Thoughts of a Common Man

New Year's Eve sort of feels like the one holiday where you simply take stock in your life and either dismiss the passing year as a 'that sucked' or say something really stupid like, 'I am going to miss 2010. Everything went right for me this year.' I don't even want to look back. Sick of beating myself to death with thoughts of what could have been better. And I don't want to look forward, either. Tired of the wanting, wanting, wanting element of it all and then looking back and saying, 'that sucked.' So I'm not doing any of it this year. I'm simply going to try and enjoy life. The hell with understanding it. Hmmmm where'd I hear that before? So there won't be any: I'm going to try and drink less, eat less, and lose 15 pounds. If I do, I do. If I don't, I don't. I won't be saying: I'm going to watch less television and read more books. First off, I have a good balance there. Secondly I may not have a choice as Tim...

As I grew up there were very distinct reasons why I called either my mother or my father's name. If it were love and security I sought, both were eager to answer the bell, but Mom offered the most comforting arms. If it was strength and discipline I needed - when John was beating the holy hell out of me, for instance - I usually bellowed Dad's name. This all came to mind yesterday as I read the story of Elton John and his wife, David Furnish, becoming proud parents for the first time. Elton and David are the parents of a baby boy. Or is it David Furnish and his wife, Elton John? Read those sentences again. Does it sound right to you? Now, I have been forever accused of being a liberal and while the story doesn't make me angry or shudder in fear that society is being ruined by two guys who apparently love one another to introduce a child to their lives, and while I wish them luck and hope that the kid flourishes in his new environment. I may not be quite as progressive as I ...

The books are going out. If you haven't received yours yet, and you ordered one, don't worry, you will shortly! Some of the early returns are in however and it seems that the message was sent and received. Last night my buddy Brad sent me an email that had a wonderful sentiment attached saying that the 5 hours he spent reading it, at one sitting, may have changed his life. Then he explained that he would like for me to write one book that required that he have a bookmark. As an author there isn't a bigger compliment, right? My sisters, my uncle, my sister-in-law and a few others have also chimed in letting me know that Jeff's life was well-documented and that I had captured his spirit well. Every kind word goes straight to my heart and serves as a reminder that there is plenty of work to do so that Jeff's message reaches as many eyes as possible. There are times, when I am watching Judge Judy when I wonder to myself if someone, somewhere, is reading words that I wro...

So, Matt had a plan. He put in his time at MattDonald's so that he could pay his car insurance through the summer. Once he had enough money saved....and I must admit he didn't spend even one thin dime...he quit. He was extremely proud of the fact that he will pay for that insurance without a problem. "I hated that hellhole," he said by way of explanation when I asked him why he quit. So, it was all figured out. It prompted me to tell my wife that I had enough money for awhile, I too wanted to quit. "You don't have any money," she responded. "And I don't have enough." So, I battled through. Throwing a jab here and there at Matt, but letting it slide. Good kid. Good grades. Helps out around here if he is threatened enough. Well, lo and behold...he needed a muffler and the whole shot or so I'm told. (I don't know much about that crap). $500 bill that he was ill-prepared to assist in the payment of. You know how the bill will get paid? ...

We have a dog that we saved from the scrap heap a couple of years ago. She goes by the name of Paris, or Pair-Pair, or Pair-Potater, or Paris Bueller. She is a ball of energy, of course, but what blows my mind about her is that she should be settled, at least a little, by now. Except she isn't. She still sleeps in the crate downstairs and from the moment when I open the lock on her cage, until the moment she closes her eyes at night (which I still can't imagine) she is a whirlwind of excitement. She's excited to eat. Excited to chase Melky, excited to see me. Excited to go outside. Excited to come in. Actually, her excitement is a tad aggravating at times. If I sit on the couch, she sits right at my arm, and tries her best to lick my face. Fun, huh? Reminds you that she is a loving creature, right? Except she doesn't stop. No matter how long I sit there. She looks, smiles, tries to lick. Looks again. If I push her away she gets a hurt look in her eyes. "Okay, Pair-...

The build up to Christmas is powerful, and the celebration is always somehow worth the aggravation of all that needs to be done, and that's because I have a family that goes at everything real hard. The last week has been one of those weeks where the tank was really emptied as the book arrived, we all gathered, and food and drink was plentiful. And now we have the in between week. The days when we trudge off to work, knowing that the coming of the new year will bring another party, and all of the hopes of getting through one damn year without catastrophe rearing its ugly head. I've always believed that having a book come out is a lot like giving birth. People hear you talking about it, but it isn't really concrete to them until they are holding it in their hands, and now the worrying about reactions begins. Did I do this right? Did I hold the attention? Is it funny? Too sad? Too little? Too much? The crash that comes along with it is well known to my family and friends, and...

Matthew will be getting a car. Actually, it's my Dad's car and the 'getting it' part of it involved me going to the DMV with my mother to transfer the plates. Okay, so, a trip to the DMV doesn't exactly get your motor running, right? But my wife says that I am going, and that I need to get it done. She asked me to agree, so I did. However, being the strong man that I am I begged her to do the legwork of getting the paperwork filled out, calling the place to find out when it closes...things of that sort. So, my wife says, yesterday morning: You're all set. In the car for the 20 minute trip to pick up Mom. No problem whatsoever as I really enjoy spending time with my mother. 20 minutes to the DMV. "Wow, there's no one in the parking lot," Mom says. "It's close to Christmas," I say. "That'll be good, we'll get right in and right out." "There isn't even one car in the lot," my mother said. "Did the pe...

We should be celebrating my Dad's 73rd birthday. He should be here to tell me, "Bah, I don't want you to come over. I'll see you on Christmas Eve." And when we all showed up anyway... "Bah, I don't want any presents. Why don't you keep your money?" And he should have been yelling, "Bah, the kids are ruining the house!" And asking: "Are you hungry? Wanna' beer with your old men? How's work?" And then finally this as we back out of the drive: I say, "Happy Birthday, Pops." And he says: "I love you, buddy." There are too many days like this one scattered through the year. Days when we wish each other well in the face of pain. Days when we give that little head shake and shrug. And children lose parents, and parents lose children, and brothers lose best friends, and husbands lose wives and wives lose husbands... and there would be way more than 308 million hanging around if people didn't head off to...

The census has been conducted and the overall population of the United States is set at 308 million, give or take the thousands of missing people who fill up our 48 Hours Mystery Shows. It seems to me that of that 308 million about half of them are on Milestrip Road trying to get to the Home Depot, Office Max and Applebees. About a quarter million of them are going straight in the right hand lane when I am trying to make a right on red. I remember being at a Springsteen concert a long time ago at the CNE up in Toronto and my buddy Fluff just kept yelling out, "Why are there so many (freaking) people in my way! Don't you people have homes?" he screamed. And there are quite a few people who always seem to be in the way and who seem to be less tolerant of everyone else and their plans to live. Just saying, people, people everywhere! And where does it stop? The article says that we are heading for 400 million by the time that 2040 rolls around. Let's see...quick math...ca...

Never before have I been so conflicted. The first set of the books is scheduled to arrive this week...possibly even tomorrow...and I am sick with the idea that such a book ever had to be written, but proud of the fact that Jeff's message will be spread to hundreds or thousands of people. My buddy, and Jeff's buddy, Pops said that he will not rest until it sells a million more copies than Sarah Palin's book. In a perfect world it would sell a hundred million more. A man of substance. My head is spinning. Order your copy through cliffordfc@roadrunner.com...leave your address and I will sign and send out and invoice. I want to spread that message. Best money you'll ever spend. Come on, tomorrow!

Johnny's birthday celebration was held at a bowling alley again this year. It was sort of comical to me because out of the twenty or so people in attendance at least 15 had a Yankee shirt, hat, jacket, or underwear on. My Mom has a wonderful brand new jacket with a pin for each of the World Championships on it. Johnny wore a shirt that he just received with Mattingly's #23 and the name Fazzolari across the back - it looked great on him - Carol! At the party afterwards we all received Yankee mailbox covers, Yankee sunglasses, Yankee knit caps...and on and on. But its not about the baseball team, right, stupid? Its about our family and how close we are. We wear that NY insignia like it is our birthright. We share so much in talking baseball, chasing that World Series dream each year. Rocco and Johnny and Farrah in Yankee gear makes me tear up. The bowling? You ask? Not good. Tough sport. I stink. How the hell can you knock down 9 pins with the first ball and miss the single pin l...

We all remember the old video of David Bowie and Bing Crosby singing Little Drummer Boy , don't we? I used to love to watch MTV around this time of year because they played it a lot, and while it was an odd pairing, those two sang the hell out of that song. I hear Will Ferell is singing it this year, making a spoof of the video, but I haven't seen it yet. I heard he was respectful of the singing. Anyway, for some reason, nice and early this morning the song popped into my head with Bowie and Bing's voices and all. They harmonized over the Peace on Earth...can it be? part. Beautiful mesh of voices. Sort of makes your heart wince. I was about 18 years old when that video came out. For one reason or another, most likely ignorance, Peace on Earth through the singing of a song seemed sort of possible. With all of the information beating us to death, that line seems sort of silly, huh? Peace on Earth? Can it be? From a 46-year old's point of view it would seem that it is not ...

This is a blog about an overwhelming feeling that has sort of taken control of my tired mind today. The story goes way, way, way back and includes so many people that I have trouble keeping count. When Jeff died, lets be honest here, there was very little looking forward. I was trapped (still am on the bad days) looking back, hurting so much that doing anything other than taking one step after another to stay upright, was difficult. The book idea was in the back of my mind, of course, after all, I am a writer...but I couldn't see any possible way that I could perform the act of actually doing what had come so naturally to me. How could I come to grips with what was so deep in my obliterated heart? I will tell you exactly how it happened! At the end of 2009, my publisher, my friend, and a truly great American, Cindy Sterling asked me to send her what I'd been writing during the year. "I have nothing," I said. "You have to have something," she said. "You ...

Just catching up on the news. Miley Cyrus was caught smoking on a bong while Lindsay Lohan has been 100 days alcohol-free. There has to be a joke there somewhere. My Dad used to lead with the line that he gave up smoking and drinking and they were the worst two days of his life. Those are long, lonely days, indeed. Who cares what these little dorks drink or don't drink. I see that the CEO of Morgan Stanley says that he will personally escort out any person in the company who details leaks of the company bonus. Could that be because the bonuses are too low and he doesn't want to be embarrassed? Not likely, huh? Its because he doesn't want the poor, pitiful American to understand how much they are stealing for their personal yachts and mansions. Of course, the tax cuts for the rich have been re-upped for two years. Thank God. Now they can create jobs for the minions...or make bigger bonuses of which we will never know. I see Mike Vick wants a dog. Not a lot of pooches lining ...

My 3-year old nephew Dylan and his little baby sister, Layla were over last night as my niece went to visit my nephew, who is now 7 weeks into his hospital vacation. Thankfully, he is on the mend, but there is still a ways to go. I want to fill him in a little on what he missed last night. All right, to be honest, they arrived just after dinner, and I headed to the YMCA for a little work and a dip in the hot tub. I actually did a few miles on the bike and a mile on the track, listening to Bruce on the I-pod, so I was in a pretty decent frame of mind when I returned. As soon as I walked in the door, Kathy made a plea. "Watch them for a few minutes, I need a break." It was a plea that hearkened back to the days when our kids were young and it sort of made my skin crawl as Dylan was on the floor between three singing Christmas decorations - a Santa that was belting out Jingle Bells, a tree that was doing the old Bing Crosby song, and a couple of snowmen that were butchering anot...

We have a calendar on our fridge where we write in our appointments on a monthly basis with a black marker, and a wet-erase board. Kathy is in charge of putting the month in order because her handwriting is so much better than the rest of us. I distinctly recall the nuns beating the holy hell out of me because my penmanship sucked. And now everyone uses the computer. When was the last time you made a perfect cursive 'S'? The nuns taught it for the simple reason that they could bash us over the head with something when we went outside the lines on the paper. Anyway, Sam has recently been changing the days on the calendar to coincide with how many days there are left until all that shopping money officially goes out the window. The only problem being that each night as Sam reduces the day count by one, he does it by wetting a rag, erasing the number, and then putting in the new number. The wet rag causes holy hell with the rest of the board, leaving smudges and words that are hal...

The idiot left 35 million on the table. The moron didn't want to pitch for the Yankees. The halfwit chose Philly over New York. The loser is now banned from my fantasy baseball teams. Take that! Lets analyze. The 27-time World Champion Yankees have cut payroll so far this year. The rest of baseball is spending money like its play money. Wha! We want a salary cap. Good riddance to Lee. He won 12 games last year. One more than AJ Burnett. He played the free agent game as though he were the King of all pitchers. 7 years would have been too costly. The Yankees build from within! Laugh all you want. Yanks from 96 to 2000 won with talent they brought up. Jeter, Posada, Rivera, Pettite, Bernie...they were all homegrown. The '09 team was farm system too. Jeter, Posada, Rivera, Pettie, Cano, Hughes, Joba...all lifers. Cashman took the news of wimpy Lee's signing by saying, "Ah well, we better cancel the 2011 season." Won't happen. The Yanks don't quit. Yankee fans ...

The temperature was under ten degrees today. I walked across a wide open field to meet up with some guys who were erecting steel as the wind whipped across the terrain. My forehead, which is quite expansive, was aching with pain before I made it to the site foreman. "What's up?" I asked. He was looking around on the ground. "Don't move," he said. "I froze one of my nuts off." We laughed, of course, but to be honest with you, as I spoke with him, I was actually searching the ground as if I might find that nut rolling around somewhere. There was a guy standing beside him who exclaimed that he loved the cold temperatures. "The colder the better!" he yelled. Could that be true? Are there really people out there, who if given the choice would take 9 degrees with a wind chill that takes it below zero, to people who would rather have it 80 degrees with a light breeze blowing in to cool you off? I doubt it. I think the guy who was yelling about h...

Did you see the interview with the new speaker of the house on 6o Minutes last night? I only caught a couple of minutes of it, but man, he was crying like a baby. Every time the interviewer asked him a question, he cried. The interviewer told him that his wife was proud of him, and he blubbered. He cried so hard, so many times, that I took to laughing at him. Lord knows that there are certainly legitimate reasons to cry, and some people cry all the time. It snows, they cry. It rains, big tears...it's sunny, why not blubber? But there is nothing more awkward than seeing someone cry when you don't think they should be crying. 'Your wife is very proud of you,' wasn't reason enough for me. He cried. I laughed. Still, human emotions on display and me acting like a dope doesn't shine much of a light on me, does it? I joined Kathy in the living room last week as she was watching the end of a television show about someone who was suffering a high-end drama. Kathy was cr...

I started hearing about the coming storm in the middle of the week. I know there are lunatics out there who actually bask in the warm feeling of a coming storm, but I'm not one of them. I've seen way too many freaking storms in the last two years and you can jam them in your ass. Last night my beautiful wife and I attended the Thomas Johnson Christmas party. Great food, good friends, a lot of making fun of one another, and a couple of drinks to boot. The party always symbolizes the start of the Christmas season for me because it is usually the only work-related party that I attend and was once invited by Paul Johnson over the phone. "Are you coming to the party?" Paul asked. "Definitely," I said. "Is the reason why you're invited coming too?" Paul asked. And halfway through the party there was the reason I was invited chatting up Paul's wife as Paul and I stood side-by-side. "The wives are talking," I said. "I just saw your w...

...On a last chance power drive. Spent a long time thinking about John Lennon this week. It's been thirty years since he was gunned down after signing an autograph for a loser-son-of-a-bitch-that-robbed-the-world-of-fifty-years-of-great-music. I remember writing a term paper about him when I was in college. The theme of my paper was the strengths of Lennon as a great writer. I got an A. He was terrific. And I thought of Bruce and how much he's meant to me. And tonight I sort of got caught in a line of traffic and thought of the same thing I always think of...the highway's jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive.... And I passed by the guy to the left and the guy to the right and I saw the lost look on the faces of the tired drivers and the broken heroes line buzzed through my head like a bumblebee. And John Lennon's Imagine and Lennon's Watching the Wheels , my two favorite Lennon efforts, and I know them all, went ricocheting around my brain. And wha...

I love this time of year for the Baseball Winter Meetings as it is the time when the 27-time World Champion Yankees usually stock up for another run at the ring. The problem being that they really haven't done a single thing yet! Because Boston is trying to buy a World Series! Of course, that is a ridiculous notion...there is so much money being split up that every team has a chance if they are willing to spend, spend, spend. Do you know that each club receives a $100 million dollar share every year? The team that saves that money and cries about not being able to compete is the real loser in the derby.... Anyhow...this is a post about being able to take care of the family. Cliff Lee is the free agent that the Yankees are trying to sign. They offered him a 7-year deal worth about $150 million. He hasn't said yes, yet, because Texas is also trying to get him with a similar deal. This morning I read that he is having a gut-wrenching time of it because he is worried about his fami...

Every kid has felt that undeniable longing for Christmas to just hurry up and get here. The night before Christmas, as a kid was absolutely ridiculous as sleep seemed like the dumbest of all ideas. Yet eventually, sleep arrived as did the outlay of presents...Santa was brilliant, right? I was a little slow on the upkeep when it came to Santa. Probably about the same age as Sam is now - ten - when the news was finally broken to me. I remember it like it was yesterday morning. My brother John had started the ball rolling - on Christmas morning - that would've been about 1974. John: Mom and Dad buy the presents. Santa is freaking bullshit. Me: That's a lie! You're going to be in trouble with Santa just for saying that! John: There isn't a Santa, dipshit. Think about it. How the hell would he hit every house in the world? Me: Where do Mom and Dad get the money for all the presents? Dad enters the room John: Can we tell him there's no Santa. Dad: Sounds like you did. Me:...

Seventeen days until Christmas...the day we celebrate in honor of the Lord and Savior and I get the following e-mail in my junk mail: "Let's grow your small d#$% with a true penis enlargement!!!!" Really! First off, how can you possibly know? Secondly, am I supposed to respond to such an email? How would I do that? The email was sent from a woman named Tilly. Did I ever meet a Tilly? Jennifer Tilly comes to mind, but I don't believe I ever met the actress. I am quite certain she has no idea of whether or not I am in need of her product. Still, I am curious? How does it work? Is it a stretch and pull kind of thing? Do you grow it like you grow any other part of your body? Carb up, perhaps? Isn't it a tad personal? I decided to draft a letter: Dear Tilly, Thank you for the concern you recently showed in regard to the length and girth of my sad little body part. I, of course, defer to any number of excuses in this regard. 1). My mother did not take care of herself wh...

Just got done reading two accounts of two women...one is Elizabeth Edwards as news has broke that she is gravelly ill and that she will no longer receive treatment for cancer. Let's recap her years in the limelight. She lost a son in a car accident. Her husband had two runs at president, but turned out to be a liar, a cheater, and a louse who had another child with another woman all the way claiming he was dedicated. She has publicly fought cancer, and argued for health care reform, while losing the battle that will claim her in weeks or at best two months. The other woman is Jamie McCourt the estranged wife of Dodgers owner Frank McCourt. These two gems have been in court for over a year as the squabble over the millions of dollars that they can't seem to be able to split up. Now it seems as if they are going to co-own the team. They were married for 30 years. The public squabble over their divorce has allowed all of the marital secrets to come out, and the fight for money wil...

On Saturday evening the Fazzolari family met for a Catholic Mass in honor of Jeff in the small town where we all grew up. 'The Fuzzys' as we are known in that town got together, to celebrate Jeff's name, and although Carrie couldn't be bothered to make the 8-hour trip, she was beside us in the pew. (Just kidding Carrie - that right there is funny, I don't care who you are). We have unfortunately gathered in that church a lot recently, but this time, on a Saturday evening, there was a little more bounce in our step. We were kidding each other, smiling a lot more, and were genuinely pleased to be in one another's company. That is how it has always worked. We can make one another laugh. We can also dominate a room, so in a church filled with people, I am sure that everyone knew the Fuzzys were there. During the sermon, I scanned the faces of the townspeople who I've come to know so well. Mr and Mrs. Renaldo over there, Paris Bottoni sitting behind us, Foxy Geor...

I PRAISE YOU 24/7!!!!!! AND THIS HOW YOU DO ME!!!!! YOU EXPECT ME TO LEARN FROM THIS??? HOW???!!! ILL NEVER FORGET THIS!! EVER!!! THX THO...” The above is the tweet message that Steve Johnson of the Bills sent to God after God made Johnson drop that pass last week. Not to get into the theological aspects of it again, I would like to break down the sentence structure and grammar. You see, I just came off a week where an editor busted my balls for serial commas and en dashes as opposed to em dashes. Yet getting a text or reading Face Book for ten minutes will give you a real headache as you try and decipher the primitive language. I need to take a course. For instance...in the early days whenever someone sent me a message that said LOL or LMFAO...I had to go to the kids to ask what it meant. Then there are these messages. "I wntd 2 ask u 4 a favor." I texted back: "Is this Prince?" The above by Johnson wasn't so bad. He used full words, but someone needs to take h...

TO ORDER A COPY OF OH BROTHER! THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JEFF FAZZOLARI SEND AN E-MAIL TO CLIFFORDFC@ROADRUNNER.COM WITH YOUR ADDRESS. THE MOST POWERFUL OF ALL-FAZZOLARI BOOKS IT IS HYSTERICALLY FUNNY, TRAGICALLY SAD, AND SPEAKS OF A LIFE THAT WAS WORTHY OF A THOROUGH EXAMINATION. Here is one story where it is impossible to separate the author from the subject matter. Clifford J. Fazzolari, as an author of nine books previous, has written this memoir about his very best friend and brother, Jeffrey Frank Fazzolari, and has said time and time again, “He is the greatest character I will ever write about.” The family has come to refer to Jeffrey as a “walking celebration” despite the fact that he suffered from constant back pain and walked with a noticeable limp. When Cliff asked me to think about writing the Foreword for this book, I did not hesitate and responded “Absolutely.” The original title of the story was Life, Laughter and Love after all, and as the youngest sister in the Fazzolar...

I'm in a real bind here. First off, I absolutely hate going to the doctors. I simply figure that things will correct themselves through time. Since I treat my body like a temple, I expect that eventually it will run adequately. I've been having pain in my right knee since July. I originally hurt the Achilles and had to wear a boot. The Achilles healed, but the pain on the side of my knee wouldn't go away. I lost weight. I rode the exercise bike. I even ran a little and went to the hot tub. The pain hasn't changed at all. Went to the doctor...he prescribed a pill and told me to see the surgeon. Today, I went to the surgeon. My brother John had work done on both of his knees. He predicted what would happen today. "They'll collect your co-pay, give you an X-ray that won't show anything, put you on anti-inflammatory that won't work...and string you along for a few months until they can get the insurance to go for an MRI. Then they'll operate and fix it ...

The man convicted of the murders in the home invasion in Connecticut has been sentenced to death. He is quoted as saying his death will be a relief. I know where he's coming from. Look at that friggen' snow. Actually, it wasn't so bad. We all took turns working on shoveling and as you can see, Sam enjoyed it. Matt and Jake and Kathy and yes, even I worked at clearing the cars off and cleaning the end of the driveway. "Bad news," Sam said after he and Matt finished a turn. "The plow just came by." Yeah, the bastards! They push it all back in front of the cleaned out space. So, I used my sore knee as a way to shorten my turn, but I cleared a bit...and lo and behold...when I got in the house (no hot chocolate ready, by the way) it was my left shoulder that ached horribly. "At least it took your mind off your knee," Kathy mentioned. A relief, I tell you. A relief! PS - isn't the shot of the moon just beautiful in that photo?

Sam was absolutely giddy last night. He kept looking out the window, talking about a five-day weekend. Not sure how he arrived at five days off of school, but he most certainly wouldn't be going on Thursday, and that was enough to make him act a little strange. "Is he drunk?" Kathy asked at one point. And they all headed outside to shovel. I'm not kidding! The 3 boys we need to check for their pulses from time-to-time thought it might be fun to shovel. I looked out the window and Sam tossed a snowball at the glass. He then threw a half dozen snowballs at Jake and Matt as they shoveled. Kathy was thrilled to have to make them cups of hot chocolate for all the hard work they were doing. Isn't that a kick in the head? They get hot chocolate...I bust my ass in it every day and not a mention... (just kidding, I'm doing fine). But I wasn't too excited about it. The winter weather advisory says there will be about 14 inches over the next twelve hours or so. This ...

So this is a pretty strange story, huh? Speaks to the "intelligence" again. How does classified information become available because some guy with a blank CD knows a couple of passwords and decides that he wants to fill up the disc and make it available to everyone else? Aren't there things that the American public doesn't need to know? Would you want to know all of the background information on all of the bad guys who are trying to kill us because we are free and happy and able to move throughout the country with reckless abandon? I don't know, but this stuff scares the hell out of me. The freedom that Americans enjoy shouldn't be jeopardized by a 21-year-old kid. Perhaps we are becoming too dependant upon technology and are too tied into one another. At work today we were discussing the old days of construction when deals were made on a handshake and a call home to say that we had to work late didn't result in a tweet, a Facebook message, and four straig...

Now I know that the laws are written for all of us and that many lives have been ruined by drug abuse, but can't we leave Willie Nelson alone? The man is 77 years old. He wears a handkerchief and sings songs while strumming a guitar and making no excuses for his love of smoking pot. He's also a very funny dude who is always great in interviews, took a beating for not paying his taxes, and built a golf course on his own property. I will never forget the interview in which he stated that he played golf under his own terms. The 60 Minutes reporter asked him what he meant as they walked the course. "It's my course so I set the par on each hole," he said. "For instance, I set par on this hole at 8 even though regulation courses might put it at a par 4, and let me tell you, yesterday I birdied that sucker." Willie isn't hurting anyone. He was busted coming back from a concert with 6 ounces of pot on the tour bus. I doubt he was selling it. It was for his o...

...I am serious, and stop calling me Shirley. Leslie Nielson is dead at 84. Think of him without smiling. The Airplane movies, the Naked Gun series.Frank Drebin with Nordberg.Whatever happened to the guy who played Nordberg? Oh yeah, he murdered a couple of people. Anyway, I always enjoyed Leslie Nielson's comedy. Funny man. Silly movies. The definition of entertainment. And speaking of entertainment, The Bills have been fun to watch over the last six weeks, haven't they? Three overtime losses, a couple of wins...a far cry from the start of the year. They are actually entertainers. Yet yesterday one of the receivers dropped a ball that I might have been able to catch. The throw hit Steve Johnson in the hands, went off his chest, and landed in the end zone. They would have won the game. The city would've gone crazy this morning as they would have earned a win over the mighty Steelers. There was no good reason why the ball shouldn't have been caught. Seriously, throw it u...

I usually set up a long list of things that I want to get accomplished on any given day. Yesterday my list consisted of one thing: sit quietly. I purposely cleared my head and decided to take a full day off. No book work. No Jeter contract. No laundry. No cooking. Nothing. It was a day off that I didn't announce to anyone. I just took it. And nothing happened. I watched reruns of Raymond, King of Queens and Two and a Half Men. I watched three or four crime dramas and then capped it off with a violent movie with Edward Norton in it. We ate KFC and the boys played games all day. "Let the dogs out," was my big command of the day. Why is it so important? I believe that the biggest problem I have is that I can't sit still and just relax. So I forced myself to do it. I just sat back and took stock of everything. What did I learn? Well, for one...Edward Norton is one of my favorite actors. His movies are always good and I usually admire the characters he plays. Two...people ...

So Mr. President took 12 stitches when elbowed during a pickup basketball game. The shocking part of the story for me is that it was the fifth of five full-court games. Isn't he older than me? If I tried to participate in such a tourney I'd be leaving the court on a stretcher. Good for him, I suppose, but the economy blows, North Korea is blasting missiles, Afghanistan is still hot, Iraq is still going, and Sarah Palin is out stumping. How do you wrap your mind around a good, clean box-out when all that crap is going on? The snow on the ground didn't exactly comfort me this morning either. It's been nine months since it last snowed here in Buffalo, but I certainly dread the cold because I don't know when it will be nice again. There is the potential that the crap weather could stretch until May. I know a lot of people who get excited by the first snowfall too. Really? There are the winter wonderland songs that make it seem so charming, but in your life have you slid...

I certainly go through lack of sleeping jags that drive me crazy. Up at 4:45 on Thanksgiving Day when I could have gone to 9 or 10 but would have settled for six. Oh well, I was determined to enjoy the day anyway and I had a few wonderful moments, like when I was able to snap the above photo, on my mother's birthday, after sharing a tremendous meal that my brother Jim, the man with the heart the size of the Grinch's prepared with little help at all. I had stopped out early, way early, to give him a hand, but instead, we toasted Dad and Jeff, and shared a few laughs over 2 drinks. (Just 2, I swear) as we waited for the rest of the guests to arrive. And the grim reality of it all is that there are less guests showing up now. The heartbreaking realization of that sat over the table and pressed down on our heads, but we ate, watched football, and playfully made fun of one another as my wife and mother spoke of the Christmas shopping, and the days ahead. Spoke of the days ahead. So ...

Last Sunday I sat next to my mother in church. For anyone who knows my mother, you are quite aware that she is an unbelievably strong woman who certainly has been tied to the whipping post lately, and still she is trying to wear a brave face. Yet Sunday the priest made a comment about how excited he was that we were going to finally have the chance to Thank God for all that he's done for us. "That's a good one," my mother whispered to me. I laughed, turned to her, and she shrugged at me with tears in her eyes. Thankful? Are you freaking kidding me? But, despite it all, there are things out there that we should be thankful for. My thoughts immediately go to my beautiful wife and my wonderful children, of course. Oh, yeah and my brothers and sisters and friends and family members. Knowing the dark side, I understand that it is important to enjoy the ride. The people in my life have helped me do that over and over again. I'm thankful that I am still relatively health...

One of those days when I'm going to let Mellencamp write the blog. Honestly, last night was a colossal exercise in noise, ringing telephones, things that needed to be done, and I kept thinking.... ....sometimes life is too ridiculous to live and knew that it came from JCM. Between a Laugh and a Tear When paradise is no longer fit for you to live in and all your adolescent dreams are gone Through the days you feel a little used up And you don't know where your energy's gone wrong It's just your soul feeling a little downhearted Sometimes life is just too ridiculous to live You count your friends all on one finger I know its crazy, its just the way that we live. Between a laugh and a tear smile in the mirror as you walk by between a laugh and a tear and that's as good as it can get for us and there ain't no reason to stop trying. When this cardboard town can no longer amuse you you see through everything and nothing seems worthwhile and hypocrite used to be such a...

All right so the whore that was in the room with Charlie Sheen is offended that he didn't treat her with respect, talking down at her, making her feel disrespected, and now she is filing a lawsuit because he has forever damaged her ability to make a living. Don't get me wrong...Charlie Sheen has really acted like a drug-infested ass for a long time. Someone should let him know that he has kids, a following, and a responsibility to act like a human being, no matter how big a star he is or how great his show seems to be. And where is CBS through all of this? Sheen has been arrested a bunch of times, has been in and out of rehab, and they don't say a word about it. Could it be because he is the star of their highest-rated show? I wonder. But back to Charlie's date... Capri Anderson is the name the young lady goes by, and for all intents and purposes, she is a woman who seems to have taken good care of herself. Yet she is flabbergasted by Sheen's behavior. It seems that...

The new book is about 30 days out, and even though I knew there was a possibility that I would have to go through the text again, I was sort of hoping I might miss it. Of course, that was not possible. There will most likely be one more read-through as well. What is the purpose of it all? Not to change content at this stage of the game, but to do that maddening grammar dance. Let me tell you, I am no grammar expert. Like everyone else, I absolutely hated those exercises in school, but I know how to do it, a little bit...nothing like my editors though. A book edit is a strange thing because as the author you are naturally defensive. Your initial reaction is to try and discredit the editor straight off. You see the red marks and read the comments, and you feel like the dumbest human being on the planet. Then the edit begins, and instead of reading and riding the wave of that creative flow, you're looking at your consistent mistakes over and over again. Why can't I understand the ...

The details are a little sketchy but the story is true. On my tenth birthday the gift I received from my parents was Wilt Chamberlin's autobiography - his first one, not the one where he claimed to have slept with 10,000 women. "I can't believe you wanted this," my mother said. "I really, really, really wanted it," I answered. "I can't wait to get started." Yet I still was too young to read such a book. I loved Wilt. I loved reading, and so my mother presented me the book in 1974. It was the heaviest book I'd ever held in my hands, and I read it very quickly the first time through, and the second, and the third. I still have it in my room filled with books, and I've resisted the most recent urges to pick it up again. But a couple of things came of it. 1). I can remember asking my mother what 'screwed' meant. As in Wilt and a teammate went back to the girls room and 'screwed' them. "Skip that part," Mom said. 2)...

The nightly news started with a story about the fact that interest in marriage is dwindling. People are waiting a lot longer to get married these days, marriage isn't lasting as it did in recent years, and some are saying that marriage will one day be obsolete. I'm not sure, but I can't really consider this to be good news. Marriage, done well, is pretty damn cool, right? Doesn't the Bible tell us things about it? Isn't the commitment that goes with love supposed to be a factor. Let's examine. 54% of the American adult population is married...so it isn't exactly obsolete, but that is down from 72% in 1960. The average age of a marriage start, now, is over 28. My parents had four kids by the time they were that age! Yet times change, right? I'm all against the down trend in marriage and that's because I believe that the family is an essential part to the moral togetherness of our country. I was talking the other day to a kid who was trying to tell me ...