Thoughts of a Common Man

Listen, I'm a baseball fan...probably one of the more passionate baseball fans in the world, but man, this made me cringe: In Calgary, a man died early Sunday because he disagreed with another man about the Blue Jays' pitching staff. According to the Calgary Herald, Brian Ludwig was arguing with another man about the Blue Jays' pitchers. The two decided to "take it outside" and as their fight was winding down, a third person came in and threw what witnesses called a "sucker punch." Ludwig was hit on the back of the head and taken to a hospital, where he was later pronounced dead, according to the report. An autopsy revealed the cause of death was blunt force trauma. Scott Robert Hooser, 27, has been charged with manslaughter. Alcohol, of course, was involved. You see, I have a healthy give and take with a bunch of Red Sux fans, a couple of clueless Mets fans, and even fans of the hapless Phillies, and oh yeah, don't forget the World Series...

Every once in awhile a story truly horrifies, doesn't it? Have you seen the photo of the little girl from Niagara Falls who was presumed murdered by two teenagers? It makes you not even want to pick up the paper or turn on the news. "They should have shot those kids on the spot," someone said. "They need to be killed immediately!!!" Someone else shouted on Facebook. Is that the way to go with this? I'm asking. Because we don't seem to have much of a handle on violence in this country. When it happens in our community...it's even more difficult to handle. Still. "Violence begets violence," an old college professor once told me. "If we solve violence through violent means we are celebrating the very act committed by those we are trying to stop." That really made sense to me. When I was an idealistic kid. But man, I was rocked yesterday by the photo of that pretty little girl. I almost agreed with those on F...

I've been at this blog since November 12, 2007. At least one post a day...sometimes two. As my college buddy Rosie described my writing career: "Blah, blah, blah, blah, freaking blah." When I wanted to be a writer a friend of mine, Zane, said: "Shut-up and write." I listened to him. So many words. And the thing about it is that I'm trying to condense the words I'd written into a few hundred so that we can make a book about Thoughts of a Common Man . I thought it would be fun. It's not. "Blah, blah, blah, blah, freaking blah." Yet there are certainly a few realizations. I had never re-read anything. Write it, hit the button, let it out there. Re-reading your own stuff is weird. But truth be told, I've laughed at a few lines. I recruited a few friends to pick out some of their favorites - Thank you Barb - and then I set in to reading. --- It's weird to watch the kids grow up during the time set aside for the bl...

I've never been to the West African country of Togo but there are times when I feel like I could live there. The women of Togo are banding together. They are planning to withhold sex from their men until they get what they want. Come on, now...women don't do that...do they? Yet I find it interesting because I am certain that if women could get their act together they would certainly rule the world. A woman president, you ask? Yep, there would be one. All she would have to do is to convince the other women of the world to do what they're doing in Togo. "Vote for me or else." Come on, men...who would you vote for? You think having gun rights is important? Just wait until the other rights are infringed upon. I'd be interested to see how it all works out as well. The women of Togo are banding together for civil rights. Will all of them be able to abstain? I can almost imagine the scene. "There's a woman on the west side of town who...

My Dad once told me, and I figure that I was about 17 or 18 years old at the time, that 90% of the people "you meet as you walk through life are blatant assholes who are out only for themselves." There are days when I think that Dad's estimate was too low. There are days when I imagine that he was being a bit cynical. Yet on Friday night I read a post from Matt on Facebook as he praised Lance Armstrong. We all know what I think of dear d-bag Lance, right? I've been his biggest critic since about 2000. I saw through him from day one. Sorry. He fit directly into the group of people that my Dad was talking about, and while I didn't have any proof, I just felt it in my heart. He seemed to me to have built his foundation on shaky ground. He struck me as a fraud, a cheat, and in that blatant category. I still might be wrong, mind you, I never met the man, but there's evidence pointing in the direction. But an argument ensued. "He's done so m...

Don't you wish we could use that button from time-to-time in our real lives? Got drunk and made an ass of yourself? CTRL-ALT-DELETE How about that bad relationship? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Grave mistake at work? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Nasty word to someone you love? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Cheat while you were winning 7 Tour De France Competitions? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Then lied about cheating? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Drowned dogs that didn't fight well for you? CTRL-ALT-DELETE Murdered your ex-wife and her companion the waiter? CTRL-ALT-DELETE It would be nice, but life just doesn't work like that. Unfortunately self-knowledge usually appears at the precise moment after you've seriously f-ed something up. It's too bad we can't immediately place our fingers on the exact right buttons to eliminate the mistake. Of course, I've always heard that hitting the CTRL-ALT-DELETE buttons too many times does something to the internal workings of the computer. I w...

Perhaps there should be an expiration date on wedded bliss. I was absolutely flabbergasted by the story of the 70-year-old woman who banged her 80-year old husband over the head with a coffee mug and then allegedly used a piece of the broken mug to slit his freaking throat! Are you kidding me? Is this my future? What the hell did the guy do? Put the creamer bowl down in the wrong spot? And sometimes that's all it takes in a long-term arrangement. I know a bunch of couples who've been together for a long, long time. If you didn't know better you'd think they were mortal enemies instead of partners for life. A few weeks back we were at church and part of the ceremony was to honor a couple that was together for 50 years. Everyone was oohing and ahhing. Except for me. I turned to my Wonderful Aunt Rosalie who is into her 80's and certainly misses my Uncle Herb. "That poor bastard," I whispered. I know, I know...it was church! Yet we w...

On the day when Augusta National finally admitted two women as members Rhianna was on Oprah talking about Chris Brown and how he is the love of her life despite the fact that he gave her a beat down. One step up and two steps back, ladies. First off, on the golf deal. Really? Is it that big of a deal? Why did it take so long? My only problem with it is that one the day I finally get to play Augusta it'll be in the cart with the two women in it right in front of me. The round will take me 12 hours as I wait for them to apply their makeup. (Just kidding, of course). I haven't had a lot of experience playing golf with women. My wife has no interest. I actually took my mother out once and she never got the ball off the ground. She laughed a lot though, and believe it or not I was worried that we were holding up some guy in a Dale Earnhardt cut-off T. My mother should be able to do anything she wants anywhere in the world. And that's the way I break it down. ...

There are a ton of Italian Restaurants on Hanover Street in Boston. I'd heard the stories for years by friends who'd spent time in a few. No one really knew which was the best one so last week my beautiful wife and I just walked the streets and checked the menus posted on the doors. I could have made due at any of the places. Kathy, on the other hand, was searching for a few choices that would satisfy her limited likes. We settled on one and the waiter headed for the table. He was a very dark man and his English was broken as he raced his way through the specials. My mouth was already watering. The aroma of the place was either garlic and olive oil or olive oil and garlic. I hit on the first appetizer. Moments later, I was 15 years old again. You see, we knew that Grandma was making lunch every summer day. A big lunch. We were always invited. "Let's go to Grandma's," someone would mention around eleven in the morning. And off we'd go. The waite...

I've never been much of a car freak. I know guys who can tell you the make and model of a car as it screams down the street at 55 MPH. "That's a '72," my brother John might say to my brother Jim. How do they know? Who gives a poop? One of my dream cars is pictured above. Yep...the Scooby mobile. I'd take that van and have it custom-painted like the van used by the gang as they solved crimes. Or this one: The Wally Wagon from Vacation . Our family had a couple of those. We drove one of my Dad's into the ground. There was so much room. We spilled a lot of food on the carpet of that car. And man all it did was run perfectly. Yet lately I've actually been thinking of one other vehicle. You see as we grew up Dad would take us to the dumps in a Ford pickup truck. I recall one of them being light yellow. I'm sure there were other colors. Dad would set us on his lap and allow us to steer as he coasted down Shirley Road. We all took ...

I will not be a participant in the presidential election this year. I may still vote, mind you, but I swear to God I'm not going to get caught up in any discussions. We've proved it all by now. We're a house divided. People who want guns are willing to shoot those who don't. People who want a free ride are willing to bash the establishment. Those who make million dollar bonuses because they're smart enough to find the loopholes want nothing to do with the downtrodden. There's no sense in discussing it. And it occurred to me that I've never listened to a Mitt Romney speech and I haven't heard Obama say anything in about four years. I'm not interested. The rhetoric of four years ago infuriated me. All the crap we were told was absolute bullshit. None of it really happened, did it? And then we found out that the Palin choice was a scam. Those on that side didn't even believe what she was saying. The end of all of it came for me the...

Check this out. A couple of weeks ago I went to a job site visit at the University at Buffalo. I parked my car in a huge lot and went out walking. When I returned that is what I saw. A broken taillight! I even checked the car to make sure it was mine. And the reason I was so perplexed was because whoever had hit me had taken the time to clean up the broken glass. "Are you kidding me?" I yelled. I texted maintenance and my wife responded with: "It's no big deal." Yet it is a big deal to an obsessive-compulsive man. "I'm not driving around like this for a month," I said. I was tempted to pay a couple of hundred bucks to fix it...immediately! Yet I waited. We ordered the new light. It came in quickly. It sat in the front room for an evening. "Why don't you replace it?" Kathy asked. "Maybe you can do it...it might make you feel like a man." Isn't that nice? So, Sunday morning, after church, I g...

I've been to a lot of Springsteen shows. 30 to be exact. All of them were highly anticipated. Not a single one of them fell below expectations. Wednesday night, about one song in it occurred to me that perhaps I was seeing a special one. Bruce came on doing Take Me Out to the Ballgame . He did a pitcher's windup. The first pitch he threw was a beauty. Thunder Road with just Roy playing the piano behind him. Instantly I thought of my siblings. I thought of singing it without any music playing at all as Jeff worked with me to figure out the words. We'd been on a porch in Fort Meyers, Florida. 25 years ago. So you're scared and you're thinking that maybe we ain't that young anymore. I waited for the next line. Show a little faith there's magic in the night. And there was so much magic. And just as he's been all of my adult life Bruce was in the center of the magic. He sang. He mugged. He ate a hot dog. He mugged some more. He guzzled a beer. ...

My beautiful wife is a bit leisurely in the morning. As we all know, I'm a bit of a nut bag. We both understand that. Things work out most of the time because we don't spend the casual, on her hand, mornings together. I get up and get out and she relaxes with a coffee and a cigarette. We had a full day planned in Boston the morning after the concert. My only agenda was a great Italian meal somewhere and to see a bit of the city. We hit the ground crawling. The day started like this: Coffee Cigarette Coffee Shower Cigarette Coffee Then Kathy was struck with an idea. We'd take that above shuttle to the airport and leave our bags so we didn't have to carry them around all day, and more importantly so we wouldn't have to swing by the hotel to pick them up on the way back. To be fair, I thought it was a good idea. I went along with it as well because I'm not allowed to make decisions that have anything to do with fixing something or directions. One pro...

It really started with the pepper party where Jim took the crown away from Pops in a stunning upset, and truth be told out of the 23 entries 10 of them could have won first without an argument. Believe it or not it was virtually impossible to try all of the entries, but everyone there gave it a go. And the whole love thing continued on Sunday with the softball tournament. The above photo captures some of the fun, but Corinne didn't get into that particular photo because she didn't stop working from 9 a.m. to close. We have one with all of us and I'll get my hand on it sooner or later. I just know that we'll all live off that day for the rest of the year. Friends, family, life itself. Good for the soul. On Monday I went to work despite the fact that I was walking as if there were a big long stick rammed in a bad spot. Every step I took had the following dialogue: "Oh God, Oh God, Oh God." The shots to relieve pain in my groin and hip were right on ti...

30 years ago this September I walked into my dorm room at Gannon University. A couple of days after that I met another 18 year-old Italian-American guy with a last name so long it was shortened into a nickname. Gag turned out to be a lifelong buddy. Fast-forward to Saturday afternoon. Gag's kid and my kid split two orders of Buffalo wings. You see, Michael wanted real chicken wings in Buffalo. He eats them like a champ too, the hotter the better. And the above photo was important to me on a lot of levels. There's something to be said for your kids hanging with your friend's kids. And the trip was important for another reason as well. I'm holding a bottle of Jamesons - 12-year-old Jamesons. It's payment for a bet when the 27-Time World Champion Yankees whipped the hapless Phillies to capture the World Series. We shared the booze at the pepper party. "It's going to be gone," Gag said. "Don't worry the Yankees will win more,...

Well, believe it or not there was another football player in the news over the weekend. Heard about it? I'll try to catch you up. Chad came into the league with the surname Johnson. He was issued number 85 with the Bengals and he liked the number so much he changed his last name to Chad Ochocinco...which if my Spanish is correct isn't even 85. It's ochenta y cinco. Whatever. He was a decent player. Not great, decent, but he was always driving the Bengals crazy. The got rid of him eventually and he sort of bounced around. He was absolutely pitiful last year with New England because he couldn't grasp the playbook. So, he lost his job. Chad blamed it on the fact that the Pats were stifling his winning personality. He even made reference to the fact that he was sick of his name. Chad Johnson signed with Miami. He told his new employer that he was going back to being himself. He even went and got himself married. He would not rest until he was back on track t...

Just another incredible day for the 2nd Thunder Road Memorial Softball Tourney in honor of Jeff. I am having a hard time thinking about all the people who need to be thanked. From people who traveled hundreds of miles...my cousins from Baltimore are tremendous...special thank you to Dave Neisser and Mary Ann for scoring the loot that made the auction a success. And the auction! Terrie, Kim, and about a hundred other people who made such wonderful baskets, and then we just happen to have the most organized person in the world to run it. Corinne is the greatest, but we all knew that. And my college buddies Gag and Terry who made the trip...amazing. (More on Gag's family visit this week). And my siblings...man oh man. And my Mom. And my beautiful wife and kids. The love makes your heart swell to Grinch-like sizes. Jan Mathis ran the tourney itself and umped the games and even called me out without reason a couple of times, but he just went above and beyond. And the Grap...

Remember Christmas when you were a kid? You'd be wide awake, looking at the clock, counting the minutes until you'd get out of bed, right? There was a little of that going into the weekend. The Fuzzy-Palooza was upon us. Of course there was a bit of work mixed in. I shopped for the ingredients, thinking up the pepper recipe with an eye on trying something a little different this year. I have little chance of winning the contest because Pops has turned it into his own personal quest. Reminds me of when Betty Rubble and Wilma Flintstone won the baking contest with their Upside-Down-Flint-Rubble-Double Cake. It isn't about the winning though. We are all well aware that if he were around the guy who started this event would have won it every year anyway. We all like to think we can cook...Jeff was an artist. Yet the entire weekend is about a lot of fun and seeing how many peppers we can stuff in our faces. Sam was beside me as I prepared my entries this yea...

Heard this song today on Sirius XM Radio. Why I decided to blog the lyrics? Because one day, on a return home from college (and I may have written this before) I saw Mom and Dad dancing to the song and Dad singing it. Being married for 124 years to my own beautiful wife I know of what Kenny Rogers was speaking, and exactly how my Dad felt. Kenny Rogers wrote this...just borrowing it. I can't remember when you weren't there When I didn't care for anyone but you I swear we've been through everything there is Can't imagine anything we've missed Can't imagine anything the two of us can't do Through the years, you've never let me down You turned my life around, the sweetest days I've found I've found with you ... Through the years I've never been afraid, I've loved the life we've made And I'm so glad I've stayed, right here with you Through the years I can't remember what I used to do Who I trusted, who I ...

A mad rush here in Fuzzy land this weekend. On Wednesday my wonderful sister-in-law flew down to North Carolina. On Thursday my two wonderful sisters-in-law brought the kids up. John, Farrah and Rocco got out of the car a few hundred feet from my brother John's home and they ran through the grass to where we were standing. Of course John and I lifted them off the ground and hugged them so tightly. Yet there was no time for a long drawn-out scene. Johnny had a ticket to the football game and my boys were waiting for them in our driveway where my beautiful wife was ready to whisk them the last mile to the game. I just had to drive Johnny the 15 miles or so. "Is Bruce still singing?" he asked me as he sat down. My heart leaped in my chest. "Wanna' hear some?" "Yep!" I played him American Land, of course, and then he wanted to hear the new songs. He just kept tapping his feet. I had planned my seeing him again. I scooped all of the wh...

We've all danced to that song, huh? Well, I don't usually dance...it would be more construed as a seizure. Speaking of seizures, what the hell is Randy Travis up to? He was allegedly arrested for drunk driving after crashing his car...a 2nd weird drinking deal with him...but the best part of the story is that he stripped down naked and allegedly told the cops that he was going to shoot and kill them for responding to the allegedly drunken wreck. What always gets me about that is the next day realizations. I have been there once or twice. Back in college I'd get a few reports on things I'd done. That's scary. Thank God it's over for me. I also think of the guy who was allegedly drinking when he drove the Exxon-Valdez into the iceberg. Can you imagine how he felt the next morning? "I spilled what?" How do you live it all down if you're Randy Travis? Smashed car, DWI charges, and freaking naked???? I did what????? Ah well. No...

Man summer is busy, isn't it? I was just thinking about what we have planned in the next couple of weeks and I told my buddy, Gag: "I'm screwed." But looking forward to a little fun and a lot of work. What do you want to talk about? 1). Isn't it crazy that when the news reports something about "the shooter" we don't know which shooter they're talking about? Would that be the guy in Wisconsin or the guy in Arizona or the guy in Colorado? Remember - guns don't kill people!!!! Did you ever hear of someone breaking into a church and punching 7 people to death? 2). Obama and Romney have raised millions and millions of dollars to run for president. You know what might win the election for one of them? If they donated the money to something useful and said that they'd like for that to stand as their statement of election. Sure beats spending all that cash to make stump speeches filled with promises that can't ever come tr...

Another weekend spent with our hearts in our throats at Fuzzy camp. Uncle Jim's birthday was this past week (the 1st we celebrated without him) and Dad's passing was once more acknowledged. So, opening Facebook and seeing the above photo sort of made the air catch in my throat. But I had one thought: Carry it on. And sometimes it seems real simple to me. I recall offering my condolences to someone who was saying goodbye to their own father, and the man said: "I'm gonna' miss him, for sure, but the world would be so crowded if we all lived forever." Isn't that the truth? Yet there was a certain resolve that entered behind the grief of seeing Dad and Uncle Jim, together, looking back at me. I thought of the fact that they took the rock from their Dad - another great in a line of Fuzzy men - and they carried it forward... ...proudly. And it occurred to me that it is our job to do so now. Pick up the rock and carry it on. As I looked a...

Can't hardly wait for the Jeff Fazzolari Thunder Road Memorial Softball Tourney. And it's not just the chance to hang with friends and share a laugh or two. It's definitely not the opportunity to impress others with my limitless athletic skills. Check this out: An autograph from Curtis Granderson of the 27-Time World Champion Yankees will be up for grabs in the auction during the action. And that's what really makes my heart swell up. The people! My friends and family who still love and miss Jeff so much and want to honor him with a wonderful day of celebration. I'm telling you! Jeff would have absolutely loved this event. We have people baking cakes, making peppers, donating treasured sports items, hooking up the music, finding the ball field, sending out letters, printing up flyers, thinking of special gifts and donating their own treasured items for the benefit of Johnny, Farrah and Rocco. How about that? A full-sized signed football helmet by...

...nowhere to run, ain't got nowhere to go. I went to my high school Alumni gathering on Friday night, and I had a great time. The thing that always strikes me about not seeing someone is that you are essentially picking up the conversation where you left off. What you shared with them back then is what you end up sharing with them again. The same mannerisms, the same smiles, the same likes and dislikes. And it's as if time stood still. But it didn't, of course. The hair is grayer. There are definitely a few pouches, but other than that. We laughed about the girls we liked back then. We cringed at the girls who didn't really like us back. We wondered where he is these days, or what happened to her. Late in the evening a classmate...the girl I took to the junior prom, actually - Kris (who still looked great)...broke out the senior yearbook. I read what I wrote to her all those years ago. I was a funny guy. Yet the passage of time is real confusing when ...

The owner of Chick-fill-a has taken a stand against gay marriage. What the hell does that have to do with selling chicken? Don't you think, as a businessman that you'd sell your chicken to everyone and not discriminate? I just don't know what he thought he'd prove by coming out against such an issue. Can't gay people eat chicken too. The guy is a dope. Holier than thou. I hope no one buys his grub. And how do we go from chicken to badminton? One of my buddies referred to this blog and my writing in it as: He's wildly consistent in his evaluation of d-bag behavior. Well, yes I am. It's the reason why I try to behave, so that no one can say that I'm a hypocrite or a d-bag. Yet bad behavior for sure. Teams from the Far East were found trying to lose their badminton matches so that they'd get a better seed in the next match-up. First off, why is badminton in the Olympics? I've played it a couple of times and its kind of dumb, is...

I'm sort of fortunate that I have a job where I get the hell out of dodge every now and again. It's actually good for all of us. The kids tell me that when I'm gone all they do is weep, but I think they relax a bit. The same goes for my beautiful wife. It's actually just the dogs who really, really feel like crying. And I think of my trips out in context of a Bruce line...I'm out in the desert just doing my time. I'm allowed to think a little. I also listen to a lot of music, and that enhances my mood. As I drove on this particular trip my I-pod was good to me. A few songs, in particular, drove my mood. Mellencamp's This Time was the first one that brought a smile to my face. You know it: This time, I really think I'm in love, in love. The smile bringing line was the one that reminded me of Kathy and our early relationship: "You were too smart to believe all the dark lines and I was too dumb to know what I started." It stil...

I had to visit beautiful Ellicotville, New York today to hit a job site. As you can see by the above photo the town is home to Holiday Valley Ski Resort. That's what made me think of the dumbest thing I ever did, and I did it twice. Men were not made to ski down a hill with big plastic shoes. God never intended us to do it, and while some people think it's the greatest sport, I am of the opinion that it's really, really, really dumb. And as we know, my opinion is the only one that matters. You see, the problem started for me about 30 years ago. A lot of my buddies, and most of the good-looking gals were members of the ski club. I wanted to be with them as they went about their fun. How hard could it be? So, at the age of 18, and not yet crippled with leg and hip and back injuries, I rented some ski equipment and hooked up with my buddy Jeffy. For good measure we drank a case of beer first. It didn't do much for my coordination. I was nearly killed when ...

I got my tickets today! Moments after getting my free tickets in hand...given to me by a good man who wanted me to step foot into Fenway...I read about the final Bruce European concert. The E Street Band was on stage for four hours and four minutes. They played 33 songs. Song number 31 was "I Don't Want to Go." There is talk that Bruce and the band are going to try and break some of their records on the Fall leg of the tour. I'm ready! I don't even think I'm going to urinate on Fenway this time. Yet 4 hours may be a bit of a problem for me. The day before the show I have to get a surgical procedure involving needles in my groin and hip area. The doctor assures me that I should be ready to go. "I'm seeing Springsteen in Boston," I said. "Will I be good to go?" "I don't see why you can't sit for two hours to watch a concert," she said. Poor clueless lady. People don't sit for two hours and watc...