Thoughts of a Common Man

For according to Mark 11:23–24, Jesus says, “Truly I tell you, if you say to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and if you do not doubt in your heart, but believe that what you say will come to pass, it will be done for you. So I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” Late last night my sister-in-law called us with more bad news from the hospital in the care of our nephew Jake. Another setback. Another devastating wave of tears, sadness and extreme fear. I know the feeling all too well, and I shriveled inside myself, wishing that there was Jameson's in the house. Five minutes later, I was on the computer. My sons had posted on their Face Book accounts. "Say a prayer for Jake Brotz. He's in the hospital and he really needs it." I wandered the house for a minute, trying to make a little sense. I thought of Jake; a good man by all accounts. Just 29 years old. Two beautiful, happy, wonderful c...

I used to love to go fishing. Of course, I haven't been fishing in years because when I took the boys, Sam casted and hooked the back of his head and we all ended up in the emergency room. (For the record, Kathy was in charge during the fateful cast -I was getting a beer). Anyway, now 'fishing' is a dirty word around our house. But thinking back on it, I remember fishing with my brothers, four real dark boys throwing their lines into a pond, with bobbers on the line and worms on the hook. What I liked about it was the anticipation of seeing the bobber get sunk by a tug on the line. I was completely out of control of the situation. I could only see what was happening on the surface and had no clue as to what was going on underneath. Now I hate fishing. I hate the bobber being torn asunder. What I'm getting at here is that for the last nearly two years, I have been the bobber on the water. I try hard to stay afloat, ride the crest of the waves, and not sink. I've trie...

Back in 1988 I found myself working in New Haven, Ct. My brother John was assigned to Hartford, Ct., for a couple of weeks, so being that my brothers and sisters have always been my best buddies, we got together on a weekend for a little food, and a few beers. It's funny, but I remember that weekend because we laughed our asses off. First we cooked steak on the grill, while we drank a few beers. Then we watched the Yankee game, while we drank a few beers, and finally, we played cards (guess along) while we drank a few beers. While we were playing cards we put on some music - Bruce, of course, Stones, Who, Dire Straits - the rock and roll favorites. I distinctly recall one moment however, when the tape ran out. I ran off to the fridge and the head, and John found the next tape to play. He hit the button just as I entered the room. Barbara Streisand's voice filled the room. Now you must remember, we were drinking beers as fast as we could open them. Also, John is the strongest gu...

1).Why do people call you to tell you they're sending you an e-mail, send you the e-mail and then call you again to see if you got it? Send me the freaking e-mail and shut the hell up. I'm busy. 2). Why is there a sign at the Dunkin Donuts Shop on the Thruway that says, "We can no longer accept Dunkin Donuts Coupons?" Do you think Starbucks will accept them? What the hell kind of crap is that? 3). Why every Monday do I hear people say: 'I can't believe it's Monday already?' Or worse, when the new month begins they say: 'I can't believe it's already November.' Correct me if I'm wrong but it goes that way every week...Saturday, Sunday and then freaking Monday. September, October and then freaking November. Why can't you believe it? Happens every week. Happens every year. It's a pattern. Not that hard to figure out. Write it on your hand if you have to so you don't get caught by surprise when the next week or month ends. 4)...

So, Matt has decided to forego his job at Matt-Donalds so that he can concentrate on the upcoming basketball season. I wasn't completely enamored with this decision as there are a number of things about my own youth that come into play here. As teens we were encouraged to work hard to put some money away so that we could help pay for our college experiences. In my mind, that's how it should go. Of course, there is another train of thought that says kids should be kids for as long as they can and that their job is school. So far Matt is doing well in his studies, so I will begrudgingly give him the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, I went to bed thinking about it last night. In the middle of the night, I was treated to a vivid dream that sort of hammered it home to me. Actually, it wasn't really a dream because it really happened. Travel back in time to 1983. I was 18. I was going to college during the school year and working as a grunt union laborer during every single break an...

In about ten days I will walk into my local fire hall, close the curtain behind me and cast my vote in a whole bunch of elections. How the hell do I vote with a clear mind? Have you done your homework on all of the candidates? Are you voting for the best looking candidate? The one with the least aggravating commercials? Someone who's party you think your in line with? Just voting against all the people who have already been in office because you want to wipe everyone out? Voting for a candidate because Obama told you to? Or because Sarah Palin mentioned that you should vote along party lines? Voting for a guy who says he's mad? Voting for a senator because she's hot? Or stupid like the rest of us? This is truly a confusing time and I cherish my right to vote, but wonder if I truly have all the right information to make a good choice. There is one candidate who will get my vote next Tuesday because I drank beer with him once, and he was a funny guy. There's another guy w...

So we have another major scandal on our hands with a famous married man and a very young reporter. You know I love these. Brett Favre is accused of sending voicemails and text messages to a pretty, young sideline reporter. Allegedly one of the photos he sent along was a snapshot of his, (uh, I hate when I have to search for a word) 'peaker'. Why did I spell it 'peaker'? One time Kathy and I were watching a movie and unbeknownst to us, Jake snuck into the room. The punchline of a joke that we both laughed at contained the word 'pecker'. When I noticed Jake I ushered him from the room, and he asked me why I laughed at the joke. I tried to give a lame answer, but he wasn't buying it. Finally he asked, "Dad, what's a peaker?" So, around our house we refer to 'it' as a peaker. Anywho, back to our regularly scheduled blog. Here are the facts. 1). The girl is pretty. No Kathy Fazzolari, mind you, but attractive enough. They always are. And tha...

Went to church tonight sort of as a way to catch my breath and listen to the choir, and hear the prayers. Kathy and the boys stayed home, leaving me to catch the vibe on my own. Which was good, I craved the silence from the outside world. But of course, the priest, during his sermon, had to mention that we all had more time on our hands now that 'the Yankees didn't live up to expectations.' I had to laugh. Yet my mind was in serious wander mode. I thought of all the people gathered on a Saturday night, attending church for a variety of reasons - some people perhaps craving the silence, some praying for huge things, some dreading every second of it because they had something else to do. I was there for peace and comfort, so it was easy to enjoy it all. The man in the choir had a heavenly voice, never messing up even a single note. About halfway through mass, a girl of about 17 turned around to give the guy a thumbs up. Then, she did it every thirty seconds for the rest of th...

The telephone rang late last night. A-Rod had just stepped to the plate with 2 outs in the 9th in a game the Yankees were losing 6 to 1. There weren't any runners on base. They had mustered a pitiful attack in a game they had to win. I had long since given up. "It ain't over yet!" I heard Sam say into the phone. He was talking with my father-in-law, who for all of his life hated the Yankees, but now sort of roots for them because Sam loves them. He wasn't calling to bust on Sam, but to see if his grandson would take it okay. A-Rod took a called 3rd strike and the game was over. "Texas sucks," Sam said defiantly. "I hope they enjoy it because the Yankees will sign Lee and win 2 of 3 next year." I honestly don't know where this kid gets his information. "So what? Let them win the World Series," Sam said. "If they win them all until 2037 they will tie the Yankees." We all went to the Billy Martin school of "Don't t...

Don't you hate when you wake up more tired than when you went to bed? And I'm not sure if its the weather, but I was aching today, and more than the cranky knee. I stopped by to see my friends at the first office and the two wonderful women that work there noticed that I wasn't my usual belligerent, sarcastic self. "You look tired," Debby said. "Something's wrong with me." "Don't say that!" Jeannette joined the conversation and they asked my age. "46," I said. "Yeah, he's getting there," Debby said. My friends went on to explain that there would be a day when you reach the point of no return and the aches and pains of age will just stay with you. Was today my first day of it? Actually I haven't felt quite right since the mid-90's, but man, hopefully there will be more pain-free, well-rested sort of days ahead. The Yanks are going to have two games this weekend - Game 6 tonight and Game 7 tomorrow. Other t...

The other day I silenced the sound on my cell phone. Especially the notifications beep that has a tendency to annoy me whenever an e-mail from Macy's comes in to break my train of thought. The main reason I dropped the audible signs was because the Yanks lost and fell behind 3 to 1 and there were bound to be people texting me with their witty messages. It brings about thoughts of how ridiculous it is that we are all in constant contact. From Face Book to texting to e-mail thru the Rolling Stones ring tone on my phone I am now at a loss if I even head into the other room without my phone in my pocket. Now, don't get me wrong...I enjoy the contact a lot. I have buddies who keep an ongoing conversation going all day long...and especially during the games. When Lance Berkman hit that long drive the other night my phone buzzed five times in a row. "It was foul," was the prevailing thought. Yet there are moments. Like when I am carrying my bags in to check into a hotel room...

Getting a lot of flack about the money the Yankees spend today as it looks as if they are circling the drain on 2010. A guy said to me that they didn't get much with their $200 million dollar payroll. Ah, I hate to be argumentative, but with attendance, television revenues, parking and sales of hats - they made a tidy little profit, and I have to laugh about those who feel that they have an unfair advantage. Let me break it down for you in simple terms. Baseball has a product that sells real well in the Bronx. Should there be a salary cap on the team that plays there? Imagine for an instance that there is...and all teams spent the same... Know what would happen? It happened before - the product wouldn't sell like crazy in the Bronx. Then you know what would happen? The money that the Yankees give to the pool of baseball would go way down. All the other teams sharing (stealing) that money - with their crap attendance and lousy stadiums - would lose a revenue stream. The product ...

I will set the scene as best as I can remember it - I was only 12. The Yanks were playing the Royals for the right to go to the World Series in 1976. It was the middle innings of the game, and the Yanks were down by a couple of runs. "Maybe you should go to bed," my mother said. "Let him stay up," my father answered. "But they're losing," Mom sort of whispered. "So what, they're the Yankees," Dad answered. "What're you worried about?" In the bottom of the 9th Chris Chambliss hit a first-pitch homer to win it, against all odds. As he circled the bases the fans emptied onto the field. "He's gotta' touch home!" I was screaming. But I was talking to an empty room. My father was already making me a salami, cheese, and pepper sandwich. (He made the world's best sandwiches). I thought of all that last night as I watched Girardi (A guy Dad didn't like) flush away Game 4 of the ALCS by leaving AJ in too long...

One of the candidates for governor of New York got up in the middle of one of the other candidates closing remarks to run off to the bathroom. "You gotta'go, you gotta' go." Being as that I am older now - I can sympathize. There are times when I go looking for a bathroom, wondering if I can just pull over and hit the construction toilet on the side of the road. Yet, for the most part, I am able to control where and when I have to go. Like everyone else I like the home field advantage. My own toilet is comfortable. I know where everything is, and I know how well the door locks. It has to be an extreme emergency to use an unfamiliar bathroom. Like the bathroom at the Cracker Barrel restaurant. About a month ago I went with friends to the restaurant for breakfast, and there was a man doing his business in the small stall beside the urinal. The place stunk to high heaven and there were sounds of an animal coming from under the half door. The man just had to be embarrassed...

Sad news over the weekend...Beaver Cleaver's mother is gone. Tell me you didn't watch that show. We all did. I remember asking my mother why she didn't wear a dress and earrings around the house...I shouldn't print her answer. And the old man - Hugh Beaumont (How's that for a memory?) drove me crazy. He was always filled with such wise advice, not to mention that he wore a coat and tie as he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin at the dinner table. Not to speak cross of my beloved Dad, but we used to fight for the seat furthest away from him, particularly if we were having sauce or corn on the cob - food was flying everywhere and God help you if you wore a white shirt sitting next to him as the frenzy began. As a matter of fact, everything about the show sucked. Beaver was a dweeb. Wally was annoying. Neither one of them were very fleet of foot when it came to meeting the girls. Eddie Haskell was a tool. Let me think...who did I like on that crap black and white show? ...

Is a dream a lie if it don't come true, or is it something worse? That's a Bruce question from The River, but it is also a question that has hammered men a lot better than me. We all have dreams. Have your dreams measured up? I will turn 46 tomorrow. Am I where I wanted to be? Is this all there is? Are these the dreams we dreamed? Okay, let's answer the questions that I've posed in such an elaborate fashion. 1). I'm 46. I feel pretty good. A creaky knee, but I'm alive. That's where it begins and ends right now. Check. 2). I have three healthy children who all have wonderful imaginations and dreams that challenge my own on a regular basis. Check. 3). I have two good dogs. No more explanation required. Good dogs. Check. 4). I have a great wife. 'She's no Kathy Fazzolari' hasn't become a slogan just because my wife is wonderful...she deserves it. But did I do the things I Thought I would? I've signed books in Atlanta, Buffalo, NYC and Chicag...

I have no idea how I can explain to my kids that there are people you'll meet in life that will mean more to you than others. The reason why is because I have no idea! As a kid I grew up next to a cute red head who had parents that knew my parents. Her friends knew my friends. I couldn't have gone out with her or I would have gotten cooties. She is now a good friend, of mine, thirty years later, Yvonne.... I went off to college... met a buddy that everyone called Gag because his last name was Gaglianone (Did I even spell it right?)....we only hung out for a year. One of the best friends I've ever known... And I told my boys, you only get a few of those types of relationships and that life was all about establishing what was real with true friends that will forever care about you no matter what the hell you do to them. I have a bunch of buddies. I thought a lot about them this weekend as Kathy left town this weekend. Pops and I had a few beers. Jeffy and I are as thick as th...

Watching Yankee baseball changed dramatically for me in 2009. After losing Jeff, my main partner in root, root, rooting for the Yankees a lot of my friends took it easy on me, believing that I deserved a championship last year. Not anymore. The Yankee haters are really out, baring their teeth and swearing about payroll. (More on that in a later post). That's okay, too, because I can take it, because no one can steal those intimate conversations that I used to have with Jeff. They are all still in my head. Bah, CC is rusty , he would have said after Hamilton drilled a homer to make it 3-zip Texas. Want another Heiny Light? So I had one. They struggle against lefties, he would have said as the middle innings wore on. It's a shame, but Hughes will come up big. Wanna' shot? So I had one. Sipped another beer. Dad just called, Jeff would've said. He said that the Yankees are done. I answered a few ribbing texts from buddies of mine who wanted to remind me that Cliff Lee wou...

Heard this song on the I-pod the other day...it's by Mellencamp from about 10 years ago. Still means quite a bit to me now. Just Like You As my time goes by on the mean, cruel Earth Trying to find some peace and something to believe in. How can things go so wrong in such a beautiful world? Why are so many people crying? Where's humanity gone? And every time it gets so dark; there's nothing for me to see something comes along (just like you) Yea, just like you Something so unbelievably beautiful Just like you Well it happened the other day. I'm just walking down the street I'm looking down at my shoes, with only myself in my way I'm living in my head, too much life in my veins Forgetting all the time that we're always in motion with angels And every time it gets so dark; there's nothing for me to see something comes along (just like you) Yea, just like you Something so unbelievably beautiful Just like you As my time goes by on the mean, cruel Earth Trying...

Is there a better feeling in the world than when the water goes down and the plunger has worked? Just a thought-filled day. Do you think the miner with the wife and the mistress would have liked to have stayed buried? Did you hear about the Florida boy - 8 years old - who at his parents urging donated his pet turtle to the local aquarium because it was too big for his house? The parents stood with the child as the turtle was released into the aquarium and then promptly eaten by an alligator as the kid watched. The witnesses said they heard the shell being crunched. How does that kid forget that sound? It's a teachable moment, I say...the parents can tell the kid that he can do the right thing, love with all of his heart, and then stand back and watch the destruction. "That's life, Junior, Get on with it." More celebrity breakups this week and supposedly Brett Favre sent photos of his winky-dink to a reporter. Just goes to show you, money doesn't make you any smart...

My birthday is coming up in a few days(Monday, for all those that want to acknowledge that I'm a beat-up old slob) and Sam has been doing his best to let me know that he has a few presents for me. He need look no further - he already gave me the best one. You see, Sam is becoming real interested in me as a reader and writer. He is sharing his reading conquests with me and has recently purchased a notebook to jot down his thoughts. Well, his present to me (I have to give it back when I'm done reading it) is something he wrote for a school assignment. I laughed my ass off. The Wrestler by Sam Fazzolari Bob was an eleven-year-old boy who loved wrestling. Bob would always watch wrestling on television. Bob and his brother would wrestle all the time. He played wrestling video games. His dream was to be on the school wrestling team. He told all of his friends that he would make the team. When he went to school to sign up Bob found out that he needed to be 13 years old to wrestle. He ...

There are so many days when the best laid plans go astray... I like to plan things. I hate when things go against the plan. I am learning to deal. I really am. But today...I see the police car lights turning behind me. What the hell did I do? I was only going 10 MPH. My cell phone was on the seat beside me. I hadn't picked it up in miles and miles. "You're tail light is out," the cop informed me when he got to the window. I stopped myself from saying, "Big freaking deal." "Oh really? Golly gee whiz, officer I'd have never left the house had I known." I got off with a warning and was on my way...to a job near the Rainbow Bridge in Niagara Falls. I wasn't quite sure where the job was so I turned into a parking lot to get my bearings. It was a parking lot without an exit. If I tried to back out I was warned of severe tire damage. I went into the Duty Free shop. A nice lady greeted me. "How in the name of God do I get out of the parking lo...

Growing up there were two signs that hung in the cubby-hole in our garage. I remember being a kid and seeing adults laugh at them. One said, "What's the difference between ignorance and apathy?" The next line said, "I don't know and I don't care." The other side said simply: "Ignorance is bliss." Now, I haven't seen those signs around my parents home lately, but I do remember them being there, and like I said, the adults all smiled. I thought of those signs this morning when I read a couple of news stories about violence involving gays, and of course, the speech given by one of the candidates for governor of New York where it was stated that we can't let our children think that homosexuality isn't wrong. Perhaps ignorance is bliss. I really don't get it. Why if you are a straight American do you care to make a statement about gay rights one way or another? I am all for equality of people and you can bet your ass that if I felt d...

And now all I do is sit in my darkened room and on occasion break my silence to howl at the moon. Let me set the scene. Ten after eight in the morning and I have grated cheese, a loaf of French bread and ground sausage to mix with the meatballs (three guesses on who made sauce). My bill comes to $12.01 and I hand the girl a twenty. She counts out seven bucks and starts rooting around in the change. "Seriously, you're giving me .99 cents back," I ask, fairly nicely. "I don't want my drawer to come up short at the end of the day," she says. "Sorry." Doesn't that just piss you off? Getting ready for the week ahead and we need to start it this way. She hands me the change as I grit my teeth. to curse every nerve and neuron in my brain that won't stop the pain I'm feeling and let me stop thinking. "Can I get twenty-five pennies for a quarter?" I ask. She thinks I've turned the corner and am seeing things the way she does. She d...

For the very first time, I took a few minutes today to download photos to a new author page for Face Book. My sister put together the page for me and I went through the archives and wrote a caption for each posted photo. A couple of things struck me down while doing this: 1). I've had a full life of wonderful friends, family, and experiences. From signing books in New York to meeting the Fonz, to speaking at Women & Children's Hospital of Buffalo, to partying on a penthouse in Miami...the writing has indeed been fun. 2). I look like a dope in most of the photos. Either too breasty, too much belly fat, eyes closed, hat on, tennis shoes on in a business setting...beer in my hand. What the hell happened? Leonardo I am not. So, the other night, in one of my 'I wanna' change my clothes, my hair, my face,' moments, I decided to shave and give the goatee a trim. I got the work done and then looked at my eyebrows. The razor trims the goat well...why the hell not. I don...

Baseball continually gives life lessons. On Wednesday with two outs in the bottom of the 9th Delmon Young of the Twins hit a sinking liner into right that was caught by Greg Golson for the last out. Except it was called a trap. The Yankees were in disbelief and Joe Girardi came out to have it explained. The umps got together to discuss and they still missed the call. Mariano took a deep breath and executed the next pitch, getting Thome to pop up and end the game. I saw my 10-year old son, Sam, who hasn't missed a pitch when I got in the door on Thursday. "Did you see that horrible call the ump made?" Sam asked. "Mariano got 'em," I said. Cut to Thursday afternoon, Michael Young took a check swing at a two strike pitch. The ump ruled that he didn't swing, giving him another pitch, which Young hit out of the park. Tampa fans went crazy, wanting to kill the ump. The difference in the two situations? The pitcher for Tampa did not respond well to the adverse ...

It's a lonely proposition when you realize there are left days in front of the horse than what's in back of the cart. I get this way every year in the Fall and coincidentally its because my birthday is in the Fall. Over the course of the last few weeks I've been walking around thinking...46? Really! 46? You've got to be kidding me! 46? I just turned 21! It blows my mind and as I was discussing this with a co-worker today. It isn't quite as easy to watch the 27-Time Defending World Champion Yankees win a playoff game in the wee hours of the morning and then get up nice and early to start work. I did it, mind you, but I was a step slow. Besides, I watched the game, laying on a pillow - with the sound off because the announcers suck - and not putting forth any sort of effort at all. How did I get tired? Why did I wake up feeling worn out? I'm getting old...or I already got old. "You're still a baby," my 55-year old co-worker said. "I'd kill t...

When I say the name Faisal Shahzad what do you think? Not much, right? Well, he's the guy who tried to leave a car bomb in Times Square in an effort to kill as many Americans as he could. He messed up the recipe for the bomb and then locked his keys in the car. Sounds like a Muslim Gilligan. Yesterday he was sentenced to life in prison and he had a lot to say. He explained why he hates you and me and every other American. He explained that W started the war and that it would be years and years until its over. Well, it's over for you, Faisal. Enjoy meeting your new cellmates and please let them know about your anti-America stance. See how it goes for you. The other thing that really galls me as a former bleeding heart liberal (don't get concerned or excited, I will never be a right-wing conservative) is that we never once hear a condemnation of these Muslim extremists actions by Muslim leaders. As Americans we are supposed to be opened-minded about who steps foot into our me...

It's hard to think about October without considering that I will be staying up late a few times a week, or that I'll be swearing at Joe Buck and Tim McCarver as they spew their crazy crap and anti-Yankee venom. I really, really, really dislike those two gentlemen as announcers. Yes - the 27-time World Champion Yankees are staggering into the playoffs in an attempt to defend the fact that they kicked the crap out of the Phillies last year. Can they do it again? Well, I don't know, but as a Yankee fan my job is too act cocksure of myself, irritate everyone, and annoyingly remind everyone that this is the 27-Time Defending World Champion Yankees that we are talking about. But, I am also a little down this time of year, as well, because the two people I talked about baseball the most are watching from the best seats in the house - hopefully with their arms around each other, and with a beer in their hands. It's funny, but Michael Kay on the Yankee network played a videotape...

I remember playing in an 8th grade basketball game. My team and I were playing Eden and we were woefully over-matched. The final score of the game was about 75 to 22. I recall looking at the clock in the last quarter and thinking that 7 minutes left was never going to pass. I also remember shooting about 1 for 10 in the game, including a couple of long, rainbow, air balls. My coach met me at the bench as the game came to a close. "You're hapless!" he said. "I'm hapless! We're all hapless!" I remember laughing. Hapless - is a great word. I felt hapless that afternoon, and unfortunately I've felt hapless many more times in my life, in a wide variety of venues. Looking at a car engine of a flat tire - I'm hapless. Trying to hammer a nail or turn a screw - fairly hapless. Winning a discussion with my beautiful wife - very hapless. Trying to talk sense into my kids about Buffalo sports teams - undeniably hapless. Of course, this all comes to mind bec...

Just finished reading about a Michigan mother who faked her little boy's cancer so that she could collect gifts and donations in regard to his treatment. Allegedly. The woman went so far as to shave the 12-year-old's head, and feed him opiates so that he'd feel lethargic. She was nice enough to let him play with the X-Box that someone gave him because they felt sorry for all he was going through. Just shocking, isn't it? There are so many warped stories and a woman like this attacks all sensibilities, doesn't she? How much money would it take to make you act in such a manner? Thankfully, the kid was removed from the woman's home, but you know what she supposedly told the people who knew her? Yeah, she explained that the child died and that she needed more donations so that she could pay for his funeral and burial! I don't know exactly how you get a straight ticket to hell, but that is certainly a good start. A few years ago I read about a guy who did the sam...

John Denver. Great Singer. Great Song. I'm sorry. It's cold here in the city It always seems that way And I've been thinking about you Almost every day Thinking about the good times Thinking about the rain Thinking about how bad it feels Alone again I'm sorry for the way things are in China I'm sorry things ain't what they used to be But more than anything else, I'm sorry for myself Cause you're not here with me. Our friends all ask about you I say you're doing fine I expect to hear from you almost anytime But they all know I'm crying That I can't sleep at night They all know I'm dying Down deep inside I'm sorry for all the lies I told you I'm sorry for the things I didn't say But more than anything else, I'm sorry for myself I can't believe you went away I'm sorry if I took some things for granted I'm sorry for the chains I put on you But more than anything else, I'm sorry for myself for living without you

Lesson from a Donkey One day a farmer's donkey fell down into an old, dry well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, totally frustrated, he decided the animal was old, the well to deep and as it needed to be covered up anyway it just wasn't worth it to continue to try to retrieve the donkey. So after explaining his plight to his neighbors the farmer asked them to come over and help him take care of the unique situation. Sympathetic to his dilemma they all grabbed their shovel and began to pitch dirt into the deep well. At first the donkey, when he realized what was happening, brayed horribly. It was quite upsetting to listen to...then to everyone's amazement he quieted down. A few hours later, for this was a very deep well, the farmer finally looked into its depths. What he saw astonished him! Wth each shovel of dirt that was pitched over the well's wall it fell on the donkey's back. The donkey realized t...

In a complete 180, I found myself driving home this afternoon in a sky that was alive with the brilliant sunshine of a bright sun. There were just enough clouds to give me a break now and again, but the orange circle was a welcome sight, even if I had to move my visor about thirty times. As I attacked the miles, I went to the world's second greatest invention (the I-Pod) so that I could listen to the world's greatest invention (Rock and Roll). I only had one rule - it had to be a loud song that had wailing guitars, banging drums, and loud vocals. I know it was a Springsteen song that got me going - Real World - but then on to Mellencamp - Crumblin' Down - through Aldo Nova's Fantasy - The Stones - Little T&A and Tumbling Dice - McCartney with Band on the Run - Don Henley - The Boys of Summer . The Who with Bargain . Loud, louder, loudest. The speakers were shaking. I can never turn it all the way up with Kathy and the boys in the car. I was a moving, shaking, rattl...