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Showing posts from August, 2010

This Is the Time

I-Pod listening on a long drive home. I have some Billy Joel on the dial and love the song This is the Time. This is the time to remember because it will not last forever. These are the days to hold onto because we won't although we'll want to. So the wheels started turning. When was that perfect moment? Did you take the moment into your hands? I thought of the moment when I saw Jake born. What I saw of him first were his feet - he came out the right way, but for some reason or another it was his feet I saw first, and it was crazy to me that he had these perfect little feet. It caught me by surprise and made me gasp for a breath as though I'd just had the wind knocked out of me. I've held that moment. There was also the time when I saw Pam Anderson in a string bikini on a Miami beach. When I close my eyes that moment is right there. But there are so, so many more. And isn't it funny that when we are caught in a moment, we sort of tell ourselves to hang onto that mom

Feeling Mighty Small

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Spent hour after hour in the car today. Drove all the way through Adirondack Park in beautiful New York State and man, I felt small. Believe it or not I've been relaxed over the last few days. It makes no sense. In three weeks time I've spent 6 days in the funeral home in my hometown. Our family has been devastated again, and I find myself shrugging my shoulders. It's not that I'm not sad. I am. It's not that I don't feel there is an unfillable void. It's just that I feel tiny. The universe has certainly humbled me, and never more so than it did today. As I drove through the mountains, looking at the streams, and the river and the huge rocks, I felt miniscule. The sun was riding high in a crystal blue sky. Birds were darting in and out of my line of vision, and I kept thinking about God's hand in the beauty before me. How can it be ignored? And when you see the perfection it's almost impossible to consider that the plans you're trying to make are

I-Tunes Could Be A Problem

Technically speaking I'm a mess. Mechanically speaking, of course, I'm much worse. But, we may have a problem. You see, beyond all odds, I've learned how to order music from I-Tunes, click a button, buy it and download it to my I-pod. For those of you doing it for years and years, and despite the fact that there are 3-year olds that can accomplish this, I may have discovered something that may put me into financial ruin. I remember thinking, as a teenager, that I would love to go into a record store with a pile of money and just buy as much stuff as the cart could hold. Now I can do that and its scary. So, how did I arrive there? The Mellencamp CD was out. I needed it, of course, as I've purchased everything he's ever done. Problem being, there aren't many record stores anymore and the Mall wasn't attractive to me. So, I tried I-Tunes. Kathy and the boys offered to help me out, but it was something I'd have to learn on my own. I was able to download Mell

The Black Notebook

Okay, so the people who know me really well...Kathy, Carrie, Johnny C., Pat, Yvonne, Corinne, Cindy and everyone else at Sterlinghouse... are sort of feeling smug right now, but it wasn't that it was always going to happen. I'm buying a black notebook to write something new. There, I said it. Three weeks ago I was adamant...it wasn't going to happen. I was enjoying life without having self-imposed deadlines. I didn't have anything to say anyway, and no one wanted to listen. And then I got an idea. I can't say that the idea hit me out of nowhere. It was developed as I struggled to try and say goodbye to my father. It was further enhanced by another tragedy, and of course, that was compounded by trying to battle through the writing of my last book which was also inspired by an earth-shattering tragedy. Doesn't sound like I'm writing a comedy, huh? Well...maybe. It's just starting to take shape in my head, and truth be told, when you are waking up in the mo

Look Up!

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Before each pitch Yankee player Nick Swisher glances skyward in a tribute to his grandmother. I remember thinking that to be odd because he's standing up there with a hundred and one things to do before the 95 MPH pitch comes at him. He's a good hitter anyway. Swisher also never misses. It doesn't matter if he's there for ten pitches, he looks up each time. I often think about a conversation I had with my brother Jeff one night. We were celebrating Carrie returning home from her first year of law school, and we had a few adult beverages and wandered out to the backyard to get rid of the beer. The summer sky was filled with stars and on a clear night the black void didn't seem to be so far away. "Look up," Jeff said. "People don't look up enough. "It's an amazing universe." This morning I was out doing my thing and the morning sky was sort of expressive, don't you think? I was trying to think back in time to when life didn't s

Snitches Get Stitches

So, I decided to read the paper as a distraction this morning and of course the front page news is the arrest of the man that is believed to be the guy who gunned down 8 people in a Buffalo Nightclub. (Then you wonder why I read the Ladies Home Journal ). And there were a number of references to the fact that the police had a difficult time collecting evidence because people just don't want to rat out others. The neighborhood code being that snitches get stitches , or end up in a body bag. And what is even more disconcerting is that there have been demonstrations burning the Buffalo News because there was a story about the victims having criminal records. Evidently, that should not have been a part of the story. I do agree that having a crime on your record is not cause to be gunned down, but The News didn't do it - they were just reporting. Reporting the negative, sure, but I read the article and it wasn't slanted to say that the victims deserved their fate. It was a fair

From Love to Death to Heaven

We aren't supposed to be thinking of death so much. As a child I can only remember my father crying one time due to a loss of a friend. I remember how bad that tore me up to see him so sad. And the wheels of life turn. Children lose grandparents and then parents. We are all working on being replaced. My kids are my replacement, right? Simple procedure. Down the line - we all get our 80 + years - and then its on to the next to make their time. But it doesn't work like that. Death has no age. A young girl, a brother, a child, a newborn baby. And we push it to the back of our minds and try to avoid the subject as best we can. I can't shield my children from it these days. They've lost their uncle, their grandfather, and now the brother of my closest friend. All too young, all against the odds that are supposed to be there. Another couple of dear friends had the "anniversary" yesterday of the loss of their beautiful child. Around every corner. As a Dad I'm sup

Longest Days

Feeling like the narrator of this song today... By John Mellencamp It seems like once upon a time ago I was where I was supposed to be My vision was true and my heart was too There was no end to what I could dream I walked like a hero into the setting sun everyone called out my name death to me was a mystery I was too busy raising Cain But nothing lasts forever your best efforts don't always pay Sometimes you get sick and you don't get better that's when life is short even in its longest days. So you pretend not to notice that everything has changed the way you look and the friends you once had so you keep on acting the same but deep down in your soul you know you ain't got no flame and who knows then which way to go Life is short even in its longest days. All I got here is a rear view mirror reflections of where I've been so you tell yourself you'll be back on top some day but you know there's nothing waiting for you up there anyway. Nothing lasts forever y

Cheetah! Free Man!

The news of Cheetah Woods divorce just came down. It's final. He's a free man. Now he can go out and play the back nine without fear of being caught. What a relief. Perhaps he will be able to hit the ball straight down the fairway now. Truth be told, though, I spent a lot of time rooting during his most recent tourneys. Of course, I was rooting against him, hoping that he'd double-bogey everything. And he did stink. I really hope this doesn't clear his mind enough to let him win next year. Yet speaking of marriage. My wife and I spent a long time the other night trying real hard to convince other couples to follow our advice about relationships. The gist of it was real funny to us and a little horrifying to our nieces and nephews. Yet what was interesting was to see the couples all dressed up, newly married, or on the verge of starting a relationship, and listening to them dream big. So what's the advice? First off, expect that kids will change everything. To believ

The Golf Ball

When I finish a round of golf I toss the ball in the side door of my car and listen to it roll around as I go about my business, once in awhile thinking of it, as I try and figure out when I'll get to play again. Three weeks ago, I tossed the ball and completely forgot about it. I forgot because life got in the way. Big Time. And this is how weird I truly am. Today when I retrieved the ball for use on the course, I actually told it that I missed it. I didn't get a response. I wanted to let it know about my Dad, and the weeks of work, grief, sickness, soreness, and general aggravation. But in my mind, I think it knew. It knew that I needed it to be a healthy distraction. I wanted it to behave well for me through the day. Feeling a little under the weather due to a lot of drinks at a wedding. Who didn't see that coming? But you gotta' love a wife who orders you a dirty martini at 1 AM. I placed the ball on the tee, thinking that we would have a wonderful day together. The

Doing My Time

I've been out in the desert, doing my time Searching through the dust of fool's gold and looking for a sign. Holy man says, hold on brother, there's a light up ahead... Whenever I leave home for a work trip out of town I think of these Springsteen lines from the tremendous song, Maria's Bed . I am a creature of undeniable habit and routine and unfortunately when the routine is upset I like to hide inside my head and look for signs of a light up ahead. I'm always able to do this when I'm on the road. Unfortunately, the trip was complicated by a lack of sleep and a cold, but I did sift through some of the fool's gold and was able to figure out the beautiful rewards that life has to offer. It's amazing to me, but love does shine through the haze of perpetually foggy days. It isn't a mistake that I'm surrounded by people that care. A lot of folks seem to marvel at the closeness of my immediate family, but that was a specific design, you see, orchestr

I Woke Up Again

About 15 years ago I worked with a guy who was always complaining. My wife also worked with this guy and we used to laugh about his negative demeanor. Kathy once asked him if the first thing out of his mouth in the morning was, "Oh shit, I woke up again." I know the feeling. I spent the evening on the road, in a hotel room with an uneven bed that was most likely filled with microscopic bugs biting at my ankles. My right leg was still bothering me, my mind wouldn't stop sending me memories, I was real tired, and to make it all worthwhile I was battling a cold. Yeah, a freaking cold! I thought of my sister's recent blog where she asked for relief from God above. I'm willing to bet that she didn't have a cold when she wrote that. But I opened my eyes around five AM, and the tasks for the day presented themselves one after another, and I thought of that negative guy. Oh shit, I woke up again. And it's never that bad, but there certainly are days... I'm abo

Cross Your Heart

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I don't lie very well. Not sure if the nuns beat it out of me, or it was being afraid of disappointing my parents, but being brutally honest can be troublesome too, especially when someone asks you a question that deserves a lie. Does this make my ass look fat? Does it taste all right? How much do you weigh? Do you think I'm smart? All questions that should be answered with a slight lie. When you shouldn't lie, for sure: When the FBI, holding syringes with your blood in them, asks if you ever took steroids. I'm not a big fan of Roger Clemens. I hated him when he was on the Red Sux. I feel like he stole a MVP from Mattingly. I hated him less when he was on the Yankees. I sort of liked him when he closed out the World Series in 1999. I would've still disliked him if I knew he were cheating then. I should have figured he was. Because everyone was. But nothing disturbs me more than when I catch my kids mis-remembering something, and then swearing to it. We all make mist

To Build a Mosque?

Of course everyone is willing to weigh in on the fact that there may be a mosque built within a couple of blocks of Ground Zero. The back and forth on the issue has caused a lot of back hair to stand up straight on a lot of people. My initial reaction was much the same as everyone else's - that's awful! How can they possibly allow a mosque to be built so close to the sacred ground where thousands lost their lives to a cowardly act? The very idea of it was preposterous. Then I thought about it a bit. Are the people building the mosque guilty of the terrorist attack? Would we allow a Christian church to go up next to the Federal Building in Oklahoma? Of course we would. But Tim McVeigh was a Christian. Wasn't he the responsible one? I just know that this is going to be one of those political hot button questions that can't be answered. Obama said something about it and he's being crucified. If he would have answered it the other way, he would have also been crucified.

Just Too Weird

Life is certainly a happy little merry-go-round, isn't it? We continue to go in circles, doing our normal things day in and day out, pretending that we are so important that what we do actually needs to be done. Problem is - it does. And once in awhile the merry-go-round stops and someone is forced to get off. But the ride keeps on spinning, doesn't it? And over the last couple of days I've been forced to get back on and find my place in the whirling despair that entraps everyone else. And it's just too weird. But a funny thing has happened to me as I tackle the grief process for the 2nd time in less than 18 months. A process that I never actually worked through to the end the first time. I actually got back on the ride even more determined. Not sure why it has hit me this way, and perhaps there will be a grey goose infused crash coming my way, but in thinking back on my father's life, I was buoyed by his work ethic, his spirit and his fighting style. I took into co

Timmy Ho's & Mickey D's

McDonalds has 22 million visitors per day! If you figure everyone is spending 5 bucks, that's a cool hundred mil per day. The other day I dared to drive by a Tim Horton's coffee here in Blasdell and I couldn't get by because the line for the drive-thru extended into the road. I officially don't get it. McDonald's for me is an absolute last resort. Whenever I eat one of their hamburgers I feel as if I'm going to immediately vomit. If I don't it just sits in my stomach like a lead ball for the rest of the day. And I'm not a fan of anybody's French Fries. As for coffee. It's freaking coffee! I chug a cup in the morning for something to do. I can't taste the difference between good coffee and bad coffee. I certainly won't wait on line for a cup of coffee at a drive-thru window. I don't know. It's all about the fattening of America, and while I will never be mistaken for a model, I get my extra weight with good food. Too much pasta? ce

My Father's Eyes

A few years ago Kathy called me at work to let me know that I won a contest on 97 Rock and that I had an hour to call in and claim my prize. Turns out I won Eric Clapton's music collection as well as a limo ride and dinner before seeing Clapton at Gund Arena in Cleveland. A nice prize by all measures, but I'm not the world's biggest Clapton fan. Didn't matter. Kathy and I packed a cooler with beer, loaded out Springsteen CD's and headed off to Cleveland. The limo driver opened the window at one point and asked if we knew who we were going to see. Clapton was what I expected. An accomplished guitar player who didn't say three words to the audience. Still, I can't complain about the show. I love the fast version of Layla , but he played the slow one. I wanted to hear him sing My Father's Eyes , and he did. I always loved that song. He sings about being a father himself and needing to look at his children, as a parent, through his father's eyes. I ofte

Respect Life

The headlines read that 8 are shot, 4 dead at a Buffalo, NY restaurant. A simple headline in just another city here in the United States. No one will ever really register the names of the victims. Tomorrow someone else will shoot even more people. And we all move on. The price we pay for living free, I suppose. Perhaps I'm on heightened alert because the past week has taught me, once more, that life is precious. People are gone. Senselessly. And the pain will continue to crest as I continue to glance at the stories of the day. Four high school students dead in a high speed crash. Alcohol may have played a part. Another classmate crashes his motorcycle after leaving the funeral. He dies as well. And then through it all a glimmer of hope. Cards and letters still coming in the mail as people try their best to help my family wade through the pain of having lost another member. And I'm not naive enough to think that the people I'm reading about won't be missed by those who l

Doing the Turtle

Trying hard to get some decent rest, and actually recognizing signs of hiding in the shell. I'm not sure what it is. Perhaps there's a fear of being hurt some more, but I often find that what I want to do is clean all the crap up that's around me. I vacuumed my car today and sprayed it with a new car scent. I wrote checks, worked on the expense account, re-established a semblance of a schedule for next week, and declined all offers to get out and get my mind off things. Even golf has no appeal right now. Still, it wasn't enough. I cleaned the bathrooms, vacuumed the house and actually debated cleaning out my closet because I will never ever fit in size 32 pants again, unless of course, I get a debilitating disease, and given the events of the past 16 months, that seems logical. So I left the closet alone. I read my copy of the Ladies Home Journal and ESPN . Yes, Ladies Home Journal - great recipes and the ever-popular Can This Marriage Be Saved. I'm always rooting f

Starting Over Again

The fatigue in my bones is hauntingly familiar. It's an ache that is so strong, that it seems that the train that crashed into my family life hit me head on and carried me for miles and miles. The overwhelming idea is to run and hide inside myself until the aching somehow subsides, but my Daddy didn't raise any quitters. Still, it is impossible to really know what the thought process of the next couple of days, months, or even years will bring. Most likely a million and one stories of a man who lived a full, and mostly happy life. The exception being the last 16 months when the heartache of losing my brother was too much for his huge heart to handle. But the exhaustion of heart, mind and body has absolute control right now, and I realize that I'm not in it alone. My mother, my siblings, our spouses, are all feeling it. We were all on the tracks when that train came barreling through. But we will begin again. And that's because time waits for no one. Life doesn't slo

The Promised Land

This was to be my 1000th post anyway ...guess God gave it even more meaning... The Promised Land by Bruce Springsteen On a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert I pick up my money and head back into town Driving 'cross the Waynesboro county line I got the radio on and I'm just killing time. Working all day in my daddy's garage driving all night chasing some mirage Pretty soon, little girl, I'm gonna' take charge. The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't a boy, no I'm a man And I believe in a promised land. I've done my best to live the right way I get up each morning and go to work each day but your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode Explode and tear this whole town apart take a knife and cut this pain from my heart. The dogs on Main Street howl 'cause they understand If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain't

March 16, 1996

My siblings and I were filled with an overwhelming love for our Dad. Through the years, he dropped us a line now and then to let us know...the love he held for us in his heart. This is a letter he mailed to me after Waldorf & Juli was published. Cliff, Good job on the book. I'll get a chance to read it soon I hope. Of course I'm proud. You've made me proud so many times, like when you wheeled the cart into the dumpster in San Francisco, or spilled the cold cuts on the cellar stairs, or planted the cukes in the manure pile, and many more things - like learning to tie your shoes when you were 11 years old. The only thing that was truly brave & heroic is when you helped me off the floor in Mountain View when the turkey attacked me from the oven. Some day you'll have the leisure time to think about a lot of nice memories - since my father died there are so many instances that come to mind every day. I couldn't cry when he left until over a year later when it hit

Feel Like A Dog That's Been Kicked Too Much

Lost my Dad today. He told me a few things over and over: If someone gives you a job to do, do more than what is expected. Don't compete with anyone but yourself. Love your family. The essence of the man, but there was so much more. We have limited time and space to get things done. He built a world of wonder and love. Gonna' take a long time to say goodbye. If ever.

History of the Word Part II

When I set about writing Book#5 In Real Life I was actually living a real life for the first time. Newly married with a child who arrived before the wedding thank-you's were delivered, I was battling to write while living. I was writing about a guy who's Real Life wasn't exactly matching up with the one he imagined. It began with him finding out that Santa Claus wasn't who he thought, and the truths in his life continued to trick him into a world of despair. Hands down, it was the most fun I ever had writing a book. My brother Jeff was working as a comedy consultant. My characters were so alive that I got real emotional as I reached the conclusion of the story, and I learned so much about editing and transitions and selling books. I went to Book Expo America for the first time and met Johnny Cash's son, Jamie Lee Curtis and Gene Hackman. Too cool. Talk about life not matching reality! I love In Real Life . Still smile every time I think of it, and use it to read to

Why Write? Part One

There are clear motivations to writing. As I approach the milestone blog - this is #996 of 1000 - I am nostalgic for the old days and the wonderful feeling of being inspired. I'm going to take you through the reasons for writing all my books. Hopefully it'll be entertaining. Book #1 - MONEY CHANGES EVERYTHING - 22 years old - young and dumb and full...you know the rest of the story. This book absolutely blows. If you see a copy don't open it. Call me. I will come and buy it off of you. Shouldn't have done it, but wanted to do it because I thought I was funny and the best writer in the world. My college buddy Kevin Gema did the cover. That sucked too. I own two copies. Won't let anyone touch them. Book #2 - EYE IN THE SKY - Wrote it in 1987 - published in 1992 (I believe)after losing a friend in a car accident. I was absolutely dumbfounded by the loss of a person who was so alive one moment and gone the next. What I remember about it is that it was a raw nerve to wri

Looking For A Moment

I'm riding down Kingsley figuring I'll get a drink. Turn the radio up loud so I don't have to think. I take her to the floor looking for a moment when the world seems right and I tear into the guts of something in the night. I'm closing in on a thousand blogs and unlike A-Rod I should get there pretty quickly. For some reason, of course, as I think of meeting this monumental feat, I consider Springsteen and some of the lyrics that have meant the most to me through the years. I woke up with the above song on my mind. I love the line - looking for a moment when the world seems right - found it a few times...yes I have...look for it every day...like a blind squirrel, find it now and again. There was a car accident in today's paper. Husband, wife, two young kids...wiped out by a drunk driver. The guy was a friend of a friend, and my friend summed it up rather succinctly: "It's awful," he texted back. And there are so many moments when the world isn't r

Where the Hell Is Kate Hudson?

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A-Rod used to choke. Last World Series he stopped choking. Kate Hudson was cheering him on, and more. Now she's gone. A-Rod has had a crap year. He's choking as he tries to hit #600. Bring back Kate for a week. The Steinbrenners can hire her so she can do the job. Which takes me to a couple of real baseball stories. The above photo is Jake Fazzolari, of course. He hits from the left side, and just prior to this at-bat, with runners on first and second, he explained that he was just trying to hit the ball hard somewhere. "If number 600 comes, it comes," he said as he strolled to the plate. He lined three straight foul and then chased a high fastball for strike three. "Guess the fans will have to wait," he said as he tossed his helmet aside, smiling the whole time. As he strolled to the plate my mind shifted to a game played on a little league diamond 31 years ago. I was 14 at the time and was in attendance at my brother Jim's game at the North Collins Ele

Wrong Again!

Back-to-back posts today. Because, once more, I have to let my wife know that I was wrong again. So far the score is 3,245,008 to 2. Yes, in the history of our marriage she has been wrong twice, but she eventually twisted it around until it was my fault and I don't even remember what she was wrong about. So, what happened, you ask? Saturday night the calls started getting serious about golf on Sunday. Unbeknownst to my wife the tee time was set in stone. I broke the news in the mid-afternoon. "I'm golfing tomorrow." "Really?" "Yeah I'm ready to go. I worked on the foot all week. I'm healed." "Really?" The debate was over in my mind. I was ready to play. "I think you need another week of rest." "Nah, I'm good." On the fourth hole, just walking back towards the cart, I stepped down and my foot betrayed me. My buddy John saw the misstep. "I'm good," I said. I actually played okay, but got gassed

American Idol Shake-Up

My God, I can hardly think today. The turmoil and despair that is running around in my brain is almost too much to take. What will American Idol look like next year? This is what we know for sure: 1). Simon is out. Of course, this is the most devastating of all news. How will we go on? 2). Ellen is out. That's okay, I suppose. I never really liked HIM. 3). Kara is out. How will we live without her telling the contestants that they need to dig deep and sing from the heart. Every freaking time. 4). Randy is still in. Dawg! Why the hell didn't they dump your dumb ass too? So now what - three out and just one in. Could you imagine the show if Randy were the only judge. How can we go on?????? The American Idol panel couldn't possibly find anyone else that could irritate me more than who they are proposing as replacements: 1). Steven Tyler . Never liked Aerosmith. Hate his look. His huge mouth and his screaming. He is a Mick Jagger wanna' be. No thanks. 2). Jessica Simpso

This Is Crazy! This Is Crazy!

One of my favorite scenes from the Vacation movies with Chevy Chase is just before he is going to strip down and jump into the pool with Christie Brinkley. Good old Chevy claps his hands together a couple of times and chants, "This is Crazy! This is crazy!" Not sure why I enjoy it so much, probably just because he knows its wrong, but that he just has to do it, right? In the last few days I've read a number of stories about some sick people who must know, in the light of day, that what they are doing is downright crazy, sick, or demented, but they do it anyway. Here in Buffalo - well actually well South of the city - a group of four is being sought in connection with an armed robbery. This Apple Dumpling Gang held up a horse and buggy being commanded by an Amish couple. Not kidding. Gun to the head, demanding the wallet. "We don't carry wallets," the perplexed man screamed. The gunman raised his weapon and fired a shot at the feet of the horse, got into the