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Showing posts from January, 2010

This Is What It's Come To

Working to get things back on the road... Waiting to get x-rays was wildly entertaining. I so very rarely go to the doctors that I couldn't answer even the most simple of questions. "Do you have your insurance card?" the woman asked me. I handed her a card. "That's for your prescriptions," she said. I tried again. "That's your Blockbuster card. They're out of business." One more chance. "That's it. Now this was a car accident, right? Who do you get your car insurance from?" "Uncle Jim," I said. The lady looked at me as if I were the dumbest man on the planet. "How the hell do I know?" I asked. "I just want x-rays." "Can you reach your wife? Perhaps she can make sense out of your life." This is what it has come to. I don't even open my own mail anymore. And now the car needs to be fixed. I'm telling you, I don't have a single clue as to what to do next. "Take it for an es

Been Around the Block- Post #800

When I was a mere lad I used to walk around the block with my grandfather, Clifford Schryver. We used to go around Hariett Street to what are now the projects, and down the side streets. Grandpa never said a lot but I do remember finding a dime once and I was estatic. "This is what I want to do," I said. "I'll walk the streets and find money." "It won't be enough," he said. "How do you know?" I asked. "Well, I've been around the block once or twice and I know it," he said. And here I sit, having been around the block a time or two, knowing now what I didn't know then. And feeling as incompetent as that kid was back then. And coming off a day when I could have perished and not making too much of it, but that sort of shit happens to people every day and it has a place in the psyche, doesn't it? It's impossible not to think about it. We are all just so fragile. We should have 'Do Not Bend' written on our bac

Crash Into Me

It was just a regular day. I was driving along the Skyway leaving the city with no distractions at all. I wasn't texting, I wasn't talking on the phone, I wasn't even watching porn on my laptop. Howard was on, of course, but I can drive and listen, right? As I exited the skyway the wind whipped up sending snow blowing across off the lake. I didn't think much of it, but I slowed the car down. The wind didn't slow at all. I could only see a few feet in front of me. I hit my hazard lights as I really slowed, and when the snow cleared, there were two badly smashed up cars, in my lane, just a few feet ahead. I was able to stop in time, but in a split-second my mind flashed me a warning. What if the next guy doesn't stop? I didn't have time to answer my own question - a truck in the left lane smashed into the stopped vehicle just in front of him. The sound of the impact literally made me jump off my seat, and that's when I was hit from behind. I was hit just p

Across the Border

How do I feel today? One year after tragedy...same as I felt yesterday, and the day before and the day before and the day before... Across the Border - Bruce Springsteen Tonight my bag is packed Tomorrow I'll walk these tracks That will lead me across the border. Tomorrow my love and I will sleep 'neath auburn skies Somewhere across the border We'll leave behind, my dear The pain and sadness we found here And we'll drink from the Bravo's muddy water Where the sky grows gray and wide We'll meet on the other side There across the border For you I'll build a house High upon a grassy hill Somewhere across the border Where pain and memory pain and memory have been stilled There across the border And sweet blossoms fill the air pastures of gold and green roll down into clear cool waters And in your arms 'neath open skies I'll kiss the sorrow from your eyes there across the border Tonight we'll sing the songs I'll dream of you my corazon (love) and

Why! Oh Why!

Back in 1992 I had a serious crush on someone. It wasn't a school kid crush, mind you, I was 28 years old! What I was feeling was real, true love. My love was based on compassion, pity, and a little bit of physical lust. I was seriously in love...with Nancy Kerrigan. Yes, that Nancy Kerrigan. The skater who's knee was hammered by Tonya Harding. I must have been in love because it made me watch friggin' figure skating! I was fired up for those Olympics. I had seen Nancy wail in pain - "Why! Oh Why!" - and it tore at my heart. I can still see her father carrying her off, her face a mask of pain and anguish. "Why! Oh Why!" A friend of mine knew about the crush - he spoiled the Olympics (which were on a tape delay) by telling me that Nancy won the Bronze and not the Gold. I was broken-hearted. I made a bet with that same friend (a case of beer) that I could get Nancy's autograph. I mailed photos to her town - with just her name on the front - Two weeks l

Whatchutalkingbout Willis?

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Yeah, yeah the J-E-T-S lost. We have bigger problems to discuss. Seems that Phillip Drummond for all his self-righteousness was a real bad single parent of those three kids and Mrs. Garrett was no help at all. The real life Willis wound up in jail numerous times. Dana Plato was so strung out on drugs (God help me, what was her name on the show?) and ended up killing herself...and now Arnold. Doesn't it look like he's about to break into the whatchutalkingbout Willis? in his police photo? Seems Arnold has a real problem with domestic abuse - he's an angry little man - evidently he's been arrested due to his temper a few times, and his parents robbed him of every dime he ever made. What a mess. Can you imagine being attacked by Gary Coleman? What would that be like? Its sort of like when the kids run at you and threaten to take you down, isn't it? How could you do anything but laugh? Of course, domestic abuse is a serious subject, but man that is one situation that is

The Saints Go Marching In

Kind of hard not to root, at least a little, for the New Orleans Saints. I'm listening to a recap of the Katrina devastation as the announcers discuss what a Super Bowl would mean to that city. Now we would really, really, really appreciate a playoff berth again, let alone a Super Bowl here in Buffalo, but man, that city deserves a little something. We all remember the Katrina stories, right? The flooded city streets, the slow response, the people shooting from the rooftops, and looting and not leaving and all of it. Yet the horror of it all was recapped in a book by a doctor who was trying to help during those difficult times. His book - which I will look up if anyone is interested - recapped the tragedy through the eyes of a man on the battle lines - really good read, but scary as hell. He spoke of swimming down the street and running into a parking meter because the water was so high. He talks of people in the police department just quitting their jobs because there was no chanc

She Was Picking On Me!

Last February a man who lives about seven miles from me was arrested for literally cutting his wife's head off. The crime shocked and horrified the entire county, and made everyone wonder how the hell someone could do that to another person. Now we know... His defense attorney says that she was picking on him. He explained that the poor man was so humiliated by the mental abuse he took from the verbal beatdowns his wife inflicted upon him that he had no choice but to lop off her head. Reeeeeeeallllly! (As Ace Ventura might say). Does that mean I can do it because my wife says "okie dokie" too often? It's not funny but you always hear about men claiming that their wives are verbally beating them down. Cowards use it for an excuse when they want to save a little money in the divorce suit. This wimp is claiming that it drove him so crazy that he had to react violently. First off, isn't the verbal beatdown expected? Isn't that what we sign up for at the altar? Isn

Half in the Bag

Typical Friday night with family things on my mind, but we stopped for a few beers and chicken wings to celebrate my mother-in-laws' birthday. My wonderful brother-in-law added a photo of Jeff to his wall at the bar. And it was on, bitch, pants on the floor, on. I texted my buddy Pops - "Shots of Jameson now? Or writing tomorrow?" "Tomorrow never knows," Pop texted back. A shot for Jeff. A shot for Pops. A shot for myself. "When are we leaving?" Kathy asked. "Not there yet," I replied. There are days when the whole things seems insufferable. Nothing in the world prepared me for your heart. Nothing in the world I love more than your heart - your golden heart, golden heart, golden heart.... And so much to think about... Can you hear me? ... Jamesons with a beer back...foosbeall and my partner sucks now...another Jameson's...are these stuffed peppers okay?... man this blows... Bruce on the way home...Knopfler as I write this...something need

Ahh, Diversity

For the first time yesterday I listened to the Pants on the Ground song - only one listen and I can't get it out of my head. I wasn't sure of the origin of the song, but my big sister helped me figure it out, and it made me smile because I've always wondered why people would want to wear their pants low. When I was young it would have been horrifying to have the girls in my class see either my underwear or the crack of my ass. Different times, I guess. This morning I stopped in a convenient store in downtown Buffalo. As I filled my coffee the two Arab-looking gentlemen behind the counter were engaged in a spirited discussion that caused their voices to change pitch and tone. I had no idea what they were talking about because they were speaking their own language, and it wasn't Spanish - which is the only other language I dabbled in (and that didn't go real well either). I thought of the Simpsons character Apu and realized that it was exactly the stereotype the Simps

Ted Kennedy Must Be Spinning

The Liberal Lion's seat is filled by a Republican's ass. Wow! Who'd have thunk it? As I've admitted countless times during this year I haven't paid much attention to politics at all. I hear the griping coming from those I'd figure would gripe and I've taken a real wait-and-see attitude and have been a little hesitant to make a distinction on how things are going. So how are things going? Suddenly the economy in my field seems a little tighter. Here in Buffalo we are usually unaffected by economic downturns because we are barely out of the toilet bowl anyway. Seems like the water is real close these days. Just a personal observation. And health care seems like something of a fiasco - I hear the plan is lousy, I hear the plan is good, I hear the plan won't pass and we will continue on as is - which isn't a great idea because a lot of what we have now sucks, and it seems like you're an ass for trying, ah, who the hell knows - it doesn't feel lik

Wait For It

There's something new that's annoying me. I hate the show How I Met Your Mother . Last week Jake turned it on as Barney was singing about his suit. My smart son immediately reached for the clicker asking, "Why would anyone watch this?" "Leave it on," I said. "I want to see how bad it is." And it was - wait for it - freaking horrible! And that's what bugs me now - yesterday someone was telling me a joke and in the middle of the punchline stopped and said - "Wait for it." He then finished the joke, and I purposely didn't laugh. "Wasn't that funny?" he asked. "Yeah, but you told me to 'wait for it.' You're a freaking moron and I wasn't going to laugh at your joke." Perhaps I'm a tad sensitive because I wasted a few hours of my life on that crap during the first season because - wait for it - Robin is hot. Perhaps I'm just becoming even more cranky in my old age, or I've just finally

Talk Yourself Into It

A Tueday morning in January, in Buffalo, with a long day of work staring me in the face. "How are you this morning?" the convenience store clerk asked me as I handed her the money for the newspapers. "I'm trying to talk myself into it," I said. She laughed. "That's a great answer," she said. "Seems like I do that most every day." I don't know, something about this time of year - the body seems to ache, the idea of how I was going to change in the coming year doesn't seem that exciting, thirty some days until pitches and catchers report, it's always freaking cold - my golf clubs have to be freezing in the garage. The Mega Millions is tonight, but the prospect of getting one number doesn't thrill me. The news is the horrible state of Haiti, Jay Freaking Leno, and the Bills hiring another stiff for a coach. Did I mention it's cold? Still, I talked myself into it and had a pretty productive day. I even laughed a little wit

Thoughts Collected

The Martin Luther King Jr. holiday is a good thought, but how come half the world has to work? Shouldn't we all be off or all be on? It's going to be different on Cliff Fazzolari day. Who gives a crap, who really cares about Conan versus Jay? I swear to God there are people debating the issue from coast-to-coast - I'm already a couple hours into sleep by the time the shows start. Personally, I don't think either of them are funny. Man, the footage from Haiti is just awful, and Pat Robertson is just stupid, and Clinton and W.Bush working together is just funny, and the worldwide response does the heart good. It's hard to imagine such devastation. Just horrible. Watched the football playoffs with the boys and I must admit I hate people who jump on bandwagons but I have to go J-E-T-S - Jets, Jets, Jets now. First time ever a team from the New York area is such a huge underdog, right? J-E-T-S! 18 days into the new year and after a weekend party I'm trying to get bac

Slow Train Coming

I received a Barnes & Noble Gift card for Christmas and I spent some time browsing through the books this morning, but as I walked by the music section something caught my eye. Right there, in front was a single copy of Bob Dylan's 1979 release Slow Train Coming . When I was 15 years old I wore out that album, listening to it every day. A few years after that I got a cassette copy of it, and pretty much listened until that tape was useless. This morning, I finally got the CD. I hadn't heard it in awhile, but quickly picked out my two favorite songs - Precious Angel and I Believe in You. For the uninitiated, this was Dylan's Christian album. Yet it was still Dylan, the nasally whine and all. As a kid, I knew what he was singing of, but I didn't grasp it all. The nuns had made sure I understood some of it, but it was going to be different listening to it as an adult, wasn't it? Precious angel, how was I to know you'd be the one - To show me I was blinded, to

I've Got My Own Problems Doesn't Apply

Those poor people in Haiti. You've heard that before, but now not only are the poor, but up to a half of a million of them have lost their lives. It's horrific and what can you blame an earthquake on? Surely not God, right? Yet that idiot Pat Robertson did. He says that the people of Haiti suffered that fate because they shook hands with the devil and made a deal that they are now paying for. Doesn't that sort of reasoning just gall you? If God doled out punishment in such a manner wouldn't all of the men who committed crimes suffer earthquakes in their jail cells? Charlie Manson would have suffered from boils or leprosy by now. But it isn't about why the earth shook and brought everything to the ground - it should be more about the response. As a human being there has to be something in your heart for those people. Read the stories, see the anguish on their faces. It's not their problem, it's everyone's, right? Aren't we all connected one way or ano

Men Are More Evolved!

Topping the news today there is a study out that says that men, due to the evolution of the Y chromosome are more evolved than: Ahem, ahem....women. Now this may surprise the females in the crowd who believe that women are actually the more evolved creature, but I have to tell you, I'm not even a little bit surprised. I'm not making it up - don't be mad at me - it's in the news. There's also some mumbo-jumbo about the report not being the set-in-stone end of the debate, but I skipped over that part. Men are more evolved! End of story. Women don't even have the Y chromosome - they are stuck with two X's or something way down on the evolutionary ladder. As a matter of fact, I think the article said that the closest creature to men on the evolutionary chain was some sort of monkey. So it goes - man...then monkey... then Ahem, ahem...women ...Then what? Amobeas? I only report the news. I don't make it up. Sorry women - next time you call us apes, you better

I've Got My Own Problems

First job in yesterday I tried to open a door, it fell off it's hinges and skinned my knuckles. I also ripped off a toenail on my this little piggie went wee-wee-wee, and last night while putting a spice back in the counter I tweaked my shoulder, and it feels like I tore something. In other words, I have my own problems. This all comes up because of Facebook, and waiting on line at the grocery store, and listening to people chat about how miserable they are on any given day. My new mantra - "I got my own problems." Seems like an awful callous way to live, but I put it into the context of Mark McGwire and his steroid explanation. "He hurt his foot, his back was bothering him, his shoulder didn't come back the way it should - that's why he did it - not to gain an advantage. Blah, blah, blah - heard it all before. He was confronted with the truth and he told the world to leave him alone - all together now - he had his problems. What bothers me is that he knew he

Info-Maniac

My son Sam is an info-maniac. He loves all of it - Facebook, text messaging, talking on the phone, talking when he's not on the phone, and gathering enough information so that he has enough to talk about. Over the weekend, we spent time watching the football games and although I tried hard to trip him up with information, he was there to handle it all. When the Bengals had a close play go against them during the 2nd half of their game I mentioned that they should challenge it. "They already used two challanges," Sam said. "Not only can't they challenge, they are going to be hurting for time outs in the 4th quarter." The kid knows more about football than Dick Jauron. Then Kathy equipped their phone with text messages. For a long while Sam went back and forth trading insults with my sister and brother-in-law. His little thumbs were on fire as he tried to keep up. All the while he talked to me about everything that came to mind. Drifting away a bit and playing

Glory Days

Tomorrow night my old high school is having a ceremony to retire the jersey number of my buddy Chris Heinold. Chris was a dominant player back in the early 80's and he went on to captain Canisius' basketball team. For years and years he won tournaments all across the state, and even had a stint playing professional ball in Germany. When Chris called me to invite me to the ceremony I asked him why they weren't retiring my jersey right along with his. "Well, if it were measured in how much you couldn't jump, how unathletic or slow you were, your name would have been in the rafters years ago. You were a superstar in all those categories." Yet I do feel honored by tomorrow's ceremony because for years and years, it was the Heinold-Fazzolari show. I'm not talking on the court, mind you, but I was no dummy back then. I understood that the best way to have fun was to hang with the best player on the team. Chris and I sat beside one another on the team bus - w

My Main Man, Marshawn

Well, well, well look who's back in the news. That terrific running back from the Buffalo Bills, Marshwan Lynch. Let's recap: First off, he performed a hit and run in downtown Buffalo, hid out from the cops for a couple of weeks, and then paid a hundred dollar fine. He's still getting sued for that one. Then he went west and got picked up by the cops with firearms and pot in the car - they dropped the drug charges. The NFL was working on their image though so they suspended him for four games to start the season. Last month, he allegedly took $20 off a table at a restaurant and refused to give it back to the women he was supposedly terrorizing. Unfortunately, for him, the woman's husband is a Detective on the Buffalo police force. After the criminal report was filed the Hamburg police department, in what can only be considered an effort to keep things quiet mailed the woman the twenty bucks with a letter. I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding. He lost his job as a

What's He Do When He Gets There?

It seems that that hijacker that tried to blow up the plane to Detroit really didn't think it all the way through, you know? I have faith in God. I question that faith from time to time and struggle to make it seem reasonable in my every day existence, but I'm not sure that I would be willing to go the extra mile so to speak to please God if it means taking myself out of life in the process. Which brings me to the problem I have with the process the hijacker (and God help me, I ain't going to try and spell his name) had when boarding the plane. Wasn't the sacrifice of his own life an effort to draw favor with his god and receive all of those virgins in heaven? How does he feel he's going to accomplish it if he blows his frank and beans off in the process? You understand where I'm coming from? Not to mention that he seemed to blow the golden rule that every kid hears from their mother before leaving the house - wear clean underwear! Now I imagine that there was s

Demons, Demons Everywhere

I listen to the Howard Stern Show every day. Like millions of others I get caught up in the lives of the entertainers and the show is pretty much open in all areas. Over the course of the last few years Artie Lange has been the funny sidekick who's life is dissected at every turn. He is also a very successful entertainer, actor and even a bestselling book writer. His book was scary for the life he lived, but quite good. It made you feel for what he's gone through. You would think millions of dollars, season tickets to the Yankee games, and pretty substantial fame would chase his demons away, but a few weeks ago, he stabbed himself nine times (or the story goes) in an effort to end his days. Howard explained that we are all chasing away demons and said that lately Artie's demons have been winning. First off, a true shame. Anyone in that much pain deserves a little sympathy. A life shouldn't go in that direction. And the demons are there, right? Yet we are all supposed to

How is the New Year Treating You?

Still stuck in the snow here. Wondering what will thrill me to pass the time. I have a good friend who talks me through the lulls in the writing, but to be honest with you, I don't have a black notebook on the desk and I'm not planning on buying one. Feels like the book career will be a wrap with number 10 coming out this year. Which brings me to another strange feeling - normally I send the copies of the manuscript to my publisher with a real skip in my step,knowing that I did my very best, and that people will enjoy the book. Writing about Jeff was never anything more than a labor of love that had a torture session attached to every single word. I did my best, and you will love the spirit, but so, so hard to get fired up about the release. And that is where it all comes to pass...why it feels like the end of my writing career. My wife asked me yesterday about what was next on the agenda. I always had a next... "I'm going to play brickbreaker and watch Judge Judy,&quo

Top Ten

This time of year is famous for lists. There's a list for the greatest moments, a list for the worst moments and a list for all the moments in between. My all-time favorite list was from Letterman back about twenty years ago. He had the top ten numbers from one to ten. Then he goes... number 10 - 6, number 9 - 4, number 8 - 7 Pretty funny by the time he got to number one - which I believe was one. Anyway, I find that I always look at the lists and put my own spin on things. Top ten greatest rock bands? Bruce and the Stones better be way up there. Top 10 songs of all-time - spare me the Highway to Heaven crap - they stole every note of that song. Look at Imagine, or anything by the Beatles. Top 10 athletes - spare me Cheetah and Lance Armstrong and Michael Phelps - I can swim, par a hole, and ride a bike. Give me Pujols hitting a 100 mph 400 feet (I can't do that), a football player doing a 40-yard dash in under six minutes (I can't do that), or a hockey player even standing

Bills 51 Raiders 3

I remember it like it was yesterday. The tailgate party stretched on for hours, but it was too cold to really enjoy the beer. Besides the anticipation of the event forced us to drink the night before so we were all a little off our games. Yet the weather was cold - Buffalo in January - how could it not be? - and we were rooting for it to be colder. The Raiders were in town for the AFC Championship Game and we wanted them to be icicles as they tried to stop Kelly, Reed and Thurman. The Bills ran the hurry-up offense and by 1:15 PM they were ahead 7 to 0. The Raiders went three and out and ten minutes later Howie Long, their big defensive end, was doubled over in pain - one play later it was 14 to zip. By halftime the game was over - the Bills were winning 41 to 3. The crowd was frenzied. The snow started to fall. I remember sitting there watching the snow fly, and the fans waving signs that said 'Buffalo is going to the Super Bowl'. I remember thinking that I'd never be at a

Alas

I love that word, 'Alas'... Alas, I knew that I couldn't spend '10 just lying 'neath the covers to study my pain. The beep, beep, beep, beep of a neighbor's car alarm began at 4 AM. By 4:02 it was silenced, only to begin again by 4:03, and on and on it went. Of course, going back to sleep is never an option for me, so I laid there waiting for it to start, then stop, then start again. It got to the point where I was trying to time it, and missing it when it didn't actually start when I thought it might. It's like the people who live near the airport and miss the sound of the planes rattling their windows. And I thought of the myriad of the ways I could react. I could lie there and take it, or I could trudge down the stairs and out the front door and try to figure out who the hell was waking up the neighborhood. I thought of my father and a couple of my brothers who'd be willing to chase down the offender. Beep, beep, beep. I finally centered in on jus

The Hangover

Finally saw the movie the other night - I was afraid that I would expect too much of it, but I decided not to read too much into it, and actually thought it was all right. Not my favorite comedy ever - Knocked Up and Me, Myself and Irene are still tough to beat. But the hangover was comical because a lot of people have been there - The what did I do last night- aspect of it is entertaining. And Vegas was fun, but I can't tell you about it. So the new year begins the first of the year items right along with it - the first baby born, the first homicide (guess those resolutions didn't work out) and the first arrests. Buffalo had the first birth in the first hour and the first murder in the first 12 hours - we had 11 relatively peaceful hours I suppose. Did you read about the two NBA players pulling guns on each other in the locker room? They do play for the team that used to be the Bullets - poetic justice. And Rush Limbaugh has a healthy heart - Oh Thank God - I was so worried. M

The Send Off it Deserved

Kicked it into high gear last night and gave '09 the send off it deserved. Plenty of drinks with some great friends - a few laughs - and a few more drinks. Good riddance '09. Better things to come. Today is rehydration day. Happy New Year! Back at it again tomorrow.