Thoughts of a Common Man

Life is 90% about just showing up. I tell my kids all the time: "Show up and shut up." The Bills have a Pro Bowl Defensive Tackle, Marcel Dareus. He makes about 10 million dollars a year. He needs to really show up 16 times in a 52 week year. Against the Dolphins Dareus was suspended, by his own coach, for the first quarter. That suspension came down based on the fact that Dareus was habitually late for his meetings during the week, supposedly all season long. The boss dropped the hammer. It reminded me of when the kids were young. I'd give them until 9 a.m. on Sunday mornings to empty all the garbage cans into the big can in the kitchen. As is human nature, they were scrambling to do it at about 8:58 each Sunday. One morning Matt got to it at 9:02. When he finished I broke the news that he wasn't getting his allowance. He was late. He broke the deal. "Being a little rough on a 7-year-old, aren't you?" Kathy asked. "Absolutely ...

I was handed a couple of I-Tunes cards for Christmas. I had one CD in mind...Natalie Maines. She has a wonderful voice and I had heard her sing a couple of songs on Howard Stern...so I ordered it on my phone. It was available to listen to...6 minutes later. Isn't that incredible? And I did listen to it and was immediately impressed with each song. So I sent Natalie a tweet to thank her for making the CD. She replied, thanking me for buying it. Isn't that crazy? I've always had a soft spot in my heart for her anyway as her band was basically ruined because she voiced her opinion about George W. and was threatened with bodily harm. Evidently her right to free speech isn't quite as important as that duck dudes is. And perhaps everyone should just shut-up about what they think and feel, but the basic difference being that she is of a profession where protest sort of is part of the job description. Yet the instant voice that everyone has is best illustr...

I'm starting to move around a little better...which is good, of course, but it has led me to different places in the house where clutter has been allowed to build. An O.C.D. dude with a new year dawning does not get along with clutter. It started in my room and the book shelves. They are becoming overfilled and there are a lot of people out there who are of the mindset of tossing them into the trash...I could never do that. "You won't read them again," my beautiful wife explained. "But they need to stay," I said. "They are memories." So I organized them a bit. Then there are my hundreds and hundreds of CD's. All the music is now on my I-pod or phone, but I can't just discard those CD's, right? They are sorted nicely. I don't know about you, but I'm not good with buying music this way. It's so impersonal. Yet at least I am still buying my music. Way too many people simply steal it. Tell me how that is possible. ...

So, we're getting there, right? 2013 is almost in the books...and as you go through the year end lists and all the review, with an eye on making 2014 the greatest year ever, just remember to temper those expectations a little. Shall I make some predictions? (Sam loves when I predict things because he saves the blog and brings it back and beats me over the head with what I have wrong). 1). I said 49ers over Broncos for the Super Bowl. I'm good with that. I'll stick right there. 2). I said the Bills will finish 6 & 10...they are one final loss away from making that come true. 3). The 27-Time World Champion Greatest Franchise in the History of Organized American Sports - the New York Yankees will get title Number 28 this year. Robinson Cano will openly weep before each game as a Seattle Mariner. 4). We lost James Gandolfini this year and that still makes me shake my head. There aren't any actors out there I wish harm to, but there will be a couple of shoc...

I'm not a hard guy to shop for. I only like a few things and I'm not real quiet about those passions. If you buy me something with the inter-locking NY in blue on it, you'll probably be all right. The 27-Time World Champion logo will also get you extra points. This year I got a few Yankee mugs and Yankee ball markers for golf and a Yankee tool to fix ball markings on the green. (That won't get much use as I hardly ever make a mark on the green...my ball usually goes screaming in, but read it and weep Grape Apes - it goes with my Yankee putter!). I also like Springsteen and there are usually items related to the god of music that make an appearance. But the gift of the year this year was simple: The gift of reading. My kids each bought me a book. My wife grabbed me the new Stephen King Novel (She was real worried that I'd see it before Christmas, but I stayed out of the book store). In all I gathered 8 books to read...and I spent a few minutes try...

There was a moment, with a house filled with my in-laws when I turned around and spotted a two-foot tall kid clutching a blanket who was sort of tugging at me. "Where's Melky?" He asked. "You don't want to meet Melky," I said. What I really wanted to ask was: "Who the hell are you?" And I'm not sure if I'm getting too old or what, but I can't keep track anymore. There were so many kids running around...and they have so much damn energy...and their voices are piercing. "Have you seen Landon?" Someone asked me. "Michael Landon?" I asked. "Which one is Landon?" I got a weird look. Hell, I don't even remember how old my kids are. They like to play the: "What grade am I in game?" Sam is in 8th. When they asked me a few weeks ago I honestly guessed: "Sixth?" So, you see, I'm at a distinct disadvantage when new kids are introduced on the scene. Then I took to p...

My big sis posted a photo of Dad the other day. Just a beautiful shot, right? And it occurred to me that in the photo that he was about the same age that I am now. And thankfully, we all shared those days with him. And it got me thinking about Christmas. And life. And love. And what happens after it appears to be gone. And like the Grinch my heart started to grow. Because I've been fortunate. So damn fortunate. We are all just chasing love. When you're standing ten deep in a line at a department store worried about getting somewhere else to buy something else you're doing it for someone you love. When you're waiting for the damn thing to pop up out of the turkey at the same time that the potatoes are ready for you to mash them... ...yeah...love. When you're loading the car and sitting there waiting for the wife and kids to get in so that you're not late for the next stop, your patience waning... ...remember the love. My Dad's...

This has been a strange year. A lot of sitting on the sidelines, not getting caught up in too much of the Christmas rage. One of my work buddies sent me a message immediately after the surgery. "You're fortunate to have some time to just sit back and think. Cherish it." Yeah. Just wanted I needed. More time to think about things. Yet he was right. It is fortunate. You're kind of watching the world move with your own movements a bit limited, and a lot of Christmas through the years rushed back to me. There were the Christmas' of our youth. Wild, elaborate celebrations that left me shaking my head about the hard work and generosity of spirit that Mom and Dad designed and carried out. The pizza at Grandma Fuzzy's...too hard to even try and duplicate that. The two dollars in the card from Grandma...Grandma and Grandpa Schryver's arrival and just hanging around, playing board games. Laughing and eating and buying presents and hoping that the presents ...

There are just so many days when I think about Dad and all the things he taught me. Basically every day. And now that I'm older I find his voice in my voice more often than not. I see his face in my face when I look in the mirror and shake my head thinking things are tough. But he taught all of us to battle through. More than anything else it was his greatest gift to his children. Keep punching. And there are certainly moments, like this morning, when I think: 'Man, there could have been so much more.' But what was there, and is still there, is so much to be thankful for. I was talking to my brother the other day and a Dad story was shared and laughed over. "He certainly left it all on the table," I said. "Oh yeah," my brother said. "He squeezed a lot out of his years." As I hung up the phone I once again wished for more, but when you're given a tremendous gift it's really impolite to wish, after enjoying every...

I had one decent day early in the week in the middle of being extremely frustrated. The reason I felt all right for a few hours? I received a few work-related calls. Things I could help people with. I actually had to think a few things through. I relayed the good feeling to a buddy of mine: "It's amazing we get self-worth from our work," he said. "Part of the Catholic guilt trip." I laughed. Then, in a matter of minutes, the Today Show ran a story about the EPA big shot, John Beale, who collected a ton of money while calling off of work for years, telling his superiors that his time was short because he was busy with his top secret job working for the CIA. I ain't kidding!!! Years and years!!! He collected a huge pay check. He was paid tremendous bonuses. He never once showed up. He had never done a lick of work! For years! It's an incredible story. It's one of those real head-scratchers and it was stated that he'd while aw...

I must start by saying I'd never seen the show. I'm not much for the reality stuff. Yet old Phil Robertson is getting attention, huh? Some are clamoring for his right to free speech. He received that. He said it. He's not in jail for expressing his opinion. So that's sort of out the window. But he might lose the gig, right? Well, that's his employer's right to choose. You can say whatever you want, but sometimes there are consequences, right? If any of us went on a similar rant we might face the loss of employment. It's that simple. As for what he said? Who really cares? He can say it. He can believe it. He can rent billboards and place them at every highway exit if he wants. That doesn't mean he's right. Doesn't mean he's wrong either. Yet the thing that always galls me is when someone tries to impose their will on a large percentage of people who they don't know. What if someone declared that pasta-eating Yanke...

Been chasing another great television series since the Breaking Bad phase of our lives. Nothing yet. We watched the first few episodes of a couple of them, but they were a little weird...didn't want to invest in them. Jake showed up in the living room the other day: "You wanna' try American Horror Show ?" "I'm just sitting here," I said. I was actually reading, but never say 'no' when the kids want to share. The show was a bit too crazy for me. The supernatural, paranormal stuff is a bit much, but halfway through the first episode Jessica Lange showed up. "Remember her?" I asked. Jake just looked at me. "When you were a little boy we had to watch the King Kong movie three times a day." Teenagers hate being reminded of what they did as children. I figured Jake would shut it down. "She was the hot chick?" He asked. I laughed. I would say that every time that we watched the movie. He remembere...

So...Brian Griffin has returned to Family Guy as many of his fans hoped that he would. He was raised from the dead by Stewie, who loved him dearly, in a strange twist brought about because of the time machine that Stewie built. The Twitter world was abuzz with the revival as fans of the show were thankful. The show creator, Seth McFarland sent out two twits (I'm paraphrasing): 1). Of course we weren't going to kill off Brian. Do you think we're high! and 2). Just a warm and fuzzy lesson for you for the holidays. Don't take the people you love for granted because they can be gone in an instant. That one hit hard. And not because I ever took the people I love for granted, but because of the 'in an instant' part. That's the tough part of the statement to handle. In an instant. It don't take much. And with that the holiday spirit, in a weird sort of way was kicked back to the forefront of my mind. Still not getting around too well. Sti...

Lyrics from the U2 Song dedicated to Nelson Mandela...beautiful sentiments all through it... The sea wants to kiss the golden shore The sunlight warms your skin All the beauty that's been lost before Wants to find us again I can't fight you anymore It's you I'm fighting for The sea throws rocks together But time leaves us polished stones We can't fall any further If we can't feel ordinary love We cannot reach any higher If we can't deal with ordinary love Birds fly high in the summer sky And rest on the breeze The same wind will take care of you and We'll build our house in the trees Your heart is on my sleeve Did you put it there with a magic marker For years I would believe That the world couldn't wash it away 'Cause we can't fall any further If we can't feel ordinary love We cannot reach any higher If we can't deal with ordinary love Are we tough enough For ordinary love We can't fall any furt...

Looking at that photo of my nephew John from the softball game in the summer I can only recall what I have thought since the day he entered the world. He's loved. And there's no way I could have ever imagined what the circumstances of his young life would be from the vantage point of the day he was born. My brother had called with excitement in his voice. The unmatched excitement of witnessing the miracle of life starting. Just an amazing, amazing gift. "After seeing that if you doubt the existence of God...Man!" Jeff's voice had trailed off. And we were all so happy to be welcoming another John Fuzzy into the world. And what a fine boy John has grown into. He has a bright engaging smile, a wonderful demeanor, and a thoughtful and intelligent soul. His family providing the guidance he needs to fight the cruelty of life. Just beautiful. During the summer we went out into the driveway and tossed the basketball around. John and Sam were on a ...

Saw a show with the parents of some of those poor children who were slaughtered in Connecticut last year. The news program kept talking about the anniversary. Doesn't seem like much of an anniversary to me, and like many others, there are dates, for me and my family, on the calendar, that are about nothing but remembering pain. How do you live broken-hearted? Those poor parents. And each of them spoke about how disappointed that they were about how the deaths of their children were turned into talking points for the pro-gun lobby and the anti-gun lobby. About how it wasn't about the kids anymore. And it shames me to think about it in that way, but what's worse are the shootings that continue. And not just shootings at schools. But yet... ...Nothing. One group saying throw all the guns you can into the ocean. The other saying we need more guns to solve the guns problem. Nonsensical rhetoric to a Mom who isn't getting a child ready for school. A ...

Opened the paper the other day and saw the unmistakable smiling face of a man who I'd met a few times on a construction site. It was a great smile. And I thought about the first time I met the guy: He was on a scaffold plank about 18' above the ground, setting block. Working hard. Real hard. As it was a bright summer day he worked without a hardhat and in a tank top and shorts. There was a much younger man standing on the plank beside him. Also well under-dressed. All against the rules of safety. I called him down and he extended a huge, calloused hand to me. The sweat was pouring down his face. He was a big, strong man. As we shook hands I registered the fact that he was tough. He might've been thinking the exact opposite thoughts based on my grip. I explained to him what he needed to do to avoid potential fines, or worse, a bad accident. "You fall 18' you might die," I said. "We're all gonna' die," he answered. I thought o...

We were reaching critical mass around here. There have been three really sad faces. One is mine. The other two belong to the dogs. The rides around the neighborhood have been non-existent. No looking for the rabbits, birds, dogs and deer. Just day after day between the couch and the bed. Dogs can really sleep! Yet they look at me so hopefully in the morning and after dinner...their usual ride times. "We gotta' stay," I tell them and I can see the sadness just take over their minds. Yet I went to therapy the other day and asked, in front of my wife, whether I was cleared to drive. "Two weeks," he said. I was on my two week anniversary. I looked at her. "Dogs get to go for a ride," she said. "Oh joy." But I still couldn't pull it off. The therapy brought no joy...more pain...we had to stay. Yet I was determined. On Thursday morning I made the announcement: "Who wants to go for a ride?" Damn, you...

You must've seen the story about the family that was lost in the wilderness and extreme cold out west. Their car overturned about a hundred miles from civilization and they survived by huddling together, burning tires, rocks, whatever, to stay alive. Of course, it begs the question on why they would travel so far away to play in the cold, but why be negative? Once the accident happened the parents kept the kids safe so there's that. I tried to imagine our loving family in such a situation. First off, Dad wouldn't be thinking of the things to keep the family alive...that would be Mom's job...and that might not go so well either because there'd be no candy crush out there...and God help us all if we ran out of tobacco products. Then there's the children. Our kids aren't tough. Is that a nice way of putting it? Matt, one time, was out mowing the lawn...minutes later he was in the shower. "What happened?" I asked as I saw the half-cut l...

Read a recap of the real life crook that was the factual basis for the new movie with Leonardo DiCaprio. The woman who was married to one of the crooks spilled the beans and reading the story I was sickened by all of it. The crew supposedly stole millions and millions of dollars and all of the aggravations of the stories such as these came back to me. The guy was arrested and charged with fraud. He spent 3 years in prison. The wife is now divorced. The guy opened up business again and lives in a huge mansion without her. What's the problem? Every single day we have social media things that go round and round about people who are poor...or making $7.25 an hour. "WE NEED TO DRUG TEST THESE LAZY PIGS!!!!" Someone will write that on their Facebook account and be proud of how bright they are. Then there will be a million likes and people will comment that the handouts have to stop! What about the other end, folks? Why can the banks be brought to the gro...

A few days ago I was reading a Facebook post about a guy who, by accident, ate a few cookies only to later find out they were dog treats. The guy shall remain nameless so as not to embarrass him. (Jeff Popple) Anywhoha...it got me to thinking. Dumbest thing you're ever done? I have a bunch, as do most people, I'm afraid. I was listening to a story about Hall of Fame Baseball Player George Brett as he poked fun of himself for literally shitting his pants in public. It takes a special person to make that public. Mine? The Bills were in their fourth straight Super Bowl back in January of 1994. I was convinced that they were going to win that one after having lost the previous three. We all had really got the partying down by then as well so we had the day planned out. It forced me up and out of bed by 7 a.m. on game day. At that time I was living alone in my rat's nest apartment in South Buffalo. Anyone who had the pleasure of my company in that place just cr...

I must admit that I didn't have much of a grasp on the life of Nelson Mandela back about 20 years ago. Yeah, he'd stood in the face of blatant racism. Sure, he'd been sent off to prison and had toiled there rather than compromise his beliefs. Certainly he made a bunch of really brilliant comments about living right. But I was busy back then. I spent way more time playing sports and drinking beer. I had no idea who Nelson Mandela really was. Thankfully, living in the information age we can go back and catch up really quickly. We don't have to go down to the local library and page through the slides or the encyclopedia. Hell, it's on our phone now if we need it. "That Mandela dude died," Jake said to me last week as the breaking news hit the world. "What did he do?" The drinking and the heavy sports playing had ended in plenty of time for me to be able to tell him. I explained a bit about South Africa and the way he stood tall...

I can't believe that Robinson Cano won't be on the Yankees next year, and try as I may, it bugs me. This is where the non-Yankee fan is supposed to jump in and tell me that they aren't the only team in baseball and how selfish and stupid I am for not believing that an extra $65 million can sway a man. Is it worth $65 million to go to Seattle and never be heard from again? That team stinks and Cano, as great a player as he is, can't do it alone. Is it worth $65 million to give up the exposure of playing in NY? Supposedly Cano signed with Jay-Z to maximize his off the field endorsement possibilities. He wanted to be a big star. The only big star from Seattle was that dude from Nirvana, right? (I won't make any cracks here). Oh yeah, there was Frazier Crane. Is it worth $65 million to not be a Yankee legend? Yeah, Cano had that kind of future. Mantle, DiMaggio, Ruth, Gehrig, Yogi, Reggie, Jeter...hell even Bernie, Tino and O'Neill. Paul O...

Damn. Someone had to go and post something to ruin my morning agony time the other day. It was an across the board condemnation of those looking to earn a higher wage in the fast food industry. And of course, it's pointless to argue such things on a message board, but it really gets my blood boiling. You inevitably hear the "loser" label slapped on such people who are stuck working such jobs. The same loser label that's slapped on those needing government assistance. And to be sure, those losers are out there, and they deserve scorn, I suppose, but I really don't know everything I need to know to slap such a label on them. But I do know that McDonald's and KFC and Wal-Mart are successful franchises making billions and billions. I do know that those who work in such places are not supposed to try and make a career out of it, but My God, if you can't afford to get to work why would you go to work? Maybe $15 an hour isn't the answer, but $7....

The other day I happened to find Judge Judy on for a single half-hour. You should've seen how excited I was. The one thing that I've really tried to do is keep the television watching to a minimum, but it's simply impossible. Still, not whining. I knew it would be this way. However, I've made some observations: 1). The creepiest thing on television is Ellen's dance up the aisle on her afternoon show. It's really a weird couple of minutes. She sort of creeps up the steps and not one person touches her. She also pretends to be singing along, and then it all ends with her hoisting her ass up and holding it for a few seconds before she plops into the chair. The crowd is going wild. It's creepy. 2). Law & Order sucks. All of them. The show is a strict format and the detectives are real easy to hate because they are noble, all-knowing and really clever with their quips. Quick - name one character (besides John Munch). You really couldn...

Kids have a way of knowing. My kids absolutely adore their Aunt Corinne. They laugh with her. They love being with her. They tell Corinne stories long after she leaves, and each is filled with a sense of awe and wonder. They know what it was like for us as kids. Now mind you, Corinne didn't always see us as natural extensions of her. When she was a teen and we set her up as our mark for the day she'd respond in kind. She had a little nickname for her brothers and it will stay between us. GET OUT OF HERE, YOU _______!!! As we grew, of course, we all saw Corinne as the woman she is now: Beautiful. Kind. Generous. Funny as hell. Stubborn. Brilliant. And Old. Happy Birthday, Sis. We love you every day. And of course, I used to call her Cort. She always responded with a nickname for me (Fill in the one missing letter): Cli_. (It's not an F).

I'm a big fan of Family Guy. In fact there are only two shows that I don't want to miss new episodes of: Family Guy and Modern Family. I love watching and laughing with the boys and while Family Guy is crass and crude, they usually tell the truth. Well, the dog, Brian, died in an episode a couple of weeks ago, and like others, I felt really cheated. But death does that. Still, I figured it would be fixed by a plot twist and that Stewie would bring Brian back to life with a trip in the time machine, but alas, the time machine is busted beyond all repair. "That's it!" Sam announced. "He's not coming back." And Sam was not a fan of the plot twist either. Still. I forgot about it. Until I saw an article about the petition started to get the show's creator, Seth McFarland, to change his mind. There are more than 100,000 signatures on it. And that made me sadder yet. What makes me sad about it? That we can generate so much p...

Tuesday morning was really rough. I woke early, of course, but I knew that if I got up and out of bed I was going to really pay for it, so I laid there, watching the morning news show, eating the aspirin that they gave me so I don't have a blood clot, and just hoping my beautiful wife was up soon. She'd be heading down the stairs to get the ice. I was to, under all circumstances, wait! Thankfully, she got the ice to me by 7 a.m. and I placed the bags on my hip and back and waited for relief. I was still waiting as Sam left, Jake left, and Melky and Paris went outside and then returned. The pain wouldn't subside. I thought of that rehab dork who made me move. I thought of that bastard surgeon who cut me, and the dork who ran into my car at a stop sign. I thought of God a little, and read the Twitter feed. Nothing was really helping. "You want me to help you get downstairs before I leave?" My lovely wife asked. "Nah. I may just stay here,...

My boss sent me a text on Monday morning asking me about the old routine being upset. Damn. He knows me well. He understood that I'd be a bit disoriented. And man, am I ever. You see, Monday morning is a shot out of bed and a quick gulp of coffee and a run around the block with my dogs before off to work. The dogs are sad. I got up at the usual time, of course, and my first instinct was to get out of bed. Big mistake. I have learned one thing off the Monday morning experience. I can't get out of bed until I am good and iced up. And then it all went real haywire as I watched the family go through the motions of getting out there and taking care of business. I did this from a flat on the back position - ice doing its work. I really missed the routine. "Are you doing okay?" my boss asked. "It's not going quite as quickly as I'd hoped," I responded. "There's a surprise," he answered. "Be patient." And...

Watched a ton of football this weekend and let me tell you: I'm a baseball fan. In fact, I think football is sort of in trouble, but it will survive because it's such a money-maker, but the game certainly has suffered. I've already pissed off the Grape Apes and the rest of the football fans, so I might as well continue. Problem #1 The refs. I really don't know if I should blame them, they seem lost out there. The rules seen to be sort of rolling rules. Quick: When is it a fumble? And pass interference? Saw a receiver held in the end zone a couple of weeks ago and the call wasn't made because the ball...which was in the general vicinity of where the guy might have been had he not been held...and the one ref called it a penalty and then picked up the flag after talking to guys who said they didn't think it could be caught. Really? They are responsible for making that type of call? And I've been watching the game for 40 years...and every w...

I had been playing catcher. My good buddy was pitching. The softball game was tied in the late innings and there were two outs with the bases loaded. The batter hit a roller back to the pitcher and I moved to the plate and read the indecision in the pitcher's eyes as he fielded the ball. "Throw it to first, moron!" I yelled. "Shut the f&8K up!" He yelled back, as he threw the ball to me. It was the wrong play, of course. I caught the ball and stepped on the plate for the out, but the huge guy coming from third had one thought on his mind. Separate me from the ball. He hit me like a truck. I was on my back, absolutely flattened, but I held onto the ball. Yesterday we laughed hard about that play. One of the old glory days moments. Of course, I wasn't in much of a mood to rehash such things, but my brother and a half dozen of the guys stopped by to make dinner for me. We kept laughing, talking about days on the field, the court, or ...

I must have heard the words 'Black Friday' 70,000 times yesterday. Those two words were mentioned in every other commercial. The other commercials featured Bill Cowher and Michael Bolton. I am not a fan of either man. And Cowher may have been a great football coach, but he is an absolutely horrific cue card reader. I've always been of the mind that acting takes a certain talent...see Gandolfini...and is readily apparent when it can't be pulled off...see Keeanu Reaves...and Bill Freaking Cowher. When he says: "Oh, and Helen, good coffee," I want to throw something through my television screen. And Michael Bolton? Where they hell did they dig him up? His voice is like fingernails on a chalkboard. And have you listened to the lyrics they fed him? "Christmastime is here. I love this time of year." Who wrote that? Bill Cowher? And try as I might I just can't get away from it. I'm kind of stuck in my seat for awhile. I...

The post-surgery pain had me up in plenty of time to contemplate things I'm thankful for. Of course, that same pain sort of chases thoughts of glee from your brain, but there had been a moment. They were putting me down for the surgery and I had been wheeled into the operating room as they gave me the sleeping gas. The nurse in my ear told me it was about to happen, and then I felt an instant, overwhelming tightness in my chest. "What's going on?" That nurse said. Not what you're looking to hear as you're feeling a struggle for breath. "It's fine," a male voice said behind me and sure enough the tightness subsided, and then I was out. Two hours later later they were waking me up. It seemed like two seconds. So I thought about that for a moment when I woke in the middle of the night on Thanksgiving Morning, and I vowed to spend some time among the living. Kathy's Mom made us a turkey. It was perfectly prepared. My mother provided...

Psalm 100 Heavenly Father, we praise you and thank you for the countless blessings and mercies you have shown us. You have blessed America as a refuge for Pilgrims from all corners of the earth and from every era. You have strengthened us in time of trial and held us up in the face of adversity. You have granted us this beautiful and bountiful refuge. You have granted us the fruits of freedom, of worship, and hard work. Remind us to be humble in our abundance and to remember the sacrifice of those who came before us and who so trusted in you. Let their example remind us to renew that trust, to always be thankful, to always be obedient to your hand and to be no less strong in our values. In this harvest moment, we give thanks to you O Lord, for family and friends, for health and country, and for the gift of life. As we gather around our family tables on this Thanksgiving, We will "Ask the Lord's blessing in all that we do". We ask for this blessing ...

Can it be real? People walking up to other people in the street and hitting them to see if they can knock them out cold. The game, evidently, is catching on all over and there is another group out there yelling that perhaps it shouldn't be spoken of because it encourages others to give the game a go. Really? Are there really people out there who think, 'Wow, what a cool game, I wanna' play it!'? I just can't fathom it at all. One of the victims was a 78-year-old woman. A 28-year old man allegedly walked up to a 78-year-old woman and punched her hard enough to knock her out. You can't even write a sentence like that and not want to throw up all over the keyboard. But it's truly not surprising to me. There's way too much violence on the streets of American no matter where you stand on any of the issues. Just way too much. The respect seems to be gone. The compassion seems to be gone. But right when I think of that, I think of the mi...

So just a mere 24 hours away from the hip surgery and the thing I keep considering is the pain on say, Friday. Not a big fan of pain. In fact there were thoughts of living with the gnawing pain each day to avoid the real big pain for a few weeks. Probably why it's taken me so long to fix it. Yet I saw my mother over the weekend, and she's getting around rather well after having her hip replaced. "It's gonna' suck, isn't it?" I asked. "Oh yeah," she said. "But you're better now than before you went in, right?" I asked. "Definitely," she answered quickly. "It just takes awhile." And through the years you've all gotten to know me a bit through the writing...I don't do 'a while' very well, but I most certainly will try. Because I want to golf with the Grape Apes. I'd like to go back to a beer now and again. I wanna' shoot hoops with the boys next summer, and dazzle them...

A mother is a person who seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie. -Tenneva Jordan My Mom just keeps showing all of us how tough she is. She had her hip replaced this year. It was just part of it all. She didn't really bitch about it. She didn't do the woe is me that I'm so famous for. She's just so tough. Being a full-time mother is one of the highest salaried jobs in my field, since the payment is pure love. -Mildred B. Vermont And we all love her...no doubt about it. Not a single day goes by when we don't hope that she's smiling and happy. Despite it all. The phrase "working mother" is redundant. -Jane Sellman No one ever worked harder than my Mom. Our dirty shirts never got a chance to even hit the floor. I couldn't help but laugh when I'd think, "Damn, I just wore that shirt." I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have...

Got into a general discussion this week about Adam & Eve and that fateful conversation in the garden. I don't blame Adam. I really don't. The poor bastard never stood a chance. He was most certainly lounging a bit, just thinking about relaxing, fermenting a bit of the grape, perhaps fashioning a weapon to chase down one of those animals to perhaps grill a steak...and Eve was walking around there completely nude...so why not give her a bit of attention? But later. After nap. And then she started yakking about the apple tree. "Why can't we eat off that tree? Does that sound right to you? I mean who said that He gets to make all the rules? I swear to God, Adam, you have to learn to think for yourself. You're letting Him take advantage of you, and you just sit there. Hey, do you know what happened to me when I went over by the stream? I saw a snake. Anywhoha...we got to talking." Adam closes his eyes. He's thinking: "Just a little sleep....

So, sitting in a doctor's office the other day for the 4th time as we set up the surgery for next week. Evidently everyone and their brother must make sure you're okay before they'll even do it, so there's an endless supply of people testing you. Let me set the scene. There are just three of us in the room. Me, a nurse, and a middle-aged woman. I'm seated as is the middle-aged woman and the nurse is running around working at breakneck speed. She hands each of us a form to fill out and I get to work, as does the other woman. The nurse says thank you to the middle-aged woman for some reason. The middle aged woman says: "You're welcome," in plain voice and then just yelps and screams out: "YOU'RE WELCOME!" We've all been startled before, right? I felt an absolute chill up and down my spine. My heart was racing. I had dragged the pen across the top of the page as nearly shitting my pants caused my hand to involuntarily jerk ...

I've always looked up to my big brother, and that's not as easy as it sounds. He's shorter than me. He's also balder than me. But he's now 50 years old. And let me tell you...he's a great man, a terrific father, a wonderful son, uncle and brother. And if I didn't say all that he'd kick the crap out of me. There's a wonderful photo in my mother's photo album. It's a shot of John, kneeling on my arms, throwing punches at me on the living room floor. I'm kicking, screaming and trying to cover up, and the only other thing you need to know about the photo was that my mother snapped the picture! Yeah. Let's capture a shot of John kicking Cliff's ass. But the mind is a funny thing. I remember being beside John on the swing set seeing who could fly that swing seat higher. He won. I recall running away with him and we escaped to the car that was parked in the backyard. We must've been like 6 & 7. We ran bac...