cancer research. She hosted a great party (along with the stupendous Charles Leone) that thanked everyone for helping out. Corinne also was somehow able to get my wife, my mother-in-law and my sister-in-laws to walk, run or jog along with her for the the three-mile stretch. "Hey Cliffy," she said when I walked in the door. "You're walking with us next year." Of course, I hadn't walked. "No pain, no pain," I said. "It's my five-year mark," she said. The food was spread out before us. My cousin Jacqui, also a survivor and all-around wonderful mother and wife joined in the celebration. My own mother, and my wife sat chatting with some sort of blue drink in their hand. "How many people were there?" I asked at one point. "Thousands," Corinne replied. "Isn't it amazing that one person - Susan G. Komen - could inspire so ma...

Being stuck in the middle of a life-changing event it is often times difficult to lose track of people who are in your heart and on the periphery of your every day life. Like it or not we all become wrapped up in our own journey and the heartache and heartbreak of others is set aside for thoughts of another day, perhaps, when the mind gets clearer. My cousin Steve sent me a photo of a sunrise today. Steve was always one of my favorite cousins - being that he lives in Baltimore with his family, it is often difficult to touch base - when we see one another - we laugh as though we were ten years old again. Today Steve reached out and as a family we appreciate that - even if he still looks like Sammy Davis Jr. And on the other side of events I need to reach out to a friend of mine at Sterlinghouse - God Bless you in your personal endeavor - you'll be fine - you know I have prayers in my heart for you. And that I suppose is the basis of this life - from one sunrise to the next - we have...

Since about the age of 8 or so, I have read book after book - all kinds - sports biographies, autobiographies, novels, short stories, true crime stories - anything and everything I can get my hands on really. I usually finish a book in just a couple of weeks - much shorter if it catches my attention. There have been a lot of days in my life when I dreamed about finishing whatever it was I was doing during the day so I could lie back and read. I haven't been reading much lately. I have been working on the Joe Torre book for the better part of a month. I have a couple of books stacked up - books I'd been really looking forward to reading - just collecting dust for the time being. Life got in the way and my mind didn't seem able to follow a story, or hell, even a simple lyric. I woke this morning with a lyric in my head - Life strips away the dreams that we had planned. I tortured myself trying to remember where I'd heard the line - I could hear the singer singing it, but ...

Man oh man, listening to news of the death of David Carradine makes my head spin a little. At first they thought it might have been suicide - he was found hanging in a hotel room. I'm sure that his family wishes that it was that way after hearing the details. Auto-erotic asphyxiation is something of an epidemic it seems. Sounds like an awful lot of work to me - evidently it is a way to heighten the sensation of masturbation. All righty then. They say that the act is completed by tying yourself off in strategic locations to cut off the flow of oxygen and bring the excitement level to a real high. It took me until the age of 12 to tie my shoelaces. Tying knots around my neck and other key locations doesn't sound real exciting. To top it off, Carradine supposedly was dressed in a wig and corset for the evening spent alone bringing himself to.... Did he have a glass of wine first? Buy himself dinner? Perhaps give himself a bouquet of flowers? Sounds like he had a rather romantic ev...

I hate the Yankee-Red Sox games - to tell you the truth, I always have. I simply hate everyone who's ever put on a Sox uniform and the game is more about hatred than satisfaction. I do recall where I was when Bucky Dent hit the HR to beat the Sox in 1977 and I remember receiving three calls at 1:30 AM when Aaron Boone homered in '03. Lately though, the Yanks are the one's getting beat up on and I can tell you that it's a lot less fun when the Yanks are losing. So, I'm searching for Old Bucky Dent to hit one over the green monster and aggravate all of those irritating bastards who live in that part of the country. So far in '09 the Yanks are yet to beat the Suxs as we call them around my house, and the telephone calls are certainly relentless - I hear from all of my friends who want to rub it in. This morning, Sam opened his eyes and groaned. "The Yanks lost seven to zip," he said. "My friends are going to be all over me." "What do you te...

I'm going to make an announcement - I'm straight. I'm a straight, heterosexual male. There. Will that get me on the cover of Rolling Stone? The whole gay issue means little to me - get married, don't get married, stay in the closet, come out of the closet, lock the closet door - I could care less. So why then if we are all created equal is it such big news to announce that you're gay? Adam Lambert is gay, you say? Duh. Who didn't guess that? Weren't there photos of him on the Internet making out with other men. Shouldn't that have tipped you off? Be gay - I don't care. I can't see it, but as Seinfeld said - Not that there is anything wrong with it. Who knows if there is something wrong with it - I certainly don't qualify as a lifestyle judge, but I don't need to know either that you are completely happy with your life choice, or that you feel discriminated against, or how tough it was to tell your parents. In this day and age it appears t...

Is it any wonder that I'm in the shape I'm in? I had a nice, healthy weekend - I ate like a human, kept the drinks to a minimum and did a ton of hard work - around my yard, planting my father's garden, and swinging the golf club. I could feel the burn, as they say. And today? I feel like hell - my legs each seem to weigh about 200 pounds, my back is barking a little - and I just feel run down. So, what the hell are you supposed to do? You don't work the muscles and you feel sluggish and bloated. You work them and you can hardly walk the next few days, let alone climbing ladders. And golf is a whole 'nother story - the first three weeks was a classic show of not being able to drive the ball off the tee. Yesterday I didn't miss-hit even one drive - and everything else turned to crap. I chipped and putted as though I were missing the particular parts of my brain that controls those actions. It's the classic tale of the weekend warrior at the age of 44 - I can...

It's always strange bringing up the past when I'm speaking with my children. As a child, you just don't believe or understand that your Mom and Dad were once just mere children. "What were you like in high school?" Sam asked, sort of out of nowhere. "Women loved me and men feared me," I said. My wife rolled her eyes, Sam laughed, and Jake deadpanned, "You sure that wasn't the other way around?" Eventually I told them a little about being a kid, and since it was fresh in my mind, I told them how it was to plant the garden each year. My father would be directing the traffic and my brothers and I would be sweating, swearing under our breath, and hating every plant that went into the ground. The only redeeming factor being that we loved the veggies that came from such work. The reason it was fresh in my mind was because on Saturday morning, I helped my Dad plant his garden. It was just my Dad and I. He had about seventy plants, and this time, h...

My sister saw Bruce in Washington and he sang Racing in the Street . Whenever I think of that song one lyric sticks in my head - Some guys just give up living and start dying little by little, piece by piece. I've lived my entire life trying not to be like that. I find that so sad. Never, ever thought I'd consider that could ever happen. Yet, life is a cruel bitch, isn't it? And it can happen. Piece by piece. Little by little. It's so easy to say that the pieces can be picked up and be re-assembled into something less, but something still significant. I'm certainly trying to do that, but will everyone? Probably not. And that's a 'probably not' that really hurts. It's easy to try and focus on the love in life - thankfully, I'm surrounded by love -some people certainly aren't. Some people who have love sitting right in front of them, decide to take another route. In any regard, there is a perpetual ache. Today, I decided to punish a body that i...

Walking by the television this morning I saw a one sentence crawl across the bottom of the screen that said, "Man arrested; drowns wife on honeymoon." Well, that's really giving it the old college try, huh? Can you imagine how happy everyone was at that wedding as the loaded into the limo to start their lives together? How about getting that phone call if you're back home working through the hangover from the reception? Unbelievable. "He could have gotten an annulment," my wife said as I told her the headline. "He annulled it himself," I answered. The second crawl was about David Carradine allegedly committing suicide. Problem, grasshopper? Another strange story. Then finally, I read about former Buffalo Braves star Randy Smith dying of a heart attack while working out on a treadmill. I can safely say that won't happen to me. I've eliminated treadmills and anorexia as contributing factors to my final moments. I suppose the lesson learned is...

Well, I suppose that all I had to do was whine a little. I heard today that Counting on a Miracle was honored at a New York City Book Festival - unfortunately the Awards Ceremony is tomorrow night and I most likely won't be able to swing it. Yet, here is the announcement from Sterlinghouse Publisher. Cliff Fazzolari Making Headlines Once Again! Cliff Fazzolari, author of several novels including his newest release Blind Spot, has been awarded an Honorable Mention at the 2009 Beach Book Festival for his nonfiction title Counting on a Miracle . Counting on a Miracle is the true story of Cliff’s son, Jake, and the medical emergency that threatened to tear Jake’s family apart. To purchase Counting on a Miracle and other books by Cliff Fazzolari, go to www.sterlinghousepublisher.com Congratulations, Cliff! Congratulations to Sterlinghouse too!

There's a new book coming out by author Kathryn Radeff. It's called Angel Encounters and in it she includes the story of one Jake Fazzolari. She compiled information from Counting On A Miracle , asked me for permission, and is telling the story in the context of her own book. It's real strange sometimes when I think about the fact that things I've written have been included in other books. The letter I wrote about 9/11 that was published in a few newspapers on September 12, 2001 has also been used in a book about terrorism. Of course, six months ago, I would have flipped for such promotion for the books. I would have charged ahead, trying hard to get everyone to read not only what I'd written, but what was also written about me. Now - I just don't care. Of course, I wish the author good fortune and I certainly believe in every word I've ever had published, but it doesn't seem to matter much to me now. Wishing and striving for fame, fortune, recognition i...

Right off the AP Wire.... A man has been arrested for the 153rd time, this time after he was accused of punching someone in the face over the weekend. Paul Baldwin, 49, told a judge Monday he plans to plead guilty to the assault, along with trespassing and alcohol charges. He said he's had a long battle with alcohol and was trying to correct the problem during his most recent one-year jail term, which ended last week. The Foster's Daily Democrat newspaper said Baldwin's record dates to 1984 and includes 152 other arrests, eight trespass orders, 75 citations, four Social Security aliases and 17 name aliases. Prosecutor Rena DiLando said she didn't have time to read Baldwin's full criminal record because it's so long. I don't even know what to say. I get nervous when the cops even appear on the road next to me and I haven't committed a crime in a long time. I can't imagine how this man has even lived this long, but it certainly sounds as if he's tr...

I've been watching the sun rise a lot lately. This one is from Florida, of course, but it sits on my computer as my screensaver for the simple reason that I need to remember that another day is dawning and that it would pay to keep moving. I've been busy lately too - a couple of Yankee games, a couple of Bruce concerts, two horribly-played golf outings, family parties, pain, pain and more pain. I often think of a line from U2 where Bono writes - "Some sunny days you wish it were raining." Despite the sun these days, it feels like it's been constantly raining, but lo and behold, in the middle of not being able to sleep again due to the mind-blowing powers of recall and grief, here comes the sun. Here comes the sun. I sat in the car looking at my boys for a long time the other day. I saw my mannerisms, my wife's mannerisms, their own little special personality quirks, and the idea that there are days and days ahead of them where they will learn, laugh, live, lov...

A mouse looked through the crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife open a package. "What food might this contain?" The mouse wondered. He was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed this warning : "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, "Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it." The mouse turned to the pig and told him, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" The pig sympathized, but said, "I am so very sorry, Mr. Mouse, but there is nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers." The mouse turned to the cow and said, "There is a mousetrap in the house! There is a mousetrap in the house!" ...