Thoughts of a Common Man

It started with the worst show I've ever seen - One Tree Hill - a bunch of 30 year old people pretending to be seniors in high school for about five seasons. By the time they graduated they were middle-aged. All the drama, all the angst, the I love you's - the you-love-him-and he's a jerk. Two men talking about their feelings. Which never happens in real life. If one of my buddies asked me if my heart was in the right place I'd vomit on his shoes. I accidentally watched a couple of the shows because my beautiful wife found the show and had to watch 272 episodes in a row. When she announced that she was done, and that all moments of angst had found a happy end, I was so relieved. We were going to get back to real life. But no!!! They found Friday Night Lights . All of them. A few days ago I got home from work and found that Minka Kelly (an old girlfriend) was on every single television in my house. "Do you think Brandon is going to be with Julie

My buddies Eddie and Barb fed into my reading frenzy a little bit over the weekend by delivering me, get this, a bunch of old newspapers regarding North Collins heroes, the Yankees press clippings, and a few very interesting news stories from the late 80's and 90's. As I've stated a lot of times in the last few years, I love reading the newspaper. Usually it is the very first thing on my mind, and I think it's a little unfortunate to think that the newspaper is going away as far as go-to-media is concerned. My sons have never taken the newspaper off the counter as I used to do. They have all their information on the I-pod, but thanks to Eddie and Barb for thinking of me. The old news in paper form is better than the new news on the computer, laptop, I-pad and I-phone. Also had a few stray Saturday thoughts: On our Saturday morning drive, to get the paper, we saw a squirrel in the neighbor's yard. The dogs were going absolutely nuts and I did them a favor, back

I heard a clip of a woman from Tampa who is the proud mother of 15 freaking kids. A social worker figured out that the kids were living in squalor and their own filth so the state of Florida intervened and put the entire family up at a hotel until they can find a new place for the poor family. The woman doesn't work. The kids don't work. The baby freaking Daddy to ten of the kids doesn't want anything to do with his children. The other five kids all have different daddys. None of them stuck around either. Can you blame them? Any who-ha, this catch of a woman (evidently) was being interviewed on the news. "This hotel ain't big enough," she whined. "We ain't heard nothing from nobody since they took us out of their house. We're waiting. Somebody better come up with something for us soon. Somebody better help me." Doesn't that suck? My stomach turned when she bitched about someone not taking care of her and her 15 kids. There'

Do you know the story of the professional basketball player Ron Artest? He's a multi-millionaire, of course. He's won a championship with the Lakers. He's a pretty good player, actually. Seven years ago he was suspended for 73 games for punching fans, the other players, his own players, a coach and one of the guys selling hot dogs. That was one of 14 total suspensions. He's been to anger management, therapy, group therapy, family therapy and Tibet to get in touch with his inner soul. He even changed his name, no kidding, to Metta World Peace. And still, no one took him off and hauled him away for a nice long stretch in a rubber room. When the Lakers won the championship he thanked his therapist. Seriously. And he looks absolutely ridiculous with World Peace on the back of his uniform. Especially when he's throwing elbows that tear the heads off the guys running up court beside him. Have you seen the film of it? If it happened on the street he&#

My therapy sessions are getting longer. To be honest, despite traction, stretching, the freaking treadmill, rolling around on a ball, and a great group of dedicated professionals, I'm not getting much better. More honesty...I'm better when I do all the work that the therapist sets in front of me and I've done it to the best of my ability, but there's always work and truly, I'm better when I rest. Still, in between visits, I've blown it for some reason. And I've really blown it too, evidently. As I've said, my therapist is brilliant. "Let's figure this out," she said a week ago. "Keep a journal for me, of all your activities, when you wake up and how long you work. Tell me where your pain is and what the degree is like." I worked a lot of hours last week. I traveled a thousand miles. I slept rough. I was tired, but I had to work. I was up at 2:30, 3:30 and quarter to four. I honestly did do my exercises and stretches t

The talk started on Friday. By Sunday everyone was in a real tizzy. "16 inches of drifting and blowing snow," some people said. As I stated a couple of months back I really wanted a snowstorm this year. Just one. A simple storm that would keep us all in the house for a day or so. It didn't happen. It didn't happen this week either. Yet the strange thing about this storm is that all the dog poop is cleaned up and we've actually mowed the grass three times. The freaking temperature was 77 on Friday when people were speaking about the coming storm. That's just weird. And the strange weather just brings all sorts of questions to mind. A couple of nights ago a fireball raced through the Nevada skies and shook windows and shocked the crap out of thousands of citizens. One guy thought it was the end of the world. They felt and heard it in California as well, and the fireball was supposedly no bigger than a washing machine. We are at the absolute mercy

Man, it was a terrific meal. As he was obligated to do my brother-in-law Charles took my son Sam out to dinner at the Outback to pay off his football bet from the 2011 season. I was Sam's plus one and my sister was Chuck's plus one. We sort of ripped poor Charles up when it came to ordering what we'd have. Price was no object. What did I have, you ask? Shrimp on the barbie. Very good. Pecan salad. Excellent. The porterhouse steak with a loaded bake potato. The steak was cooked perfectly. A little short on the sour cream for the potato but the bacon bits and chives helped. Stupendous. I also had a side lobster tail. Every bite of that was perfect. It could have been bigger. I didn't want to fill up on bread so I only had a couple of pieces of the pumpernickel bread, but I give it high marks. It was warm enough to melt the butter. "What is the most expensive dessert you have?" Sam asked the waiter. Chuck didn't bat an eye. The waiter

That was the title of a comment posted to my blog - it was an anonymous comment, of course, on the Trayvon Martin case. The guy who posted it said: "You're a liberal and a coward, that's why you jumped all over the case because you just listen to the liberal media." Funny. I'm the coward and the guy or gals post was anonymous. Just found that interesting. Secondly, the liberal media? Where did I get my information to write my Trayvon post? I listened to the 911 Call. There was about 15 minutes of it. My stance on the deal comes from that call alone. I read everything. From Ted Nugent to Rush to Bill O'Reilly to Obama to Dubya and back and I sort of make up my mind from there. It seemed painfully simple to me. Zimmerman called 911. That's a fact. He reported suspicious behavior. Fact. The 911 operator told him to stay in the car, help was on the way. He didn't. Fact. Martin died. Fact. He had candy and iced tea and was unarmed. Fac

Started Saturday morning with a bowl of Apple Jacks and reading the story about the man who beat his ten-year-old stepson to death with a club. The story was continued on page A-4 and instead of turning to the thrilling conclusion, I moved on. Garbage in, garbage out. Negative, horrific, mind-numbing sadness. I didn't want it. Re-read the story chronicled in my last blog about Bruce giving back. Thought about people who've written to me, thanking them for writing something. Inspired to do something good today... ...for someone else. Maybe for my wife who's worked hard all week. Maybe for my kids...who deserve my grace and not a wooden club across the skull. I folded the paper and took the dogs for their ride. Man, they appreciated the gesture. We talked birds and squirrels and bacon-flavored rawhide. Live is better lived from the vantage point of doing something for someone else, but it isn't always easy to do when we get wrapped up in our own litt

This is a blog post by a man who had been injured in an accident...Scott Fedor. He speaks of his experience at the recent Springsteen show in Cleveland. So Cool. “I’ve seen the future of rock ‘n roll, and its name is Bruce Springsteen.” – Jon Landau Cleveland Rocks! It sure lived up to this billing on Tuesday night when Springsteen was in town! My friends and I (Kevin, Mike and Damian) headed downtown to The Q to catch the show. This would be my fifth time seeing him, however, Damian would be taking in his 28th concert (not too bad for a priest)! Beforehand, Lindsey joined us for some dinner and drinks at Market Garden Brewery. The last time I saw Springsteen perform was with Lindsey in 2003. She was hoping I would’ve been able to see him with her in 2009, but unfortunately I was still laying in a hospital bed fighting for my life. So in a way, I expected Tuesday night to be somewhat bittersweet – finally able to see Bruce again, but this time in a wheelchair and on a different j

It used to be that I'd really look forward to Friday evening. I'm not talking the get home, go out to dinner, then going clubbing deals. I'm talking hitting happy hour, a pork chop in every bottle type of drinkfest with friends from work, friends from college, friends from high school, friends who weren't even really friends. Those days are long gone. "You watching Grey's Anatomy?" I asked my beautiful wife. "It's only Wednesday," she said. I actually groaned. The hours are the same. They didn't add any friggin hours to the week so how come the weeks seem so much longer right now? "What're we doing this weekend?" I asked. "Nothing." "Perfect." I actually couldn't imagine stopping for a drink these days. A rum and coke? The coke would keep me awake all night. A few beers? Bloated and even more tired. I wandered around the house after my Grey's Anatomy question. There w

What's up with Ted Nugent? Have you ever really listened to him? What a tough guy. As Howard Stern noted today he talks about being a warrior but when he had the chance to fight for the country he wimped out. "Shit his pants," he told Howard. Anyway, he made news this week...not with a song...he's only written one worth a listen, but with his mouth. He spoke of crimes against him and railed against changes in gun laws... ...that he is imagining. The administration has not made one change. Every Tom, Dick and Manson can still get their hands on a gun and roll down to the store, mall, church, or former place of business and wipe out as many people as they can. The speech was awful. YouTube it. Listen to it. No matter what side of the aisle you fall on, you'll admit that he's a dopey bastard. And to be fair when that nut threw the shoe at Bush I was apalled. Respect the office of the President. It's still our country. Yet when he h

Poached from our Company Journal. I liked it...Thanks, Sharkey! 1. Thou shall not worry, for worry is the most unproductive of all human activities. 2. Thou shall not be fearful, for most of the things we fear never come to pass. 3. Thou shall not cross bridges before you come to them, for not one yet has succeed in accomplishing this. 4. Thou shall face each problem as it comes. You can handle one at a time anyway. 5. Thou shall not take problems to bed with you, for they make very poor bedfellows. 6. Thou shall not borrow other people's problems. They can better care for them than you can. 7. Thou shall not try to relive yesterday for good or ill, it is forever gone. 8. Thou shall be a good listener, for only when you listen do you hear ideas different from your own. It is hard to learn something new when you are talking, and some people do know more than you do. 9. Thou shall not become "bogged down" by frustration, for 90% of it is rooted in sel

So for the second time in three years I attended a Springsteen concert alone in Albany. For those of you who read Oh Brother! The Life & Times of Jeff Fazzolari you know how important that first concert was for me. It actually may have really saved me. So when the tickets when on sale I bought one. I scheduled work in the area as it is a part of the state that I have to see anyway. In fact, I went to Massachusetts early on Tuesday morning after getting in late on Monday from the show. Anyway...I had different expectations this time. I'd just been to the show, on Friday in Buffalo, so I knew what to expect. (Of course Bruce played a dozen different songs). I just wanted it to wash over me. I wanted to see what Bruce could say about the grief, then and now. I felt different this time. "We're here to talk to you tonight about the things we lose, and to celebrate the things no one can ever take away from us!" Bruce yelled. I was seated beside a 15-year-ol

People need between six and eight hours of sleep a night to be productive human beings. Yet there are plenty of people who claim that they don't need to sleep quite that much. People sort of wear it as a badge of honor as if they sleep less we'll think more of them. Do you ever hear someone say? "I only need three or four hours of sleep a night." Couple of things: 1). If you're sleeping so little how come you're still a freaking mess and 2). You're lying. I wish I slept better at night, but I don't say that I get less than three or four hours a night. I'm definitely in the six to eight range. It's just that my sleep turns fitful at times. Like once a month or so. A buddy of mine likes to let me know that I'm on a cycle of sorts. He isn't being nice. But don't get me wrong: I love sleep. My sole goal of being rich and famous would be to get a nap every day. Keep the money, keep the fame...just let me close the off

So the secret service has a secret. They headed off to a foreign land to make sure all was right for the president, and they hooked themselves up with a few prostitutes where such a thing is not illegal. Allegedly. Lets sort it out, huh? First off, Obama has to feel like an ass. He's heading into a convention and he has to answer questions about such garbage. But I'm sure I would have blamed Bush for such a thing so, the buck stops here, right? Secondly, prostitution is legal there! I remember a trip to Florida a long time ago. It was a Monday night and my companion and I were heading into town to start a two-week vacation. We had a couple of beers over a lobster dinner and then we went looking for some action. Driving around Fort Meyers we didn't see much going on at all. "Beer sign! Beer sign!" Jeff yelled. I pulled into the parking lot and we opened the door to the bar. On our first step in we were greeted with a naked young girl sliding down a st

The News from this part of the world: 1)-Just finished reading about the actress - Alicia Silverstone who allegedly chews her children's food for them and spits it into their mouths. What's the problem? Kathy would still do that for my maniacs if she could. The mother instinct is crazy to me! 2)-My ears are still ringing from Friday night. My back aches - but it really ached going in - and I'm still tired. How does a 62-year old man do it? 3)-I see that Charles Manson was denied parole. I really thought he was going to be set free this time. There are people who still shout that he never killed anyone, but a crazy man. He should be denied parole just by how he looks. 4)-Sad to hear about one of the Gibbs Brothers dying. I think that everyone has a few Bee Gee songs on their I-pod. I didn't even do it in secret. When I sing along though I have a rough time with the high parts. Even with my lovely voice. 5)-Glad they finally arrested Zimmerman in the Tra

I was ready. I told my buddy John that he was in for an amazing show. We laughed a little about how I undersold it. I'm just gonna' say it. Bruce Springsteen is the greatest entertainer...ever. I think it was about halfway through Darkness on the Edge of Town when I leaned into my sister and said: "He's better than the freaking Beatles." And it's not as close as the score might indicate either. 18,000 people stood for the better part of three hours and they laughed, grieved and sang. Mostly they just shook their heads in amazement. And Bruce has been a central figure in my life in a world far away, but there are so many moments when he seems to touch the entire family. Last night, Carrie got him back for us! She laid a single finger on his back as he strolled by. She dove across the seats to do it and the people all around us thought she was out of her freaking mind. She was, is, as we all were. She touched him for me, John, Jim, Corinne, Jef

Tonight, for the 28th time, I will wait for the lights to fade to black, watch Bruce follow the rest of the E Street Band up the stairs, and be blown away for more than three hours. It's been a long time coming. Since November 22, 2009 to be precise. And I'm pretty fired up as you may have guessed because this morning I remembered. I remembered: Seeing the first Springsteen show of my life at the Aud in Buffalo. I was with my brother John, my buddy Tom and the girl I went to my high school senior prom with. Tom wasn't a big Springsteen fan. At the short intermission he went out into the lobby and bought three concert shirts. Lord knows how many times he's seen the Boss since. But I remember one other show Tom went to with me. It was in Long Island right around the time Bruce's marriage was breaking up. Bruce played from about 7:45 to 12:40. He was on the stage doing cartwheels. My college buddy, Rosie, told me to stop clapping because maybe he'd leave.

I have a new college football team. The Arkansas Razorbacks. Yep, a middle-aged dude from Buffalo has chosen the Razorbacks for one simple reason: They did the right thing. Despite the fact that they will suffer a bot of backlash by their rabid fan base. Even though it's going to cost them a lot of money. Given the idea that they will go from somewhere around 11 wins to something like 5. They did what they should do. They fired Bobby Petrino. And they didn't fire him because he stepped out with a 25-year old blonde who wasn't his wife. Petrino isn't the first guy to ever do that, and someone else is probaly doing it right now. They didn't fire him because he rolled his motorcycle with said woman on the back, sans helmet, and then lied about the fact that she wasn't there. Nope, they fired him for something really cool. Because Petrino didn't represent the image that the school wanted to portray. Are you listening Penn State? How abo

And I like Twitter. I like following comedians and hot actresses best of all, I suppose, but there's also a news element to it as well. When the shit hits the fan, there are normally a million people out there offering their opinions. Believe it or not, I haven't tweeted a whole hell of a lot, despite the ever-present need to voice my opinion, which is always dead-on, by the way. Yet this morning, as I checked the feed, I couldn't help but wonder what my brothers might think of Twitter. I'm sure as I'm sitting here that Jim and John are not participating. Jeff would have been active, but he most likely would have been immediately dismissed as a member. Twitter is also good for videos of the Bruce tour. Good and bad, I should say because as I gear up to see the mighty E Street Band on Friday night I must admit that I've peeked at some of the footage. I don't think I'll be disappointed. Yet during these past few days off - I'm seeing if r

Entertained by Ozzie Guillen, the new manager for the Marlins for saying that he was sort of a fan of a man who oppressed millions of Cubans for generations upon generations and was allegedly responsible for many deaths. I don't know much, but I do know that every once in awhile your mouth can get you in trouble. I also know that you really shouldn't voice any sort of affection for Castro or Hitler or Bin Laden or Hussein. The phone rang at our house the other night. Sam was watching the Yankees and didn't feel like talking to one of his friends. Kid: Is Sam there? Me: No, I got rid of him. Kid: You got rid of him? Me: Yeah (long pause) don't tell anyone. The kid gasped and hung up. Perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut. I actually waited for the cops to knock on my door. An hour later I'm watching Friday Night Lights with Sam. Minka Kelly comes across the screen. Me: I dated her. I dropped her to marry your mother. Sam: What are you, nuts

Did you see that shot that Bubba Watson hit at the Masters Golf Tourney this weekend? Watching golf on television can be tedious for the uninitiated. I like to catch it but my beautiful wife will walk in the room and say the same thing every time, with her nose crinkled. "Are you watching this?" A few years ago I was watching sudden death and she changed the channel as the putt was en route to the hole. I screamed and when she changed it back they were hugging the winner. Yet Watson's shot brings a lot of things to mind. I've played a lot of golf and my biggest problem - and a lot of golfers biggest problem - is handling adversity. Hook one into the woods...let's look for it...and try to hit it out...before long you're flinging your club across the fairway and breaking out the mother of all curse words. There's an old adage in golf that an errant tee-shot provides an opportunity for greatness. As I'm apt to do, I apply it to life a bit.

I watched opening day for the Yankees on Friday and after a long layoff from entertaining sports I was treated to a couple of long home runs, bases loaded 4 times, a squeeze bunt, a gun from left field to catch a runner at second, a blown save, some stolen bases, and a couple of close calls. Great game. Not the one I was watching, just the sport in general. They couldn't even ruin it with steroids, for those of us who love it. Anywho-ha...the season preview: National League East: The Phillies will still win it despite the fact that they can't hit a lick. 3 good starting pitchers gets it done in the pansy league. One thing for sure: the Mets won't win. NL Central: I like the Cardinals again. They could implode and lose it to Ryan Fraud and the Brewers or the Reds, but I think they'll hang on. One thing for sure: the Cubs won't win. NL West: Can you say Donnie Baseball? I think the Dodgers shock this division. The Padres are the crap team in this b

Happy Easter to you all...the baseball preview will have to come tomorrow...feeling a lot Christian today. There's been a phrase turning over and over in my tired mind - God's world turning...live while you can...live while you can. Almost sounds like a Van Morrison or John Mellencamp song...maybe it is...but it's a nice phrase to think of on Easter weekend. A friend of mine was telling me yesterday that he was off of work because his brother-in-law: His 'best friend in the world,' dropped dead at his house the other night. "He fell down my stairs and by the time he hit the last step he was basically dead. Great guy," my buddy said, his voice cracking. Unfortunately I am well-versed in bringing up pain in such a setting. I now know what to say in such a setting because some great friends said it to me. God's world turning...live while you can...live while you can... "He lost his wife to cancer ten years ago," my buddy said. "

Spent some time thinking about a guy claiming to be an atheist. Actually one of the guys from Penn and Teller is an atheist and it sort of brought the subject to mind. Kathy also claims to know a guy who paints himself as atheistic so the wheels started turning. I always want to ask the atheists about the starting point. "We were spun out of dust," they might say. "The universe was created by a big bang." Yet where did the dust come from? Who set the big bang in motion? A person who claims to be agnostic is actually someone who is a bit more in the know in my book. Being agnostic is sort of like admitting that you have no freaking idea. You don't dismiss the notion of God out of hand, but you don't buy all in either. What gets me about the people who are atheist and practice it as an art form is that where does the hope come from? If this is it, this is shit. And not having any thoughts of an afterlife sort of sets you up to doing whatever

I'm thinking that there's a blog from last year that has the same title. The Yanks didn't win it all last year. Sunday will be my baseball preview blog....here's a little insight into picking my winner... This will be the Yankees year. Let me explain why: 1). I want them to. 2). They still have Jeter, Rivera and now Andy is back. 3). Cano is one of the top five best players in the game. 4). CC eats more cereal than me and he's still considered a professional athlete. 5). If they win it means the Red Sux didn't. 6). I really want them to. 7). The more times they win the more I can aggravate the non-believers around me. 8). Granderson is a good player and a hell of a nice guy. 9). Jeter has been so oppressed in this life that he really needs a break to go his way. 10). Thurman Munson. 11). I really, really want them to. 12). I can torture Bills and Sabres fans who ended another year title-less. 13). Because everyone loves A-Rod and

Can you imagine how proud Ryan Leaf's family was when he signed that $15 million dollar contract to play quarterback for the San Diego Chargers in 1998? Think of it...15 mil!...your problems are over. Yesterday Leaf was arrested for the 2nd time in 4 days for breaking into people's houses to steal painkillers. He actually wormed his way in and dug through the medicine cabinets - allegedly - to steal the pills. He's dead freaking broke. His career was a bust. Antoine Walker of the Celtics earned $112 million during his basketball career. He filed for bankruptcy and had to lace up the sneaks again to pay his creditors. He also sold his NBA Championship ring. How do you fall so far? Is there anyone out there reading this that thinks they'd have a better go of it with that much cabbage? And then today I spent a lot of time listening to a debate about Cheetah Woods. The one talk show host was saying that Cheetah shouldn't be judged for his marital problem

A weird day. Getting my paper this morning I ran smack dab into two women discussing my book, Nobody's Home . they loved the story, it should be a movie, how much money did you make, you should go on Oprah...all of it. What got me about it is that as I told them about writing the story I got a strange vibe as if I were talking about someone else being the author of it. I loved the compliments, of course, and appreciate everyone who mentions the books to me, but I felt like an intruder in the conversation. "Did I really write that?" I asked myself as I got back to my car. And to top if off, I was heading to Erie and the place where I spent my college days. Good old Gannon University. That sign has been added since I graduated. In fact, the place has changed a lot. But not enough to chase the weirdness. The old dorm. The library steps, Rosie...the TKE house. I walked all around campus. The walk seemed shorter. I passed the parking meters that we used to jump o

I took Spanish for three years in high school and then two years in college. The funny thing about it is that I can't speak a freaking word of the language. I do know the numbers though. Well, actually, I know a few words. Hello-goodbye, things of that sort. I wouldn't say I'm conversational in it though. Yet part of the reason why I can count so well is because in high school we'd play Spanish Bingo for cookies. Our teacher, Mrs. DeMeo would call out the numbers in Spanish, of course, and I'd write down the first four numbers she called and then yell Bingo! She'd ask me to read them back, and with the FREE space and her undying trust she'd declare me the winner. I'd eat the cookie and we'd start again. BINGO! Another cookie. I think I had about seven cookies before she caught on. And the tragic part of the story is that it's the last freaking time I won at BINGO. Lately we have been going to BINGO with my Mom. We usually have sau

So I was texting a buddy of mine and he said something disgusting. "I almost threw up my Apple Jacks," I said. That set him off. He wanted to know why a man of 47 years of age was still eating Apple Jacks. In fact, he thought it was the funniest thing ever and just kept harping on it. Am I not supposed to be eating Apple Jacks anymore? Should I be eating Grape Nuts or Fiber One? Granola? Now I do realize that it isn't the best of choices for breakfast, but I went so long not eating breakfast that I sort of compromised. When I don't eat anything when first waking up I eat lunch as if there's a gun to my head. Hence the Apple Jacks. When we were kids we'd eat an entire box of cereal every morning. Cap'n Crunch, Count Chocula, Franken Berry, Lucky Charms. I remember distinctly that John's favorite was Honeycomb. I was partial to Franken Berry. The one thing that's crazy about it is the price. My box of Apple Jacks was $4.29 Does it cos

Sam hates when I bring a song up on my I-pod, turn the television down and make him listen. I do it all the time with the Stones just because I know he needs to hear them. He sort of likes the sound of Jagger's voice and knows him from that brutal, Moves Like Jagger song. The other day it was Bruce of course. A little Shackled and Drawn . Bruce was nice enough to sing the line, Pick up the rock, son, and carry it on. Indeed. And just singing that line, along with Bruce, to my son, I got the full meaning. I not only thought of Sam picking up the rock from me, but also of me carrying the rock for my Dad. Trudging thru the dark in a world gone wrong That's my other favorite line in the song. "Turn it off, please!" Sam crowed. "It's awful!" But it's not awful. Not even a little. I suppose that there isn't much more that we can do in life then to try and build a legacy of sorts. We spend so much time trying to move the rock from o