Thoughts of a Common Man

We were watching Game 7 of the World Series. Sam was rooting for the Rangers and I sort of wanted the Cardinals because I like Lance Berkman. Either way, it didn't really matter to either of us because the 27-Time World Champion Yankees weren't involved. Oh well, free agency starts this week. During the 7th inning stretch Joe Buck-up announced that a grammy winner was going to lead the tribute song to America. Buck-up introduced singer David Nail. Never heard of the guy. David Nail? I turned to Sam and said, in an angry tone, "David NAIL? What was Bobby Screw busy?" Sort of a dumb, throw-away line that my brother John is really good at. Puns that make you laugh because they are really dumb. Except Sam couldn't stop laughing. He got caught in a giggle that went on until the game was over. He would look at me and just say, "Bobby Screw, Bobby Screw, Bobby Screw." The sound of his laughter took me way back...I was probably Sam's age. I was seated beside...

I do enjoy my birthday for a couple of real tangible reasons. First off, my great sister, Corinne, never forgets and she always gets a present that matches my personality. Two Italian salamis this year. They're almost gone. Secondly, my mother always gets me a gift card. For a book store. I guess she knows me well too. Like Mom, I am not great at sharing books. I want to buy them (to help the author who worked his ass off) and I want to keep them in my room when I'm done reading them. So, what did I get this year with my gift card? 13 Reasons Why by Jay Asher. Loose Girl (I liked the title) by Kerry Cohen. Bad Blood by John Sandford (I read everything he writes). South of Broad by Pat Conroy (with a nod to my buddy Jan for turning me in that direction). Cruel Death by M. William Phelps (I met him in Rhode Island at a Book Awards Show...we had a couple of beers...great writer). Moneyball by Michael Lewis (Baseball...can't get enough) and The Winner Stands Alone by Pablo ...

Since I did the top ten sitcoms of all-time, even though I left Friends off the list...which was great, actually...here are the worst. 10). Joey -Speaking of Friends. I wanted to like it. I really did. It was awful. 9). Bewitched. Larry Tate was great, but when they switched the Darrin's I got all mixed-up and they didn't even address it. Like we were supposed to believe they were the same guy. 8). Designing Women. Who the hell cared? 7). Gilligan's Island - Sorry. It sucked. Tell me that those guys wouldn't have tried to bang Ginger and Mary Ann, and/or smothered Lovey in her sleep. 6). The Brady Bunch - It sucked too. Sorry. Alice getting laid? Hard to believe. And the Dad was gay. Can't watch the show, listen to him dole out advice, and not think of the fact that he was gay. Or that Florence Henderson banged Greg or that Greg did Marsha. Too freaking crazy for me. 5). Tyler Perry anything - always seems to be on TBS. Always seem to be yelling. Tried it a couple o...

Man, the protests are growing. What is going on in this country? A lot of unrest, for sure. Let me try and figure out what I think. Tuition is going up. Fuel costs are through the roof. Food prices are high. Entertainment prices are higher than ever. Medical costs are a freaking joke. Those that have jobs have not been handed cost of living increases. Wages have been stagnant for 30 years. Debt is through the ceiling. We are fighting with everyone, still, right? Do I have it down? So, why are they protesting? The battle seems to be that none of them truly know. Let me tell you a story. I was teaching a class this week. One of the people arrived for class twenty minutes late. I decided to excuse the fact that he was tardy and told him to sign in and grab the handouts. He needed the class to keep his job. He screwed up what he was supposed to do. With 30 people looking on, I repeated my instructions. He got the proper paperwork, went to his seat, took out his cell phone, dialed, and bega...

I love sitcoms. I would watch them over any other thing on television other than a sporting event. They certainly are better than reality television. I was catching an episode of Seinfeld in the hotel room tonight when it sort of dawned on me that I need to talk about my favorite all-time sitcoms. What's yours? It seems that years ago there were a lot more to choose from. I remember Thursday nights on NBC in particular. Wings, Frazier, Cheers. It was can't miss television. So, how do I rank them? Let's go backwards from ten: 10). M*A*S*H - I loved that show, but when I heard a comic say that it lasted longer than the Korean war, it kind of bugged me. Loved the final episode though. Watched it in the college dorm freshman year. 9). King of Queens - laughed hard every time she got on him about his weight. She was a tad nasty though. 8). Everybody Loves Raymond - loved the finale of this one too. A lot of yelling, but Robert and Frank made the show. 7). Modern Family - This on...

The events of Monday led me to the conclusion that I should definitely draw some conclusions. Every day in this great land people live their last day. That is certainly a scary proposition. I never truly feared death until I was looking down its muzzle. Now I think of it all the time and it sort of drives me nuts. I wish I could wrap everyone up in bubble wrap and keep them happy and secure. No accidents. No illness. No sadness or disease. Not possible, right? In an instant everything you hold dear can be ripped away. And there's the voice in my head, the one that was honed by my family and friends and the nuns that beat me all the way through grammar school. "Trust in God." "Stay positive." That little voice brings instant aggravation. Yet when I wrote Oh Brother! it was Jeff's spirit that I was trying to get to. The 'have-a-good-time-even-if-you're-walking-into-an-empty-room-all-by-yourself' feeling. It's ironic to think that his passing to...

Why bother? Decided to take a mental health break. A day off of work on Monday in order to gear up for a real long rest of the week. "What do you have planned?" my beautiful wife asked. "Not a single thing after my doctor's appointment." And I was fairly excited about no plans until precisely 6:30 a.m. when my brother-in-law Chuck texted me about an accident in the old hometown. What were the chances it could be someone I know and love? Pretty damn good, actually. My buddy Pops...banged up for sure. I did have a doctor's appointment for my knee so before checking in on Pops at the hospital I saw the doc. "We have to go back in." Perfect. Two for two. It's scheduled for next Thursday. I decided to spend a little time with the wife. Sam came home early from school with an upset stomach. All right. Stop for a slice of pizza. "Slices are going to be about ten minutes." I waited. Days like this. In an instant. No control over anything. But...

On Saturday night I went out to see my brother-in-laws and some good friends play at a benefit for the Gloria Shea Memorial Scholarship Dinner at Ilio Di Paolo's Restaurant in Blasdell. There are a few reasons why I want to write-up the music from the evening, the greatest reason of all being that the band can really play. I'm talking great vocals, excellent music, a bit of comedy, and just great old-time Rock & Roll. As I watched, I longed for the days of the great bands. Quick, think of an act that started after 1990 and is still playing. We tried to do just that as a table discussion. "U2," someone said. "1982," I said. "Bruce is still playing." "1973." Then we got to talking about the Beatles and the Stones because Pat and the crew were blowing the room away with their great songs. Jim Shea was doing a great John Lennon voice on the stage. "They don't write them like that anymore," someone at my table said. And what ...

DARWIN AWARDS - Award Candidates In September, a 41-year-old Detroit man got stuck and drowned in two feet of water after squeezing head first through an 18-inch-wide sewer grate to retrieve his car keys. In October, a 49-year-old San Francisco stockbroker, who "totally zoned out when he ran," according to his wife, accidentally jogged off a 200-foot-high cliff on his daily run. Buxton, NC: A man died on a beach when an 8-foot-deep hole he had dug into the sand caved in as he sat inside it. Beachgoers said Daniel Jones, 21, dug the hole for fun, or protection from the wind, and had been sitting in a beach chair at the bottom Thursday afternoon when it collapsed, burying him beneath 5 feet of sand. People on the beach used their hands and shovels, trying to claw their way to Jones, a resident of Woodbridge, VA, but could not reach him. It took rescue workers using heavy equipment almost an hour to free him while about 200 people looked on. Jones was pronounced dead at a hospit...

Since 2001 I've been watching the World Series with the sound off. Isn't that a shame? The reason, of course, is because the two announcers hired by Fox are awful. That isn't even the right word. Awful is too good for those morons. As everyone is well aware around my house, I want to meet Joe Buck in the worst way. Not because I admire him, but because I just might kick him in the shins and run away. Baseball is a peaceful game that doesn't need constant chatter. Buck never shuts up. While we are watching an inning he tells us who's going to bat the next inning. And he roots for teams over other teams. I defy you to watch a single Yankee game before he starts talking payroll. He mentions, by the end of the first inning that the Yankees spend more money than every other team. "Who makes the most money?" Sam is now screaming back at the screen. And Buck's father was supposedly a great Cardinals announcer. That's why Buck openly roots for them. Fine. ...

It's been a weird couple of days. A cherished friend of mine told me that she considered what I write to be as important to her as to what Steinbeck's writings mean to me. That's a lofty responsibility. Than another friend texted me to let me know that my blogs have been a bit lazy lately...they lack the energy. "Wake the f&%* up," he told me. The truth lies somewhere in the middle. Writing something each day is a responsibility that I certainly cherish. If no one read along, I'd still do it. I've done it since I was about seven. That someone enjoys it means something to me, but it doesn't define the task. What it all breaks down to is my own stop and start attempt to make some sense out of the every day things in life. I've been writing a lot about a character who thinks he knows everything and is slapped upside the head by the things that he doesn't know. They say all writing is autobiographical, right? There's a lot I don't know....

How many freaking names did that a-hole have? It's funny, but it's not. The other afternoon I was in the bank where there was a plasma television on to the news of (I'll use the name I know from childhood) Gadhafi's death was announced. There was a man about ten years older than me in front of me. The teller was maybe twenty-five years old. "They killed Gadhafi, huh?" I asked. "Who's he?" the teller asked. "Who's he?" the older guy asked. "Are you kidding me?" "No, what team does he play for?" the kid asked. (That is not a lie for a better blog....the kid asked that question). "He's the Libyan leader. There's a revolution going on," the older man was beside himself. The kid gave the best answer. I laughed. "I live in a nice neighborhood," he said. "I don't concern myself with that negative crap." So there we were. And I was going to write a nice, liberal condemnation blog...

So some nutbag let 51 exotic animals loose in Ohio and then he shot himself as the fun began. There were lions, tigers, bears and leapords running around and the police had to shoot them before they harmed innocent people. And there are people out there complaining that the animals had to be put down. I say that the exotic animals loose in the world are actually the humans. A few of them need to be put down. I listened to a lot of talk radio as I drove from one worksite to another. There was a story of a man who had a cheating wife. He took her back with the kid that she had out of wedlock. He took the children as his own and raised the child to a teen. Then his wife went back with her unemployed boyfriend who was actually the biological father of the kid. And the judge ordered the man who didn't really father the kid to continue to pay child support to the mother and the actual father of the kid!!!! Not kidding. The poor bastard is paying child support to an ex-wife and the actual...

My kids have taken to remind me of the fact that I once tried to let them know that one of their idols was, or may not have been, a genius. "He makes a living with a ball!" I exclaimed as I tried to make a point. Now, whenever we hear one of them being interviewed and sort of butchering the English language either Jake or Sam will scream out my famous words. HE MAKES HIS LIVING WITH A BAAAAAALLLLLLLLL! And it drives me crazy when I realize that how much of an influence sports has over all of our lives. This past weekend the coach of the 49ers went over to shake hands with the coach of the Lions. Instead of offering his hand like a man, he shook the Lions coach's hand violently and slapped the man on the back in a dismissive shove. The Lions coach was pissed and a wimpy-fight ensued. The sports stations showed it a million times. And then they talked about it to death. Some of the analysts were actually defending the 49ers coach saying that they don't like to shake han...

I had no idea. There was really no way to know what we were missing. As stated earlier, I was kind of lost in the movement of time. Had no idea that our television was ten years old. Do you know that they're made advancements in technology since then? We finally broke down and replaced the old set. The idea was to get the new set up and running in time for football on Sunday, and I gotta' tell you: I laughed a lot. We could see the color of the player's eyes. The grass is actually green. The set didn't go to pink and wobbly after watching ten minutes. Then the boys played an old rerun of My Name is Earl and I watched along with them. Jamie Pressly is hot. I don't know what the episode was about because it didn't actually feel like I was watching television. It looked as though I was actually in that town or that the actors were standing in the center of my living room. "This is ridiculous," Sam said. "About time we aren't living under concentr...

There really is not a lot to say about being forty-seven years old. Today is my first day of being in that club. Where it is really weird is when you see it in print: Cliff Fazzolari, 47, of Blasdell, New York, said, "Holy Shit, I never saw that coming." And it's just a number by your name, of course, but seeing it written makes me really long for something like this. Cliff Fazzolari, 21, of Blasdell, New York is a candidate for CEO of the World and he said, "I'm going to freaking win." Therein lies the basic difference, I think. At 21, there's that, "Man anything is possible, I'm going to have the world eating out of the palm of my hand." At 47, there's the, "I hope no one is around so I can eat a bowl of ice cream and take a nap." Birthdays are a lot more annoying now too. Back then it was like: "Let's go, dude!" Now it's, "Let's go, home." So, I'm 47 today. Got me thinking about the birth...

Life is tough. Grief is tougher. The days spin by, but the emotions stay pretty much the same. The anger and the misplaced fear can take control when you least expect it, really. And the memories. The damn memories that make you happy and sad all at the same time. Saturday morning I was out driving. It had been a rough week. Still sore. Still sleeping shitty. Still cognizant of the fact that there's baseball being played and the 27-Time World Champion Yankees have been dismissed from the proceedings. Every day lately feeling as it were an exercise as a human doing rather than a human being . Pissed at myself for feeling that way. Trying to keep my head above the rising tide. Thinking of turning 47 this week. Forty-freaking-seven years old! As luck might have it, E Street Radio was on when I sat down in the car. If you don't have Sirius-XM, you are really missing something great. Penn from Penn and Teller was on and he told a story about meeting Springsteen after Bruce had atte...

Today I was recanting a story of a few years ago. It's a true story. I visited a shop for work. The woman that I was meeting with had adopted her business from her husband who had died, rather unexpectedly, leaving her in charge. Her one hesitation about taking the job was that she didn't want to leave her dog home alone as she worked. So she brought the dog to work with her. After all, she was the boss. When I met the woman, the dog was literally on it's last legs. It looked like it was painful for the Lab to even lift it's head. Being a dog-lover, I had to ask. "How old is your dog?" "He's 16," the woman said. Tears welled in her eyes. "He has cancer, I'm afraid. I may have to have his back legs amputated." She must have seen the horror reflected back from my eyes. "He'll be fine. They have wheelchairs for them. Honestly, he can live at least five more years. He's really healthy otherwise." Wow , I thought. Healt...

Isn't Google a wonderful tool? The main reason I like it? I can look up my dreams in the morning. The other morning I remembered a bunch of them. The evening before I'd read about three more buildings in Buffalo being run into by errant drivers. I read the article just before I went to sleep. Then I had the now-typical dream of being in a room with everyone I've ever known in life. It's very often a strange party with an odd mixture of conversation and hatred. Anyway, the party was a drunken mess, and at the end of the night we were all in a car, flying down a busy snow-covered road. I was in the backseat directly behind the driver and I was screaming. It was moments before the crash. My sister Carrie was the driver. She was laughing. I got out of bed and hit the head. It was 1:30 a.m. Thankfully, I got back to sleep. At 5 I woke for the day. I immediately recalled the last dream. I was the driver. I backed into a red car, tore the mirror off, and like Marshawn Lynch, I...

Man, I watched a recap of the protesters down at the foot of Wall Street. It was kind of embarrassing. Don't get me wrong. I am seriously psyched that we live in a land where we can stand up and say whatever the hell we want. Imagine if we weren't? I would have been drawn and quartered by now. Yet to say that the effort at Wall Street is a bit disorganized might be the understatement of the year. I was watching Fox & Friends , by mistake, mind you, the other morning and I caught a glimpse of some of the protesters. They asked one guy why he was sleeping in the streets and he sort of shrugged. They asked him one question about the workings of the government and he looked like Sarah Palin might look during the first round of a spelling bee. Then some guy ran straight into the microphone and I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd have thought for sure that we were back in 1972 and John Lennon was the guest of honor. This man had the glasses, the peace sign necklace, the...

This man can write. I promised I'd pass along information on his new book. Here you go. Book Launch Party Broken and Profane a new crime novel by Jeff Schober 7:30 p.m., Friday, November 4 Jack Devine’s Irish Pub (at the Seven Corners) 4170 Southwestern Blvd. Hamburg, NY 14075 Cash bar Pizza, wings and pasta will be served. Books will be available for $12.95 Everyone is welcome... bring a friend. Buffalo, New York, in the fall of 1980: a white supremacist embarks on a killing spree, targeting black people... one every day. His first murder — from City Hall’s balcony twenty-eight stories high — becomes his signature. The case is assigned to Mark Bennett, a new detective whose father was a police legend. Ken Connell, the department’s star investigator, is angry to learn he is passed over. Bennett owns a pedigree, but lacks experience solving homicides. Bennett grapples with secrets: conversations with his dead father, and a burgeoning affair he must keep quiet, because Alison is ...

Nope, Oh Brother! The Life & Times of Jeff Fazzolari was not a finalist in the non-fiction category for the National Book Award , but check this. I received this letter from a reader in New Jersey, from a man that Jeff knew long ago, but who'd I never met. Cliff, Jeff would be very proud of how you wrote about his life. The ache I feel in my heart every day is unbelievable, and this is coming from a person who has not spoken to Jeff in over 20 years (one of the greatest regrets of my life, by the way), but I can not imagine what you and your family went through and are still going through. I do want to thank you for giving me some closure on some of my regret. It was great to know that Jeff had not changed one bit and that he was still a fun-loving prankster. There were so many things that stuck out, but there was one thing that struck me the most. After Jeff's first son was born he said, "How can you not believe?" I so wish that Jeff and I had remained in touch t...

I see the Seattle vigilante Phoenix Jones who dresses up in a costume and fights crime without help was arrested yesterday for pepper-spraying a bunch of innocent people on the sidewalk. He thought there was a fight breaking out, and he was working with his sidekick, Robin (I think), and was going to bring peace to the Starbucks City. Who among us has not dreamed of being a superhero? I know that I fashioned myself as a great hero in a great many situations. Most of the time it was to capture the good-looking chick and carry her off to safety where she'd pledge her eternal love. I got a good-looking chick, of course, my beautiful wife, so of course, the daydreams have certainly subsided. Why fight crime when there ain't a prize waiting at the end? Of course, we have all dreamed of super powers as well. What would your super power be? The ability to fly? Unbelievable strength? Faster than a locomotive? Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound? Spidey sense? Me? I'd like...

Man, am I disappointed. Sarah Palin is not going to run for president. Not that I would have thought about voting for her, mind you, but because I will certainly miss the comedy associated with such a run. I didn't know enough about Paul Revere until she spoke. I didn't know you could see Russia from her bedroom window until she told me that was how she shaped policy. All the golly gees and youbetcha's that I will miss. She was ready to roll too until all the dirt came out about her. Did you know she slept with a basketball player behind Trip or Trigger or Tupac's back? I can never remember what her snowmobiling husband's name is. And Bristol...oh how I will miss Bristol and her boyfriend, Trip or Trigger or Comet and Blitzen. She was one of us. She dropped out of school eleven times. She once ran her school board. She thought the country that borders us to the south was Texico. "Drill baby drill." "Why do you ask me such trip-up questions such as wha...

I played the weekend like a monk. After the Yankees lost I shut down my appearances on Facebook. What good would showing up do? I was open to all sorts of ridicule. All the people who I made fun of now had the chance to make fun of me. Didn't feel like taking the abuse. I also didn't watch the Sabres...can't see getting excited for a sport where they won't crown a champion for ten months. Regular season doesn't mean a thing. They all make the playoffs. Didn't watch the suddenly Super Bills either. There was a movie on Lifetime I wanted to catch, and reruns of Dick Van Dyke. Football fails to thrill me. Seems scripted. And the entire time that I stewed, I was well aware that I am getting miserable in my middle age. I have a shirt that has Miserable Men on the front and the Future is Coming on the back from a Bob Levy comedy special at the Brant Fire Hall. I wore it all weekend. And I wish I can say I felt better after my self-imposed break, but I still slept lous...

Hank Williams Jr. lost his job for a lousy joke about Obama and Biden. It was a lousy joke because it wasn't funny. It cost him his job because it was mean-spirited and because he isn't a comedian. Think of Jon Stewart saying the same thing. Not even a ripple. Yet I don't come down on the side of Hank on this one. Same thing as tossing the shoe at Bush or Chavez running his mouth about the same Prez. It's the office of the president that should be respected. Dumb joke anyway. As for Conrad Murray and his trial for Michael Jackson's death. I heard the man's taped testimony today. He should have taped one simple question. How long am I going up the river for? He's trying to sell the fact that he uses propofol as a sedative and that he only gave Michael a little to calm him down enough to sleep. There was enough in the King of Pop's system to knock out Mr. Ed. One piece of advice to Murray. In a few weeks, go after the biggest guy you can find in the orange...

Sometimes it seems that the world revolves around us, doesn't it? I always think of my son telling me, "It's not your world." Cliff Street in the City of Buffalo is off Clinton Street right next to Elk Provision, the meat market where my Dad, my brothers and sisters and I have spent thousands and thousands of dollars. it will take you to the thruway if you go the right direction on it. I remember the first trip I made to the market. I was always a little daffy and was extremely impaired when it came to driving directions. (Thank God for GPS). "Go down Clinton and turn left on Cliff Street," my father instructed. "Can you remember Cliff Street? If you can't, look at your driver's license. If you get lost, ask someone your name and then turn down that street." Sometimes I get lost just traveling down Cliff Street. It's a short and fairly non-descript road, but it certainly feels like it's mine. Weird, ain't it? What I like about b...

My beloved Yankees went down to the Tigers on Thursday night. They deserved to. Bases loaded and less than two outs, twice, and they didn't get in the run. Oh freaking well. And the reality of it all is that I have been following baseball since 1969. I became aware at the age of five or so. I wanted the Yanks to win every year. They've won 7 times. In 1977, 1978, 1996, 1998, 1999, 2000 and 2009. They've lost the world series in 1981, 2001, & 2003. They've missed the playoffs entirely one year. And the sun still came up and I'm still here. And next year, it will all start anew, and I will try and watch every single inning. My friends will chide me with the thought that they didn't win in 2011. A lot of the same people will tell me that they won't make the playoffs at all next year. And they will. And they might win it all. The sun will come up when they do. The haters will hate even more. I will be even more obnoxious. I am disappointed for one simple rea...

All of the best movies are about flawed characters overcoming the odds to do the impossible. Think Rocky , think Blindside . Think Revenge of the Nerds . The other night AJ Burnett had to pitch for the Yanks in an elimination game. My mother-in-law hates him. I'm talking, 'if I had a gun I'd shoot him' type of misappropriated anger. Good thing she doesn't have a gun or the whole countryside might be littered with bodies, but that's another story. My mother-in-law is not alone. AJ has not exactly endeared himself to the Yankee faithful. "I think he's going to pitch well," I said. "You're crazy! He's an idiot!" My mother-in-law exclaimed. AJ was in a perfect position to do what I like to see done. He had a shot at winning us back. Could it unfold like a movie, perhaps? Thinking about the life of Steve Jobs today. He was given up by his biological parents. He dropped out of college. He got fired from Apple on the 1st go-around. And t...

There are people who can recall every second of every day of their entire life, knowing what they ate, how they felt and what they watched on television. Ten years ago today I was at the Bills game as they played the New York Jets. I was with my buddy Jeff, my buddy John and my buddy Al. The Bills lost. We drank beer, ate wings, and laughed a lot. On that very morning the United States announced that they were going to attack Iraq for the 9/11 attacks that occurred less than a month earlier. Sound reasoning there. My wife was home with the boys. While I was at the game they were going to take a long nap to help fight the colds they were getting. There were snowflakes in the air. My kids were just 8, 4 and 1. The Yankees were gearing up for a playoff match up with the Oakland A's. Our lives were absolutely shattered on 10/06/01 because before the day was out, it was in an elevator that a nurse spilled the beans. "It's the most massive tumor we've ever seen," she sa...

Of course, that is from an old joke. A real old joke and a Chevy Chase movie about a guy who wants to buy tickets from a woman who is blessed in the chest department. The comic screws up the words and orders "Two pickets to.... You know the joke. Anyway, back when I was in high school Led Zeppelin was going to visit Buffalo in support of their "In Through the Out Door" album. It would have been a great tour because it might be the only music that they wrote themselves. Anyway, I had two pickets. I was going to go with the girl that I had been chasing for years and years. She didn't want to go anywhere else with me, but I suppose that seeing Robert Plant and Jimmy Page was her real agenda, but beggers can't be choosers. And then... Their drunken drummer choked to death on his own vomit and they canceled their visit. I could have been a contender. We may have an in for pickets to the Yankee game on Saturday. They are scheduled to play Texas in Game 1 of the ALCS. M...

I get a lot of my news from the Howard Stern Show. Robin does the news on a daily basis and Howard and crew sit back and give real, honest appraisals. This week they are on reruns and are covering the old stories. Geez, OJ sounded guilty, didn't he? Anyway...here in my blog land we talk about the news of the current day. There are no days off for breaks in a million dollar mansion. 1). I see that Christie, the New Jersey Governor, isn't going to run for president. He said that it 'just isn't time.' I know it shouldn't be a factor, but he is a really, really, really big man. He makes CC Sabathia look like Olive Oyle from the old Popeye days. Don't you think that might come up if he runs for president? Someone was mentioning that his inability to control himself had to be a factor on how he runs things. I'm not sure I agree. I do know that I might have mentioned something about it in some blog, somewhere along the way because I'm a moron like that. 2)....

Losing some precious things in life has afforded me a perspective on sports. I wish it weren't that way, but it is. Last night Derek Jeter struck out with two on and two out. The message boards today are riding him hard as a choke artist. Here comes a little of the perspective. A baseball player is great if he succeeds 3 out of 10 times. Jeter's batting average in clutch situations is right about there at .300. Last night was a odds-on certainty. Yet why he is successful is that he has been up at the plate, swinging for the fences, in that very situation way more than almost any other guy. That is what makes him a success. It's not that he gets a hit every time. It's that he puts himself into position to succeed. And what does he do when he fails? He handles it with grace and humility. He congratulates the pitcher for beating him to the spot. He looks ahead...be it the next day...or the next year...for his next chance to succeed. See why I love baseball? It breaks life ...

Hanging around on the outskirts of the construction industry as I do on a daily basis often runs me smack dab into people who know the Fazzolari name. The statements that begin with, "Do you have cousins in Gasport," is usually followed by a roll of the eyes. The one's that start with, "Is your brother Jim?" Are also met by the roll of the eyes and a few great stories. But the one's that are most uncomfortable these days are from the old-timers. "Is John your Dad?" someone asked me today. Damn. It's not that I don't think of my Dad every day anyway, but when you aren't ready for it. "Dad passed away last year," I said. Saying it sucks. Thinking it sucks. Knowing it happened sucks. "Ahhhh, no," the guy said. "That's too bad. Your Dad was a good man." And that was it. A good man. First off, yes he was. A really good man. A great man. Secondly, isn't that all we aspire to be? I thought of the weekend a...

For the 8th time in the last 16 days someone in Buffalo has driven into a building. I'm not kidding. And it's not funny. There have been fatalities involved. A couple was killed as they ate their cheeseburgers at a chain restaurant. A man looking to kill himself drove into a fire hall. A potential drunk drove into a different chain restaurant. Last night it was someone on drugs, evidently. As luck may have it, I have a little experience when it comes to such matters. I once drove into a house. Let me set the scene. We were all living in Mill Valley, California. I didn't have my driver's license, but since I was 18 years old, my brother John, who did have his license figured that I could move the car three feet in the driveway. He was wrong. John pulled into the drive and ran into the house to get the keys for the other car parked in front. My job was simple. He was going to pull the other car forward, and I would follow suit so that the car I was in wouldn't be stic...

On October 12th the National Book Award Finalists are announced. There will be no forewarning. The entire world finds out at the same time. I wish I could say that I'm happy to be nominated. I really wish that it was for something else, but here we are, and we certainly want to win. Not for the acclaim. Not for any money. Not for anything other than there's a man's life documented in the pages of that book, and that man belongs in Times Square. Can it win? I put this book down once. When I was done reading it. - Matt Snell - Gasport, NY There was so much to say, so much that still needs to be said. Such a void that will never be filled. Is writing about faith, love and laughter something that should be examined by a wider audience? The book is amazing, Cliff. Thank you for sharing your stories. I am sure it wasn’t easy. I laughed, I cried…it is truly something special -Leslie Bauer Kresconko And the date has been out there for me to grab onto. Since the book was sent for co...

Maybe I need a new religion. We've had so many of the old ones around that perhaps coming up with something new might be of benefit. I thought of this because Demi and Ashton are chasing down their Kaabal master to figure out why he put his dinky where it wasn't supposed to go. What can religion do for you in such a situation? Is it all about the confession and the forgiveness? I must be honest here and admit that I'm sort of up against it when it comes to figuring out whether I should face west and bow to the sun, or spin in a circle and chant the name of L. Ron Hubbard. I think of the scene in the Will Ferrell movie where he's running on the track in his underwear asking all the gods for help and he says, "Save me Tom Cruise." And it's weird but it sort of stands to reason that what others believe is sort of foreign and kind of open to scorn. There was an episode of Family Guy where they prayed to Arthur Fonzarelli as a god. Life isn't easy to handle...