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Showing posts from August, 2009

I'm Strugggggling

I've been laughing for a day and a half now as yesterday's golf outing was an effort in futility for one member of our foursome. Golf is a funny game because there seems to be a certain momentum to it and every one (even Tiger) has their turn in the barrel so to speak. When one of the other three guys is suffering it's almost too painful to watch and there isn't a lot to say to the poor bastard. Everyone takes their turn at the tee and there's so much to the mental part of the game. When another guy in the foursome shanks one you have three options - 1). Give him the 'I'm so sorry' look 2). Try to find a positive in it - such as 'That'll still play,' or 3). Make fun of him. Last year I golfed a lot with my brother - he always chose option number three. The worst part of it was missing the ball and having him stand there and say - "My God, you're awful." Anyway - yesterday a regular on our trips couldn't stay out of his own w

Daley's Bar & Tavern

Headed off to a wedding on Friday night and we arrived at the reception hall before anyone else. Not wanting to be the first people on site, I turned the car around in the lot and asked Kathy if she'd rather have a drink in a bar first. She didn't know of any bars in the area, but we just sort of drifted through the neighborhood looking for a beer sign. "There's one," Kathy said as I was passing a place. "Turn around." I just kept driving. For one reason or another, I needed to find something else. I saw the sign for Daley's Bar in South Buffalo and parked right at the front door. Kathy made it as far as the door, but turned around. "They're closed," she said. "Come on," an old man yelled from inside the bar. Despite it being 7:00 on a Friday night, the only living things in the bar were the old man, and a small dog that was curled up beside him - on the bar. Kathy turned and asked if this was indeed the place where we were go

Everything Changed

Talking with a good friend of mine who nearly died last year as cancer threatened him. He went through a few major operations, blood clots, and his last rites. To be honest, I didn't think he'd survive. It's been nearly a year and he hasn't missed more than a few hours of work since his remarkable recovery but he certainly has mellowed. He will forever have lingering medical problems, but he's still here. "I never once heard you complain," I told him yesterday. "What good will it do me to complain to you," he answered. "You can't do a single thing for me." I know that he's in pain from time to time. He eats differently, no longer smokes, drinks, or takes anything for granted. "Why are you working so much?" I asked him. "I have to keep going," he said. "Everything changed and no one will ever know what goes through my mind on a daily basis, but my family still expects me to produce." And I thought of

Little League Dreams

Caught the Little League World Series game between California and Georgia last night. There was so much running through my mind as I watched. First off - it was good baseball. I started watching figuring I should pick a team to root for and I decided that since California was up 5-1 that I'd root for Georgia to come back - but when they did, I felt so bad for one of the kids on the California team because it looked like he was going to cry, so I started rooting for California to come back. By the end of the game I didn't want either team to lose. For the record California did win with a run in the last of the sixth. There was a kid on the Georgia team who was 6' tall and weighed 210 lbs - he's 13! I watched him pitch and couldn't imagine standing in the box to try and hit him. He was also pretty awkward as if he still didn't know how to handle being so massive. I watched the parents cheering for their children as if their very existence hung in the balance, but

Low Expectations

Bought a Mega-Millions ticket today and as I drove my mind wandered about what I'd do with $325 million. Three seconds into the daydream, I cursed myself for wasting the five-spot. Saw the photo of Rick Pitino in the paper - the latest big shot to be brought down by a sex scandal - I'd read his books, admired his coaching, and thought he was one of the good one's - it was all crap. Talked to my buddies and boys about the upcoming Bills year - they're all predicting 10 wins and a playoff run. I'm thinking maybe seven wins. I tried to tell my son to root for 7 and be happy with anything over that. I'm just thinking it's about time I lower my expectations. Lower expectations leads to less heartache. Life is essentially a struggle - why fight it. Expect nothing and be happy when it comes. It's certainly been the year of the letdown. A couple of weeks ago I was golfing with a few buddies - we play with a mulligan available per round. We stepped up at a hole t

I Hate Jared

Hopefully Ted Kennedy will be remembered for more than a car accident, but I doubt it. For those who hate him because a). He's a Kennedy b). He's a liberal or c). because of the accident - I say just one thing: He stood up for other people. No matter what his sins - he was a champion for those less fortunate then him - and that was a hell of a lot of people. My main beef today though is that goofy bastard from the Subway commercials - I was minding my own business last night and watching the Yanks (man, you gotta' get the bunt down Swisher) when Jared came on promoting the most recent Subway masterpiece. I flipped the station. An inning later, he was back. And the inning after that and the inning after that and the inning after that. And I'm not sure why I hate him. Perhaps because he lost all that weight and is continually in my face about it. Maybe because he's a goofy, dorky sort of guy who is famous for what? Making TV commercials. Of course, I don't hate hi

Shadow, My Shadow, My Lovely Shadow

Growing up we always had dogs in the house. Thinking back on it, I remember periods of my childhood based on which dogs were roaming the backyard on Shirley Road. I was just ten years old when one of our boxer's, Ricky II, hit the floor in my room in the middle of the night and did not survive the heart attack. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still feel the pain of that night. Yet there have been so many happy memories and one that stands out is the way my mother would sing to our dogs, often repeating their names over and over as she made up songs. Unfortunately, my children have started to publicize that I do the same thing with my two dogs. Melky Cabrera how's your underwear-ah? is a personal favorite. Shadow basically has one song - Shadow, my shadow, my lovely Shadow I sing it to her all the time. She seems to enjoy my wonderful voice. Perhaps the lesson learned when Ricky hit the floor all those years ago is that time is short and it's best to love those that yo

Nighty-Night

I'm an admittedly lousy sleeper. Conditions must be just about perfect for me to drift off to sleep, including knowing how the Yanks did, knowing that everyone is home and in bed, and knowing that I can't hear noises from other areas of the house. Each night I have to read a bit, and have a bottle of water at the ready. There can't be any source of light coming into the room and, my dogs have to be comfortable in the same room as me. Then, if there isn't too much on my plate from the day's activities, I can go to sleep. I'm well aware that any noise will wake me at anytime during the rest period. My wife, on the other hand, could lay down in the middle of the road with a sandbag as a pillow and drift off to sleep. Michael Jackson, it appears, had an even more difficult time sleeping than me and now his death is being ruled a homicide. His doctor admits to having administered propofol, an anesthetic used by hospitals, as well as sedatives midazolam and lorazepam

Our Beautiful Reward

Kathy and the boys are pretty much connected at the hip each and every day. Through most of the past week, I was right there with them. I don't know how she does it nearly every minute of the day. I'm fired up about working today! You see they all provide a certain energy from time to time, but on days like Sunday, we are all pretty much at the mercy of Sam. Yesterday he woke as though he were shot from a cannon. Each and every sentence out of his mouth was designed to get a reaction and he had a wonderful audience in Matt and Jake who laughed at everything he said. About halfway through the day, I became his target as he lobbied for the pay-per-view wrestling match. "I get it, right?" he asked. "Yankees-Red Sox are on," I teased, "and since we pay the cable bill we get first crack at the big television." "That's crap," he said. "You have a TV upstairs. Do you know that this is my time to relax a little? I deserve a few hours of

A Day of Rest

As the story goes for six days God created the heavens and the Earth and on the 7th day He rested. No doubt with a barrel of sauce and a Yankee game. My eyes were on Sunday all week as I considered just getting rest. I'm not alone in the summer time - there's so much to do, so many parties, weddings, days of fun - not much sun this year - but it didn't slow the carousel much. There have certainly been enough gatherings to keep us moving. So, I went to bed last night - once more missing the end of 48 Hours Mystery - I'm sure the husband poisoned his wife. "What's the motive?" my wife asked. "He was married to her," I replied. The plan was to sleep as late as I could - woke at 6:30, struggled to stay in bed until 7:00. The day of rest wasn't off to a booming start. A cup of coffee, thoughts of dinner, hung with the dogs, church, pasta, no Yanks until 8 tonight - perhaps a nap? Not sure what God did on his day off. There had to be a little tweak

Shorts and a T-Shirt

I've figured out what causes aggravation - it's long pants, of course. For the past several days I've been in shorts - nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Blue shorts with the Yankee shirt. Grey shorts with the Bruce shirt. Socks were optional as were shoes - and my mood was great. In 7 full days I wore long pants for a total of 6 hours and that was only when I had to help with the Women & Children's Hospital Presentation in Philly. If I could have gotten away with the shorts I would have worn them there too. And today - well, today, I had to go back to pants - and it sucked. People kept calling me, texting me, e-mailing me, talking to me....blah, blah, blah, work bullshit, 'Hurry up and get here'. So, I am making a movement - no more long pants. Think of it - when was the last time you felt stressed wearing short pants? Swimming - uh, no. Hanging out in the sun - no. Golfing - no (there are moments-but I've only thrown one club all year). Having a casual

I Walk the Valley of Love and Tears and Mystery

So, I'm trying to catch up on things...received a copy of a Bruce concert from a dear friend - recorded live from Italy. Put it in and got ready to do a little work. Read my sister's blog - God I wish I could write like that. It yanked at my heart strings and made my head fill with grief. Felt better having read it. Bruce sang The River in the background - Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse. I thought of my buddies and sons laughing at me for always listening to Bruce - "Listen to the words!" Jake mimicked. "Listen to the words!" Indeed. That single line from The River encompasses all of the trepidation I've been feeling about my writing. It wasn't just my dream - I write for a lot of people. My brother was my biggest fan and a huge part of the dream seems gone. I was writing for him as much as for myself. Yet... My weekend with my friends made me understand that I can still be writing for him - he'll see it. Ba

The Long Walk(s)

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As a family we had a great visit with some old friends. There were also a couple of real long walks along the way. It did my heart good to watch my boys hang out with the children of my old college friends. They had the chance to meet, play, talk, and laugh - all things I did with my friends - they didn't have any beer together - but me and my friends did. Yet the visit didn't come without pain. There was a 217-step walk to the top of a lighthouse - for the record I only stopped once. "I beat you up there," Sam said. "You better, you're brand new," I answered. My kids are pictured with Mike and Denise's kids at the very top. I didn't have to use the defibrillator. Next, we visited Citizen's Bank Park - Kathy made sure we got the tickets and found the park - and having enough time to catch dinner, we asked a woman for some pointers - she recommended a rib joint (where I usually get the diet ribs) and the woman was so accommodating that she eve

Ninety Billion Reasons

The main reason why my children are in Philadelphia turning it on its ear is so that I can be a participant in the Family-Centered Care Conference that is going on in the city. I was fortunate enough to be in the right place at the right time and tomorrow a few of us representing the Women and Children's Hospital of Buffalo will stage a presentation. Walking around the conference and hearing all of the stories and talking to people about the books I've written on health care at the hospital has only raised my awareness of what a bungled-up mess it's all become. In the background I'm listening to the fight as Obama and crew try to make some sort of sense of it and get hammered at every turn. I don't know much about anything. I'm not sure why the proposal is being marked as a socialist-type of legislation. I am smart enough to realize, though, that if you stand for something there will be someone sniping at you from the shadows. We certainly didn't have this o

Feeling A Little Like Clark Griswold

On the road with the family and I can certainly sympathize with Chevy Chase as he chased Rusty and the rest of the family on their way to Wally World. We can certainly detail a couple of real missteps as we work our way through New Jersey and Philadelphia. I just haven't seen Christie Brinkley in the Corvette yet. Still these are the days that will remain in the memory banks of the children for years to come and as a parent there are plenty of moments when I try to remain calm and patient as they giggle their way through another day. Another interesting aspect of the trip is that I am trying hard to see a couple of my college buddies on this trip and knowing that they've lived their lives in the right way, and having the chance to visit with their children certainly does my heart good. These are guys I knew nearly thirty years ago, and we've stayed in contact, and it's been real easy to fall back into some of the same old conversations. I often wonder about why some peo

Which Star is Which?

The beach certainly lends itself to relaxation. We've been hanging around on the Jersey Shore looking for signs of Springsteen and spending time with good friends. The water is warm, the food fantastic, the beer ice cold - there have been some laughs recounting glory days, but mostly we're sharing, living and gazing skyward. The stars filled the sky last night - stars that are up there each night that we take for granted. I look to the sky now, talking to my bro - wondering what is beyond - and its funny but in the calm of my surroundings, feeling as if I'm a small part of an unbelievable large universe, the sadness, which threatens me during normal days, seems nearly manageable. Yet I can't tell you which star is which and that's a shame. I'm going to get me a telescope and figure it all out.

Mountain Out of a Mole Hill

Anyone see Hillary Clinton go off on that student who mistakenly said President Clinton when talking to our Secretary of State? Did Hillary's outburst seem a tad out of whack for the tone of the question? Might she be the first woman to ever over-react? Was there just too much drama involved? Now, I'm treading lightly here. First off, Hillary and Bill are certainly polarizing figures. There was a report that Bill missed his wife's outburst because he was in Las Vegas at the time, being photographed with a travelling party that included other women. Of course, Bill should be completely trusted around other woman now, shouldn't he? "I didn't see it," Bill said when asked about his wife's outburst. Oh, he's seen it. Those of us that are married have all seen it from time to time. Now I must preface this by saying that my wife is a lot less prone to emotional breakdowns than I am, but there may have been a time or two when something minor was overblown

Oscar Madison Lives On

I was packing clothes for an upcoming trip, folding everything as I put it into the suitcase, trying hard not to wrinkle anything as I did so. As I worked to make everything just right in my suitcase it struck me that no matter how much care I put into the task I still wasn't going to pull it off. You remember the Odd Couple, right? When Oscar Madison was going to write about a sporting event he put on a suit and tie. Most people look good in a suit and tie. Oscar? No. Me? No. Why can't I pull it off? "You can put him in a ten-thousand dollar suit," my sister Corinne once said, "and he'd still look like a bum." "And sooner or later there'd be a mustard stain on it," my sister Carrie added. I don't know what it is - I try to look good. I really do. I remember once I was getting ready for a book signing - I all but ran down the stairs thinking I'd really pulled it off this time. My wife was at the bottom of the stairs. She took one lo

Working For It

Say your grandfather is Kirk Douglas,which of course, makes your father Michael Douglas, which of course makes Catherine Zeta-Jones your step-mommy. Wouldn't that make you proud? Wouldn't it inspire you to do something with your life? Cameron Douglas is the son of Michael and a life-long drug addict, or so they say. Yesterday there was a story about his girlfriend getting busted trying to sneak him a little heroin in his electric toothbrush while he was under house arrest with guards searching everything brought to him. Not sure what it would be like to be the child of someone quite as famous as that, but there was certainly enough money around, wasn't there? The kid didn't grow up broke which usually leads to a life of crime. I'm sure that he had every opportunity made available to him, and the life he chose is going to leave him in prison for quite some time. Now I don't know much about the Douglas family - they seem to be decent people and good actors for sur

Lost in the Flood

I know a guy from work who schedules meetings or ends visits by saying: "If the creek doesn't rise I'll see you later." Well, as made abundantly clear to me this year, the creek does rise - both literally and figuratively. This year the waters seem to be over the bridge and sloshing on the deck of the ship that was once thought to be unsinkable. On Sunday night the storms raged again - big loud thunderclaps that had my dogs shaking and looking for cover. "Woke last night to the sounds of thunder." I didn't have to "how far off, I sat and wonder," because they seemed like they were striking the pieces of the torn down swing set that have not yet been discarded. "What're we going to do about this?" Melky and Shadow's eyes seemed to ask as they tried to jump into the bed. "Nothing we can do, guys," I said. "We need to ride the storm out and assess the damage later." I had a fleeting thought about the basement

Feeling a Little Ann Landers-ish

Got this e-mail today - it's a message that bares repeating - not sure who wrote it -I get it in the e-mail every once in awhile and always read it through to the end. Not sure I always live it that way though. "Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine. I got to thinking one day about all those people on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible. How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed? Does the word 'refrigeration' mean nothing to you? How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched 'Jeopardy' on television? I cannot count the times I called my sister

Random Garbage

Thoughts collected as I wonder why it wants to rain every freaking Sunday... --- The Yanks need only to go .500 to win 94 games and most likely the AL East and they aren't going to slump to just .500. Still waiting for one announcer to stop crying about the money they spend and talk about the money they generate for the sport to keep the degenerate teams afloat. Wha! It's not fair! Then make your own team an attraction. (Seems conservative to me). --- Ralph Wilson is in the Hall of Fame and he thanked Buffalo. How heartwarming is that? Much better than hearing him cry about how broke he is - at the age of 91, coming off thirty straight years of sell-outs in a town where disposable income is tough to come by. See above. Try to win once more Ralph - if you love Buffalo - give some back by making an honest effort at winning it all. Hire us a coach, please. --- Enough sports - got a survey about whether or not Obama is screwing things up with his policy shifts. The results of the s

Time in a Bottle

Back in college a few of us once took a test, sponsored by the school, that determined if you were an alcoholic or not. The test seemed real slanted to us back then and we all answered it as honestly as we could. Question 1 - How many days a week do you drink? They were looking for two or less - we came in at 5 plus or minus one day. Question 2 - Can you have a good time without drinking? They were looking for yes - we answered an emphatic no. Question 3 - Have you ever blacked out from drinking? I remember one of my buddies saying is that 'Ever - or just this weekend?' Question 4 - Can you stop drinking once you've started? Same guy said - 'Yeah when I black out.' Question 5 - Has drinking ever caused you to miss class or an assignment? One guy we went to school with told his professors that his sister died so that he could have a solid two weeks off - he didn't have a sister. He might have had a slight problem. I ask all of these questions against the backdrop

Every Day Sucks

Talking with a co-worker yesterday - it was his turn in the barrel - everything he touched turned to crap. After a bunch of texts he remarked, 'This day sucked.' I texted back - only half-kidding - 'Every day sucks and if you begin with that premise you won't be disappointed.' He texted back - 'Man, I'm not built to think that way.' And Thank God for that. Yet quoting my buddies from Pink Floyd - Day after day life seems grey and night after night we pretend it's all right. There are people who live with deep depression settling as a cloud over their heads each and every day. I honestly feel sorry for them because I'm not quite built that way either - life does suck if you wallow in the pitiful mess of it all, but most days there is something to look forward to, right? Yet I was flipping through the channels the other night and there was a depression medicine advertisement on - it spoke of the wonderful veil that will be lifted and how each day w

Time Waits For No One

I've always been a big Stones fan - love the Keith Richards guitar licks - love Mick's voice - even loved a lot of the lyrics. I often think of Time is on My Side , yes it is - but thought of the old song - Time Waits for No One as I watched the Yankee-Red Sox game last night. I had always liked John Smoltz - he was a pitcher for the Braves for twenty years and was on two of the teams that the Yanks spanked to win the World Series in the late 90's. I used to hate when he was against the Yanks, but I admired his talents and the way he carried himself. And then he went and signed with the Red Sox during the off-season and I thought it was a shame because I would have to grow to hate him. I actually loved him last night because he stunk and the Yanks blasted him, but for the first time in my life I actually felt bad for an opposing pitcher - Smoltz looked like a shell of himself. The windup and delivery were the same. The intense look was the same - but his mind was writing ch

Camp Clifford

There's an excitement in the air around my house as Camp Clifford races through it's second full month before school begins again. The camp is open from around six AM through 11 PM and breakfast, lunch and a couple of dinners are served. The game systems are fired up all day long. You can ride your bike if you feel that ambitious and there are swimming trips, movies, arcade trips, basketball camps, baseball games and special events planned, on a whim and without regard. And that's exactly how it should be. I remember how much fun summer could be. There were endless games played out with my brothers and sisters. There were moments when we couldn't get along and my mother would have to separate and conquer. I see Kathy employing many of the tricks. There were also tasks handed out by my father and I try my best to break up the carnival by asking my boys to help out a little, but they don't seem to work quite as hard as my brothers, sisters and I did. Still, the mood i

Evil Comes in All Shapes and Sizes

Just looking at the photo of Kim Jong Il - what a tiny man he is and yet an entire nation is under his baby-like thumb. He rules with an iron-fist and a defiance that should be reserved for a man the size of oh say, Shaq O'Neal. And how about Slick Willie standing next to him, taking all the credit for the release of the journalists when their release had been negotiated for months? Willie never misses an opportunity to score, does he? Yet it's the look of Kim Jong Il that got me thinking today - first I read about the woman who killed all those people by driving the wrong way on Taconic Parkway - she was absolutely annihilated - a .19 with a vodka bottle in the car and more pot in her bloodstream than Tommy Chong. How do you get to that point? (Allegedly). I was genuinely surprised when that information came to light. Still I didn't have even enough time from the shock of that to wear off before our latest mass killing - Pittsburgh again - the man walked into a fitness clu

Now I Really Hate Krazy Glue

As a fiction writer you're always looking for the next angle. Many times you hold back on the drama because in the backdrop of real life it doesn't seem like it could truly happen. Yet truth is stranger than fiction and it presented itself in a story I read on the Internet. A Wisconsin man was lured into a hotel room after answering an ad on Craig's List. Once inside he was asked to put a blindfold on and was tied to the bed - sounds like fun, so far, right? Yet being bound and blindfolded by a complete stranger can be less fun than it sounds especially when three other women break into the room to teach you a lesson about being unfaithful - one of the other three women was the poor bastard's wife. Of course, his behavior was deemed unacceptable by the crew of women and they decided to dole out their own punishment. They beat him a little bit, ripped off his underwear and Krazy Glued "a sensitive part" of his body to his stomach. The Krazy Glue angle sold me o

Wanna' Get a Drink or Something?

Ryan O'Neal was recently in the news because of the death of Farrah Fawcett. Through the years he's been something of a train wreck with all kinds of disgraceful items being brought to the attention of his fans. The article I read this morning said that at Farrah's funeral he made a pass at a good-looking blonde that he'd picked out of the crowd. He was dismayed when the blonde told him that she was Tatum - his daughter. How does he respond to that little piece of information? Uh,my bad, sorry? O'Neal went on to say that he should have never been a father claiming that all 4 of his kids were either in jail or should be there. He claims he's sorry for all he's done. Those of us who are parents are sure of just one thing (hopefully) and that's the wish that our children will have an easier go of it then we do. My biggest fear is that my children will adopt some of my own self-destructive traits and I'll do my best to steer them onto the right path. Isn

Who's Better Than You?

There was a guy I knew from New York City, Lenny, who lived life as if there were no tomorrow. Every single person he met, he'd make sure they remembered who he was. If he noticed a pretty girl on the street, he'd offer a standing ovation and thank her for just walking by. It was always uncomfortable for the girl, but I imagine they loved the attention. If you were to do something for him, or say something he thought was particularly inspiring he'd ask the question - "Who's Better Than You?" Sometimes he'd follow it up with the exclamation - "NOBODY!" It became a catch-phrase of those of us who knew him and I sometimes ask the question of the kids - if you get a Who's Better Than You? - it makes you feel good and I think that's what my buddy had been going for. Unfortunately for him, he ran out of days way too early - running out of tomorrows as a fairly young man. I looked to the sky and gave him a 'Who's Better Than You' las

Dishes Full of Sink

There's an old episode of Seinfeld where Jerry informs George that perhaps he needs a psychiatrist. George asks Jerry if he really thinks it's necessary and Jerry explains that a team of psychiatrists working around the clock probably couldn't cure what ails George. Typical Larry David -funny stuff. I'm right there with Mr. Costanza. Through all of my adult life I'd have to say that the one thing that ails me most is clutter. I'm not trying to dig too deep here, but I hate when things are out of place. I'm not a clean-freak, mind you, but I have a deep desire to put everything away. Pop cans waiting to be recycled? Absolute madness. The shoes tossed into the storage room, not in pairs? Drives me nuts. Waking up to the dishes full of sink? Threatens to make me jump from the highest bridge. And I did say that correctly - dishes full of sink - and that's because during one of my melt-downs, yelling at Matt or Jake or Sam for eating a three-course meal befo