Thoughts of a Common Man

The song I listened to on my wedding day...a bunch of times...take a guess who sings it. We brought love, faith and hope into the real world. ' Five more Years! The Real World Mr. Trouble come walkin' this way Year gone by feels like one long day but I'm alive And I'm feelin' all right Well I run that hard road outta heartbreak city Built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity, it was all wrong Well now I'm moving on Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flags unfurled It's just me and you and the love we're bringing Into the real world Into the real world I built a shrine in my heart, isn't pretty to see Made out of fool's gold memory and tears cried Now I'm headin' over the rise I'm searchin' for one clear moment of love and truth I still got a little faith but what I need is some proof tonight I'm lookin' for it in your eyes Ain't no church bells ringing Ain't no flag...

Isn’t There Anything for a 21-Year Old to Do? I sat alone in the soft, warm comfort of my basement office. Just beside the hot water tank, in a comfortable chair, I stared at the green screen of the word processor. The hard concrete walls were echoing the statement that I held in my heart. I was the only twenty-one year old man doing anything even slightly important on a Friday night. The bars were filled with girl-chasing, beer-drinking men, but I was more important than them because I was poised to become the world’s next great writer. I fashioned myself as a combination of Steinbeck and Twain. I had precious little to show for a comparison of this sort, but my work would flow smoothly if I allowed myself such a fantasy. This night was different, however because in the middle of my daydreaming I was finding it difficult to ignore the nagging discomfort of my heart. I wanted a beer. I wanted to taste the smoothness and to quiet the voice in my head. Most of all, I wanted to let g...

Read something the other day that wasn't all that startling. They say that the average adult male speaks about two thousand words per day while the average adult woman speaks roughly nine thousand. Of course there's a lot you can do with stats and it'd be a tough thing to prove, but take my word for it...that's just about right around here. "How was your day?" to Jake. "Great!" "How was your day?" to Matt. "Terrific." "How was your day?" to me. "Sucked." Sam, the great male talker in our house is even getting with the program. We know very little about his troubles. We have one female here. She's over nine thousand words. "How was your day?" I'll say. An hour later. "What're you gonna' do," I'll answer. And I'm not sure what it's all about. The wonderful differences between the sexes. It makes the world go around. Perhaps the whole ga...

The Memorial Day celebrations of my youth were epic. I'm sure I'm not alone in the feeling of excitement as the summer months stretch out before me. When we were kids the party was always going strong. We'd barbecue of course. Dad's epic chicken that was burnt on the outside and pink on the inside, but that only happened every so often. The ribs were more than enough to make up for it. We'd plant the garden, the sun blistering us, but turning all of us dark brown. The brush cuts, the baseball games, endless rounds of golf. It always seemed like the Rocky movies opened on those weekends too. And the parade through town. It's hard to forget the parade through town. All the familiar faces of my father's friends as they marched in uniform. "I know you're a Fuzzy, I just don't know which one," always behind the smile that greeted us. On Saturday night I went to Sam's first game of the baseball season under the lights. He got in the c...

On our wedding day, my beautiful wife agreed with me that we should run this marriage thing on five-year deals. We've actually made it swimmingly through the first three contracts, in some trying times, with little or no room for negotiation. We both signed on without complication. The last deal expires some time next week. We are both a little unsure about the day because unless we look at the plaque commemorating our nuptials neither of us knows if we were married on the 30th or 31st. Whatever. "This is a walk year," I said the other night as we settled down to watch a movie with that wimpy-looking Wahlberg guy. (Why do we only see movies with Wahlberg or Gosling or Damon or Affleck?) "Are you re-signing for five more years?" I asked. "Yeah, I'm in," she said as she watched Wahlberg lift weights. (She didn't even glance in my direction). "Are you sure?" I asked. "There might be someone better suited for you ou...

Matt is 19 years old today. And the sun is shining bright. The Sabres are gonna' win the cup next June. The Bills will win the Super Bowl in February. All of that will have to wait, of course, until the Oakland A's shock the world with their World Series title in October. He's been consistent. And it's funny because coincidentally I leafed through a bunch of stuff yesterday and found a lot of things I wrote back when I was twenty years old. You aren't going to see much of it. Because it's short-sighted, and it's filled with pie-in-the-sky dreams, and earth-shattering drama. And that's okay because the world was stretched out before me, as it is for Matt right now, and it's not really fair to peak ahead. Life needs to be lived. And Matt has lived a remarkable one thus far. A good kid with crazy, wild dreams that most likely won't come true. Because the A's suck. The Sabres won't ever win. And neither will the Bi...

The Gow School invited us to participate in the awarding of the Jeff Fazzolari Memorial Scholarship . Even better, they fed us first. I really need to eat spinach salad more often. We headed to the gym on a sweltering hot day after meeting some of the people who loved Jeff in a work setting. Brad, Paul, Gayle, Kathleen and many others stopped by to hug us. Corinne was her usual fantastic self, and Mom smiled through eyes that threatened tears. But there's no tougher Fuzzy than Mom. Not even close. I presented the award to a student who met with me at the first book signing I did for Oh Brother! The Life and Times of Jeff Fazzolari. Ibrahim Kalla is not from our country, but he told me a story about being welcomed to Gow by Jeff. He cried at the book signing. I remember signing a book for him and giving him a hug. "I loved your brother," he told me back then. I didn't remember him until I saw him on Friday. I was happy they chose him as the student rec...

Did you happen to hear the pastor from North Carolina who ended his sermon by calling Obama a baby killer and a lover of queers? I'm telling you. It was really disturbing. Listen to it on You Tube. The thing about it is that you might be against the whole gay marriage thing. I sort of let my thoughts be known a few blogs past. This one isn't about gay marriage. It's about sermons. The pastor basically went off about the Bible being against it. God being against it, and most importantly for those listening...the pastor being against it. When people stand up and speak and include themselves to be right there alongside the Bible and God there are real serious problems with reality. And the Bible? I know that there are people who really study it and quote it when it suits their agenda, but there's a lot of weird stuff in there. The Ole Testament is filled with rules that, if enforced today, would result in severe jail sentences. Beat the wife, stone those you ...

People come from all over the world to glance at the power and fury of Niagara Falls. A daredevil is going to walk over it on a highwire later this summer. He's pissed they're making him wear a safety harness. Over the last couple of days the rushing water has been in the news because people are jumping in to try and kill themselves. One did it and the other was saved. Goofy bastard can't even kill himself by jumping into Niagara Falls? That's a loser, right? And none of it is funny. The Buffalo News today told us all about how frequently it occurs. A whole bunch of times from the U.S. and Canada sides. I don't think that's how I'm going. In fact, I've crossed off diving into Niagara Falls and anorexia as two of the things that won't get me. I worked across from the Falls years ago. My brother John worked with me that summer and we sat in the park across from one of the wonders of the world and he said the same thing every day. ...

I was standing in line at a fast-food joint one day last week- Wendy's - (Go Figure) - waiting on lunch during a trip out of town. The guy behind me was wearing a Yankee hat so I commented about the lack of hitting (A-Rod is stealing 30 mil a year as is Tex). The guy answered me with something about how they'd turn it around eventually. I started to agree when my thought was interrupted by a groan and a shout from the guy's son who I pegged to be about 15 and mentally retarded. "I told you not to yell things," the father said to the boy. "I'm sorry," the guy said to me. "That's okay," I said. "Do you know my Dad from work?" the kid yelled at me. Once more the father tried to hush the kid, and once more he apologized to me. "That's okay," I said again. "I know your Dad because he's a Yankee fan." "I'm a Yankee fan too," the kid shouted. The Dad was awfully uncomforta...

Woke up at 4:17 with that question in mind because my windows were open and one son-of-a-bitch was singing, non-stop, and it wasn't Born to Run . It was more like that rap crap that drives me crazy. I'd have shot him off his perch if there were a couple of factors that went my way. Like having a gun. Like knowing that I couldn't shoot straight at all. Like finding the bastard. So I tried to enjoy it, but honestly the bird was singing like my beautiful wife. Off-key and confident. So I turned to the phone. "Do birds sleep?" I typed into Google. And what's amazing to me is that: 1). I was up a couple of hours before I needed to be and I had the presence of mind to wonder if birds actually sleep and 2). The damn Google machine had an answer for me in less than two seconds. Now I'm not sure what I was planning to do with the information. I guess, in the back of my mind I was looking for something like: "Birds like to sleep from 7 p...

Walked out into the bright sunshine on Sunday morning and after saying my hello's to those above thought of one thing: I should be golfing. Damn. Truth is, though, I'm not even tempted to take a couple of practice hacks. I feel that shitty. Yet there were so many things that crowded into my head for a blog that I decided to do a little clean-up. 1). The trial of the doctor here in Buffalo isn't exactly riveting for me. The good doc is on the stand now telling us his side of the story on how he ran down the girl and didn't feel compelled to stop. He's gunning for a little sympathy, here, folks. After all, his $100,000 Mercedes got ruined. Have a heart, jurors. Throw away the key. 2). I'll Have Another is all set up for the Triple Crown. I love all the stories of the poor, downtrodden owners of the horse who bought the animal for $11,000 and now are set to make millions. America. What a country! My only up close and personal horse activity happened i...

I have my own reason for writing this down today - it's from the Van Morrison song. Another great artist, by the way. The word on the street is that he was writing the lyrics to God. The song always makes me think of my Dad. Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one else above you? Fill my heart with gladness Take away all my sadness Ease my troubles, that's what you do For the morning sun and all its glory Greets the day with hope and comfort too You fill my life with laughter Somehow make it better Ease my troubles that's what you do There's a love divine And it's yours and it's mine Like the sun And at the end of the day We should give thanks and pray To the one, oh, to the one Have I told you lately that I love you? Have I told you there's no one else above you? You fill my heart with gladness Take away all my sadness Ease my troubles, that's what you d...

Given the history of the Kennedy family I gotta' think that when they all get together they look back and figure: "All things considered, 1963 wasn't a bad year." Seriously, think of it. JFK, Robert Kennedy, Ted's late night swim, the ski accident, the rape, JFK Jr's. plane, and now RFK's son's wife hanged herself because he was such an ass to her and she drank too much and the demons finally won. And I suppose that every single family across the land has had some bad stuff happen, but man they know how to get it done there, right? All spectacular, crazy...you gotta' read this...sort of drama. JFK was blown away before I walked on the planet and I certainly don't recall the circumstances of Bobby's death or Ted's drunken night of death, but like everyone else I've read a lot about all of them. And you know what? They all seemed to be guys I wouldn't have liked very much. Very self-entitled, very rude, very self-i...

I hear that the Juice is looking to break loose of jail. His lawyers have prepared a motion to get him out of that 9 to 33 year charge for robbery and brute force when he tried to get his memorabilia back from some bad guys in Vegas. I say we get on board. Remember the trial for the double murders? Wasn't that great television? Al Cowlings, Chris Darden, Greta, Marcia Clark, Kato, Faye Resnick, Cochran...man those were the days. I worked with one specific company back then. I shared an office with a black guy and we put the trial on the radio and laughed and cackled and talked back to whoever was telling the most lies. We were both of the opinion that the Juice was, indeed a murderer, but there was something strange about all of it, wasn't there? Television every night tries to fictionalize something so powerful and riveting as the OJ case. There was a low speed chase, violence, phantom golf swings, a run to McDonald's, cut hands, bloody gloves, sex, power, fame...

It's almost comical now. One of my buddy's asked me today if I was happy being an old man. And I gotta' tell you, it sure feels that way somehow. We need to backtrack to January, of course. I was just getting through the rehab on my knee. I was going to be able to golf, no doubt. The Apes were going to suffer as were the Baltimorons. And bam. The guy hits me at the stop sign. Evidently herniated discs take a while to heal. Going to therapy was pointing me in the right direction but I needed to be patient, I was told. Perhaps golf in May. We're over halfway through May. There will be no golf in May. The epidural shot for the back will happen the first week of June. "You need a driver," the doc told me. I don't know if I'll be able to talk the driver into dropping me at a job site. Yet, the doc also told me more. "That pain in your groin is weird," he said. "Lie down a minute." He pushed outward on my ankle. ...

Wow, Josh Beckett is a true dork, isn't he? Let's recap. Last year he was the bandleader of the chicken and beer in the clubhouse as the team tanked. After the season was over he was more concerned with finding the snitch than apologizing for his obviously selfish antics. Cut to the new year. I must admit I was a little worried because high-priced athletes usually perform best when they feel the world is out to get them or they are in a contract year. Beckett isn't in a contract year. He will get $17 million for his 30-to 35 starts. Evidently, he doesn't care if the world is out to get him. You see, Beckett called in sick on one of the starts, saying that he had tightness in his back. Damn, good work if you can get it. I now have a bum hip to go along with my herniated discs and I'm still climbing ladders. Anyhow, he was granted a day off, and then the team had a day off after playing a 17-inning game that they lost because they ran out of pitchers and...

So, Obama stepped out on a limb and basically said that gay was okay as far as marriage goes. It's a lightning rod issue for a lot of people and as I try and get my head around what it means, I struggle, really struggle to figure out how it can generate so much hate. 1). Isn't it strange that the party that wants less interference is interfering on such an issue? 2). If two gay guys get married, or two gay girls get joined in holy matrimony how will it change my life? The man and woman union seems a bit cantankerous as well. 3). Who's business is it anyway what people want, like, or don't like? 4). Who am I to say how you can spend your day? I get one vote in all of this. I won't try and change yours. Leave mine alone. 5) Everyone should enjoy the love and companionship of their "soul mate" or the person that makes them happy. So, that's basically my stand. And someone mentioned to me that it was against my religious beliefs. Religion...

When I was a senior in college I spent a lot of time drinking beer and playing golf. A bunch of us listened to the Born in the USA record over and over and over and over again. One guy loved the song, Darlington County and in particular the line: I saw Wayne handcuffed to the bumper of a state trooper's Ford. And all the crazy things about being a pretty irresponsible-thought-we-were-the-coolest-idiot comes rushing back to me when I hear Matt making plans for the weekend and/or watching him post self-indulgent things on the Google machine. And let me tell you, we did some crazy things. I remember painting the viaduct with some buddies in the summer following my senior year in high school. We painted "Rolling Stones" across the 18' high bridge after drinking a few beers. We were sitting in the church parking lot, on the paint cans when a cop pulled in to ask us what we'd been doing all night. "Just hanging out," we said. The paint dripped off ...

This is one of the most beautiful stories about mothers love. It was written for Good Housekeeping Magazine in 1933 by Temple Bailey. This is a story we should all read once in a while so we remember to respect our mothers for their love and guidance. "Is this the long way?" asked the young mother as she set her foot on the path of life. And the Guide said: "Yes, and the way is hard, and you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning." The young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, she fed them and bathed them, taught them how to tie their shoes and ride a bike, and reminded them to feed the dog and do their homework and brush their teeth. The sun shone on them and the young mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this." Then the nights came, and the storms, and the path was sometimes dark, and the ch...

On Friday I went to a job in a town far away and was introduced to a young guy who's responsible for safety on a big job with a number of contractors under his control. I had never met the kid before but he was very hard-working and sharp. He explained that he wanted to learn a few tricks from me but that he thought things were in "pretty good shape." Well, the job was actually kind of a disaster. Too many people in too small of space doing whatever the hell they wanted to do. So, we got started. I yelled at a few guys, joked with a few more and tried to get the kid to see what I was trying to do. The inspection took well over two hours and I took him off to the side to give him sort of an overview. And he was looking at me with wide-eyes as he tried to write down some of the things I was telling him. And it hit me. He was me back in 1988. Even the jobs were similar. In '88 I was in New Haven, Connecticut trying to find my way on a job with a supervis...

...She said we were just friends. Did you see the cover of Time Magazine with the four-year-old kid latched on to his mother's breast? They were both standing and the kid was smiling as if to say, "See what my mommy does for me?" Now I don't know what the article says. I actually read just a little bit about it. I guess the woman is explaining that being a latch parent makes the kid stronger. She advocates letting the kid suckle for much longer than the 6 months or so that a reasonably stable woman might do. She also feels that it is to the kid's advantage to share her bed with her for the same number of years. Like Ted Bundy's Mom did. Seriously, does this sound right to you? I can't imagine a mother picking her son up from kindergarten and giving him his afternoon snack during the car ride home. Obviously there are health benefits to breast-feeding...that's what they say anyway...but taking a thermos of breast milk to your junior high lun...

As a male in a back-biting environment with friends and brothers that are always ready with the quick put down I have had to arm myself with a couple of fat jokes. I use them all the time. Me: Are you losing weight? Unsuspecting Foe: Yeah, I've lost a few pounds. Me: You must be a B-cup now. Or Me: You have something on your chin. Unsuspecting foe tries to wipe the imaginary item away. Me: No, the third one down. Of course, we live in a sensitive society. We have to watch what we say to one another particularly in a work setting. Of course I work around construction guys most days so the rules sort of don't apply. The other day I watched an ironworker with a bit of girth to him bite into a cheeseburger off the roach coach. "I can just hear you getting fatter," I said. That is a David Spade line from one of the greatest movies ever... Tommy Boy . Damn. I miss Farley. Damn I miss the guy I saw it on back-to-back nights with on the weekend it came o...

Any kid that grew up in the 70's loved the Welcome Back Kotter show. I'd be willing to bet that most of the young people liked Vinny Barbarino because he was so freaking stupid. Turns out the actor that played him might be a little dopey too. The story goes that John Travolta, a movie star in every sense of the word, who made about a billion dollars acting, needed a full-body massage. He is being accused of being the masseur as well, allegedly groping the man who was giving him the massage. First off, I'm not being weird here, but I don't think I'd feel real comfortable having a man massage me. Perhaps I'm not hip enough, but it would be a little weird. Sorry. In fact, as luck might have it I have a bit of experience in this regard. Back awhile ago I went for a therapeutic massage and was greeted by Greg. It was through a physical therapy program so shut the hell up Pops and Renaldo and Larry and Gag. Anyhow, Greg broke the news to me that he wa...

Man if I hear one more sports show talking about the tough time that athletes have adjusting to having nothing to do with their millions and millions of dollars as they struggle to get into the swing of not being cheered and adored, I might puke. "It's difficult," one talking head was saying. "The thousands of cheering fans, the public adulation, the steady million dollar paycheck...those things stop coming in...and then the poor athlete is left to struggle and try and figure out what he can do from day-to-day. You can only do so much surfing, or play so many rounds of golf." Boo-freaking hoo. Give me a break. I'm sorry. I don't have a ton of sympathy for the poor downtrodden ex-athlete. How many people have actually stood up and clapped for you when you did your job well? How many $100,000 paychecks have you cashed? Now, of course, this is all coming from the story about Junior Seau and while I feel bad that he wasn't able to find his ...

"What am I having for dinner?" Sam asked me at ten o'clock on Saturday night. "Are you kidding me?" I asked. I was actually on my way to bed to allow the 27-Time World Champion to piss me off again. No Mariano all year and everyone but Jeter is swinging a wet noodle. "I didn't eat anything at the party," Sam said. "I wasn't hungry then and there's nothing to eat in the house." Which was an absolute exaggeration, of course. There was plenty of food. We were plum out of chicken fries though so hence the aggravation. "I'm not cooking you dinner at 10 o'clock," I said. Ten minutes later I was making a pizza. So I rose early on Sunday and headed to the grocery store. I'd fix their asses. It was at this point when I thought of my Mom and Dad spending every last dime they had feeding 6 (and I'm sorry here siblings) pigs that ate themselves to pain at every meal. 30 pork chops for dinner? 20 sandwic...

I remember when I was young and hanging out with my grandparents. Knowing that they were up in their 60's I was scared, of course, that the clock was running down. "67! Man, that's a long time," I used to think. I don't quite think the same way now, of course. It calls to mind one of my favorite Grandpa lines. I know I've used it before. It was the day before his 80th birthday. "Geez, 80...I don't know if I want to live to 80," I said. "You do when you're 79," Grandpa answered. I imagine that Bob Seger today is rooting for 68 because he just turned 67. And that blows my mind. I remember back in the real early 80's when Seger blew through town on his Against the Wind tour. I wasn't allowed to go to the concert. A few of my friends did. My wife taunts me with it because she went all those years ago. Seger played two shows on back-to-back nights. I still have never seen him play live. One of these days. And...

One of the great lessons of my adult life was learned when I finally figured out that no matter how much you love someone you can't make them behave the way you want them to behave. You might see it all so clear, and you might know what needs to be done, but you might just as well stay quiet about it because it's nearly impossible to give someone everything they need. Little story. About twenty years ago I worked with a guy who by all accounts was a great guy. He was always cheerful, had plenty of times for jokes, and seemingly did well for his wife and kids. He was a big man too - about 6'5" and well over 280. He had one problem. A real bad back. I'm talking a back that brought him pain every day of his adult life. He went through all of it. Pain pills, surgery, therapy, rehab, more surgery. He was always struggling to get on top of it. He went to work every day. He never bitched. He never got on top of it though. It killed him. He shot himse...

There are millions upon millions of really stupid people in the world, aren't there? And it's all relative, by the way, there are people much smarter than me that believe that I'm stupid and in a lot of instances they are correct. But what do you think when you see this photo? Evidently this is a shot of a very tan woman from Pennsylvania who is being charged with allowing her five or six year old kid to go tanning in one of those stupid freaking beds. If it's true, she should be charged. Hell, they should just charge her for thinking she looks good. Or how about this guy? I don't really care how people look. Hell, I don't even care how I look most of the time, but WTF as the kids say. There has to be a reason, right? Not sure what look this guy was going for either. Or this one: No, that is not me from my younger days, but in one of the above two photos I must tell you that one of the guys shown is smarter than me. Just ask him. No explan...

This was sent to me by a principal...it was written by a principal. It was a lot like a speech I gave about a year ago. Every kid heading out the door should read it! The principal's name is Michael Smith and this wasn't used by permission. 1). Life stinks. It’s hard and complicated. Nothing about life even remotely resembles what you see on commercials or in vacation brochures. Life isn’t a sitcom. It’s a drama. Or tragedy. Depends on how lucky you get. Your parents and grandparents have traveled a difficult path to get you here, so now it’s your turn. Hold on, it’s going to be a bumpy road. 2). Happiness. Today you are happy. There will be hugs. And gifts. And cake. Tomorrow you will wake up unemployed and deeply in debt. Happiness will have left the building. This situation will improve for some of you. Others will continue to wake up unemployed and deeper in debt for years to come. I paid off my last student loan at the age of 35. I got luck...