Thoughts of a Common Man

Seems we have more tragedy in Syria and that there has to be a response. A violent response. Read the story about that little lunatic Kim Jong Un supposedly executing his former girlfriend and the rest of her band. Lined 'em up and executed 'em. And lately I've been seeing a lot of posts on social media that really get under my skin. They go something like this: "How come Obama isn't angry about the murder....?" Wherever the murder of the day is. This anger is directed at Obama because he said that the Trayvon Martin murder was a senseless act and that perhaps Trayvon could've been his kid. Now when a white kid is murdered...Obama better release a statement? First off, it isn't a racial thing. Obama wasn't upset because Martin was black. He'd answer the same way no matter what murder scenario was presented to him. Do you really think he'd say, "Ah well, that's a white kid, no big deal?" So that'...

I don't know how I missed this story, but when I heard the audio of the Senator from Texas who beat his daughter, I was more than a little upset. Jay Thomas played the audio on his show on Wednesday afternoon and let me tell you, if you're gonna' Google it...it's heartbreaking. I won't even post the link. It was that crazy. The guy's name is William Adams. His daughter is Hillary. She suffers from cerebral palsy, first of all. Secondly, she was just a kid. The back-story is that she went on the Internet to illegally download music after she was told not to. Her disgusting mother (who's name I didn't catch) caught her back at the site downloading the music and the rush to punish her was on. We hear the voice of her charming father telling her that she is to bend over the bed and take the beating she so richly deserves. The kid knew it was coming. That's why she planted the camera. It had evidently happened before. The wailing child was ...

Matt hit the road back to school this past weekend. It's funny but I remember each trip back to start a new year. Year One: 1982 I got to Gannon without a friend in the world. I knew one guy who was going there, but I didn't like him much. He had played on the Eden basketball team. He gave me a finger in line for my first meal. We became good buddies. Still that first night I laid in bed and nearly cried. I missed my Mom. Thankfully I was drunk and I got to sleep fairly quickly. Year Two: 1983 We all returned a couple of days early. We drank a half-keg a beer the first night back and met the freshman girls as they unpacked their cars. Two days in and they all hated all of us. Thank God I'd had enough beer. The rejection wasn't so bad. Year Three: 1984 Our roommate had sublet our apartment to two very attractive girls. We had no idea. My mother dropped me off and eyed up the situation. "You can't stay here with two girls," Mom said. But I ...

We've had a weird schedule lately. The beautiful wife has been working a different shift that made it impossible to even be in the same room at the same time as I was asleep before her shift ended and gone before she got up in the morning. The boys have had the run of the joint with just one parent around. We've watched a lot of comedy shows in the late afternoons. Baseball always seems to be on as well. So on Saturday we headed out for breakfast. Just the two of us. And what did we discuss? Yeah, the kids. Except there was a twist. "I had a dream that I was pregnant," Kathy said. "With twin boys!" "You'd be on your own," I said. "And I didn't know if I was going to keep them," she said. "And I was afraid to tell you." "I'd be long gone," I said. Again I was sort of ignored. "Can you imagine having twin boys at our age?" My wife seemed to be enjoying the dream. "I...

At the risk of being looked up by an old friend, I spent the morning thinking of an old college buddy who never actually made it past sophomore year. Bert Doring. I have not heard one word about Bert since he left Gannon all those years ago, but I thought of him this morning as my beautiful wife and I shared breakfast and talked about Matt returning to school to start his junior year. Of course, we called Bert Doring...Dirt Boring...but he was anything other than boring. Bert's highlights: 1). I was shooting baskets behind the dorm with a group of people when I went for a pump fake and tore up ligaments in my ankle. I asked Bert to get me some help. He called an ambulance. As we rode to the hospital in the back of the ambulance Bert begged the guy to blare the siren (he did), and he held my hand and whispered, "You're gonna' be all right, Clifford!" at least 70 times. 2). Bert didn't have a lot of luck with the ladies, but when he finally spent...

My middle boy, Jake, is currently obsessed. He wants to learn how to drive. Then he wants a new car. Then he wants to fly around town, picking things up for the family, meeting his friends, driving all across the world. We are a tad skeptical. "I've seen him walk into walls," I said to Kathy. And of course, there's the feeling that we don't want them to grow up. We certainly know the dangers of being out in the big, bad world. But we know that he has to learn to fly on his own. Somehow. Last week I told him to get in the car. "Why?" "I'm taking you driving." He ran to the vehicle and went straight for the driver's side door. "No." I drove to an empty parking lot. He listened as I told him the basic truth. "People die driving every day," I said. "They drive drunk or they die texting. They die because they drive too fast or too careless. It's a responsibility. You have to be s...

Ten years. Time slips away, you know, but in grief it really doesn't. My friends John and Mary lost their daughter ten years ago, and it's strange how life makes it even bigger as time moves on. Now I feel for my friends John, Mary, and their daughters Emily and Melissa too. There were things I didn't know ten years ago...like Heather's beautiful sisters, and how we'd end up being comic foils for one another on social media. Of course, the Cataldo girls are smart, sarcastic beautiful girls now...Emily has a particularly quick wit and she loves making fun of the 'Cliff' character on Twitter. Who would've thought? And the thing that struck me when I saw the photo on one of their pages on Saturday was what I selfishly missed out on as well... ...Heather would've been right there mixing it up too! Life-long friends are often people we sort of take for granted as always being there. I met John when he was four years old. He always laughs ...

So Obama rolled through the area this week. He spoke at the University @ Buffalo and then headed east on the Thruway, in a bus stopping in Rochester and then heading to Syracuse and Binghamton. I make that trip twice a month. With a little less fanfare. And I'm not sure what a trip like that accomplishes. And it doesn't matter who the Prez is...it just seems a lot of time and money for little return. W was up in Niagara Falls when he was in the chair and I got stuck behind that motorcade. It seemed to be a tremendous expense. Can't they just Skype their speech and save some of that cash? As it happens I was in Rome, NY early in the week and the guy who was traveling along with me started humming the Erie Canal song. The damn song got stuck in my head for three days. We were in a fabrication shop where we watched a middle-aged guy working with some huge pieces of steel. The guy was sweating, bleeding and swearing. He was wearing a welding shield and long sl...

Check this out. This is a photo of a young black gal trying to toughen her skin against abuse that she might take if she were to venture out in the world and try and become a productive member of society. The twitter photo stated that it was from a training session that black girls were put through at the time. The lady positioned behind the seated student is hurling racial put-downs at the girl while the man positioned at her shoulder is blowing cigarette smoke into her face. She is being graded on her ability to work through the abuse while controlling her anger at the situation. Of course, the photo and the explanation of it all made me pretty sad. It made me understand just how abusive it was back then. When was the photo taken you ask? 1960!!! That's the part that blew my mind. The other day I was telling my boys the story of buying the Henry Aaron Hammerin' Hank book down in Largo, Florida. I had saved my money for months to be able to buy the book and m...

I know we've talked about this before because I remember writing about 'Hold me Closer Tiny Dancer' and telling you that I always sing 'Hold me closer Tony Danza' substitute line. Yet this morning I was driving around and Bruce's 'Tougher Than the Rest' happened to be playing. Bruce sings: Some girls they want a handsome Dan, or some good-looking Joe. I automatically sang: Some girls they want a handsome Cliff or some good-looking Jeff. Because my college roommate, Jeff 'Fluffy' Taylor used to sing it that way 22 years ago. There was also a line in 'Tunnel of Love' that Fluff had changed on me. Bruce sings: Fat man sitting on a little stool. He takes the money from my hands as his eyes take a walk all over you. (A wonderfully descriptive sentence by the way. Writing-wise it doesn't get much more concise than that). Fluff used to sing: Fuzzy sitting on a little stool. (An equally effective way to write a solid...

Late last week I sat in front of the surgeon who will finally settle down and take an instrument into my left hip and friggin' fix it. "Have you finally had enough?" he asked. "Yeah," I answered. "Let's do it." For those of you trying to keep score. I hurt my hip on January 30, 2012. It was just two months after my second knee surgery in six months. So essentially I have been banged up since early in 2011. When people I haven't seen in awhile run into me they don't even know what to ask about: "How's the knee, back, hip, ass, whatever?" The kids don't know me without either a heating pad or an ice pack somewhere on my body. I refused to take the time off of work to fix everything. I'm actually still not convinced. Have you finally had enough? When the car barreled into me at the stop sign I felt neck, back and groin pain. I got through the neck and back pain, but the groin pain never went away. ...

Just Feel like doing lyrics today - to my buddy Terry) Wrecking Ball by Bruce I was raised out of steel here in the swamps of Jersey, some misty years ago Through the mud and the beer, and the blood and the cheers, I've seen champions come and go So if you got the guts mister, yeah if you've got the balls If you think it's your time, then step to the line, and bring on your wrecking ball Bring on your wrecking ball Bring on your wrecking ball Come on and take your best shot, let me see what you've got Bring on your wrecking ball Bring on your wrecking ball Bring on your wrecking ball Come on and take your best shot, let me see what you've got Bring on your wrecking ball Now my home was here in the Meadowlands, where mosquitoes grow big as airplanes Here where the blood is spilled, the arena's filled, and Giants play their games So raise up your glasses and let me hear your voices call Come on! Because tonight all the dead are here, so bring...

The more I think about it the more pissed off I get. The Buffalo Bills have a ceremony when they want to induct a player or coach or owner onto the ring of honor or wall of honor or wall of fame, or whatever the hell they call it. Whenever you see the names on television as they pan the wall for this prestigious honor there is the name big and bold. O.J. Simpson. You remember O.J., right? 2,003 yards. Fast as hell. Always smiling. Nordberg. TV Commercials. Our biggest star. He's in the Pro Football Hall of Fame. When they honored him he brought his beautiful wife down onto the field and paraded her around. A little while later he chopped off her head. And there his name sits on the wall: O.J. Simpson. Honor. Fame. Well, I am just dumb enough to think that we can start a movement to make the Bills take it down. Take it down. And I know all the stupid excuses. He's on the wall for what he accomplished on the football field. That's bulls...

They say that a picture tells a thousand words. I know that I can write a book off the photo in this blog. In fact, it's a book that I've thought about for a long time. We can all do it. Look at a photo of ourselves from thirty or so years before. Think about the dreams trapped in the head under that mop of hair. That skinny, clear face. All the hopes, dreams, desires. I loved basketball. My finest memories from high school come from wearing that jersey. I could really shoot the ball and I had a funky release. I had a lot of friends too. The one's sitting in the stands used to chant: Fuzzy! Fuzzy! Fuzzy! When I was sitting on the bench. I did a bit of that because I never wanted to do anything but shoot the ball. I was a sensitive kid. I fell hard for girls. I had the best friends in the world. I laughed a lot. I loved my family. I loved my dogs. I respected and loved my Mom. I respected, loved and feared my Dad. I hated my hair! I could never con...

The Buffalo Bills were finally getting good. They were coached by Lou Saban and they had the best running back in football - O.J. Simpson. I was ten. John was eleven. We wanted the Bills to win every week. We loved watching O.J. run. We absolutely begged my Dad to take us to a game. He didn't want to. Of course, I didn't know that at the time. He was a great Dad. He feigned interest. Through the years I came to learn that he sort of hated football. He watched with the rest of us, of course, when the Bills went to 4 straight Super Bowls, but he didn't love it. I think of that day in 1974. I imagine how much he detested sitting in Orchard Park on a cold winter day with us. And it had nothing to do with us, of course. He loved us, or we wouldn't have gone. I only really remembered five things about the game. 1). O.J. went over 1,000 yards on the season. 2). Neither team scored a touchdown. 3). It snowed all through the 2nd half. and 4). It s...

I was real close to getting through my 3rd day without solid food following a nasty bout of the stomach flu. When I remembered something. When I was 19 years old I had a tumor in my throat. Thankfully it was benign but I always remember the operation to remove it because I'd been scared, they didn't knock me out to take it, and it was the size of a golf ball when they showed it to me. That and some kid dumped his bike as my mother was driving me home from the hospital and it hurt like hell to laugh at the goofy bastard going over the handlebars. Anywhoha... Following that surgery I was in a bad way for a few days. I was drinking dinner (and not in the good way), and as you know, whining about my pain. On about day 3 my Dad tried to talk me into eating solid food. I remember being nasty about it. He made it anyway. He brought a full plate of pasta to the living room and set it about a foot from my nose. "I know you can't eat," he said. "B...

Every year the lineup for the first game of the Jeff Fazzolari Thunder Road Memorial Tournament is fairly steady. Jim Fuzzy, John Fuzzy, Cliff Fuzzy were the first three batters this year. Truth be told I led off the previous two years and it's a little troublesome because everyone is watching the first batter. I had made outs both years...so I switched it up. Jim grounded out. John popped out. "Gotta' leave it up to me," I said. I doubled. But I only bring up our first at-bats because I wanted to tell you that I doubled. What happened later in the game was more exciting. Let's flash back. When John was 9 years old he played in a little league game. He was always really fast and he could always catch the ball. In his first little league game he caught a ball in center and threw it in to 2nd for a double play and from there it went to first for a triple play in little league. I remember my Dad going nuts. We were all celebrating. Through...

Read the article about the man who fell to his death at the Atlanta Braves game the other night. He was just a young man with his whole life ahead of him and he went tumbling down 65 feet over a railing and landed in the parking lot. The article quoted his heartbroken mother and father and they were upset... About the configuration of the stadium. About the idea that their boy might've been drinking. There's nothing that can be said. Nothing that can be done. To take away such pain. Back when I was a kid we had the Aud here in Buffalo. That thing was almost straight up and down. For a kid who was pretty scared of everything a trip to the nosebleeds was akin to torture. Even a few years ago when we all went to a Yankee-Indian game Sam was petrified about climbing the stairs. They say the kid may have been out smoking a cigarette and he may have leaned too far over the railing to see into the parking lot. He was 6'7" and I imagine that the protective ...

My buddy was explaining the illness that started for him on Thursday and ravaged him by Sunday. He hadn't eaten anything for two days. "I never get sick," I told him. "It must suck to be a wimp." Then I thought, that his illness must've sucked and my OCD kicked in. I walked way, found my hand sanitizer and went about my day. By the time the tourney ended I felt fatigue and was worried about my legs, but I had plenty of time. I went straight to bed with the heating pad. I would get a great night's sleep before taking a trip to Syracuse. I was up at 12:15. Again at 2:54. Finally out of bed by 4:15. The legs were okay. But I felt weird. I headed for the coffee. Took two sips and poured the rest in the sink. It just hit hard. I'd get a cup on the way. 12 hours later those two swigs of coffee was all I could stomach. I made a couple of visits but the legs were wobbly. It must suck to be a wimp. I just knew that I wasn't...

There were so many wonderful moments at the Memorial Softball Tourney for Jeff. Almost too many to mention, but each wonderful moment has been filed away, and through the next several weeks our family will thank all who helped make it another rousing success for Jeff's kids. But as I sit behind the keyboard, hardly feeling anything other than pain, I just smile at so many things: My wonderful cousins from Maryland and Delaware who just give and give and give. My cousin Mary Ann bringing a beautiful banner that welcomed all to the tourney with photos of Jeff and the kids - it simply brought tears to about 300 eyes. Jan, Diane, Pops, Jeffy, Millie...just so many people. Dave Neisser who provided wonderful memorabilia. Dave is my son Sam's all-time favorite. My Uncle Lenny who won the signed baseball from Yankee pitcher David Phelps, and promptly handed the ball to Sam. My cousin Sally who came from Florida to be there. And the baskets! Just wonderful donations for a b...

I really took a lot of time with my peppers this year. I honestly spent about $50 in cheese and shrimp. My idea had been a garlic peppercorn shrimp pepper, and since I ate about 12 of them, I must say, they were a strong entry. But then, even before I got to the contest, I had two of Pops' peppers. At that point I was shooting for 2nd. But even he didn't place! The contest is getting out of hand. My niece Paige just kicked butt this year. (Although the meatballs had the Carrieness - she always made the best meatballs). So we were beat by a young chef. Let me tell you, it was a great pepper. And there were 10 others that fell into the same category. Just great. By the way. Since Thursday night I've had a bunch of peppers. Lucky for you, I counted them. 27 so far. With one big event to go. (I'm thinking I'll have a bowl of cereal before it starts).

So how did it all start? We got the invitation in the mail without any warning. Jeff & Lynn were throwing the Garlic & Pepper Party. "What the hell is this?" Kathy had asked. "Who knows? Another hair-brained scheme." Then Jeff called. "Did you get the invite?" "Yeah. I ain't stuffing no peppers." "Come on, it'll be fun." And here we are a lot of years later. Big Sis, Corinne, has picked up the torch and the party has grown to epic proportions. My entry for this year is above. (I will let you know how I fared - the party ended too late for this blog's edition). But that first one was the real deal. "Here's your stuffing," Jeff said all those years ago. "Just get it in the pepper and you'll be on the leader board." There's some dispute about the order that day, but my peppers did win. Not first place, mind you. Jeff won that. Yet his 2nd best recipe als...

We Take Care of Our Own by Bruce Springsteen I've been knockin' on the door that holds the throne I've been lookin' for the map that leads me home I've been stumblin' on good hearts turned to stone The road of good intentions has gone dry as bone We take care of our own We take care of our own Wherever this flag's flown We take care of our own From Chicago to New Orleans From the muscle to the bone From the shotgun shack to the Superdome We yelled "help" but the cavalry stayed home There ain't no-one hearing the bugle blown We take care of our own We take care of our own Wherever this flag's flown We take care of our own Where the eyes, the eyes with the will to see Where the hearts, that run over with mercy Where's the love that has not forsaken me Where's the work that set my hands, my soul free Where's the spirit that'll reign, reign over me Where's the promise, from sea to shining sea Wh...

Sometimes I hear from someone who has read something that I've written and they tell me how much it has meant to them. That's an astounding thing, and something that is hard to comprehend. I've always said that the writing is an isolated event that, if you're lucky, finds a connection. Connecting with others is the very basis of this life. We are heading into a weekend where that matters an awful lot to me. I anticipate seeing a lot of people who I really love. One sentence will play over and over in my mind. Let love give what it gives. It started for us on Thursday night. A simple exchange of texts to my brother John, my brother-in-law Chuck and Pops. We were gonna' stuff the peppers. All we needed to know was the time. Then it all came together. We settled into our spots on the assembly line. There wasn't much in the way of discussion of who would perform what task. We'd been doing similar things for over twenty years. We stuffed about...

Is it possible to hate an entire corporation? I think it is. I hate Time-Warner Cable. They make me wait. They charge crazy prices. Their customer service people drive me insane. I'm not even allowed to try and call them to complain. I bring all of this up because I was trying to write a whole bunch of reports in a hurry yesterday and when I went to send them out, Time Warner decided to slow down their e-mail delivery. It happens at least twice a month. And as I sat there stewing, it really got to me that I just hate being held up. The most frustrating thing in all of life is to be ready to do something and have to wait. I'm awful at it. I lay on the horn when someone is going 22 MPH in a 45. I can't stand the morons who come to a full stop in the E-Z Pass 20 MPH lane. And don't get me started on the 'I gotta' run in the store' for a minute dialogue that is presented when I'm ready to go somewhere. I can't take it! I tell ...

Okay, we've all heard the song. The other day, a good friend of mine stated that she was a little less enamored with the tune now that she got older as it may exploit and objectify women. I looked into it, a bit. Here are JC's lyrics. Jack & Diane by John Mellencamp Little ditty bout Jack and Diane Two American kids growin' up in the heartland Jackie's gonna be a football star Diane debutante backseat of Jackie's car Suckin' on chili dogs outside the tastee freeze Diane's sittin' on Jackie's lap He's got his hand between her knees Jackie say 'Hey Diane lets run off Behind a shady tree Dribble off those Bobby Brooks Let me do what I please.' And Jackie Say: 'Oh yeah life goes on Long after the thrill of livin' is gone Oh yeah say life goes on Long after the thrill of livin' is gone.' They walk on Jackie sits back reflects on his thoughts for the moment Scratches his head and does his best Jam...

Read a story this morning about the ABC reporter who used to be Dawn Ennis. This morning he's Don Ennis. Back in May he went from Don to Dawn. Now back to Don. Confused? Think about his poor freaking wife. You see, Don always believed that he was a man trapped in a woman's body. So through the years of his marriage and career he became convinced that he was living a lie. So Don grew some breasts, put on an auburn wig and fed his friends a lifetime of one-liners by announcing to the world, and that shell-shocked wife of his, that from that moment on he was gonna' be Dawn. He looked about what you'd expect. Err, I mean She. Well, Dawn stuck around for about three months. I'm thinking it was too much of a chore to be a woman. I mean with those purses and shoes and bras and isolated moments of daydreaming that lead to hair-brained ideas about.... ...whoops...better stop. Don is back. He said he had amnesia for three months. He said that he...

I waver on my crushes of women who would love me if they just had the chance to meet me. Alyssa Milano was a crush early on. Who didn't know she'd be beautiful? Same with Winnie Cooper. I felt every single moment of angst that Kevin felt as he tried to get Winnie to love him. But the title of the blog might be my all-time number one crush. Okay...I laugh at my boys whenever they catch one of the reality shows with my beautiful wife. We are currently in the middle of the Big Brother series...and it's on the big television three times a week. I have sat there while it's played in the background, trying to think of clever things to write on Facebook. I couldn't name a character on the show if you held a gun to my head. But I had my Big Brother moment. It was with the show: My So Called Life. Claire Danes was the star and she was a high school girl trying to figure it out. As luck might have it she had a crush on Jared Leto. A good-looking guy, I...

Every year of my life the excitement of a new season has begun in about February. As the snow flies here in Buffalo I begin by reading the baseball preview issue. By the time the games begin in April, I'm an emotional mess. In the late 90's and early '00's I just couldn't get enough information. About Jeter and Bernie and Rivera and Posada and O'Neill and Brosius and Pettite. They were guys who battled hard. They were all upstanding citizens. The Yankees just kept winning. I remember where I was when the deal was announced that A-Rod would be joining the team. Soriano was going away in the deal, but how could it be bad? As much as I didn't like A-Rod, his talents were not in dispute. I learned to like him even less. And this year he's doing the impossible. He's making a man, who for 40 years would eat, sleep and dream baseball, skip stories about the sport. A-Rod is ruining baseball for me. And he's not alone. Not by any stret...

Went to a graduation party a couple of weeks ago and was stuck playing one game that I hate - horsehoes. I don't hate the concept, of the game, and I certainly didn't mind spending time with three of my best buddies in the world, but I have to hate the game. Because I've always really sucked at it. Yet, as luck might have it, I have one buddy who is a freak at all things competitive and I have made a lot of money just being his partner in a lot of two-man events. I cheer him on. He tells me how bad I suck. We win. So we started throwing shoes. The other team battled right along, but I captained my team to victory by 21 to 15. I scored one point. That particular shoe slipped out of my hand. I let everyone know what a great toss it was. While we played I thought of all the other games we'd all played through the years. Basketball, tennis, baseball. Game after game. We all had a few skills. A couple of the guys playing had a lot of skills. I alway...

You know what one of the cool things about life is? Doing something, or making a movement and thinking: "That was just like something my Dad would do." Of course I hear him in my voice when I'm bantering with the kids. Dad's right there in my laughter when I say something biting that makes the guy I'm insulting (playfully sometimes) laugh. (The guy thinks I'm kidding). Dad was the king of that. And there are moments when it really hits me, of course. Like today. He's been gone for three years. That's a lot of days when you realize that there were so many that preceded it that you couldn't imagine life without him. But he's not really gone, right? My Dad commanded a room. "You always knew right where he was," I often say to people in way of description. "He was a quiet introspective man," I say to get a laugh sometimes. But Dad was way more than all of that. He was a presence. A whirlwind. A f...

The story is already well past old. Weiner has to pull out, doesn't he? Or will Weiner stay in and keep plugging? The real story being that the New York newspapers are having a blast with the whole sordid tale. What got me about it is that evidently he had 5 or 6 sessions a DAY with his sexting partner. A DAY! My first thought was that he truly needed to get a job. My second thought was an old joke that I heard once. I had such a thorough masturbation session that when I woke up my penis was in the kitchen making breakfast. And therein lies the problem with the world these days. All of these things are in the newspaper, in blogs, on the news. You have supposedly reputable news people (is there such a group) snickering as they ask whether Weiner has pulled out. It's crazy! And his sexting partner - Syd Leathers is now looking for a way to cash in. She's considering porn. She's aspiring to write a book or star in a movie. (These people that end...

Farrah is going to be there! Johnny is going to be there! Rocco is going to be there! August 11, 2013 at 11 a.m. Come a little early if you're going to get on a team. Same fun as the last two years: An epic basket auction! Great softball! Pops' peppers!! What else would you rather be doing. We have a great time. A ton of laughs. And it's a weekend of absolute beauty in North Collins as the Team Georgie Kickball Tourney is the day before. I will be there! I may be in a wheelchair on Monday! Jeff wants you to celebrate!!