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Showing posts from October, 2013

I Took A Day Off...Almost

I really don't strive for perfect attendance at work. It just sort of happens that way. I'll begin the year thinking that I will take the vacation time granted me, but then I'll glance at the calendar in September and think: "Damn! I missed it." This year is a little different as I have an operation coming up. (What's a year without a surgery?) So, I sort of went at it hard, knowing that days at the end of the year would be needed. Yet those aren't days off, you know? So during the past weekend I tried to talk myself into just extending the weekend by a day. I wouldn't miss work. The phone would be on and I could hang by the computer, but I didn't need to rush out to visit locations, did I? I discussed the matter with the boys. "You'll go," Sam said. "There's something wrong with you." And sure enough I was up and out of bed by five. "What would I do if I stayed home?" I asked Melky. &

It Ain't That Easy

We watched a movie on Saturday night. I couldn't tell you the name of it. The guy who used to be on Talk Soup was in it. He was a best-selling author who had two kids who were also authors. The first kid was a 19-year-old girl who wrote two books while humping every guy she met, and while fighting with her brother and mother and father penned these books in a moments time. We see her having champagne toasts while she is lauded by guys in tweed jackets as a true talent. She talks about the next one she's going to write. Presumably on the car ride home. Then, not to be out-done her 16-year-old brother sits down and in one scene he types really fast. Then his phone rings and Stephen King is on the line telling him he's great. Umm, ok. Here's the real world. You commit to writing something that means something to you. You toil at it for a full year, and it encompasses all your waking moments. It's right there in the back of your mind while you're doi

Tighty-Whities

So during the Breaking Bad phase of our lives there came a time when we had a family discussion about the tighty-whities that Walter wore. Let me set the scene: I was in my spot, heating pad, blankie and Melky right beside me. Jake was next on the couch, watching the show in season 5 again even though he had already finished the series. "This is the one where Jessie dies," he'd say as we started each new episode. (I swear I don't know where these children have learned to be so sarcastic). My beautiful wife was across the way, and she snickered when Walter came running out in his underpants. "He looks ridiculous in those," Jake said. "Hey!" I yelled. I too wear that style. "Don't you think he looks ridiculous?" Kathy asked. I was in a tough spot here. "If I say he looks ridiculous than I must look ridiculous," I said. "Oh, you look a hundred times worse," Jake answered. So there we have it

Dropped Dead

Ran into an old friend the other day. We'd worked together back when they were re-doing the Ralph Wilson Stadium one summer back about 16 years ago. The site had been a real rough one as there were 700 workers out there and the fun of being at the stadium every day was sort of neat. I remember walking around the field thinking about those Super Bowl runs. Of course, that job is what soured me on football too. Seeing how the players were treated like royalty sort of pulled back the curtain on it for me. I saw the little guy who ran the Mighty Oz show. It all suddenly seemed fake and the players looking down their noses at guys who work a lot harder than them changed everything. Yet the story behind the trip down memory lane was in the talking about past people we knew in common. I asked about one guy who was a colossal pain in the ass back then. I had really sort of despised the guy because he was downright miserable most of the time. "He dropped dead," my buddy said

I'll Bring It Up!

Okay, so I have a single, closing eye on the World Series. No matter what they do to the sport I have to watch. I enjoy it that much. McDumbass and Joe Buckhead can't even ruin it. I mute 'em. I've been doing that since 2000. Yet what is really grating on me this year is the love affair with Big Papi. Quick. What do you know about him? Nothing. Every single article I read about him exalts his greatness. He's the face of Boston Strong. He's the captain of the home run derby. He's always smiling. Seems like a great guy. You know why he's smiling? BECAUSE HE GOT AWAY WITH IT! Think about it. He's the only one that got clean away from the steroid stink. A-Rod is seen as a downright criminal. Ortiz failed the exact same drug test the first time. A-Rod held a press conference. Ortiz scratched his head and said he'd 'get back to us on how that happened.' Then what happened? A-Rod spent ten years getting investig

Defending Jacob

The rusty wire that holds the gate that keeps the anger in, gives way, and suddenly, it's day again, - Roger Waters of Pink Floyd. First of all, Waters is a genius. Secondly, I've been singing that phrase over and over in my head because I'm reading a book about a father, who's son, stands accused of murder. The Dad doesn't see the violence in his kid, of course, but worries about the fact that violence was handed down. Years ago I read about Jeffrey Dahmer and his father said that he knew something like that might happen because he always believed there was violence in the family. Old man Dahmer said he had a dream that he was a murderer so he wasn't surprised that his son eventually got it done. Weird. Could that be true? I know that my beautiful wife is leery of it in the Fazzolari blood. Not that I'm violent, by any means, but once in awhile the rusty wire that holds the gate does give way. My entire anger explosion lasts for about ten m

To Do List

Some things I'd Love to Do Someday: 1). Make vanilla pudding and put it in a mayo jar and eat spoonfuls of it in public. 2). Hire two privater investigators and get them to follow each other. 3). Wear a shirt that says "Life" and then hand out lemons on the street corner. 4). Get into a crowded elevator and say, "I bet you're all wondering why I asked you to meet me here." 5). Stand at a fast-food line and ask people "Why they want fries with their order." And then tell 'em how bad they are for them. 6). Run into a crowded store and ask: "WHAT YEAR IS IT!" When they answer I'll run out screaming: "IT WORKED!" 7). Become a Doctor and then change my last name to ACULA. 8). Change my name to Simon and then always speak in the 3rd person. 9). Buy a parrot and then teach the parrot to say: "These bastards turned me into a bird." 10). Follow joggers around in my car and blast "Eye of

I Want Another Beer and Way Over His Head

Read a couple of stories the other day that have just stuck right in the middle of my chest and have sort of churned away. The worst about both stories is that they were true. Real-life murder stories that make you really wonder about how and why people get so lost. The first was about a father and son in another state. It seemed Dad considered his weekly sacrifices to be worthy of a Sunday out, watching football, and getting blasted. The story went into the dynamics of it all as they spoke of the hard-working man who felt entitled to having some time of his own. A lot of men get in trouble when they start asking: "What about my life?" The family you are tasked to take care of is your life, stupid. But a compromise was reached. Dad would go to a bar and drink and watch football. His 19-year-old son would go along and serve as the designated driver. The wife set up the day for him so he could blow off steam. And it worked out well. Dad drank a dozen beers and

World Series Preview

So, it pains me to even think about a World Series starting with the 27-Time World Champion Greatest Franchise in the History of American Sports on the sideline. "Stop living in the past," my friends say when I post 27 on their message boards. "Yesterday was the past," I write back. "Ten minutes ago was the past. We have to live in the past, you dopey bastard." They don't know how to answer that. But we have the Suck Sox going for title #6 against the Cardinals going for title #12. Still a long ways to go, people. 27 minus 6 = 21 more than the Suck Sox. 27 minus 12 = 15 more than the Cards. Still really safe. But I won't be watching much, despite my love of baseball. First, Joe Buck and Tim McCarver are mind-numbingly stupid. I always tell my kids that if I ever stand right before each man I'd wait for them to extend their hand to shake and then I'd punch them in the jaw. They've caused me way too much angst with t

Walter White: The Conclusion

Talk about a letdown. We finished Breaking Bad . The six seasons took us under two months, and it was real weird to watch a series that way. Walter, Jessie, Skyler, Hank and Flynn became a part of our family. We'd watch a couple of episodes and then I'd go to sleep and think of them. All through the next day I'd think about what had happened. Then we'd watch a couple more. So as we got close to the conclusion I felt a true sense of dread. Not because of what I figured what was coming, but because it was finishing up. I'd always felt the same way when I'd finish a long piece of writing. I'll never forget closing the black notebook when I finished up Eye in the Sky about 25 years ago. "It's done," I whispered. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. I walked around in an absolute funk. "What the hell do I do now?" With the writing, back then, it was always about doing something new and finding a new angle. I&

The Stone

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Had a few moments of panic last week. I'd lost my stone. The very first blog I ever wrote for this site was about that stone. My then 7 year-old son, Jake, had handed it to me on my 40th birthday. Just before I pitched it back into the ditch where he'd picked it up my beautiful wife said: "He's been polishing it all morning." So, naturally, I've been carrying it around with me ever since. It's the greatest of all presents, right? Well, as my birthday approached, I thought of it. I went to the spot in my car (the tiny space of my driver's side door panel) where I keep a lot of stuff: A golf tee handed out at the funeral of a good man. The thumb rosary my sister gave me when Jake was sick 13 years ago. A small photo of my bro. And the stone. Everything else was there, but the stone was gone. I spent the better part of a couple of hours searching through the car. I brought the seats forward. I looked in the glove box. I rifled t

Taking Stock

It's kind of weird how the year is set up for me. It seems that each year around my birthday I start looking back at what has passed, and the concept of marking time is a strange thing. What's the difference if we start something after October 18th or before? "I'm gonna' start my diet on Monday," someone will invariably say as they shovel a huge lunch into their mouth on Friday. Why can't we just start when we wanna' start? We gotta' put a time frame on it to give it a chance to work. Anywhoha... Back to the taking stock portion of it all. I can feel it too. The feeling of dissatisfaction as the birthday date approaches. "It's a lonely proposition when we realize there's left time in front then what's in back of the horse." There was a lot of hand-wringing in the days leading up to the marking of my arrival on the planet. But I got High Hopes. And the day came in like so many others in the past few hour

Facebook Birthdays

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O.K. Let's start with the premise that I'm a tad mentally ill. You're all still with me, right? I need to write a blog a day. Nothing right about that. I stay at the same hotel room, preferably the same room every time I go out of town. I unpack the same way. I follow all the same rituals. I do these sorts of things at home as well. If there is work to do, I must do it before sleep. I don't have a single email in my in-box on any accounts. Ever. So Facebook birthdays really mess me up! You see, it is easy for people to wish you a 'Happy Birthday'. Yesterday I heard from everyone I ever met, seemingly. I appreciated every single wish and since they took the time to say 'Hi' I took the time to answer. And normal people handle it the normal way. At the end of the day they write one post saying: "Thank you for the birthday wishes. I had a nice day." Not me. I try to answer each wish almost immediately with somethi

Happy Birthday to Me

Tim Scott McConnell (who wrote the song) and Mr. Springsteen, as a birthday present to me, produced the post today. This is one song that really didn't get a lot of play. Love the sentiment. He sings the hell out of it as well. It's recommended. High Hopes Monday morning runs to Sunday night Screaming slow me down before the new year dies It won't take much to kill a loving smile And every mother with a baby crying in her arms singing: Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days you pay for everything I Got high hopes Coming from the cities, coming from the wild I see a breathless army breaking like a cloud It's gonna smother love it's gonna shoot your hopes Before the meek inherit they'll learn to hate themselves Singing Give me help, give me strength Give a soul a night of fearless sleep Give me love, give me peace Don't you know these days y

Quoted????

I received this email because my name was in it. Was I actually quoted? Doesn't fit the context, but I laughed at all of them. Why Athletes Can't Have Regular Jobs The danger of having role models for kids................ 1. Chicago Cubs outfielder Andre Dawson on being a role model: "I wan' all dem kids to do what I do, to look up to me. I wan' all the kids to copulate me." 2. New Orleans Saint RB George Rogers when asked about the upcoming season: "I want to rush for 1,000 or 1,500 yards, whichever comes first." 3. And, upon hearing Joe Jacobi of the 'Skin's say: "I'd run over my own mother to win the Super Bowl," Matt Millen of the Raiders said: "To win, I'd run over Joe's Mom, too." 4. Torrin Polk, University of Houston receiver, on his coach, John Jenkins: "He treat us like mens. He let us wear earrings." 5. Football commentator

Get the Stretcher!

Watched a lot of football this past weekend. The Bills have been entertaining this year despite the fact they've lost 4 of 6. My son Sam is in the middle of betting against his Uncle Chuck and I've had to keep an eye on that as well. He lost last year and it cost me $240. Watching Chuck shovel free steak wasn't the best feeling ever. Sam has a lead so far. Yet the league has changed since we were young. There are a lot of personal fouls now for hits in the head area and I suppose that was bound to happen since there are a lot of middle-aged men walking around with scrambled brains from having been in the league. In the Pittsburgh game one of their wide receivers caught a pass and had a clear lane to the end zone. Rather than waltzing over the line he did a flip, landing on his back. He was about six feet in the air. "Would you do that if you scored?" Sam asked. "First off, I couldn't get open. Secondly, I would have dropped the throw. Thirdly,

Fifty! 50!! Freaking Fifty Years Old

This has to go back about 33 or 34 years. We were on bikes, heading towards a girl's house. It didn't matter which one of us liked the girl because we sort of just dated a whole bunch of them, dropped them off to save money, and then went to eat. We were on Mile Block Road in North Collins just by the cemetery where Mile Block intersects with Brant Road. We were talking about something, just casually riding, side-by-side when a car came up over the hill. It was going about 80 mph. We had little time to react and we both ended up being scraped by the bumper. Our bikes turned over. I might've made the ditch. Jeffy landed just in front of it. We nearly died right there. A two for one deal. My heart was pounding as I thought about that car nearly striking us down. "At least the cemetery is right there," was all that Jeff said. And we laid on the side of the road laughing. The near-death experience seems like it was about ten minutes ago, but today is J

Foot Meet Mouth

So every once in awhile as I do my job I get a real bad phone call. A couple of weeks ago one of those calls came through. A 60-year-old man had fallen from a roof deck to the ground below. The paramedics were taking him from the scene. He'd landed on his rear end and while all appeared to be okay, he had a lot of pain in his rib area. I got to the site within the hour. Knowing that the man had fallen about 14' told me a couple of things: First, he was breaking the rules. There's a 6' rule for some sort of protection. He hadn't had any. But secondly, and more importantly, I was going to have to be a bit of a bulldog with the guys who remained on the site because there was a chance that OSHA could eventually ask some questions. And thirdly, I had to document all of it because in this day and age there's a good chance that a lawsuit can be filed. So, off I went. When I got to the site I was greeted by another man of about 60. He was eating his lunch.

Jinkies

Woke up on Saturday morning thinking about cartoons. Remember how they were the big deal when we were young? We didn't get much of a chance to see them during the week on the 3 channels we got with the antenna pulled way up and tin foil wrapped on the end. Seriously. Tell your spoiled-rotten-dopey-bastards about those times. Yet we did get some classics. Bugs Bunny was awesome. When the Looney Tunes deal played it was all about waiting for Bugs, right? He'd just mow through whoever was in his way, chomping on the carrot and cracking wise. Bugs was one of my first heroes. I was also real partial to The Flintstones. The friendship between Fred and Barney was epic and even into my 20's I'd watch them. I had an apartment that was just around the corner from where I was working and on my lunch hour I'd head home and catch about 20 minutes of the Stones as I ate my sandwich. But a true American classic was Scooby-Doo. We all watched it, right? What m

How?

When a story like the story of football player Adrian Peterson's kid comes down the line don't you just wonder, how? Peterson's son was living with the child's mother. Allegedly the boyfriend of the girl beat the baby to death. Two years old. It is hard to fathom, right? There is simply no reason why this should happen. And make no mistake, it happens every day, somewhere in this country. Back when I was working on House of Miracles I spoke to one of the doctors about it. I was a bit naive when I asked the question. "How do you control your anger?" I asked. "It's not up to me to be angry about it," he said. "I am, of course, but my job is to try and save the child. I don't have time to feel hate." As the story of the death of Peterson's son broke there were two guys talking about it on sports radio. They were debating whether or not Peterson should play on Sunday. Then they were talking about what should b

From November 29, 2008 - The Carrot

The Carrot This time of year it is easy to motivate the children. Not only is Christmas just around the corner, but the WWE is also coming to town and thanks to my sister, Corinne, and brother-in-law Chuck, we have great seats. "Clean your room if you want to go to wrestling," or "Let the dogs out if you really want what's on your Christmas list." I have boys hopping around the house to get things done. And thankfully there is usually something that gets you up and out of bed on any given day. Kathy was looking forward to this weekend for shopping purposes - exhausted and full of shopping stories, she sat on the couch last night with eyes that were barely open: "Was it all that you imagined?" I asked. Bruce's new album is out at the end of January. Pitchers and catchers report in February. The Yanks begin their 27th title search in April. There is always something there to attract our attention. Yet what of the days when we are just d

Stick It Up Your....

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So it was a beautiful day Wednesday in Buffalo. I was out visiting job sites. One after another. I was marveling at the progress in the city. I had also planned my visits so that I could grab a Godfather sandwich off the truck on the corner of Delaware and West Huron. Tomaso's. The guy makes a good sandwich. The Godfather is sausage and steak and provolone on a hoagie roll. I paid the money for parking - fifty cents for ten freaking minutes and I headed to the truck. People are nice in Buffalo. You can't pass someone without someone saying hello. My mood was all right despite working like a crazed man lately. I chatted with the guy making my sandwich. He took his time. I thought about where my car was parked because as nice as the people are that's how rude the parking enforcement assholes are. I got my sandwich and headed back to the car so I could eat it while reading about the state of the Sabres and Bills. They're as bad as the sandwich was good

A Rerun

Originally posted on July 24, 2010. Still applies: (Hey, I can quote myself!). Everything I truly do know; take these to the bank. 1). Life is better with a breaded pork chop in your hands. Better yet with another one on the plate waiting for you to finish the first one. 2). In most cases the person who loves you most in your life will be your mother. A few of the dogs you own throughout your life will love you just as much, but it's a little different sort of love. Or is it? 3). During his lifetime, Herman Melville's Moby Dick sold only 50 copies. 4). God will not provide for you. He will give you the means to provide for yourself, but you have to make it happen. 5). The longer you live the more you'll regret the things you haven't done as opposed to regretting the things you have. 6). The best path to happiness is doing something for somebody else. 7). Ain't no one going to give you what you really need in life. This journey is a solo act, no mat

Walter White Part 3

So just like that we are in Season 5. "It's doing something to your personality," my 16-year-old said. "Yo, bitch, why would you say that?" I answered. And perhaps it would have been best to savor it all in a long-drawn-out 5 year span. I'm sure that I would have been able to digest each episode over the course of a week's time rather than waiting the 20-seconds on NetFlix and considering my wife's question: "One more?" Perhaps that would've been better, but I imagine that I will refer this time in my life as the "Breaking Bad" period. The acting is incredible. Jessie is my favorite character. The fact that money and greed eventually makes them all break bad is disconcerting, but true to life. I know very few people who would do the exact right thing if huge profits stared them in the eye. Sad to say, but true. I know others who wouldn't even seriously consider doing the right thing. The writing is

27-Time World Champion...

...Greatest Franchise in the History of Organized Sports. Yeah. The New York F&*$ing Yankees. So. For the 2nd time in 21 seasons the Yankees aren't in the playoffs. I am reminded of that fact at least three times a day by my buddies. Some of whom are Bills fans. Zero for 44 in Super Bowl Years. (Close don't count). The Yankees have won 7 times in those 44 years. Some of whom are Sabres fans. Zero. I remember crying on the edge of my Dad's bed after the Pathetic Flyers beat the Sabres in the cup finals. (Shut-up, Gag). "They'll win one soon," Dad said as he consoled me. 37 years later. When, Dad? When? And then there are inexplicably Mets fans who bring up the subject. Why there are Mets fans, first of all, is disconcerting and secondly, seriously? Remember the 2000 Subway Series? The biggest drama in that series was whether or not it'd be a sweep. (Almost was. Torre threw them one game). But the Red Sux fans ar

Impasse

It all seems rather juvenile, doesn't it? The party leaders are now into the "I've offered to talk and you don't wanna' talk-portion of the finger-pointing-school-yard-bullshit-asshole-my Dad can beat up your Dad-your momma' sucks argument. We've all been in arguments, right? We've all had moments in our lives when we've cut off conversation with someone because we just don't wanna' deal with their crap anymore. Often times we've had to compromise and work out a solution because despite all of our anger, we've needed the other person. If the willing to compromise is gone, however, the relationship might just come to a merciful end. Sometimes you get so sick of the fighting you lose your fear of the end. (My buddy Bruce taught me that). Not sure if the morons involved in the governmental impasse can figure that out, but I've always been pretty good at caving in my personal life. Because I don't much care for dire

I Met the Joker

Went to a meeting the other day and there was a guy in the meeting who had a sort of misshaped mouth that made it look like he was smiling all the time. It was weird. The meeting was a serious sort of affair where we were going over policies and procedures and every time I locked eyes with the guy as I was talking...he seemed to be smiling. So I sort of smiled back. Then his brow furrowed a bit because he must of thought that there was something wrong with me. Why would I be smiling while talking about compressed air during a confined space meeting? I think the guy thought I was making a pass at him or something. Moments later someone else started talking and he turned to look at her and I sort of gauged the fact that, like the joker, his face was a perpetual smile. Then he must of felt my eyes upon him cause he turned to look at me quickly, and I darted my eyes away. He must of thought: "What the f&*$k's up with this guy?" As the meeting ended t

Firing On The Capitol

Don't you think it's sad? I hesitate to even talk about any national events because there is way too much anger. Everyone is angry. Everyone has picked a side. People I love are absolutely bitter and mean because we may be on different sides of an issue. And we're all to blame. I have my opinions. You have yours. We're all free to express them. That's the beauty of this country. But why all the anger? I guess we are learning from the so-called leaders, right? If there's an R in front of your name you're automatically an idiot in the eyes with those with a D in front of their names. And definitely vice-versa. It's enough, isn't it? I was typing reports when the television show was interrupted by news of shots on the capitol. I barely looked up. There's not a single thing that can happen that might surprise me. We're living in day of chaos and turmoil. And perhaps it's a simple case of one nut-bag trying to m

So...I Tried Crystal Meth

Did you get thrown by the blog title? I only tried crystal meth in my dreams. Yeah, the Breaking Bad mess I'm in. We have been watching the show pretty regularly and I had a real vivid dream about actually taking a bump from a really old friend. Actually I got the hit from my next-door neighbor from back in my childhood. In the dream it really messed me up and I was promptly stopped by the cops as I was driving my little red Corvette well over the speed limit. Perhaps we best take a bit of a break. But we can't. Because the show is as addicting as crack. Or meth. There has been plenty of pontificating going on in regard to the government shutdown. I can remember way, way, way back listening to the radio play the resignation of Richard Nixon. It's one of those weird things that happened that stuck with me through the years. Dad was driving. Mom was in the passenger seat. We were all stacked like little monkeys in the backseat and I was leaning into the

23 or 50?

A couple of weeks ago Derek Jeter attended a Michigan College Football game. The camera caught him in his seat next to a beautiful young girl who was his date for the evening. "Nice," I said. There wasn't much of a comment from the area where my beautiful wife was seated. A couple of days passed. I honestly didn't give it another thought. Yet my wife did some research. "You remember the girl with Jeter at that football game?" She asked. "Oh yeah," I said. "Turns out she's a swimsuit model. You know how old she is?" She didn't wait for an answer. "She's 23! What does he talk to a 23-year old about? He's like 40, right?" I actually laughed. "Let me put it this way," I said. "There's a breakdown somewhere and suddenly I can have any woman in the world, any time I want her. Do you think I'll pick a 48 year old?" I knew I was treading on wobbly ground. "Firs

Shut it Down

How many times, in the last couple of years, have we heard about the government discussing shutting down their business because of the in-fighting? Do you even pay attention to it anymore? Doesn't it all seem rather juvenile? I guess the latest problem is the health care bill that was made into law by a vote that went through the senate and the house. They passed it! Now some of them don't want it? So they're gonna' take their ball and go home? I know that I'm naive when it comes to the games they play and the dishonesty of all of it, but wouldn't it stand to reason that the one way to change things is to introduce a new bill and work to have elements of what you don't want re-done? Is that too much work? I'm sorry. It just all smacks of absolute laziness and politics based on who you hate more than who it may or may not help. I can't even begin to understand the workings of the healthcare bill, but don't worry about me, I did