Thoughts of a Common Man

Yesterday, in between gushing over the photos of the Royal Wedding, I considered the people who do the weather on television. It seems that they bother me. And by the way, I couldn't give two poops about Kate and William. Didn't we gush over Diana and that dork too? Anyhow, let's check in with the meterologist.... First off, meterologist . Are you kidding me? You know what I want from my weatherman? Two freaking words: Either, "It sucks," or "It's good." That's it. I don't need the playful banter between the anchor and the weather person as though the rain is the fault of the guy or gal standing in front of the map. Then he/she banters back about how it's not his fault, and they all laugh. Every freaking newscast. Then if it's nice, the weather person takes credit. "Look at all the sunshine I brought you!" "Keep it coming!" And the maps. They tell me about the fact that they have the lastest technology and that I s...

...I'll see you further on up the road. KATRINA’S SUN DIAL BY HENRY VAN DYKE Time is too slow for those who wait, Too swift for those who fear, Too long for those who grieve, Too short for those who rejoice, But for those who love, time is eternity. Hours fly, flowers die, New days, new ways pass by, Love stays.

Each night as I drift off to sleep I am suddenly wide awake as the latest bout of falling is vivid in my mind. Over the last couple of weeks, I've fallen off bridges into the water below. I've taken a header into a basement level through broken boards, and I've fallen off the roof while cleaning the gutters. Little chance of that happening. Of course, I am on a lot of construction sites, and falls are the leading cause of serious accidents, and one of my clients had a good guy fall recently, so I wondered. What can it all mean? I woke last night and went straight to Google. What the hell would we do without Google. I entered "Dreams" and "Falling" and a mere second later my screen was filled. Let me tell you, I got problems. Falling is probably the most common dream of mankind. Every person who has ever lived and every person who will ever live has dreamed of falling. Falling can have a symbolic or even literal significance, often indicating a feeling th...

I was born 23 miles south of Buffalo in a small town. I still love going back to North Collins to move around in the same neighborhoods where I grew up. I pass homes and think of old friends and fun nights as I grew to maturity - which is a debatable subject, of course. I went to college in another state. Pennsylvania. I liked it, but I returned to Buffalo. I went to California for a long stretch in '83. I liked it, but returned to Buffalo. I went back to California in '87. I liked it, but returned to Buffalo. I lived in Connecticut in '88. I liked it, but returned to Buffalo. I moved to Maryland the day after the Bills lost the first of four straight Super Bowls. I liked Baltimore, but I moved back to Buffalo. Are you getting the drift? I rather enjoy busting on people around here for their love of the Bills and Sabres because those teams are caught like a hamster in a wheel. A lot of motion, but not really getting anywhere. And what I hate most of all is blind faith in so...

Was Obama born in the United States? Did he get good grades At Columbia and Harvard? Where did his money come from? Should we allow gay marriage? What about abortion? Are we getting rid of that? The gas prices are too high. The housing market blows. Fat cats are getting big bonuses. There are too many poor people. Middle class kids can't afford college. Don't worry! The Donald is coming! Can this be for real? Donald Trump wants to be president? Isn't he of a sordid past? You want to question ethics, Trump and his women make Clinton look like a choirboy, don't they? A perfect ticket might be Trump-Palin. Wouldn't that be interesting? I know that wise-ass bloggers and professional comedians would love that. I don't hate the Donald. I think he's sort of a blowhard, and I'm not sure how bright he is as far as running the country goes, but he has enough hair, doesn't he? How many bald president's have we had? Ford was certainly bald, but he wasn't...

The City of Buffalo and all of the surrounding communities is going to come to a grinding halt on Tuesday night at 7:30. The City of Philadelphia and the followers of the Flyers are going to be in the same anxious state. I am going to be a casual observer. More likely than not I will be watching a lot of the Yankee game that night. Now it's not that I don't care. My boys are all fired up. I should be rooting hard for them. Buffalo needs a resounding victory one of these years because life hasn't always gone swimmingly here. Taxes are high. People work really hard here. The guys on the Sabres seem like decent, hardworking men. That sport is unbelievably rough. My main problem about not getting caught up in it is that hockey seems a tad tedious to me these days. I used to love the beauty of the sport, but there's so much clutching and grabbing that the beauty of it all seems gone. I was never a guy who cheered for the fighting. I get it. I just never liked it. I used to l...

Happy Easter! Hoppy Easter! as my Dad used to say. I don't get the Easter Bunny stuff. Never did. Someone once explained the legend to me, but even as a kid, I kind of found the whole concept sort of weird. A big bunny hopping down a trail with eggs and candy in a basket. I was about five years old when I might have mentioned, "Give me a freaking break here with that garbage." I've always been a tad skeptical. Still one of the other things that I've always been familiar with is the true story of Easter. Jesus was nailed to a cross on Good Friday - Why the hell is it called "Good" Friday? I mean Jesus was strung up and we can't have a steak. What's so good about it? Then everyone kind of gathered wake-style on Saturday to get over the shock...and then Jesus rose from the dead on Sunday. Was there a rabbit near by? They always say three days after death He rose to life. Now my math may be wrong but Friday to Sunday is only two days, right? Friday-t...

...my dear Aunt Carolyn. Over the last couple of years I've sort of redefined what I think and believe about death. I knew one thing, of course, that it comes for us all, but I've had to rethink a lot of other items. It's one of those, 'the more I know, the less I understand' sort of things. But to my wonderful extended family: 1). You will never tire of the stories of craziness, hard work, love, food, love, more food, more craziness, and more hard work. Aunt Carolyn was a Fuzzy matriarch after all. Even writing this blog I am reminded of a story about Dad. We were driving to a job in California when the news informed us of a particularly gruesome murder. A man had been dismembered and stuffed in garbage cans. I sat there with my mouth agape as the details of the crime reached my ears. "Poor bastard," Dad said. Then he did the sign of the cross. "May he rest in pieces." Those are the crazy things that will pop into your head a lot more often than...

Whenever I think of Good Friday a few things come to my mind. First and foremost I recall the steak and eggs breakfast that my brother Jim served up for the family. Think scrambled eggs with onions, tomatoes, cheese, and generous cubes of sirloin all chopped up, and portioned out with toast. Jim, Jeff, John and I were chowing down when Mom settled in her chair and accepted a plate. Three minutes in, she was pissed. "It's Good Friday! We aren't supposed to be eating meat!" Mom pushed her plate away. More for us. We finished it. If we were going to hell for it, we would be making the trip with full stomachs. And Easter was all about the Catholic church. From Palm Sunday with the little one-act play about the betrayal of Jesus, through Holy Week, and the Stations of the Cross on Friday...we logged some serious church time. Of course I was a dedicated altar boy for a lot of years (insert your favorite priest joke here) and it was a truly spiritual experience. I can clearl...

I was entering a supermarket when a guy approached me. "Want something to read?" He asked. He hand me a pamphlet that said: Heaven or Hell, Which Road Are You Choosing? I stuffed the pamphlet in my pocket and walked away before he could engage me in conversation. Later that night I laid in bed, turning over channels on the television, knowing that I was close to sleep, but looking for a reason to stay awake. I came across a Barbara Walters interview show about Prince William and his upcoming wedding with "a commoner". That aggravated me. A commoner. If there's anything I hate more in life is snooty people I don't know what that might be. I can't imagine what it might be like to live in a country where you have to kiss the royal ass of a group of people. Commoners! They say the word as if they are speaking of garbage. So, this commoner got to thinking about royalty, and heaven and hell, and other people making snap decisions on how I should be living my l...

So I'm having a dream the other night. The images were real clear. Aren't dreams strange? Sometimes we can only remember little pieces, and other times the dialogue, the feelings, and even the tone are undeniably clear. Then we are left to try and grasp the meaning. Without further ado, here's the dream: I'm sitting in the living room with the boys and my beautiful wife enters with a tall, young guy who can walk across the room without going, "oww, oww, oww." "Who's that guy?" I ask. "The Yankees are winning," I inform. "Who's pitching?" Kathy asks, ignoring my initial question. "Garcia," I say as the guy sits next to me and nods. Kathy is buzzing around the kitchen. The boys are a tad curious and I know something is awry when my beautiful wife delivers a beer to the guy sitting on my left. "Thanks babe," the guy says and my wife leans in and gives him a quick kiss. Then she glances at me. "Did I t...

Legend has it that on Easter 1991 my Aunt Carolyn handed me a platter of scrambled eggs. It looked like a big pile of eggs, but I was going to do my best to be a good guest. I ate them. There were a dozen eggs on the plate. They were supposed to be for everyone. Ah well. That's not why I'm writing about Aunt Carolyn today. I'm writing about her because she has been moved from the hospital to her home so that she can spend the last few days of her life with her wonderful family. I'm writing because I'm sad again. Sad that our tight-family is about to lose another valued member. As soon as I finished the eggs that Easter morning, I watched Aunt Carolyn move around the kitchen, getting ready to prepare the feast for every invited guest and a few that just happened by. My Aunt is just like my Grandma and my Dad...everyone who walks thru the door gets fed. "I have to peal twenty pounds of potatoes for these pigs," Aunt Carolyn said. I grabbed a pealer and we st...

Now that's funny...

For years we listened to the cast of Friends doing the "Oh....My...God!" Expression everytime something weird happened. Lately there's the absolutely annoying show, "How I Met Your Mother" and the timeless, "Wait for it". I cringe every single time I hear that one. Maybe because I hate the show so much. It's senseless as far as I can tell. Of course, there is my all-time cringe-bringing expression, "Okie-Dokie" but I don't have a say in stopping that one anymore. My wife and mother-in-law say it constantly to one another. You haven't lived until you hear them go through their little routine. "Oakie-Dokie?" My mother-in-law will ask. "Oakie-Dokie!" my wife will respond. And I sit there, gritting my teeth. Yet it has gotten even worse around the house lately because my beautiful wife has also picked up another dizzying expression and the kids have joined me in hating this one: "Anywho-ha," she says. I...

So many days in my life I've jumped out of bed as if shot out of a cannon. Today, I got nothing. Our hot water tank went and as I speak a new one is being installed. I couldn't have told you where the old one is located. That's maintenance's department. All I know is that I can't shower. I can't really function without a shower. The Yankees kept hitting into double plays last night. A double play is a real killer in baseball. As a fan of a team you get pumped up when a runner is on to start an inning. You start thinking about the possibilities like a two-run homer or a ball in the gap and when you see that hot shot directly at short, your heart sinks. Sort of like life. I'm gonna' do this, and this and that, and then you hit the sharp grounder to short and God doubles you up. I've developed a small lump of pain about an inch below my knee. Not sure what to think of it, and its pretty quiet right now, but I called the doctor yesterday afternoon and wa...

I see that Kobe Bryant was fined $100,000 for a gay slur in which he called the ref a "bleeping pack of cigarettes in England." After the game Kobe didn't express a lot of remorse saying that he didn't really mean it and all things are fair in the heat of battle. I suppose. We've all said things that we didn't mean, but we didn't have a camera on us at the time. Still the language is something that needs to be watched. Guys always refer to something as gay, or retarded. There are people out there who may take offense for sure. A hundred grand to him is only a nickel to us anyways. He's a great player though. Sports in the country is also way too important to everyone, if you ask me. I watch a ton of sports and get caught up in it as well as the next guy, but when your local newspaper has a column about school budgets being cut right next to the demands of the owner of the NFL team it can be a tad disconcerting. The Bills owner demanded interest on the ...

There is an ongoing criminal trial here in Western New York. It's a story of a gruesome murder that was preceded by torture, sodomy, abuse, and indifference. It all happened in the small town where I grew up...North Collins...a town where two police officers were murdered. A town of a few thousand people. A close-knit community by all accounts where murder and torture are hardly considered...until it happens. I nearly threw up when I watched the court testimony on the evening news. The mentally-deficient girl who was murdered was sexually abused by her two brothers. She was tied to a chair through the day, and tied to a different, 'slightly more comfortable' chair for her night of sleep. She was scalded with hot water and her teeth were pulled because she had a habit of grinding them. Her mother, the obviously mentally-deficient mother, was convicted of the murder. I'd seen the woman in town through the years. Thankfully I never spoke to her. The one brother, who is me...

There was an old Night Ranger song (remember them) that went like this: Four in the morning came without a warning. Not exactly Edgar Allan Poe, but the clock just changed to 4:00 and my plans for the day are going to have to change. You see, I've been working all along with the recovering knee, but it barked so loudly an hour ago that I woke up, checked the baseball box scores and put on TBS where Ben Stiller is doing dumb things in a senseless movie. So, I'm wide awake...thinking about changing my plans for the day. The first thing I thought about was the days gone by when four in the morning came without a warning. The good old days when I was hanging with buddies, drinking beer, laughing, and then stumbling home. At the age of 20 we all could do things like that then get up and go to work. By noon we were talking about going out again. Youth is surely wasted on the young. This morning, with the rain tapping on the eaves I'm thinking of all sorts of things. Mostly I'...

The above photo shows Craig Ramsey's Stanley Cup ring on my wife's finger. Rammer got the ring when he wasn't a member of the Sabres organization. Game 1 - Philadelphia 2 Buffalo 1 A tight-checking game turns in Philly's favor with exactly 5 minutes left when a fluttering shot from the blue line eludes Ryan Miller and ends up on the top shelf where the freaking cookies are hidden. After the game Miller explains, "Our defensemen can't allow them to have clear shots at me. I'm the greatest goalie in the world, but I can't stop those knuckleballs. They're tricky." Lindy Ruff adds that the Sabres have to play for 60 minutes. Jason Pominville says that they only came to Philly to win one anyway. Game 2 - Buffalo 4 Philly 3 - Series Tied 1-1 Nathan Gerbe scores all four goals and wonders where his teammates Vanek and Connelly have gone. "I miss them," he says. A laugher of a game by the Sabres was nail-biting at the end because Ryan Miller ...

It's funny how things go. I recall the days of high school that went by so long ago. There was an endless struggle to try and mix with the cool kids, the ones who controlled whether or not you could hang with the pretty girls and the ones who everyone sort of looked up to. I like charting the progress of the so-called in crowd from my high school days and noting who is doing well and who is battling life, and sort of losing. Today on Facebook I saw a mention of how one of the cute, in-crowd girls accepted a friendship with a guy who was a couple of rungs below me on the dork chart. (And let me tell you, I was a couple of rungs short of the real cool people because I didn't get high, or skip school, or get thrown out of class for being disrespectful). Anyway, I was sort of caught short of breath when I noticed that the good-looking girl accepted the branch of friendship extended by the totally dorky guy. She wouldn't have spit on the poor bastard in high school and now, thro...

I finished the Keith Richards book in little more than a day. It was one of those books that captures you, holds your attention and takes over for the time you're devouring it. The Stones were a mess and Richards was the main offender, but he didn't have his blood changed, and it's not true that he snorted his father's ashes. Still, this is about the books that were scattered all over my room. They were stuffed into a cabinet that overflowed. "Why don't you throw them out?" My wife asked. I recall my mother and father having the same discussion. My mother has books all over the big house on the hill. My father never read a book cover-to-cover as far as I know. He used to tell me that he "scanned" my books, but not sure he ever finished one. That's okay, it wasn't his thing. And people who read every night before bed understand the passion involved. I believe that I read 100 books a year. One after another. Fiction to non-fiction and there...

So, catching up on the elusive quest to return to normal acitivity. I got up and went to 4 different work-related activities this week. Two six-hour days were the highlight, but my leg was a piece of granite afterwards and during those days, I only sat in a chair! So, not whining, but definitely still not ready for prime time. This blog is about doing the absolute minimum to meet my duties and laying in bed, next to my dog, Melky, the rest of the time. Melky and I have had a number of long conversations over the last ten days, and while they are rather one-sided, we have reached an understanding. Melky has all that she needs. There is a big window that overlooks our street, and she gazes out it when she doesn't feel like sleeping. As she looks out at the world, she is aggravated by the following things (in no particular order): 1). Squirrels 2). Birds 3). Mothers pushing strollers 4). other neighborhood dogs 5). Deer - she's seen two in ten days. 6). Cars pulling into the drive...

Manny Ramirez may have been the greatest right-handed hitting outfielder I ever saw. When he was on the Indians they knocked the Yankees out of the playoffs in '97. I grew to hate him. Then he went to the Sux. My hatred grew, but I respected the hell out of him as a hitter. With Ortiz, I thought they were the best one-two punch in the sport. I was also suspicious. I was told they were clean. They beat the Yanks in '04 and finally won the World Series. I wasn't happy, but I live in a town where titles are hard to come by and the stories about people from New England going to their father's grave sites to tell them about the win sort of struck a chord. "It's 26 to 5," I would say. "Good for them." Then they won another one and my hate for Manny and Ortiz grew, but hey, you had to respect them, right? They were at the top of their game. Turns out they were frauds. Certainly not the only frauds in the game. There were drug cheats on every team. Even ...

So they are talking about a government shutdown. Blah, blah, blah...they can't get along. He said this...she said that...I'm going to take my ball and go home. I say, shut it the hell down! Do it for long enough so that we can save a little money on the goofy bastards who work for the government and do about 2 hours work in every 8 hour day. I say, let them enjoy a nice, long lay-off like the poor people in the country have had to suck on for the last whatever, three years? Lay 'em all off. Congresmmen, senators, press secretaries, vice-president, president. Let 'em all stand in a line for cheese that they buy with their food stamps. Better yet, make them get real jobs. I know a bunch of construction companies where they could actually get their hands dirty and understand what it means to do back-breaking work. If they actually had to work a couple of weeks perhaps they'd go back and do their jobs with some sense of what it takes all of us to do ours. I read a great...

I'm reading Keith Richards autobiography called Life. I was a little hesitant to read it because the Stones are my second favorite rock and roll act...and on some days they are my favorite. I didn't want to hear about how weird they were, or are. Of course, they are nothing at all like me. They are English. I'm American. They were hard-core druggies, and despite the last week filled with hydrocodene, I'm not. They are world famous billionaires...I have trouble getting a bottle of water delivered to my resting spot in my house. So we are different. Still I'm so curious. How did Brian Jones die? Do Keith and Mick really hate each other? Did Keith really have his blood changed out due to excessive drugs as we have our teeth cleaned? Did Mick really sleep with half the people he was supposed to have slept with? So far, about a quarter of the way through the book I am pleasantly surprised. Keith is talking about his one true love...not all the women...not the money...not...

Every day over the course of the last week I've watched Regis and Kelly from 9 am to 10 am. I don't believe that I ever saw the show more than once leading to this week. While Kelly Ripa is no Kathy Fazzolari, she's certainly an attractive, funny woman, and lately I've started looking forward to catching up with her daily antics. Today they debuted a wax figure of her on the show and I found myself wondering how I could get the lifestyle wax figure into our home. Cut to the early afternoon. I had visited a job meeting and was preparing my ice pack as Kathy began preparing dinner. Fried potatoes and cube steaks. Very nice. We began a conversation as I filled a couple of bags with ice, and I said, "Come on upstairs for a minute, we can continue the conversation." I just wanted to lie down. Moments later, we were talking about the day when Sam called out. "Something's burning here!" I thought about the cube steak turning into a piece of leather. Sti...

I have reached the everything sucks stage in my surgery recoup. Let's go through the paces together, huh? I really had no idea what to expect the day after surgery. Being that I am extremely slow-minded, I thought I'd miss one day and hobble through the rest of last week. As discussed here, just plain dumb. So, I rested. Four days of ice, elevate, Fresh Prince, baseball, hockey, NCAA, more baseball. I got so sick of sports at one point that I watched a Lifetime movie about a real sinister guy who preys on the love of a young girl...it was good. I was shouting at the screen. Through it all, Melky has been by my side. Threatening anyone who comes to visit my room with immediate expulsion. So, I was ready to go yesterday morning. Out of bed early and off to a work gig. I promised the nurse (Kathy) I'd do one visit and come back home. In the back of my mind, I thought I'd sneak in two, perhaps three visits. Halfway through the first meeting, I knew I was done. The leg was l...

I just put on a pair of pants. Woo-hoo! I'm going off to work today for a little while. Now, mind you, it's against my nurse's orders, but not necessarily against my docs. I don't know for sure because I'm afraid to ask him. Yet I'm playing it smart, folks because I'm healing. When the body breaks down, even for a little while, there is certainly a rebirth in the fact that it builds back up. Don't you feel great when the cold breaks up and you start eating food again, mere days after the time when the idea of food repulsed you? The swelling has gone down. There is more mobility in the leg to be sure, but the pain has not yet left the building. That will come, though, and to be honest I've grown used to it a litle. We've become buddies. Yet healing isn't confined to the physical being of a person. I've been down for a few days now and the mental drain of living also takes some getting used to. The rest has helped me there as well. For two ...

Lets see what's on the tube, shall we? The new Arthur movie doesn't look great to me. I like Russell Brand, but no one will ever beat Dudley Moore in that role. Who didn't love that movie? Even Liza Minelli looked good then. Remember when his mother told him: Arthur grow-up!...Dudley Moore, playing a great drunk: That's easy for you to say, you don't have a closet full of small suits. Hopefully, its all right. Can't see why they don't make new movies about new characters...watch a romantic comedy...same damn plot line every time. Just saw Dick Clark on Bloopers as I was passing through. He was about 50 in the show that was on. It was hard to tell though because he always seemed to be the same age. Not anymore. His annual appearance on the New Year's Eve show is disconcerting. His countdown makes you feel like taking your own life rather than celebrating getting a year closer to your own demise. Can't someone put a stop to Dick making appearances? I w...

Although I fancy myself as a helluva' thinker, I must admit that I really haven't figured out a whole hell of lot in the past few days. Let's assess the scene: it's the middle of the night, although time is irrelevant. I'm watching Married with Children, coming off a day when I saw three baseball games and at least four episodes of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. I had figured that I could get the notebook out and jot down some thoughts for writing purposes, but "Oh no, I gotta' pee," won't make much in the way of reading. But I am thinking of what I've been missing: work, for instance. I have worked for so many years, and with a true dedication that I feel as if I am letting down the people who pay me. I need to reconcile that as I will be better in the long run, but it bothers me. Secondly, I am missing out on the family dynamic. Evidently I'm not thrilling enough to just hang with. Other than Melky, no one seems all that fired up about watc...

I have a buddy who keeps texting me: Mind over Matter when it comes to my throbbing, unbendable leg. It may be because I was ignorant enough to say that to him once. There are people who suffer in pain, in silence, every day. This post is for them. To the elderly, the ill, the chronic suffering, its all for you. Because its awful. And its especially disconcerting right now, because its my leg. And since I'm a writer, and since my pain tolerance isn't what I believed it to be, and since mind over matter is purely a moronic statement, I will not suffer in silence. Yet there is certainly a lesson here, a lesson about taking things for granted and not appreciating the gifts that are bestowed upon us. You see, I always, always fall asleep by turning on my stomach. I almost had to give that up because I developed a fear of heights, but that's another story. Now, for two whole nights, I can't turn on my little belly to sleep. I have to start on my back, and despite waking up l...