Thoughts of a Common Man

One of the things in this life that I rather enjoy is when people band together to really help other people. I was listening to a story about St. Jude's Children Hospital as well as the Ronald McDonald House. I also had the chance to see the kid in the wheelchair throwing out the first pitch at the Boston Suck Sox game. I really liked the kid. Even though he was talking to Pedro. Even if he was wearing a B on his shirt. And there's so much crap, right? Amanda Bynes - I wrote about her yesterday. LeBron James - "I know I'm great. I wanna' get greater. If that's possible." Douche Armstrong. "I'd start my 'I'm sorry tour', but I don't know that I really cheated." And on and on and on. Meanwhile there are people who give their time and money away and don't look for thanks. Granted Bill Gates is doing okay, but do something weird sometimes and look up how much he's given to charity. Billions. He do...

It's funny, but everything that's sort of worke out for me was seen, in advance, by my beautiful wife. She sort of figured out all of this before I was involved and while we laugh about her strong financial decision of years ago, I got the best of he deal. Happy Anniversary. Bruce helped with the sentiment, of course. Happy - Bruce Springsteen Some need gold and some need diamond rings Or a drug to take away the pain that living brings A promise of a better world to come When whatever here is done I don't need that sky of blue All I know's since I found you, I'm happy when I'm in your arms Happy, darling, come the dark Happy when I taste your kiss I'm happy in a love like this There's a house upon a distant hill Where you can hear the laughter of children ring Guardian angels, they watch from above Watching over the love that they bring But at night I feel the darkness near, I awake and I find you near I'm happy with you in my ar...

Isn't it weird that we are all sitting on the side of the road watching this Amanda Bynes girl crash the car over and over? The NY Post is having a field day and every other media outlet is along for the ride. We hear about the Twitter rants, the weird haircuts, throwing bongs to the street. One thing after another. And how do you stop it? Does anyone want to? I guess it's all part of the sideshow. We watch someone rise and then sort of giggle as they fall. I remember The Amanda Show. I'm not sure which of my boys was caught watching her, but we sort of teased him...Matt, I'm guessing...anyway, he sort of had a crush on her and I don't know why it is but the guy paying for the television doesn't get to watch what they want. So I saw The Amanda Show, and she was funny, and the show was highly successful. But what happens when the cheering stops? I guess we found out. She's crashing the car hard. Over and over and over. I was horrified ...

So, one of the kids is no longer a teen. Yep, the son who I affectionately refer to as the Dopey Bastard is now 20. "Let's not say 'Happy Birthday'," Sam said as we heard Matt make his first appearance of the day. But I couldn't resist when Mommy ran to the room to check on the baby cub. "What do you want for your birthday?" Kathy asked. "Take him to the bus station," I said. "Get him a ticket anywhere he wants to go. He's done. I only cover 20 years." But I'm thinking we'll have him on the hook a bit longer. We decided to order dinner in as I've been struggling. Matt offered a ten dollar gift certificate to the cause. "How much did that cost me?" I asked. "I got it from my finance professor. That class only cost you two grand." Perfect. It's been a rather one-sided financial deal thus far, but what can you do? That's the understanding. He's living up to his s...

Too often we forget why we are getting a day off. "...gather around their sacred remains and garland the passionless mounds above them with choicest flowers of springtime....let us in this solemn presence renew our pledges to aid and assist those whom they have left among us as sacred charges upon the Nation's gratitude,--the soldier's and sailor's widow and orphan." --General John Logan, General Order No. 11, 5 May 1868 The "Memorial" in Memorial Day has been ignored by too many of us who are beneficiaries of those who have given the ultimate sacrifice. Often we do not observe the day as it should be, a day where we actively remember our ancestors, our family members, our loved ones, our neighbors, and our friends who have given the ultimate sacrifice: By visiting cemeteries and placing flags or flowers on the graves of our fallen heroes. By visiting memorials. By flying the U.S. Flag at half-staff until noon. By flying the 'POW/MIA Flag...

I'm writing this at twenty minutes after two on Sunday morning because the pain in my back from the shot in my groin a couple of days ago woke me up. Also, Matthew just came into the house after being out celebrating his 20th birthday and I heard the fridge open ten times. And finally, I'm fresh off a party with old friends, new friends and the best friends - family members - in which a lot of thoughts entered my mind. You see, we talked about the glory days. We compared aches and pains. Most of us in the nearly 50 crowd were limping around. "You have something hanging down your back," someone said to me. "It's the tail from the ice pack," I said. And none of that is the important stuff. My sister made a passing statement as she sat between Sam and me talking. "It's like looking at the same set of eyes and hearing the same voice." Then a young adult in the crowd asked me what I was writing next. "I haven't been ...

Driving home from Syracuse on Friday night I was listening to the I-pod and the first notes of Thunder Road played and I was tired. In fact, for a fleeting second I thought about advancing it...saying sorry to Bruce and waiting for the next song. I Said it was a fleeting thought. I don't think I can ever really do it. And you must understand that it sometimes crosses my mind to skip it, only because it's painful. It's a song that makes my heart ache for my siblings. I remember sitting in the basement of my parents house trying to get the lyrics right in a day before Google. Bruce mumbles a few of the words (marble-mouth Corinne calls him). I think of singing it with Jeff on a porch...without music...in Florida. We sang it every night for two weeks after drinking at happy hour and before going out drinking. I recall singing it with Kathy at about 20 concerts. Her off-key rendition making me laugh. And then the fist-pump for pulling out of here to win. Damn, it's grea...

So there have been a lot of headlines that have sort of passed me by since I became thoroughly disgusted with the world and all the politics, but we have to touch on a few, right? Did you see Eva Longoria's dress sway up showing her going commando? Me neither. How about the Tea Party crap? Not to say that I'm a big fan of the IRS - who the hell can root for them - but it's terrible when a group of people flock together and try and push their agenda on others without thought to what the other factions are thinking. I mean, who has time for prejudice, crazed agendas and close-mindedness? Right Tea Party? And what to make of the drone strikes and all the other acts of terrorism? Do you see that there are women out there who actually are smitten with the surviving Boston bomber? "He's really cute," one lady said on the streets of New York. Really? He set off a bomb in a public place, shot at the cops, ran over his brother's melon and tried ...

I've really been enjoying the back and forth between Mario Williams, the highest-paid Bills player of all-time and his former fiance. Talk about your love stories. About a year back we were getting reports about Mario Williams visiting the Bills as a free agent. Could it be possible? Would he really sign here? How could the Texans let him go? Turns out, the Bills were bidding against themselves. No one really wanted him. The Texans didn't. The rest of the league stayed out of the bidding. He arrived. The fans cheered. Mario and his girl bought a house near Jim Kelly. All was right with the world. Except Mario kind of stunk. He sort of sulked. The team was lousy again. Ah well. Perhaps he'd bounce back. Young guy. Lots of talent. Plenty of chance to make amends. But recently a story hit the news. The fiance was now the ex-fiance. Mario wanted his engagement ring back. It's a $795,000 ring. For that much money that ring better vacuum, dust, d...

In a tragedy like the Oklahoma tornadoes the pointing of the fingers is almost too much to handle. The twitter feeds all go like this: "Horrible! Thoughts and prayers with those poor people!" And then there's this: "God will help those people get back on their feet!" I always look at those because someone will certainly write: "God!!!! God!!!! Didn't He send the tornado in the first place? LMFAO!!! God!!!!!" And I never participate in such a debate. What could possibly be gained? It's like the Tea Party versus the Crazy Liberals. There's no sense in arguing it. I was reading something the other day about a woman who had lost her home, job and kids. She went back to work and after quitting drinking and buckling down, she found her way again. "God is Great!!!" She wrote. I'm sort of the mind to argue that God didn't just suddenly become great. He was great when she was screwing everything up, wasn...

I started my Sunday morning newspaper reading with an article about a young guy who ran from the cops, put his car in park and jumped in a lake in an effort to get away. They cornered him with a copter over head and cops wading into the water to put the cuffs on him. I suppose he has a good story for somewhere down the line. Yet it was a weird week as two longtime North Collins residents were laid to rest and a lot of my lifelong friends experienced that overwhelming grief. I stood with a grieving daughter in the funeral home that I hate. We were looking at the photos of the well-lived kingdom of days. "She did it all," my friend said. And one line entered my brain. In 100 years. All new people. And I suppose we can't live our lives thinking about it much, but some people should think about it a little, huh? We all did some crazy crap as kids. Some of us even carried it a little futher, right? But eventually there has to come a moment when we think about w...

So. On Saturday I went to see the girl I'm seeing on the side. Stephanie, my massage therapist. Stephanie has become very important to me as I battle the never-ending injury to my hip. It can best be explained that the muscles, tendons and ligaments are prone to tightness on a routine basis. I can pinpoint the trouble spots about five days before the visit. Stephanie knows that her work is cut out for her. She has to work hard. Anywhoha... I'm not bitching. I know a lot of people who are really sick. I'm healthy other than the bum hip. It's all the good eating and clean living I do. Well, on Saturday we were going through the motions. I was listening to the tape that was on...Faith Hill. Not my favorite. I like the Adele or Norah Jones stuff when my muscles are being worked. Good old Faith was singing her heart out though. It was an up-tempo ditty about being in love. There was a male singer in the song and they were trading verses. The basic essence of th...

It was my pleasure to be able to do the eulogy for Stroker McGurk. This is a reasonable guess at what I said. It's a great honor to be asked to say goodbye to Harold McGrath. Actually, I can't even pull that off with a straight face. I'm saying goodbye to McGurk. That's what a whole bunch of us called him. I really only called him 'Bezerk' but that was just between him and me. You always hear it said that life is a gift, or that friendship is a gift, or that the love of a Dad, a husband, a grandpa, a brother - welcome to his brothers - and an uncle - is a treasure provided by the Lord, but to be honest with you, I felt that a lot in McGruk's presence. He was gifting me. His smile was tremendous. I remember him laughing after I said something wise-ass. I'm not sure you know it, but some of us Fuzzy's are smart-asses, and McGurk loved that. His wisdom was astounding, and I really, really looked up to him. As one of my Dad's frie...

I swear this story is true. Go back in time with me to 1986. I was living in Mountain View, California with Jim, Dad and my buddy Tom Ryback who drove across the country to stay with us because he was young and wanted to do something like that. Another buddy, Scott Weiser was just down the street at the Naval Base. A whole bunch of single guys from Buffalo in a sunny location in the summer. We were bound and determined to meet a lot of those California girls. We kept screwing it up though. We enjoyed beer and tequila a lot too. We'd hit the bar determined to meet a beauty and wind up sitting at the bar laughing, drinking and laughing some more. No regrets. One night Tom dragged me to a new thing - a Karaoke bar. I'd never been to one. I haven't returned either. I'm not sure if you know this about me or not but I'm a Springsteen fan. Tom tried his best to get me to go up and sing a Bruce song. It took him about ten beers to talk me into it. Yet that...

Time to run this one again. I thought of my friends in the Rinaldi Family. Keep the Faith. So Sorry for your loss. John Mellencamp - Longest Days Seems like once upon a time ago I was where I was supposed to be My vision was true and my heart was too There was no end to what I could dream I walked like a hero into the setting sun Everyone called out my name Death to me was just a mystery I was too busy raising up Cain But nothing lasts forever Your best efforts don't always pay Sometimes you get sick and you don't get better That's when life is short even in its longest days So you pretend not to notice That everything has changed Way that you look and the friends you once had So you keep on acting the same Deep down in your soul You know you, you got no flame And who knows then which way to go Life is short even in its longest days All I got here is a rear view mirror Reflections of where I've been So you tell yourself I'll be back u...

Remember when OJ was a world class athlete? He's looking a little doughy now, isn't he? I really get a kick out of the people around Buffalo whenever the topic of Orenthal is raised. This is what people say: "I know he had problems after football, but man he was great." Problems? Really? Running out of money is a problem. Having a trick knee is a problem. Perhaps having the old homestead foreclosed or running into IRS trouble is a problem. Gutting your ex-wife and her friend is more than a problem. I'm embarrassed for Buffalo whenever I think of Orenthal. They don't even have the balls to take his name down from the Wall of Fame at the old Ralph Wilson Stadium. The official Bills stand is that what OJ did on the football field got him up on the wall and that hasn't changed. Nice message for the kids. Maybe they should post the photo of that fat disgrace next to his famous name. What a joke.

After seeing something stupid in one of those stupid romantic movies my beautiful wife makes me watch she asked the kids: "If you had to choose who would you live with Mom or Dad?" The two kids who are always politically correct refused to answer. Jake didn't hesitate. "Dad." Of course, my wife was horrified. "I like to eat, and he cooks. I like things organized," Jake said. "Besides, he let's us do what we want." The kids all agreed on one thing: "He acts tough, but he's a push-over." And I suppose I might be. The last couple of weeks have been rough as I've been working a lot. In fact, most days are at least 12-hour affairs, but some of the sting is gone because I do type reports at home, and the boys feel free to come up and interrupt me. I'm glad they do. There needs to be a balance. On Monday I was knee-deep in work crap when Jake came up the stairs with his phone. "I have to play ...

I listened to Rod Stewart for an hour and a half yesterday. He was being interviewed by Howard Stern. As per usual, Howard asked all the right questions about all the girls, the friendships with other rock stars, and the writing of the music. The time went so quickly, and by the time the interview was over I liked Rod even more. Howard treated Stewart with a lot of respect, as well he should. Stewart has written so many great songs through the years. What did I learn? 1). Stewart drives his kids to school in his Rolls Royce and the Ferrari. He does it to embarrass the kids. He also attends their PTA meetings and even read a story to the class. Howard asked the right question: "Do any of the female teachers try to bang you?" Rod just laughed. 2). He loves model trains. He has a huge display in his mansion, and sometimes he spends entire days just creating and changing and building. "Men need a hobby," he said. "So we leave the women alone once in a...

I'm trying to figure out why I have so much disdain for LeBron. I actually liked him at one point. He always seemed like a solid citizen. His talents are indisputable. He ended all of my good feeling with one sentence: "I'm taking my talents to South Beach." In those 7 words he went from someone who's basketball skills were admired to a true villain in the land of 'Thoughts of a Common Man.' And we learned that he donates money, and that he helps kids. And he sort of apologized for the grandiose display. But it ain't enough for me. Because I think he's fake. There, I said it. He strikes me as insincere as A-Rod. He flops. He starts all of his sentences telling me how great he is. He gets every call. If you touch him he acts as if he's been shot. I want to see him fail. And I hate myself for it. I should be the bigger man in the relationship, but I just can't. He's the only athlete I watch and think: ...

I guess I pay attention a lot as a writer. It's part of the gig. I say one thing all the time, fairly consistently. The love between a mother and a child is amazing. Simply amazing. I was blessed to see it with my Mom. Every day. For years and years and years. I am equally blessed to see it with my beautiful wife and the hoodlums who eat us out of house and home. She starts a lot of conversations with me that begin with one of their names. "Matt did pretty well at school," she'll say. "Matt who?" I'll answer. "Jake really breaks his ass when he plays defense." "Jake who." "Sam is just so loving." "Sam who?" You get the point. And it's not that I don't feel the same sort of pride. Of course, I do, but Mom's job is to worry about every single little emotion. There is no problem too small. The other day they were raising their voices while playing a video game. All three...

Did you hear the interview with Charles Ramsey, the guy who sprung those poor girls loose in Cleveland? McDonald's was talking about giving him a job as some sort of spokesman. He was on all the Morning Shows. He was an overnight sensation. It took them two days to tear him down. Turns out he was charged and convicted of beating a woman. A few times, apparently. Still think he's cute? But it speaks more to the day and age we live in. It seems like everyone wants to be known. We have Honey-Boo-Boo and her mother. We have Paris Hilton and the Kardashians. Tim Tebow is all the rage and it turns out he can't really play football. These people are dissected in a minute by the media. Lift 'em up. Smack 'em down. The only thing that mattered to me was it sort of gave me pause. That guy jumped in and became involved. He saved those kids from more torture when it appears that no one else truly gave it their all. And now his life will be a living h...

So, they found a burial place for the Boston bomber, huh? I know that it was quite the issue for a little while there. You've really sort of failed the test, haven't you, if they can't find a place to put your remains after the cops shoot you and your brother drives over your empty melon. What a shame. I've spent the week trying to stay positive, but it's so hard! I wanted to just read and discuss items that were good for the heart, but the Cleveland mess, the kids who've been shot with their parents' guns. Damn. And today I was listening to a show and a man came on talking about how 'God, in general, doesn't make much sense to a reasonable thinking man'. The guy was a 'I'm smarter than you' type of a real asshole. Yet I listened to him. And then the host started back at him a bit. He explained that if he bought the basic premise that God didn't exist than 'How the hell can you explain everything?' ...

One of my favorite artists, Mark Knopfler contributes the entry today. A Beautiful, simple song with a singular beautiful thought. One that we often forget. My darling girl My darling girl You're all that matters In this wicked world All that matters All that matters My darling boy My darling boy All of my sunshine And all of my joy You're all that matters All that matters Well, i can't stop the pain When it calls I'm just a man And i can't stop the rain When it falls, my darling Who can? My darling girl My darling girl You're all that matters In this wicked world All that matters All that matters My darling friend My darling friend All we've got going Is love in the end It's all that matters All that matters If you don't listen to Mark Knopfler's solo records you're missing a ton of beauty!

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. Lao Tzu Love is when the other person's happiness is more important than your own. H. Jackson Brown, Jr. Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring, and integrity, they think of you. H. Jackson Brown, Jr. Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable. Bruce Lee I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. Martin Luther King, Jr. A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge. Thomas Carlyle Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up. James A. Baldwin Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action. Moth...

If you pay attention in life you'll really meet some great people. If you open your heart wide they'll get in and stay there. For years and years and years. Stroker McGurk was my Dad's great friend. His wife and my Mom are still close friends. Growing up in a small town affords you some real living too because Stroker and Frenchie are my friends too, and their daughters were like little Fuzzy's as we all grew up. My first memory of Stroker was one of great admiration. More like adoration. I sat with my Dad as McGurk raced around the tracks at the Holland Speedway. My siblings and I were screaming our fool heads off when Stroker crossed the finish line first. As the years passed the adoration only grew. Every time I saw him in the years after that, I remembered that I thought he was great. His greatness never paled in my eyes. McGurk was always laughing with us. He entertained us with an amazing yodel a time or two. We used to ride to the dumps togeth...

Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like a volcano and then subsides. And when it decides you make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness. It is not excitement. It is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being in love, Which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love, have roots grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossoms have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.

Life is funny, isn't it? The days flow by. We lose ourselves in the bullshit things that catch us by surprise. We try to make it work. We suffer unbelievable crushing losses. And we keep fighting. We really try hard to accept that which we can't rise above. And sometimes we get a nod from those who appreciate our efforts. But in the end, what we did and how we left our mark can only be counted in how we made others feel in the time we are here. The love of my family was something that I've never taken for granted. Jeff always surprised me. The fact that the story of his life has won 10 awards in 10 book festivals from Southern California to Paris, France shouldn't be a surprise. But that's how you leave a mark. That's love. That's family. That's greatness in life.

I was reading a story the other day about a woman from Pennsylvania who hit the road and didn't look back. She had two young children, a boy and a girl, had just quit her job because it wasn't fulfilling enough. She was also supposedly in a strong marriage. She fell apart in a park one day, met a couple of people who were heading for Florida. She hitched a ride. She never mentioned anything to her friends and family back in Pa. 11 years passed. Somehow the law caught up with her and ran her ID. Turns out there had been a massive search for her. Her husband and kids had moved on, thinking that Mommy died. I'm sure that we've all had that thought from time-to-time. Just pack it in. Quit the job. Quit the whole freaking deal. Yet very often we look across the fence at the bright green grass and when we get across the fence it's a bit on the brown side. I'm not much of a quitter. I sort of hate change. Always moving ahead, and never looking back....

The above photo is a shot of one of my heroes in life. That's Michael Gaglianone. He's a ladies man. He's a Phillies fan. And a Yankee fan. He loves sports. And his family. He always smiles. My Mom had a day spent with Michael last summer at the baseball benefit in honor of Jeff. "He's a wonderful boy," she told me just last week. "I really enjoyed talking to him." And every time I think of Michael I smile. Because he reminds me of his Mom. And his Dad. And sometimes love fills up your heart And makes it want to explode. Sometimes there's just so much beauty in this world. And I thought of that immediately when I saw this photo. I thought of sitting across from his Dad about thirty years ago. There was a backgammon board between us. We talked about finding the love that we needed. We talked about dreams. We fantasized about how perfect it would be to be a Dad. And my buddy had all of his dreams come t...

Back when I was a teenager girls sort of thought I was best left alone so I collected autographs with a few buddies who had time for both the ladies and the sports guys. As per usual it became an obsession for me. I wanted to get the signature of all the big stars. As you can see from the photo above, I did pretty well. The Mantle personalized one is awfully great. So is the DiMaggio, the Gretzky, the Willie Mays, Henry Aaron. Just on and on and on. My two favorites are that way because of the way I had to go about getting them. Wilt Chamberlain was famous for never signing. As a kid I couldn't understand that. I was real young when I was shooting for his signature. I sent him photos - once a week - begging him to sign. He never did. So I decided to write him a letter. I added a dollar bill to the package to sweeten the deal. I imagine that the letter went something like this: Dear Wilt, You are the greatest player who ever lived. I really want your autogr...

Jason Collins is a pro basketball player. He currently doesn't play on a team as the season has just ended and he's a free agent. He's also a bench player as well, and on Monday he came out and told the world a secret. He's gay. I'm not sure what the deal is, but I imagine that someone, somewhere thinks that it's either: The most horrific thing ever or The most courageous thing since Jackie Robinson. I don't think it's either, but I don't even know why someone would want my opinion on what somebody else does with their life's choices. A friend of mine once tried to sway me to the anti-gay side by telling me that 'it's against my religion.' So is hate. I'm not the guy who's gay so if God has a problem with homosexuality it better be that he has a huge problem with it if he also damns all who didn't speak out about gay behavior. It's not my place. I just think that most of the angst in the world is ...

To James: Bruce wrote this for you. Ask your Dad to play it for you. I know he feels every word. Love ya' buddy. Surprise by Bruce Springsteen Well surprise, surprise, surprise Yeah surprise, surprise, surprise Well surprise, surprise, come on open your eyes And let your love shine down Well surprise, surprise, surprise Yeah surprise, surprise, surprise Well surprise, surprise, come on open your eyes And let your love shine down Well today is your birthday We've traveled so far we two So let's blow out the candles on your cake And we'll raise a glass or two And when the sun comes out tomorrow It'll be the start of a brand new day And all that you have wished for I know will come your way Well surprise, surprise, surprise Yeah surprise, surprise, surprise Well surprise, surprise, come on open your eyes And let your love shine down In the hollow of the evening, as you lay your head to rest May the evening stars scatter a shining crown up...