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Showing posts from June, 2011

You Know What I Would Do?

Yesterday afternoon I was in the local grocery store when the man who was washing and arranging the lettuce was talking at the top of his voice about something that Obama was doing about fixing the economy. "You know what I would do?" the guy asked. I'm not sure why, but I chuckled. Then I grew sort of proud. Here was a working man, making the decisions for the rest of us while washing the lettuce and presenting it for the public. I did chuckle, however, because it struck me that not one of us has the answers, and because there is really no point in talking about it. "Your blog is funnier when you aren't political," one of my buddies said. Why sure it is...because like the rest of everyone else...I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. How would I fix the economy? What the hell do I know? I'm out of a lot less money in a lot shorter time every two weeks. You seriously want me or the green grocer trying to balance the budget? Give me that mu

Bruce and Clarence

This is why Springsteen is my hero...summing up the life and love he shared with his bandmate...adding a sensibility that isn't always readily apparent to the rest of us mere mortals: I've been sitting here listening to everyone talk about Clarence and staring at that photo of the two of us right there. It's a picture of Scooter and The Big Man, people who we were sometimes. As you can see in this particular photo, Clarence is admiring his muscles and I'm pretending to be nonchalant while leaning upon him. I leaned on Clarence a lot; I made a career out of it in some ways. Those of us who shared Clarence's life, shared with him his love and his confusion. Though "C" mellowed with age, he was always a wild and unpredictable ride. Today I see his sons Nicky, Chuck, Christopher and Jarod sitting here and I see in them the reflection of a lot of C's qualities. I see his light, his darkness, his sweetness, his roughness, his gentleness, his anger, his brill

The Working Man

So, Matt came home on Monday afternoon, muttering under his breath. "I have friggin' blisters," he said. "That's because you've never worked before," I answered. "How was it?" "Tedious," he replied. Welcome to the world. Then on Tuesday morning there was this lovely exchange as I watched my beautiful wife make his lunch at 6 a.m. "Why are you making his lunch?" I asked. "Let him make his own. Better yet, why in all these years have you not made me even a single sandwich?" My wife rolled her eyes. "Okay, me and him on a boat...only one life-preserver, who's going over?" "You know the answer," she said. "But hear me out, there are reasons. First, he's younger. Secondly, you have life insurance." Nice! Then I heard that Matt's friend is sort of making fun of the men who work at the place, questioning the drive and ambition of the men who show up each day to feed their families

Meet Joe Shit

Thank God Jennifer Aniston has finally found love. Anyway, I was reading today about basketball star Ron Artest changing his name to Metta World Peace . Yeah, that's his new name. He is even going to make the Lakers put Peace on the back of his jersey. This is a guy who a few years ago went into the stands and beat the living hell out of a fan who said something mean to him about his mother. Anyway, with the moniker Clifford...I have often thought about changing my name. I get tired of the Big Red Dog and Clavin references. And coupling it with a joke that my Dad used to tell, I am announcing that my new name is now...yep... Joe Shit . Wouldn't that be sort of cool? "Excuse me, Mr. Shit...the doctor will see you now." I could have named my kids Jack and Dip. There would be no confusion over how to spell it. I am so sick of going, F as in Frank, A as in Apple, Zebra, Zebra, O as in Oscar, L as in Let me get off this friggin' phone, A as in apple again, R as in Ran

A Day Off

I took what can best described as a mental health day today. It's funny but when I showed my boss the day planner with the note in it, he glanced at the words 'mental health' and smiled. "One day won't help," he said. But it did help. I hung out with the boys all day. We went to lunch and a movie and then played a game of H-O-R-S-E in the driveway. Jake actually won, but it was good to get Sam out of the game quickly with his trash-talking and all. And the day off sort of got me thinking about people that can't seem to retire when the time comes. A couple of old baseball managers came back this week - Jack McKeon took the job in Florida, and Davy Johnson took the job in Washington. McKeon is 80 and Johnson is pushing 70. I gotta' tell you. When it is feasible to go, I won't have a lot of trouble stepping down. Of course that is off in the distance, but I know how quickly time flies and before long... I'm not saying that I'm ready now, by an

Everyone is Happy and Gay

As a kid the term 'gay' really only meant that you were happy. Well, there are a lot of homosexuals all over New York State acting all gay because of the court ruling that passed gay marriage here in the Empire State. I swear to God, I never got the big fight. I know that the people that oppose gay marriage say that the sanctity of marriage needs to be preserved, but I know a lot of men married to women who don't exactly sanctify the dream of togetherness, and it's certainly vice-versa. They want to be married, who cares? As a heterosexual man living in this state, who also happens to be happily married, I say that the only way that a marriage will be sanctified is through hard work, mutual respect, and love and commitment. Just because the parts don't line up doesn't mean that the marriage will necessarily fail or that I have the right to say that they can't do what they want. I ain't gay. I don't know how or why they feel slighted. I must interject

The Sam Man!

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There's no doubt about the heartbeat of our household. If we were a band Sam would be the drums. He keeps the beat better than the rest of us. And my boy turns eleven years old today. I know that I'm going to be eating either chicken wings or ribs somewhere tonight because those are his two favorites. I guess I'll have to suck it up. But you see, the thing about Sam is that he seriously likes to talk. If you are even remotely connected to our family he has done one of two things to you...called you just to chat...or made a bet with you. There's more than an outside chance that he will grow to be a bookie. Yet Sam is so much more around here. He takes the temperature of the room and he knows whether he should add a little laughter, a touch of aggravation, or his proud swagger of confidence. Did you know that he is going to be drafted by the Chicago Bulls when he's in the 9th grade? Yep, even better then his favorite player, Rose...they aren't even going to let hi

It Don't Matter

I see that Peter Falk died today…that’s a shame, but a nice, long, well-lived life by most accounts. I watched a lot of Columbo with my Mom & Dad on Sunday nights, and we never really guessed the ending. And another death of another celebrity that I enjoyed brings to mind a conversation I had with someone after Clarence passed away last week. “None of it mattered,” a buddy said. “All that fame, all that money. As great as he was…it still didn’t matter in the end.” But it did matter. The fact that Clarence was in a band that brought joy mattered a lot. The fact that his job was to entertain thousands of people at a time was certainly a worthwhile way to spend his time on the planet, right? Same thing with the bumbling detective. And the fact of the matter is that just because their jobs came with fame and fortune it doesn’t mean that they are better than anybody else. Yet their life work had to matter, didn’t it? Because if none of it matters than what the hell are we doing? And cer

I Was Only Drinking Tea

With the Yanks off last night my beautiful wife and I settled in to watch a movie. Against all my protests Ben Affleck was in it. His blatant love for the Red Sux makes me believe he's stupid. My wife's love for him also is quite aggravating, and usually, his movies are pieces of poop. I lost the argument. Halfway through the movie Ben's beautiful wife spoke a few beautiful, loving, caring and sympathetic words to him. "See how nice she is?" I asked. "Why don't you treat me like that?" I was just joking around to get her goat. "Cause you ain't Ben," she answered. Lost that one. I read a whole article today about Lindsey Lohan drinking tea. It was on CNN. Thank God, it wasn't alcohol! Who the hell could possibly care? Yeah, yeah, I know... I'm the one who read the article. I also read about Casey and Kaylee Anthony and the twisted grandparents and chloroform, duct tape and the death of a 2-year old. Horrible. Some other tidbits

A High School Graduate

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Congrats to Matt, the ceremony is over and you are officially a high school graduate. A few thoughts collected while waiting, and waiting, and waiting for his name to be called so he could march across the stage in a three-second sprint, shake a few hands and walk back down the steps. 1). I wonder how the Yanks are doing? 2). The Valedictorian has a 99.34 average. Who's the asshole teacher that spoiled the perfect score? She probably got an A- in Gym. 3). God there are a lot of strange names. I counted two Knoops and a Koop. They could form a band. 4). I wonder how the Yanks are doing? 5). Don't the teachers and students who sound so excited about joining the "real world" understand that the big opportunity over the next four years may be getting a hunk of free government cheese? 6). Why were plaid green pants invented? The guy sitting a few rows down is wearing a pair. "Would you ever wear those?" my mother-in-law asked. "Not even to bed," I answe

The Celebration Continues

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I wonder if they celebrate birthdays in heaven. I know we still celebrate them down here because last night I dreamed I was on the phone with Jeff. He couldn't tell me what was happening there, but he kept me laughing. Oh how he kept me laughing. And he kept telling me that he was all right. Just fine, in fact. Yet there's an overwhelming sadness again today. ARE WE READY TO TURN THAT SADNESS AROUND???????? Jeff's buddy, Jan Mathis is spearheading the Thunder Road Softball Tourney on August 14th as the first annual tourney to benefit Jeff's family. All are welcome to play and participate and we will do a basket auction. I'll sign books. All that good stuff. And we will laugh, and laugh and laugh. And if Jeff were on the phone with me I know that's what he'd tell me: "Take care of my kids, and for God's sake, stop trying to understand life, and enjoy it a little!" August 14th! I want to see everyone there. I'm playing! You'll have enoug

Tee Treatment Time

A psychiatrist might have a lot of fun with me. For the first time in a couple of weeks I got a good night's sleep. I slept all the way until 5:30 and was excited to see those numbers blinking back at me this morning. And I felt better all day. There have been a lot of long days recently, so I hit the ground running. What did I want to get done? Then it hit me: A Tee Treatment after getting my hair cut. Any Super Cuts enthusiasts out there? I settled in the chair on my way home from work. The young girl looked at me quizzically. "How do you want it cut?" she asked. "What in the hell can you possibly do with it?" I asked. "You have free rein...just make it short." The gray hair started to fall. "You can color it," she said. "Most of my friends have seen the gray," I said. "The cat's out of the bag. I color it now and I'll look like a freaking idiot." "You are 80 percent gray," she said. "The ship has

I Sort of Miss Blockbuster

Watched a couple of movies over the weekend. The first one we ordered off of the television and it may have even been free. It was a piece of crap called "Where the Heart Is" and through it all I kept wondering if it were a comedy (it didn't make me laugh), or a tearjerker (it didn't make me cry) or a romantic comedy (I picked out the guy she'd end up with in the first scene he was in). It went on and on and on for two plus hours and just before it ended, my beautiful wife asked what I think might happen. "The only way it ends happy," I said, "Is if they are all crushed to death by a runaway train." I know that if anyone handed me $200 hundred million I could make the movie that would change the world. So, that's another thing I got going for me. I'd be better than Ron Howard. Speaking of which. We rented, from RedBox for $1.00 the Ron Howard movie with Kevin James and Vince Vaughn. I was looking forward to it, but it wasn't worth t

Bah!

I really missed my Dad yesterday. Sure it was Father's Day and I was supposed to think of him, but it's not that I don't think of him a lot anyway. It just kept hitting me that there was something that I was supposed to do, but that I couldn't do it. I heard Chris Rock talking about fathers. He said that fathers get the short end of the stick as they are not thanked for half the stuff that mothers are. In his comedy routine Rock says, "Thank you, Daddy, it sure is good to eat. Thank you, Daddy, it's a lot easier to read with all these lights." And I suppose that is where some of the angst comes in. Dad's just sort of blend in, and good Dad's do it without expecting much in return, so they are easy to ignore. Except when you really want to see them and they aren't there. I didn't ignore my Dad. I couldn't have if I wanted to. Dad was always the center piece of every single room he was in. Thankfully I was able to watch him work as an adu

In God's Hands Our Fate Is Complete

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RIP Big Man. For 30 years and I hope for 30 more I will marvel at your work. I keep thinking about the Aud and the first concert and telling my friends that I'd never seen anything like that show. It never changed. It was always great. Too many damn days missing things. Listened to Bruce today and everytime there was a solo by Clarence, I felt sad. That shit better stop soon. Wanna' get back to enjoying his work.

Too Many Damn Days

Life certainly is confusing. You always hear crap about forgetting the past from people who are encouraging you to move forward. Then other geniuses tell you that you should never forget your past or you'll be destined to repeat old mistakes. Well which is it? Forget the past? Don't forget the past? Obviously the past can't just be brushed aside anyway, so I suppose it must be embraced. But what happens when it's sad? I keep thinking about anchovies this week. Last Father's Day my Dad had us sitting in the driveway as he scurried about the basement looking for a can on anchovies to give me as a Father's Day gift. For one reason or another that can is still in my cupboard. I've eaten plenty of anchovies over the year but when Dad died (which I still can't say out loud) I decided not to eat that can...holding onto the past and I glance at it from time-to-time, shake my head, and go about my business. With Father's Day staring me in the face, it's s

Weiner Slips Out

I love the New York Post only because of their headlines. This morning it called the Anthony Weiner resignation as a Premature Evacuation. I like mine better. What makes the story great is that one of the guy's calling for Weiner's resignation is named Boehner. So the whole Boehner-Weiner play on words is really pretty exciting. What are we seven years old!!!!!! There have been jokes told, one after another about Weiner. He deserves every second of it. First-class weirdo if you ask me. If you're gonna' get busted for cheating...at least cheat! What a dopey bastard. Yet the reason for the Post is simply the grab for headlines. There have been great headlines through the years and I have a closet filled with old newspapers. I originally saved them for the boys, but with the freaking Internet it all seems obsolete. Something tells me that I'll be older and grayer, sitting in a chair reading about OJ getting busted for carving up his wife and her friend. And the all-tim

Down the Road From Barack

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So weird. Up and out of the house by 5 AM and on a plane after going through security and getting patted down at the airport. I got to take off my shoes as well. Ah well, used to that by now when flying. You can tell the seasoned flyers too because they can dress and undress in about a minute and a half. Landed in Baltimore by 7 and off to the races. You know the drill down there...on a shuttle to a train, and if you're lucky you avoid a bus. Settled into Barack's neighborhood by 8:30 or so. And there are cops on every corner. We needed to enter a building called IMF...supposed to be a big deal building on Pennsylvania Avenue. Our licenses were scanned. Shoes off again. All items in a bin. "Come here Mr. Clifford, I need to take your photo," the perfectly polite woman wasn't about to try the old last name. "Try and make me look good," I said. She didn't smile. She didn't make me look good either. They scanned my driver's license. We laughed a

Lighten Up, Francis

The comic Tracy Morgan is in hot water because he told a joke about his son possibly being gay. Morgan said that if his son told him that he were gay he'd "stab the n-word". The key words in the sentence above are comic and joke, if you ask me. Yet Morgan is now running all over the country telling people how sorry he is if he offended gay people everywhere. Not to mention the n-word...he can say that because he's black. As a fellow standup comic, it sort of bothers me. First off, the joke isn't all that funny, but it does sort of mimic, right or wrong, what a lot of people think about the subject. We've come a long way in the acceptance of gays in society, but are you telling me that a lot of fathers wouldn't think the same exact thing? Where I fall on the subject matter is inconsequential...I could care less who other people love...it's worrying about who hates who that is more disconcerting, but even if I totally disagreed with Morgan as to the poin

Kharma is a Bitch, Bron-Bron!

Man, I was really rooting for the Dallas Mavericks in the NBA Finals. Not that I was watching, mind you, because basketball, like hockey, has become basically unwatchable, but because there was an added story line to the series. You see, I don't care for LeBron James, or even wife-beater Dwayne Wade, either. I don't like Chris Bosh either and most of that is because he looks sinister. I don't like him either because all three teamed up to win. They basically crowned themselves champions before the season started and said they were together not to win one, or three, or five titles, but ten! Then they lost. After the series LeBron showed even less class by saying something along the lines of: Oh well, I'm rich and your not. How can you NOT root against that. Yet what bothered me even most is that he was an ass during the season as well. He stiffed the city of Cleveland by saying he was "Taking his talents to South Beach." He didn't stiff them by leaving, min

The Big Man

On Saturday we loaded up the car to head to the Susan G. Komen breast cancer walk. Since I was driving and gas costs $4 a gallon, I decided that I get to choose the music. All together now...what did we listen to? Yeah, Bruce. My niece and my kids weren't thrilled. My buddy Pops was certainly happy. The second song that we heard was Jungleland and when Clarence did the long sax solo I cranked up the volume and taunted the kids. "Listen! Talent! There's no law saying that you can't make a song without talent." I enjoyed the hell out of the solo as I'd done thousands of times. I marveled at the length of the solo, and I even mentioned that I never heard Clarence miss even a single note. "Turn it down! He's older than dirt!" my niece said. When I heard the news this morning I was instantly sad. Clarence suffered a massive stroke. The news sounded horrible. As I write this there are encouraging reports as the Big Man is responding, but it's not j

Happy Birthday Jake!

He has facial hair now. His sense of humor is legendary around these parts, and you can look it up...the best indicator of intelligence is a quick wit. Jake has it in spades. He's anti-Yankee for now because I am a tad pro-Yankee, but there hasn't been a Fazzolari who has successfully made it through not being a Yankee fan so I have a feeling that will change. The operation that saved his life is long in the rearview mirror, but I Thank God for it every day. My boy is 14 today...Happy Birthday, kid. I'm really proud of my kids, you know? As a Dad there's a sharp edge to all that you do for them because you really want them to understand that life doesn't come easy. That it takes hard work, dedication, passion in doing what's right, and yes, a quick wit. When there's something funny to share, I find Jake and he comes looking for me as well. I hope he always searches me out to share things with. He's a wonderful kid with a bright sense of humor, and an abi

Baltimore Beat Me!

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Okay so Larry won by a few measly strokes as Baltimore visited New York for golf. Baltimore was also complaining because its fifty degrees here in June and because he was teamed with golf's equivalent of Ron Wood and Keith Richards, but we had a great time. I laughed a lot throughout the day but none more than when I asked my mother why she used to let my older brother pound on me on a daily basis. "Because you used to cower like a little girl," she said. "I wanted you to toughen up a little." Good to know. Didn't really work. Yet the 2nd photo attached could be the Jeff Fazzolari rule at the Rosebrook golf course. For all of you that read Oh Brother! it was the Rosebrook course where Jeff took the cart down the road to buy beer. I am firmly convinced that the sign has been posted along the first hole fairway to ensure that there aren't any repeat performances. And how did the leg hold up, you ask? Well, Larry brought up an 8-pack of wine that he relabel

The Queen

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Mind-blowing performance by the Queen Team at the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Event this year. A team led by my sister actually trounced the field in raising money for the fight, and Corinne was styling as they interviewed her on the television news. For good measure my nephew James snuck into the media event which was pretty cool as well. I didn't run or walk this year but I went to the event because I remembered how cool it was last year. Again it sort of renewed my faith in humanity. Just so neat that so many people donate their time and money to battle back against cancer. Besides the walk back and forth to the car was enough for me. Yet it's all about my sister...the Queen. She'd be the first to tell you that there are so many others who help her so much. In fact that would be the first thing she'd tell you, and she'd probably say that I'm so stupid for singing her praises, but that's the way it goes with really great people who believe in a greater go

Just Gnawing On a Pork Chop

I love breaded pork chops. I have learned to eat just two at dinner instead of the four or five I used to eat. Yet when we bake them, we often times bake way more than necessary because they are even better the next morning, cold, right from the 'fridge. The other morning I jumped out of bed, knowing that I was going to grab a pork chop instead of my usual bowl of garbage cereal. All jokes aside, I can do that once in awhile, right? I'm not that old! So, I showered, brushed my teeth, drank a cup of coffee and grabbed my chop. I was engrossed in Sports Center when my beautiful, hardworking wife returned from the night shift at her job. The unique thing about someone working the night shift is that they've been wide awake for hours when they meet up with people who are just rising from bed. In other words, my wife is wound up, while the rest of us are just looking for a little peace before starting our day. As usual, Kathy came in with the stories flying. "She said this,

You Gotta' Aim Them

As you go through life you'll find the most interesting people. Sometimes they will enter like a storm, stay close, and then circumstances will take them out of your life, but the feelings will never change. And you'll remember every second of the life moments they shared with you, when they are taken away. I knew a man named Kimball Patterson. A Native-American ironworker with a college degree in physics who coached lacrosse, loved the Sabres and Bills, and worked so hard it made my head spin while I sat beside him as a 27-year old man on a long-term job. Kimball passed away on Monday at the age of 59. He had just hit a golf shot in a charity tournament. His heart couldn't take it. "We all get a lot of arrows to shoot in our lives," Kim told me once. "Most people just shoot them willy-nilly. You gotta' aim them." I can still see him saying it. We laughed a lot in our time together in that little job trailer. He let me and my buddy Jeff have his Sabr

WE NEED CHATTER ABOUT OH BROTHER!!!!!!

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Hey folks! For purely non-selfish reasons I would love to get people talking about the book before the National Awards Program. Over the course of the last few weeks I've been texting Johnny, Rocco and Farrah on a daily basis, and Mom and my beautiful niece Andrea just went down for a wonderful visit. To hear my Mom tell the stories of the questions that the kids are asking is absolutely heartbreaking so it is with all of my heart, I ask you to pass the word about the book. The response has been overwhelming, but we also want to get the word to everyone within earshot. It's a story of love, family and living life a day at a time and with a lot of love and humor. It's a story that the world needs to know! So, search around for ways that you can help spread the word. Is it possible that Jeff's book can be a National Book Award recipient. If life were even a little fair, it would win in a unanimous vote. I am ready, willing and able to promote the book from here to Baghdad

A Woman's Man?

I passed by my beautiful wife in the kitchen the other day and I said simply, "Man, I wish you were Angela." (Fake name). Now a lot of guys wouldn't get away with wishing their wife were another woman, especially to said wife's face, but Kathy just laughed. "I wish you were Angela too," she said. About a year and a half ago I was really hurting after the car accident on the skyway, and my wife dragged me to the spa. I'd been through pills, adjustments, rest and ice. At the spa (I am tempted to call is a massage parlor, but that's something Anthony Weiner would do) I met Angela. On that first visit, Angela hurt me with her pushing and pressure and unbelievable strength. Two days later, I felt like my back was brand new. I've been swearing by Angela ever since. Of course, there's a funny aside to the first massage. Kathy had also gone and we had finished up about the same time and were sitting in the lounge area drinking a water. "How was

How's Your Dago-ing?

Some day I'm going to count the number of times someone tells me to have a nice day or asks me how it's going? Just now as I was typing my last report my beautiful wife headed by the office and said, "How's it going, Clifford?" "I'm working!" I said. "I was just checking in," she said. "I don't really care what you're doing." And that's about the extent of it, right? No one really cares. There are the people we see every day. The woman who accepts the $1.75 for my copy of the Buffalo News and the USA Today. "How you doing?" she asks. I try to come up with something clever. Something more original than 'Same shit, different day.' "Better than Anthony Weiner," I said today. Yet my favorite is when someone says: "How's your day going?" "Dago? Why do you have to start a fight?" I'll ask. That little gem of a line has been in our family for about a hundred years. I'

Weird and Absurd

You know there are moments in the day when things are going real fast when I'll pass something on the road, or hear a song on the radio, or smell an old familiar smell that brings me back in time to something else. And right at that moment, I'll stop and consider all the things that have happened in my life, and in the lives of so many other people, and I'll think: "Man, it's just so absurd." I really don't feel that I will live another month in my life when I won't think that the whole shebang (to steal one of my beautiful wife's new favorite words) is just sort of weird. Do you find life weird and absurd at times? And I was talking with a friend of mine the other day and he mentioned something about it being a good thing that he was blessed with enough intelligence to look at certain situations and make a sound decision. I told him that maybe it would have been better if we were born, or somehow stayed real simple. When things get complicated by

Moments

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Life is about trudging through the bullshit to get to the really cool moments, isn't it? Isn't that what it all sort of boils down to? Fortunately I spotted a couple of photos yesterday as they were posted to Facebook. Don't we live in a great world? Two minutes after a photo is snapped it can be sent all over the world. Remember waiting for the pictures to be developed? I should tell my kids about that they'd laugh their asses off. Photos from a graduation would be passed around in August sometime. Anyhow...I had to put up the photo of Matt at his prom because there's a slight chance that it may embarass him. Also, Mom and her grandkids is up there because that's one of the moments I was talking about. The picture tells a thousand words, right? More like a million right there. And you know what I thought when I first glanced at it? "Man, Mom is incredible." That's it. Plain and simple. A photo that can muster up a million words and I could only th

The British Are Not Gonna' Get Our Guns, Or Something Like That!

Sarah Palin has to get into my blog, doesn't she? Just when I want to ban her from making an appearance, she appears somewhere and says something stupid and then swears by it and then blames the media for trying to trick her with their "tough" questions. This last showing in New England is straight from the George Dubya handbook for mental incompetence. She told a crowd of her supporters that Paul Revere rode through the streets ringing his bell telling all the British soldiers that the American colonists were mad as hell as they weren't going to let Britain have their guns. Don't be confused by the facts, there old wise hockey Mom. Revere actually rode through the streets with a lantern to warn the colonists that the British were coming. Remember that from 2nd grade? The British Are Coming! The British Are Coming! When the media called her out on it, Sarah got defensive saying that there may have been some British soldiers somewhere out there and that Revere'

Bring it Maryland!

My cousin Larry is coming up to play golf next weekend. He asked my brother Jim: "Will Cliff be well enough to play?" I laughed. Larry is a funny dude. Yet it is time to whine, bitch, piss and moan. I quit playing golf yesterday after nine holes because I just couldn't figure out what hurt worse my aching back or my forever swollen knee. Yes, I hate whiners. That is well-established, but what is life without a little whine? The knee surgery was done at the start of April. I should be all good by now, right? It depends who you talk to. I know one guy who never missed a beat. I know another five who said it took them eight months to get back to doing their usual stuff. Well, I've been doing my usual stuff since three days after the surgery...and I will NOT miss another day of work due to this, but it feels as if I am wearing a weighted cuff around my knee. It is double the size of my left knee. Rehab, stretching, ice, rest...its all the same. Climb a 240-foot scaffold..

My Hero Snuffy

One of the faithful readers of this blog is also a guy who keeps a running conversation going with me all through nearly every day as we text one another back and forth. Of course he is also one of the more faithful commenters on the blog, letting me know when my point-of-view is off, and when something we both care about is mentioned. He is also one of the Grape Apes and can hit a golf ball a long way. Even when he's on the green. When we were a lot younger, perhaps as much as 35 years ago, he picked up a nickname in the Fuzzy house - Snuffy after the character on Sesame Street. Well, let me tell you...Snuffy is a good man. He gets up every morning and goes to work each day, and we all know that sometimes the blood runs cold and you feel so weak that you just want to explode. Explode and tear the whole town apart, and I'm sure there have been days when he's been tempted to take a knife and cut the pain from his heart as well. Because as you see, Snuffy isn't just my fr

Sweet Dreams

Close your eyes I want to ride the skies in my sweet dreams. Close your eyes I want to see you tonight in my sweet dreams. Matt went to the prom last night. He got all dressed up, bought a flower for the gal, and the emotions ran high for Kathy. I wasn't around for the pictures and/or to meet the young lady. Yeah, he got lucky. But I most likely wouldn't have given him a hard time anyway. As you can see, I remember the chorus of my own prom song. Sweet Dreams by Air Supply. It goes without saying that my prom seemed as if it were about three weeks ago, but I definitely do recall the pre-prom party...a buddy of mine and I got lost in the Boston Hills when he decided to take a shortcut home from picking up our tuxes. I also recall the prom itself...I was so light on my feet, cutting the rug as a handsome, dashing, skinny, full-haired, let's just say it...flat-out stud...and another buddy took home the prom king hat. I wonder if he still has it. I'll ask him today, I'm

Mork From Ork

I spent a lot of time on the road today. I listened to the Jay Thomas Show, as per usual. They were running an old show where Jay interviewed a man who makes hats that are designed to ward off the advances of aliens who invade the minds of unsuspecting humans. The guy, Michael Menkin sounded reasonable enough, and he certainly believed that he had the secret to curing things such as autism and epilepsy...which he is sure is caused by these attacking aliens. Jay did the interview straight up, only laughing after the interview was over, and in between legitimate questions. How many people out there actually believe in aliens visiting this planet? Do any of you believe that it has happened, or is happening, or that aliens are living among us? Will a specially designed hat made by this guy be enough to chase away those nasty aliens if they target you? The man was certain that he was correct. When he was asked if people made fun of him, he said, yes, but he also said that when it all comes

Happy June the 2!

I have known that June the 2 is a sort of a holiday in the Fazzolari family since I've been about three years old. Every year, we send messages back and forth wishing each other a Merry June the 2 or a Happy June the 2 or a Wonderful June the 2. So what's the deal? My great Uncle Jim, who I remember vaguely, used to promise my grandmother that he would visit. When she'd ask when he'd say June the 2. Now whenever something needs to be done in our family, and there is no certain time frame, we say that we will get it done, or visit, or finish the job on June the 2. My wonderful Uncle Jim is the catalyst for the June the 2 celebrations now. My Dad, of course, was in on the joke, and all of my brothers, my sisters, my cousins, my aunts and uncles are all June the 2 enthusiasts. And June the 2 is about so much more to all of us. We have a family bond that is so strong that despite the fact that there are no presents passed out, no celebratory dinners, we all look forward to

What A Weiner

I'm telling you, the members of congress and the various political representatives must have an awful lot of time on their hands. Now we have a Democratic pervert being questioned about sending a photo of his, well, how to say this delicately, um...weiner to a 21 year old girl on Twitter. Don't you think that if your name is Anthony Weiner that you'd send photos of anything other than your weiner as a gift to your followers? I really don't get it. I don't. How does that enter your mind? "Well, here I sit alone in my hotel room with nothing to do. I already called home to check on the family. What else can I possibly do?" The respected rep flips through the television shows but little catches his fancy. He decides to update his Twitter account. "Ah, I have a new follower. I'll ask her if I can follow her. She's hot. Why not?" The girl is impressed that a congressman is interested and agrees to follow him. "Wonderful!" The congres

Catching Up

If you held a gun to my head I wouldn't be able to tell you who won American Idol. If he hit me with a lead pipe, I'd have trouble picking him out of a lineup. I'm happy about that. Saw Hangover 2 over the weekend. I didn't see the first Hangover for a long time after it was a hit and I didn't laugh a whole lot. I figured it was because I was expecting too much. Saw this one early...it was okay...still didn't belly laugh. Me, Myself & Irene is still the funniest movie ever. I see that the Anthony murder case is going on in Florida. Just from a couple of glances at Nancy Grace that case should last about 12 minutes. What mother loses her kid for 30 days and claims it ran off with a nanny that didn't exist? Sick. Give her the fair trial, then lock her away forever. Dopey bastards in the world, truly. Gas prices are coming down, huh? Probably just in time to hear about the record profits made my big oil. Seriously, we don't need to keep an eye on any of