Thoughts of a Common Man

Since reading Keith Richards book I spent a lot of time downloading Stones songs. That was a month ago...now I'm spending time listening to them. All day long I've been singing one verse over and over. Imagine Mick singing: "You'll never find that perfect love that you read about, that you dream about." On the day of my wedding anniversary, I can't argue with Mick. He's right. The sort of love that people dream about when they're young certainly doesn't exist. Trying to understand love at 20 years old is sort of ridiculous as well. But love certainly does exist...and perfect love can be realized even though it won't be quite as easy as they make it look in the romantic comedies, or the fairy tale princess stories. You know what is perfect love? 1). Being able to depend upon the other person when your shit is all messed up. 2). Getting back to the table after visiting the restroom to find that your pasta has arrived and that your wife already as...

Tomorrow is the anniversary of when my brother Jeff stood in front of the people who gathered together to share our wedding and said that the number one thing that Cliff said on his wedding day was actually first said by Ex-Washington DC Mayor Marion Berry: "The bitch set me up...the G.D. bitch set me up." I had 7 best men for that event. I should have had 12. Anyway, my beautiful wife and I go on 5-year deals in our marriage. We are currently entering the walk year on this deal and we have not yet discussed the re-up. Of course, I'm like Jeter on this new deal. He had to re-sign with the Yankees. Where else would he play? It was all only a matter of if the Yankees still wanted him. I have a feeling we'll get the deal done. Because it's been an incredible happy and profoundly sad ride and we are still on the boat, riding out the storms. And seriously, who the hell else would have me? Over the weekend we have been watching the old television show "My So Called...

We petitioned a golfer that was lurking in the parking lot to take a photo of us after our round. The guy made a joke about wondering where the wide lens button was. I couldn't have possibly cared less. On hole one, I hit the ball straight down the center. I'd been concerned about the first swing. It had been so long since I played. And the sun was on my face, and my buddies were relaxed and enjoying the day as well. As each hole ended, I just looked forward to the next one. I didn't care a lick about a missed shot or the fact that it took me two hits to get out of a sand strap on a ridiculously easy par 3. I hit the ball well. I had a big fat fried bolgona sandwich at the turn and hit it even better on the back 9. The knee is still swollen, but its like that after work too, and today was so much better than work. By the end of the round I was already thinking about the next chance I'd have to get out there again. It seems as though I spend so much time wishing I were s...

A long time ago, in a land far away, my buddies and I drank all through the evenings and into the morning hours, playing music loud, shooting pool, laughing, fighting, arguing, and laughing some more. We were in college, of course, and trying hard to distinguish ourselves as fine adults. We didn't make a lot of headway. Yet in college, very often, there are characters who really don't have much of a chance and you kind of see it when they come through the door, hooting and hollering. There was a short, little, funny guy who hung around us a lot in our senior year. To say he was a little off would be like saying George Dubya was a bad speechmaker. His name was Phil, so naturally we called him Phil Harmonic. One morning Phil was stumbling through the streets of Erie after an all-night party...some "old" woman (she was in her 40's) began to lecture Phil about the dangers of booze as she swept out her driveway. Phil arrived at our door, that morning, with the broom th...

Big News from here...okey-dokey, or okie-dokie, or oakie-dokie...has been upended by the new phrase that drives me absolutely crazy... "Do You Know What I'm Saying?" I was listening to Howard yesterday and some guy named Flavor Flav (Me doubts that it is his God-Given name) was being interviewed about something yesterday. I'm not quite sure what Mr. Flav does, but it hardly matters because I didn't learn a damn thing about him because all of his sentences started with a "Woo-Hoo, Howard," and ended with the phrase, "You know what I'm saying?" I finally got tired of what he was saying and flipped the station to the all baseball, all day channel. Advertisement: Get Sirius radio...it's the best. Anyway, it seems that all the cRAPPERS, who put out cRAP music wonder if we know what it is that they are saying, and it drives me up the freaking wall. When you can count someone saying the same thing over and over and over again in a 3 minute int...

Well, well, well...Matt is 18 today. Happy Birthday. I can distinctly recall the first time I laid eyes on him and the quiet confidence that he seemed to carry. Even as a child, he was too proud to let you see him sweat and was easily the calmest, sharpest, well-behaved kid you'd ever seen. He never truly was a baby...and it always caught me off-guard. That's why it was so aggravating when he pooped his pants at the age of four and with his mother far away, pushed me into parent duty. I wanted to kill him. Through his teenage years, he's been a dream to have around the house. Never trouble, always responsible, usually in a pretty good mood. A lot of parents don't say that as their son turns 18. I can. Matt is a great kid with a lot going for him. And he still has the quiet confidence and an eternal optimism that drives me crazy. He picked the Bills to go 12 and 4 last year. If you ran into him today he'd tell you that the last-place Oakland A's are going to shoc...

To my best friend, Pat...hope the knee replacement surgery goes well and that you aren't as big a baby as me! I've always loved this weekend coming up. Memorial Day has always been symbolic of things starting anew and really sort of signals the start of decent weather in these parts. I'm hoping that the same holds true. I've always associated Memorial Day with cleaning up the yard, planting the garden and hitting the ground running as summer arrives. So, I'm getting that feeling again. And its impossible to think of the weekend and not recall wonderful Memorial Day celebrations on the big house on the hill. We grew up knowing that planting the garden was going to be an all-day event and sometimes a two day event. Everyone chipped in and worked hard, and following the dirt, the plants, the bitterness and the bitching there were ribs and chicken and beer and laughs, and laughs, and laughs. I thought of all of this yesterday as I pulled weeds, cleaned up dead leaves, a...

The doc gave me a cortisone shot today and I shot a little blood across the floor when the needle hit. He was panic-stricken. "Thank God my AIDS is in remission," I said. His eyes almost popped out of his head. Three weeks prior to that the therapist was examining the knee. She was kneeling on the floor as my legs dangled. She measured the knee and then traced her fingers on my thighs in an effort to see if the sensation was different in either leg. "Ain't my legs I'm feeling the sensation," I said. Her head sprung up like a jack-in-the-box. I always do it to convenience store clerks. "Can I help you?" they ask. "What do you have in mind?" I ask back in my best bedroom voice. Wouldn't it be nice if the best lines always popped into our heads at the perfect time? I love shocking people with quick lines and it usually lightens the mood. I was having lunch with a good friend of mine who is about 300 pounds and stands about 6'5"....

Man, who's disappointed that the world didn't go up in a blaze of glory on Saturday? I know that the Grape Apes got out and golfed without me this weekend so I know they were happy that it didn't end. And I had pasta yesterday and the Yanks beat the hapless Mets, so I did okay. But, I'm getting ready for the work week, and as you slip on the clothes and think of the next ten or twelve hours there's a sneaky little thought in the back of your mind...it might have been to my advantage, right? Last week as I drove I listened to an author...Vincent something or other...he was the lawyer who prosecuted Manson. Anyway, he wrote a book that disputes the existence of God, calling himself an agnostic who does not lean one way or another, instead saying that its too much of a mystery to even argue. And yet he wrote a book about it arguing it his way. Which brings me to the heart of the matter. The idiot and his followers who proclaimed to have inside knowledge now look pretty...

I spent yesterday in Pittsburgh. I've always seemed to have a problem with Pittsburgh but its only because I went to college in Erie and I had to hear from all the people in Pittsburgh and how they bragged about actually winning Super Bowls when they got there. The Bills hadn't even made their first trip there when I was in college, so it was even worse. Back in those days, Pittsburgh also actually had a baseball team, but they've been kind of dismissed over the last twenty or so years. Last night I didn't get to go to the game, however, because it was freaking sold out! I go to Pittsburgh for the first time in 15 years and they sell out their first game in about that long. And I walked all around the place, listening to the sounds of the game and the roar of the crowd. I also went on the riverwalk from the Rivers Casino past Heinz Field and on down to PNC Park. Three bridges, the river, boats on the river, a city all lit up. And it pissed me off. Buffalo should have ni...

So, let's sum up: Randy Macho Man Savage stepped into his last Slim Jim. That's too bad. I loved wrestling when I was a kid...can still remember watching Ernie Ladd and the group with my brothers and sisters, and my boys dragged me and Uncle Chuckie to a few where we sat sipping beer waiting for the ring girls, pretending to be thrilled. RIP. We all gotta' go. Speaking of which, what time does the world end? If they are claiming to have the inside track on universal knowledge you'd think they'd be a little more specific. There might be a couple of things I want to do at the last minute. Seriously, the group of nut jobs advertised the end on the back of yesterday's USA Today. I defy you to make sense of that garbage. They sent the Unabomber to the cuckoo's nest with less evidence than that. Here's hoping that the sun stays out long enough to dry the yard so it can be mowed this weekend. Anyone know where we can buy a sickle? I swear, my grandfather had on...

So there's a group out there saying that the whole shebang is going to go up in flames on Saturday. Evidently there is some sort of proof available for this as the good people will be delivered to heaven while the rest of us are left here to be tortured and in turmoil for something like five months. So many angles to cover. First off, what if it's true? Also, pretend for a moment that you know it to be true. What would you do? Would I write one final blog? I've been thinking about it all day. What would I do? Golf? (It'll probably rain). Just spend time with my family, telling them how much I love them and how much they mean to me? That would last about six minutes and then the kids would be off to play Call of Duty one last time. Cook a big meal? Drink until I fall down? Rape, loot and pillage? I think it would kind of, sort of go the same way that you lived your life. If you are so inclined to rape and pillage then that's what you'll do. If you are prone to st...

So the above photo shows Arnold's mistress. That's not the real story, is it? Far be it of me to question anyone else's physical appearance, but is this what you were imagining when the story broke? My fascination with the story has little to do with Mildred's looks anyway. It's more about the day-to-day living as the maid was serving the married couple, knowing that she had given birth to Arnold's child. Maria: Where is that damn maid? Arnold: Leave her alone. Maria: Why did you give her another ten thousand dollar a week raise? Arnold: She's a good maid. Mildred enters the room just as the doorbell rings. Maria: Get the door, Mildred. Mildred: I don't feel like it. Arnold: I'll get it, don't fight, please. Mildred: I need another raise. Maria: Are you kidding me? Arnold: Is ten grand a week more enough? Maria: Who's at the door? A kid enters looking a lot like Mildred and a lot like Arnold. Arnold: The paperboy (shooting a glance at Mildred...

So they had a celebration in Chicago last night to talk about Oprah saying goodbye after years and years of her being the smartest person on the planet. Congrats on Stedman riding her off into the sunset. I find it funny that Stedman glorified her for being a person who brought her own lunch to work everyday. Way too many jokes wrote themselves there. Did she bring it in a U-Haul? She saved money on the staff of fifty that were hired to make it every day. But I am just kidding of course. Oprah has eternally struggled with her weight and her weight loss and through it all she's done her job with dignity and class. I would catch her show every now and again and would find it interesting. The only thing I really didn't like is how she passed herself off as an authority and others saw her that way. If she knew so much about weight loss, for instance, why is she still in need of two zip codes? How come all of her book club choices became best sellers and she didn't choose one of...

One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes contains a plot line in which George is let go from his job after sleeping with a janitor at his place of employment. In his exit interview he speaks the following line: If I'd have known that type of behavior was frowned upon in this establishment... This morning there were two such stories in the New York Post headline. The IMF guy, Strauss something or other is charged with coming out the shower naked and chasing the maid down the hall with his willie shaking before pouncing on her. Also it is coming down that the Governator had a child with a member of his household staff and thus the reason for Maria hitting the bricks after twenty-some years of marriage. Years ago it was a hotel girl that tore down poor Kobe Bryant who was looking for just a little bit of forced sex (allegedly) as he rehabbed his knee. While the idea of getting a little something from someone who cleans your freaking room is something that might happen - in Penthouse Foru...

As you can probably see the above coffee mugs are in pretty bad shape. They are the coffee mugs that belong to my beautiful wife and myself. My mug is the big blue one on the right. It used to be a Yankee mug, but there are no real marks left on it. I got the mug in 1991. The smaller mug on the left belongs to my wife. It used to have a hard shell that had the date of 1995 on it. It was a work mug that she has drank thousands of cups of coffee out of over the last 15 + years. What made me wonder about this? You see, the other day, I emptied the dishwasher and saw that the shell on her mug had finally given way. I had noticed the crack in it back around 2003. I had a surge of happiness as I believed that I had won the battle. No shell. Her mug was going to go to the garbage. I would win! And as you know, in any good marriage, its all about winning the shit that has no bearing on anything. I have the last traffic ticket between us, and she rubs it in my face. I am actually rooting for he...

Far be it from me to pick on a Yankee, but it turns out that Jorge asked out of the lineup so that he had a day to 'get his head straight.' Wow...can you imagine how many people would be calling in today if that were a legitimate excuse? I'm not sure where the drive to be available came from, but I do remember my father saying that a huge part of life is handled just by showing up. "Show up and be a Fuzzy," he told me. That advice has worked out good for me throughout the years, and it has forced me to show up even when I really, really wanted to stay at home. And I know I speak for my brothers and sisters when I say that such drive to be available has really sort of been a curse. For many, many years I never even considered taking a vacation day. Even lately, I've forced myself to do some of the stuff that takes a lot of doing even though I wasn't really physically ready for it. Yet there is a tremendous shift in the thinking of the rest of the country. H...

My beloved Yankees are reeling. Now that's great news to some of you, but I have a feeling that my 27-time World Champions will be back and you'll hear from me soon enough. Yet on the week when some kid called me 'old dude', I must admit that the struggles of Jorge Posada and to some extent, Derek Jeter, have been tough to watch. You see Jorge and Derek, along with Pettite and Rivera all landed on the team within weeks of each other in 1995. Should I go through the list of things they did together? Why not? It's fun for me and agony for all the Yankee haters out there. They won it all in 1996, 1998, 1999 and 2000 (when they beat the crap out of the Mets). They made it to the series in 2001 and 2003. They battled an obviously cheating Red Sox team in '04 and '07. They won it all again in '09 - a year when they had to win it all. In that time, I went from being a pathetic, young, lonely single man with a head of hair that was holding on, and something of a...

I wasn't even sure that I could find the West Falls Library and to be certain, I wasn't at all sure how a book signing might go there. As it turned out, it was a day to remember because of Gloria, Reita, Joanie and some true, blue Jeff fans. First off, I was shocked to see that people were waiting for me to arrive. As a matter of fact, that always surprises me and I hope it always does. Secondly, I was born in a small town and it does my heart good to visit small town life now and again. Yet what really thrilled me to no end is that the West Falls Library is a completely volunteer library that is kept open only through the hard work of the dedicated staff. As I signed books, I met a few people who love books, reading, and writing as well. One by one, I spoke with people from town, and the working staff. In between, there were plants being planted, and services being provided. It saddens me that in towns all over this great land libraries are closing because funds have to go to ...

My editor calls me a 'minimalist' writer as I rarely describe the characters I write about. I do this because I read Stephen King's awesome book on writing and he said that he likes to leave the character descriptions to the reader. I do too. It's easier as well, but I have to describe the kid I met yesterday. Let me set the scene. I headed into Wilson Farms and straight to the coffee island. The kid was in the center of the island dressed in bright red sweatpants and a Hawaiian tee-shirt. He had ear buds in and his I-pod was in the front pocket of the shirt. It was definitely cRAP music in his ear, and it was loud. He had a lot of facial hair but it looked like he'd attempted to shave it into some sort of work of art. Fine. To each his own. I wouldn't have met him unless we did that little struggle for space in where he moves left, I move left, he moves right, I move right thing. "Wanna dance?" I asked, as I always do. "What's that?" he ...

I had a dream last night that there is a lost CD out there of duets from Springsteen and Dean Martin. I find that to be an extremely interesting coupling because they are certainly favorites in the Fazzolari family. My Dad would have certainly been quick to point out who had the better voice while we would have been talking about songwriting and marathon concerts. But sadly, the Boss and Dean have never performed together. Yet speaking of music I am really tired of the sounds coming out of my kid's I-pods. Just awful stuff sung by young men who can't even spell the one name they have...and my kids compare it to Bruce. But there was severe panic around my i-pod a couple of days ago. I sat before my locked computer screen with music that wouldn't play. I was finally able to get the following message: RESTORE ORIGINAL FACTORY SETTINGS. In small print underneath there was a note that said that doing so would result in a loss of all data. Now I'm no genius but to me it appea...

I'm having fun at the recent string of book signings for Oh Brother! It's come full circle for me as a writer because when I was young I thought I'd eventually rule the world. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! There were a whole bunch of questions. Some about how long it takes to write something. Some about how much of an honor it was to share air with Jeff. (It was an unbelievable honor). Yet what was really interesting to me about the last two signings were the people! One of the readers, pictured above, had gathered notes from the book to form questions for the meeting. Teri showed me 10 pages of notes and it really did blow my mind! As I spoke with her, I felt the pain in her life as she shared mine. Back what seems to be a hundred years ago I got into the bookwriting business in an effort to just reach a few people with words I put together, one after another. Other writers had done it for me. I have always loved reading. To be a link in the chain of people who've published ...

Our downstairs shower, which I'm still aggravated about having to use on a routine basis, calls for a step into the tub and a quick duck of the head for entrance. I didn't get all of the steps down yesterday morning at about 5:30 and clunked my melon. Not a major injury, mind you, but an irritating moment for sure. It was one of the better things to happen all day long. You see, once you begin your day by conking your coconut, the mood sort of sours. I had begun my day, not with a prayer of hope, but a muttering of curse words. Lousy bastard. The next stop was the gas station...the home of the sixty dollar fill up. Sonuvabitch . Listened to the sports...the Yanks were off on Monday but the Red Sux won. Bitch! Thought about the leg...it's doing much better, thank you very much, and the limp is almost gone. Golf perhaps? Checked in with the Grape Apes. They're game. Set a tee time for Sunday. "It's supposed to rain," one of the Apes informed. *&$K!!! An...

The Gow School is once more honoring Jeff with an award in his memory! Hi Cliff, Hope this finds you well. I wanted to let you know that the class of 2011 has created the Class of 2011 Jeff Fazzolari Memorial Award. Here is the write-up that will be in the program: This award will be given by the Class of 2011 to honor that student, faculty or staff member who always exhibits a positive attitude and humor, no matter the circumstance. The award is given in memory of Jeff Fazzolari, Gow’s former Executive Chef and a cherished friend to The Gow School community. The Honors Convocation is scheduled for Friday, May 20th from 1:30-2:30 to see this award being presented in the Gow Center. Additionally, after speaking with Sterlinghouse about the book we are working hard to make sure that Jeff's story is carried further. Oh Brother! The Life and Times of Jeff Fazzolari is up for a few of the book awards across the country. We intend on winning! The goal of all of this, of course, is simple...

A couple of weeks ago the basement flooded. We were able to clear the water...Kathy did a lot of the work as I was fortunate to be out of town when it happened...and we were in decent shape. Except for a closet. On the way to somewhere else last week, I opened the closet and was hit with a pungent odor. There was only one kid home at the time, but I lofted a direct order in his direction. "Find out what stinks in the closet. Take your time and clean it good. It might take you awhile, but get a pail and some soap and get it cleaned up." The kid, who will remain nameless (Matt) gave me the answer I wanted, "Okay." Ten minutes later I saw said kid (Matt) in his room playing a video game. "I thought you were cleaning the closet." "I got rid of the smell," he said. "It was an old pair of wet shoes." I was on my way to somewhere else. If he solved the problem, fine. I wouldn't make an issue out of it. Cut to Saturday morning. I open the c...

...then He must love me. It's easy to try and place blame when things don't go right. Why would God do this to me? Why doesn't God help me through? There can't be a God! Well, Mother's Day for me is a reason to argue that faulty thinking. I think of my sisters...two women who've always had my back. Two wonderful mothers to be sure. Carrie, of course, is doing a helluva' job raising beautiful Paige and always entertaining Tony. She's doing it on her own, pretty much, and still she finds time to be a great friend, sister, and daughter. If God made her, then He must love me. Then there's Corinne and at first blush, she is not considered a mother in the traditional sense because Chuck is her only real child. (Sorry Chuckie). Yet, she may be the most motherly of all. She has taken great care of brothers, her little sister, her own mother, and a couple of dogs right now. I'm also convinced she breast-fed Lonesome when he was kicking around. Corinne mak...

So, my wife and I went to a Women & Children's Hospital of Buffalo fundraiser tonight at a comedy club on Sheridan Drive. The place was packed and it was wonderful to see a lot of the people who've become friends over the years in the Family-Centered Care Program. I was very relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that I told a truly great nurse, Barb, that I should do a set before the regular comics came on. We laughed and Barb mentioned that I'd probably do very well. A half an hour later, I was sitting with Kathy at a table near the stage when Rob Leederman, who owns the club and is the funnyman on 97 Rock. "I hear you want to do a set," he said. "Think you can?" Why the hell not? "I'll give you five minutes," he said. "I guarantee you that it'll be the longest five minutes of your life." It was uncomfortable for me to tell him that I wasn't concerned in the least. I'd always wanted to do it. This was my chance. I wouldn...

I've always been bigger in stature than my older brother John. When we were kids I was a lot taller and weighed a little more. Now I'm a little taller and weigh a lot more, but that's another story. As kids it was always kind of funny for those looking on to see the four-foot guy beating up the five-foot guy. The fights were a total mismatch and although I outweighed John by plenty and had a lot more reach, I was toast when we were battling, mostly for fun. His fun. I distinctly recall the various forms of torture that John would initiate. Sometimes he would sit on my arms, straddling my chest, my back flat on the floor, and he would begin to drool, until the spit hung above my face and I rolled around trying to break free. Then he would suck it back in, laughing as he did so. It's a common fighting technique employed by a bully all across the land. I survived, and he could have gathered all sorts of information had he wanted to. I bring this all up because of the great...

There's no way of knowing how a book signing appearance is going to go. Through the years I've learned to accept that the people who gather to meet you may see things through a different set of eyes and its best to go in with little in the way of expectations. The worst is when they don't show up at all! Oh Brother! I should have known that making appearances for the book about Jeff's life would be a complete and utter love fest. Today I met with a group of women at the Carnation Apartments through the Southtowns YMCA. My wife always refers to the women as my groupies. I tell you one thing, they always feed me! Many of the women had read the book a couple of times, and all had a list of highlighted items and questions. To a person, they exclaimed that they absolutely adored Jeff and the way that he lived his life. Me too. The questions of Jeff's life centered around love, faith, family, friends and laughter. In other words they heard the message loud and clear. And ...

The death of Bin Laden is a universally accepted good thing, right? Its still a little distressing to me on a few levels though. First, the dancing in the streets doesn't do much for me. Celebrating death and violence, even of a truly vile man, doesn't feel right. It had to be done. It was done for the peace of mind for those who lost loved ones. But it's not a football game. Whatever.... But I did listen to Rush Limbaugh yesterday. He bashed Obama all day because they knew where the compound was in October, but he didn't get it done until May. He also criticized Obama for taking credit for the death of Bin Laden. Who was Obama supposed to credit? Dubya? He also said we would have never heard of Bin Laden if it weren't for Clinton and Monica Lewinsky. Ridiculous. Someone has to get that guy off the air. He's a big, fat idiot. Yet what bugs me more than anything else are the reporters asking those who lost loved ones if the death of Bin Laden brings closure. That...

So, who woulda' thunk that Barrack Hussein Obama leading a raid that killed Osama Bin Laden would cause such excitement in our world. It's been a long time coming, right? Strangely when I saw the headline scroll across I didn't feel overly jubilant. War has never really excited me, but I'm certainly not liberal enough to say that Bin Laden deserved a day in court. Not my call, but a bullet through the head seems appropriate. Even more suffering wouldn't be out of hand. Good riddance. Tell Hitler we said hello. No, instead a couple of other things came to mind. First off, I thought back to 09/11/01. It's impossible not to do. It wasn't so much the images that stuck yesterday, but that old, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that swelled again. Horrific. Horrible. On the verge of throwing up as the stories came out. It was a day that changed everything. A day that will never be forgotten and it has nothing to do with the 'Don't Ever Forget' stic...

Maybe its the Royal borefest that got us talking about it. And what the hell happened to Prince William? He's as bald as me. Wasn't he the guy women everywhere drooled over? He looks like his old man already. Maybe it was an episode of Rules of Engagement that did the trick. An old photo surfaces in the marriage of the veteran couple and Puddy wants to know if he's still as hot as he used to be. So, I asked my wife. "Do I still look as good as when you first married me?" "No," she said. "Not even close." Now I was never Prince William in his prime anyway, but she could have hesitated a little. "What about me?" my beautiful wife asked. "As I am as beautiful now as on the day we married?" She laughed. Of course, it's an inside joke as she was extremely pregnant when we exchanged vows. So much so in fact that we discarded most of the wedding photos...her call. "It's a toss-up," I said. So, there you have it. J...