Thoughts of a Common Man

Every Easter I think of the seasons of my youth spent in Church. I recall having to do the Stations of the Cross as an altar boy with all the other altar boys, standing and kneeling and kneeling and standing...all of us thoroughly aggravated with all of the ceremony. There was one such year when I had a horrible cold and it seemed to go on forever and ever. I remember complaining a bit to the priest and he mentioned that Jesus carried the cross and I was 'whining' because I had a cold. It forever scarred me! I went in search of the story this morning. Come on up for the rising! Happy Easter! "So what if the Easter bunny wins the hearts of children everywhere? So why not strike "Easter vacation" from the vocabulary of our schools and substitute "Spring break"? What difference does Easter make anyway? It makes a lot of difference to those who are in touch enough with reality to take life and death seriously. It made a lot of difference to a very r...

I wrote this one about ten years ago. Found it the other day. Smiled at the thought of the woman. It's a true story. On a bitterly cold Saturday morning in November, I stopped at a store for diapers, formula and dog food. I had a miserable hacking cough and an aching head. I was dead-tired and aggravated that there was one cashier with six people in line. I rolled my eyes and swore only to be embarrassed when I realized the elderly woman behind me had heard me curse. “I’m sorry. I’m just miserable.” The lady smiled. I figured she was about seventy. A quick glance at her cart told me she probably lived alone. “I don’t have enough time left to be miserable,” she said. “I’m ninety-three. I can go at anytime. I need to enjoy every second of what’s left.” I was floored by her proclamation. “You can’t be ninety-three. You look so young.” “That’s because I’m never miserable. Good to meet ya'. I’m Donna.” We shook hands as a question raced across my mind. “What’s the...

I may have mentioned it before but one of the most amazing sporting events I was ever at was a 1972 basketball game between the Lakers and the Braves. It was in the midst of the Lakers 33-game winning streak. Dad bought those tickets...just behind the Lakers bench because his 8-year-old son was obsessed with everything Wilt Chamberlin. Those tickets would run about $1500 now. Each! Dad, John and I sat there for all of seven bucks each, actually. But Dad was probably making less than a $100 a week then. Regardless, I spent the entire night watching my hero play. I recall sitting there thinking that the guy just couldn't be real. He was gigantic. Bigger than life. I've cherished that memory since. Recently, the Miami Heat have been chasing the Lakers record for the streak. At first I thought it was cool. It was something my kids could remember. Hell, Jerry West was all right with it. In an interview he claimed that he had the streak forever. Then I thought some ...

Don't you hate when the car starts to get filthy? I spend a lot of time in my car so when the dirt piles up on the floor and there's dirt all around I start to get antsy. I planned on cleaning it a number of times over the last few weeks. After finishing up a heavy work schedule I decided that I needed a mental health day of sorts. I headed to the car wash. Why the hell, after putting people on the moon, and finding everything you need on your phone at the click of a few buttons, can't we find a change machine that doesn't spit the dollar bill back at you 11 freaking times before it gives you four quarters? "Come on!" I screamed. It took seven attempts. I took the plastic mats out of the car and hung them on the hook. I headed to the control panel. OUT OF ORDER! Mats back in the car. Cleaned things up. Went to the vacuum. Put in a dollar for 4 minutes. I needed 6 minutes. I wasn't going back to the change machine. GOOD ENOUGH. I hea...

February and March are tough months because I really get tired of the sound of my own voice. I do a lot of speaking during that time and while it gives me a chance to work out kinks in the stand-up routine, it becomes tiresome. I deliver the same punch lines over and over and talk through the same topics that I've been speaking about for twenty plus years. I'm relieved when the sessions are off the calendar. This year the last speaking session was on Friday...for a little while anyway. As I headed back from Syracuse early in the evening with a bunch of college basketball games and my boys waiting for me I knew I was in for an exciting weekend. I would try and relax and just just let love give what it gives. My voice would be replaced by the voices of my boys. When I hit the door Friday night Sam greeted me with his pools already circled in black and red. He was talking a mile-a-minute. We sat together and watched the 7:30 game. We transitioned right into the 10 p.m. g...

It's interesting to me but there was a photo of people gathered together in the cold to protest the fact that there won't be mail delivered on Saturday a.m. Really? That's what gets you out in front of the local town hall to protest? Not getting your discount book from the grocery store? They had signs with rhymes on them to show the world their anger. Now I get the fact that there are some people who depend on that Saturday income. I understand that people may need certain items mailed to them. I also know that it might aggravate me if I have to wait until Monday to receive something that I'm waiting on. But I'm not heading down to the village square with a poster board around my neck to protest it. In fact, while the protests of years gone by seemed interesting, I'm not sure that there's anything that would make me want to gather with other people to scream about. The pro-gun protests resulted in people getting shot. The anti-war protests ...

So today we celebrate the birthday of one of the funniest, hard-working guys in the world. My brother, Jim. I often tell a story about heading to a party in a college town with Jim. It was at least 25 years ago. About a mile from home we were stopped by the cops for speeding. I wasn't driving. Yet we were late for the party and Jim grew impatient with the young cop who was issuing him the citation. Much to my dismay Jim lowered his driver's side window and very politely sceamed out: "Let's go! Are you writing your first ticket ever? We're late!!" The cop wasn't real pleased, but... Soon enough, we were on our way. The party was held at a bar that was a short walk from the private home where we were hanging out. "Just be careful to finish your beer before you hit the street," our host said. "The cops like to hand out tickets for open containers." Two steps out the door a huge spotlight shown on the four of us. One guy...

Wow, March is sort of crazy around here. Not only do we have the NCAA Tourney but it's also time for our baseball draft and I'm always getting my side of beef this time of year. For a guy who likes control the days fly by in a frenzy of sorts that screams of being out of control. Remembering my Yoga instructions I was trying to listen to my breaths all day on Saturday. And then I saw the story of the two teenagers who shot the toddler in the face somewhere near Atlanta, I think, and it pulled me right back to that feeling that the whole world is a really messed up place, and being able to chat hoops and trade baseball picks, and load the freezer is a real luxury. Not to be ignored as anything other than a blessing. One of the most difficult parts of being a writer is being able to imagine the scene. I was, unfortunately, able to really grasp the terror of that mother as she was confronted. I thought about how she felt telling the two idiots before her that she didn...

So, flipping through the stations the other morning, Cheetah Woods was front and center giving me a lesson. Not a golf lesson, mind you; his lesson was: About morality!!! Cheetah was talking about the privacy he and his new girlfriend Lindsey Vonn (who must be the dumbest woman this side of Rhianna) deserves. Cheetah was shooting down the stalk-arazzi, as he calls him, and he was just so dang clever by putting out photos of the two of them as he devalued the cheap shots they were taking of him trying to get amorous. Good job! Maybe you can also take a few camera shots of the next hostess you pick up at Denny's and throw them out there before Lindsey has to see them when the darn camera freaks beat you to it. Cheetah, cheetah, cheetah. Give us a break. Cheetah also went on to tell us how "proud" he is of his own ability to bounce back from "personal tragedy" to be one of the best in the sport again. "I've worked hard." No, no, ...

The football season had a different feel to it this year. You see, Sam had wounded his Uncle Chuck with a couple of wins in the previous two years. As Sam (and I) ate our free Outback Dinner with an add-on lobster tail both times, Chuck picked up the tab, and took all the heat that Sam brought... Day After Day After Day It wasn't really close this year. Chuck took the lead with a big week one, and he kept the hammer down. "I'm 45 points behind," Sam said at mid-season with tears at the corner of his eyes and his beloved Chargers taking another whipping. "What are you upset about?" I asked. "That's right! You're paying." I paid up this past weekend. You know who cost me the most cash? Yeah, Sam. He ordered the full-rack of ribs. He ate 2 pieces of bread. He ordered the side lobster tail and the side grilled shrimp. He had two sides of mashed potatoes with his ribs. I must admit that my steak and side tail was ...

I have my blue pen and my red pen. I have the teams that I picked out of the hat (And I did very well this year - the Grape Apes are gonna' be paying me). I have my brackets filled out and I faxed them in. The only problem that I truly have is that it is going to be difficult to watch the games on the first two days. Stupid work is in the way. And I say all of this because my resident gambler, somehow, was able to get a day off of school tomorrow for the first set of games. Sam has been talking about the tournament non-stop since last year's tourney ended. He has studied the teams and knows who is good at home, who plays well on the road, who the best player in the nation is and who's gonna' be in trouble when the 3-shot is defended. He's an awful lot like his Uncle Jeff in that regard. Jeff thoroughly enjoyed the tournament, the betting, the lifting names out of the hat, and chirping loudly when the bracket got busted. As I picked the names Tuesday ...

And you're to blame. Damn. Another shot in the back to alleviate the pain in my hip and you wanna' hear the best part? My hip feels the same and now my back hurts. I'm supposed to feel relief, if there is any, in 3 to 5 days. I headed to a job the morning after the shot and walked with an old buddy of mine up the stairs to the 4th floor. He was telling me about his stress test and how they shut him down 7 minutes in because his heart was skipping a few beats. "Well you had a nice run," I told him. "You bastard," he said. "You're supposed to be making me feel better." We were on the 4th floor after our successful trip and we were looking out at the City of Buffalo behind the heavy glass. "Make you feel better?" I asked. "If this window opened, I'd have to think about taking the quick way down." "I'd land on top of you," he said. "The worst part about it is I still think I'm...

So - two championship games this past weekend. Two chances to see the kids bring home the first-place hardware. As you can probably guess from the expression on Sam's face, his team lost. So did Jake's. But he smiled. Cause he hit a bomb. The basketball season was exciting for them all year long. They both played well. They both talked great game. They both enjoyed the time on the court and the attention they got. They were well-coached in a good league that taught sportsmanship and emphasized fun. There were a couple of games that were a little iffy because the parents were screaming from the stands, but overall, no one was taken away in handcuffs, and they were able to laugh off the end of the season loss because they gave it their best effort. It's weird watching the kids play for a couple of reasons. First, there's the pride thing. I want them to do well so badly. You hate to see them dribble one off their foot or miss a free throw. When they do it...

Turns out I don't know a whole lot about Lil' Wayne. A few years ago my kids mentioned that he was the true music superstar and that thirty years from now people would mention him in higher acclaim than Springsteen. Than he went to jail and was sort of out of the loop as Bruce toured the world. I must admit that I dismissed the guy as an idiot. Perhaps I was being closed-minded, and out of touch with the young folk. As the reports started fluttering in that the Weezer was in bad shape, and perhaps even dying, I looked up the reasons why a 30-year old guy might find him in such rough shape. I'd never heard of Sizzrup. Yet who am I to judge just based on a photo? Or the fact that I'd never tried the syrup mix that mixes codeine-laced cough syrup with Sprite and Jolly Ranchers. Who ever heard of such a thing? Twitter was blowing up. People were telling me about his art. "Lil' Wayne is dying," I told Jake when he entered the room. His f...

We've been together a long time. Birthdays come and go, but each day still seems special to me. You see, before my beautiful wife came along my longest relationship was a lunch date. I hadn't been interested in such things and truth be told, when I was out on a date they usually lost interest after watching me eat. But my beautiful wife stuck around. She realized that the rest of the world was simply misunderstanding my charms. I knew I was in trouble when she didn't run away. In fact, I remember telling her one time: "Oh shit, we're gonna' get married, aren't we?" All the years later. It was still a solid move. Saved me from being the Jack Nicholson character in that old movie with Helen Hunt. (Although I'm still morphing that way at times). She stops it from happening. And it makes me think of a song that Billy Joel wrote a long time ago. It's a song that my Dad fell in love with when Sinatra covered it. "A beautiful love...

Photos such as the one above are what makes life worth it, you know? That's an old buddy from my hometown in the middle. Anthony George spearheads a "Bald for Bucks" charity drive in order to fight back against cancer. A little while ago, Anthony lost his sister Cathy to the horrible disease. I'm sure that it doesn't seem like a little while ago to Anthony. Those moments have a way of always being part of the immediate present. And Anthony is still fighting back. In honor. Out of love. Through his grief. To help others. That's the real cool thing about life. Not giving in when it would be easy to do so. Not caving to the temptation to fill the empty spaces with things that cause destruction. Closing the void with an attempt to make changes. My sister does it with her Queen Team. My buddy Gag runs marathons. Anthony goes bald to help. The spirit of life is most alive in the moments when we are helping someone else. Great jo...

The difficulty with the gun laws that are on the books, or soon to be on the books, is that pro-gun people would like to be not checked to own a weapon. "Criminals won't follow the rules," they say. True. Yet the problem with it is that you don't become a true criminal until you actually misuse the gun that you bought legally. And that gives the responsible gun owners a bad name. Take for instance the guy in Bradford, Pa. who allegedly had a fight with his wife for having an alleged affair. He worked in the Department of Corrections so I'm assuming that he was a responsible gun owner. He allegedly drank all day as he argued with his wife about that alleged affair and then the only thing that isn't really alleged is that he fired a shot. At himself. In an effort to get his wedding ring off his finger. He shot his hand nearly clearly off. The ironic part? The ring still didn't come off his finger. Some things are meant to be. Yet ther...

The Bills just released their former starting quarterback. By all accounts Ryan Fitzpatrick seemed like a good human being. He was a pretty poor NFL QB though, and no matter how nice a guy you are, that catches up. Don't feel bad for the dude. It turns out he was getting paid $50,000 A Day!!!! For 501 straight days. Now don't get me wrong here. I like sports. I always have. I also don't begrudge a guy getting paid if someone is willing to pay him, but folks... Folks, folks, folks... What in the hell are we doing? The sequester bullshit has cost people their jobs. I just read an article about special education programs being cut to the bone. We can't get sick people to the doctors. We have people doing jumping jacks because the minimum wage is being raised to $9 per hour. You know how much drywall a guy has to hump at 9 bucks an hour to get to one days pay for a NFL quarterback who won 8 games over those 501 days? It's not Ryan Fitzpatrick...

Did you happen to see that awful story about the woman who was killed while cleaning the Lion's cage? It's a funny thing about those big animals and those big fish. When left alone with us, they will crush us, or maul us, or bite us. As cute as they might seem. Evidently there was a procedural error of some sort and the lion either picked a lock or was left behind a door that was supposed to be closed but wasn't. There are reports that the poor girl was on the phone and that perhaps the lion just wanted to play with her because he cuffed her, breaking her neck and then didn't really maul her much after that. We all hate when someone is on the phone and ignoring us, right? The lion was shot to death so that the rescue people could get to the woman. And do you know what people are screaming about the lost? Yep - the dead lion. "Why did they shoot the poor lion?" "The lion was just doing what was natural." "The lion shouldn...

So they are having a conclave to elect the new Pope. Is that sort of like a football fantasy draft? I'm trying hard to picture the scene. Do they all have to wear their colored robes? Are there adult beverages consumed? Pizza and wings? I'm not sure how it all goes. I know that they send up black smoke if they don't have a Pope yet, and then send up a different colored plume when the choice is made. I have a few suggestions. 1). Think very hard before electing a Pope that has friends who have molested other friends and/or little children. It seems impossible that I would have to suggest such a thing for the man who will sit closest to God, but we do have some bad PR to consider, right? 2). If you're going to go with the black guy, you may have to do a little more selling to some people. There are Catholics out there who actually put up a photo of the Pope. Some of these same folks don't really care for people who don't look exactly like they ...

So we aren't going to use drones to strike down American citizens on human soil. That's cool. Now if we can all stop shooting each other. Not sure we needed that dope talking about it for 13 hours, but what the hell, we got tax $ to spend, right? Lost a freaking hour of sleep this week. Why can't they spring us ahead on, say a Tuesday at 3 p.m.? That way we'd lose an hour of work. I bet we'd all look forward to it rather than dreading the fact that we lose an hour of sleep and then feeling as if we can never catch up. The spring forward actually seems to cost about 12 hours of sleep for some reason. You gotta' love spring though. That first day of 55 + temperatures makes you feel as if you're reborn. You start thinking about shooting baskets, golf and ice cream cones. Still hampered. I didn't golf, but I shot two baskets as my kids were playing. I called for the ball and hit a 20-footer, asked for it back, hit another one and walked i...

I spent part of my Saturday at a couple of local gyms to watch my sons play in their basketball games. "We win this week we go to the championship game," Sam told me as we headed off that way. I knew that. They'd been talking about it for weeks. Win or go home. Both teams were still alive with just two weeks left to go. I was a little late for Jake's game, but coming off last weeks one-point win I was a bit concerned about arriving. A few of the parents had grown incensed with the poor old ref who'd had the gall to call 3-seconds. I had stopped going to games for that reason. The parents who believe their kid is destined for the NBA and who trample everything in their path at a game for 15-year-old children absolutely sickens me. I've uttered about five sentences at such games. "Good D, Jake." "Break the press in the middle!" and "Good hustle!" That's all the kids need to hear. They don't need to know t...

The 27-Time World Champion Greatest Team in the History of Organized Sports the New York Freaking Yankees are off to a rough start this spring. A-Dork is out until June. Tex and Grandy both pulled up lame. The GM jumped out of a plane and broke his leg. The little Steinbrenners are talking fiscal responsibility. But I refuse to budge. Certainly the hard times are in clear focus, but I have faith. For a few reasons. 1). Derek Jeter. He's a superstar. He is the epitome of a guy who doesn't know what 'can't' means. He broke his ankle in October. He said that day. 'See you on Opening Day.' Doubt him all you want. He'll be batting lead-off against the Suck Sox. I expect a single to right. 2). Mariano & Andy & Ichiro All true pros. This team will not suffer, truly suffer, until guys like the three mentioned above are gone. They aren't there yet. Old guys can still hit and pitch too. And there's a lesson to be learned i...

So, fresh off Dennis Rodman's trip to North Korea we have an announcement from that country that they're gonna' ship over some nukes some day soon. First off, how did Rodman get chosen as the spokesman? "He's an awesome guy," Rodman said. Or at least, I think he said that. When he was talking with Kim Jon Un there were two guys in the room who needed their words translated into English. But I don't hate Rodman here. It's easy to take pot shots at the guy. He has a lip ring, a bunch of crazy nights in his past, a few NBA rings, and a real path of self-destruction. He was also fun to watch because no one could ever tell if he was going to flip his lid or lead the league in rebounding. I just question his diplomatic skills. "We talked about basketball, and then world stuff. He's an awesome dude. He don't want no war." Un answered that proclamation, ahead of the UN search for weapons (here we go again) with his announce...

Today is my beautiful sister Carrie's birthday. Please feel free to get in touch with her today and say hey. Like all of my siblings Carrie is as tough, as funny, and as wonderful as they come. As a family we have really suffered a lot, but every day I am able to rise from bed knowing that I have people in this world who would fight to the death for me. As weird as it sounds, not everyone in the world feels that way. I ran into a guy on a job site one day who looked an awful lot like another guy I know. I asked if the two of them were related and the guy said: "Yeah, that's my brother. We aren't close." I just couldn't fathom it. In fact, I asked him about it, and while I don't usually interfere in other people's lives away from the job, I told him to give his brother a call. He looked at me like I had three eyes. It's just weird to me. The Fuzzy's did everything together, and while we certainly have battled through, and whi...

So, we all may have eaten horse, huh? I hear that they're gonna' make up for it by allowing a cow to join the field for the next Kentucky Derby. As much as I eat I'm not a very adventurous eater. I remember having tried rabbit and bear as a kid because Dad put it in the sauce and truth be told, I'd have eaten a turd covered in his sauce. "This is a small chicken," I recall my mother saying as we ate the rabbit. When Dad broke the news she was a little peeved. But I know guys who've tried everything. Frogs, calf brains, snake, squirrel, turtle, shark, Ox, Buffalo, raccoon, cat, even dog. Not me. I can't even stomach sushi although I'll try nearly any Chinese dish, and who the hell knows what's in there. If horse is suddenly considered a delicacy you won't see me standing at the front of the line. Cows, pigs, chicken. I've eaten plenty of those. I have a friend who came to the country from Asia. "Did you ever ...

Normally I get to be the main presenter at the company functions. I have been bestowed this honor with a lot of companies because I work humor into my routine, and I actually laugh at the comedians who speak of doing twenty minutes of comedy and explaining how difficult it is. My usual training sessions are anywhere from 4-8 hours long, and believe me, we laugh a lot. "Warm up the crowd for me," the president of the company the other day said. "What do you want?" I asked. "Tell some jokes," he answered. "I don't work clean," I said. "I don't care," he answered. I told three straight jokes that my Dad used to tell to such a gathering. One laugh was louder than the next. I turned back to the president of the company. "You're a freaking beauty," he said. Yet the session yesterday was interesting for one other reason. There was a break in between my routines and a Yoga instructor took the floor. Actua...

Everything I Know About Joy As you give joy, you will receive joy. It seems like a wonderfully simple concept, doesn’t it? Yet joy does in fact grow as you give it away; just as surely as it diminishes if you try to keep it to yourself. Unless you give it, you will lose it. It’s not easy to hang onto joy in your heart. Sometimes it certainly pays to list some of the joyful moments of your life as fact. Living with joy in your world can be accomplished through practice. Don’t believe me? Try a little experiment. Begin your day with a joyful thought. Tell yourself that you’re glad to be alive. Stand tall. Think tall. Believe tall. Joy will follow if you learn how to be happy. Quit hating people. Stop holding grudges. Don’t just think about yourself. Give your joy away. Do you know people who always seem to be ‘up?’ They have learned the secret of true joy. They understand that negative and dark thoughts freeze personality. They understand that the...

4 Years. Every second feels like the one before. Grief sucks. American Land What is this land of America, so many travel there I'm going now while I'm still young, my darling meet me there Wish me luck my lovely, I'll send for you when I can And we'll make our home in the American land Over there all the woman wear silk and satin to their knees And children dear, the sweets, I hear, are growing on the trees Gold comes rushing out the river straight into your hands If you make your home in the American land There's diamonds in the sidewalks, there's gutters lined in song Dear, I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American land I docked at Ellis Island in a city of light and spire I wandered to the valley of red-hot steel and fire We made the steel that built the cities with the sweat of our two hands And I made my home in the ...

Fear's a powerful thing. It can turn your heart black, you can trust. It'll take your God-filled soul and fill it with devils and dust. A sinkhole opens up and swallows a home in Florida, sending some guy who was in bed down into the Earth. "How are you going to protect your family when someone breaks into your home?" I got that question posed to me yesterday. People seem to be running scared, and perhaps it's legitimate. My beautiful wife has it all figured out though. "No candles, no plug-ins, no babies," she announces to my mother-in-law at 10:03 every night. It's the code they developed to tell one another that there is no imminent threat looming. My boys and I decided to get down to the meaning of it all the other night. I just can't understand. "So, how does it work?" I asked. "It's just a reminder," she said. "There are no candles burning, hence the 'no candles'." "I got th...

Jewel writes one for me because a dear friend reminded me of this. Hands by Jewel If I could tell the world just one thing It would be that we're all OK And not to worry 'cause worry is wasteful And useless in times like these I won't be made useless I won't be idle with despair I will gather myself around my faith For light does the darkness most fear My hands are small, I know But they're not yours, they are my own But they're not yours, they are my own And I am never broken Poverty stole your golden shoes It didn't steal your laughter And heartache came to visit me But I knew it wasn't ever after We'll fight, not out of spite For someone must stand up for what's right 'Cause where there's a man who has no voice There ours shall go singing My hands are small I know But they're not yours, they are my own But they're not yours, they are my own I am never broken In the end only kindness matters I...

I'm reading a book now called The Pizza Bomber. Perhaps you remember the story. A pizza delivery guy went into a bank with a bomb strapped around his neck. In Erie, PA. of all places. I dominated Erie during my college years back in the early to mid 80's. (Sorry for the hyperbole. My college-aged kid is constantly telling me about the things he dominates). Yet the surprising thing is that it did happen in Erie. It's such a quiet place, normally, but craziness has no known locale. Anywhoha, back to the story. The cops didn't believe the guy and sort of stood there waiting for him to confess to the crime and admit that he wasn't just some stooge who had a bomb strapped around his neck by 3 black guys. While they were waiting for the confession a funny thing happened. (Not funny, ha-ha, mind you). The bomb went off and the pizza guy blew up. As I was reading about it, and an accompanying story of a woman involved who shot her boyfriend and bought a n...