Thoughts of a Common Man

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caught the 48 Hours recap of the JFK shooting of 50 years ago. I have read quite a bit about it, of course, through the years, but I had never seen live footage of the shooting or a documented recap of it all. All of it was sort of horrifying. I suppose that the shooting should take center stage, but just how we lived back then was fascinating to me. There was a shot of men entering the police station at one point and there was a hat on each man's head, and I'm not talking a Yankee hat either. A regular old top hat. Women were all in dresses and high-heels and everyone sort of looked dignified. I didn't see nary one eye piercing. And then the way that the news was reported. They showed concerned Americans gathered around a transistor radio and most of the people they interviewed talked about the loud-speaker announcement that they heard. Everyone alive knew exactly where they were and what they were doing. "Grandma just had Uncle John," I told Sam. ...

1). Boy that Rob Ford is something, isn't he? I read late yesterday that he is going to declare war to try and keep his job. He can't understand why people haven't accepted his apology and just moved on. He gets plastered, smokes crack once in awhile and speaks his mind. What's so wrong with that? Doesn't he get that a lot of people aren't fond of the leaders smoking crack? I know, I know, Pops - he was framed. 2). And what about George Zimmerman? For the second time since he got away with murder he's been in the middle of a domestic dispute and each time there were references to his having the gun at ready. I understand that people who moan about the gun deaths in this country are wimps who are coming after the guns, but can't there be a rule that if you're thrice complained against in a violent situation that we can take your guns away? I am willing to bet that there are people who would still defend Zimmerman's right to own as ma...

I gotta' hand it to my kids. They won't give up. "I have a song you'll like," Jake said to me the other day. "It's an Eminem video that's funny." He sat beside me on the couch and handed me his phone. The song was all set to go. It was funny. The video was well done. The lyrics were understandable. Pee Wee Herman's laugh was featured prominently, and that made me laugh. "I got another one," Jake said. This one was a bit more serious. It was about a stalker fan who didn't hear from Eminem and became violent and was killed while in pursuit. Again. It was thoughtful. "He's good, isn't he?" Jake asked. And I'm in a weird position here because I am not a fan of hip-hop. I kind of like the music in music. You know...piano...guitar...drums. The music behind this particular genre is usually produced on a computer. The words are also really fast, and there's a lot of anger behind all of...

So, went through the pre-op for my upcoming hip surgery. There were a couple of surprises. "Will I be out by Thanksgiving dinner?" I asked the helpful nurse. "Depends on what he sees. If he wants to go ahead and replace the hip, probably not." "Replace it? I thought I was just fixing a muscle," I said. "Maybe. He'll know when he sees the damage. You got a good tear." I thought about that for a moment. "Who's making that decision?" I asked. "You have a proxy form filled out?" She asked. I shrugged. "Is that something my wife is in charge of?" She laughed. "Most likely." "I'm not allowed to rent a movie without permission," I said. "So, I'd imagine." I got another laugh. So, there it is. My old hip is in the hands of a woman that I hadn't even met 25 years ago. Weird. Right? Yet the even bigger conversation was coming. "So, if some...

We were watching The Big Bang Theory the other night and Leonard and Sheldon were talking about a task that Leonard had left undone. The failure to complete the task caused Sheldon angst. "You don't understand. When something is left hanging it causes an itch on my brain and makes me feel uncomfortable." That right there has been all of the angst in my married life. It scares me to think, but they make fun of poor Shelly for being weird on the show. I certainly see myself in some of his actions, and of course, we are both geniuses. Yet it got me thinking. Why am I that way? "Just leave it, I'll do it," my beautiful wife will say. Yet it can't be left. It'll make my brain itch. "We'd help him if we didn't have to do everything according to the sick clock in his twisted mind," Sam once famously said. The above photo shows a shot of Albert Einstein's desk on the morning of his death. Absolutely cluttered. ...

Twitter is a great social media network. It's sort of taken information gathering and current events reading to a whole new level. On Friday afternoon I read two stories back-to-back. First, the story of embattled Toronto Mayor Rob Ford who was in the process of being stripped of his powers. (Makes him sound like a bad superhero). Ford is the crack-smoking-stupor-inducing-pu##y-eating-Chris-Farley-looking dude who has captured the nation of Canada. He's basically embarrassed everyone who says 'Eh' seven hundred times a day. And I don't know what to make of the guy. I really don't know what makes him tick. How can you become mayor of the 4th largest city of North America and then just literally piss it all the way in a drunken haze of crack smoke? My worst fears were realized as well as I listened to talk radio about the guy. There were people calling in to say that he was a great leader because 'he's just a normal guy.' I'm a ...

There's that pathetic, sad moment when you're sitting on the airplane with the seat open next to you, just praying that somehow, someway the person who is supposed to sit beside you was in a fiery crash on the way to the airport. Okay...so maybe not that bad, but you want the empty seat. The place where you're resting your ass is so cramped. Please, just give me a little room! But you know it won't work that way so you start watching the door and hoping that you get a 'good' person next to you...and by 'good', you're thinking small, or pretty. I spotted my mark as soon as she set foot on the plane. She was about 23 years old, long dark hair. Jeans, boots, red blouse and small, and lastly, very pretty. Like model pretty. And lo and behold, she stopped. At row 5. She put her bag away and sat down beside me. Her eyes were fixed straight ahead. "Hi," I said. And she didn't answer! Like I wasn't even there!! Not a single ...

So, I returned to the Kansas City, Kansas, Missouri, Iowa and Nebraska area again and I must say... ...I can find pretty good food anywhere. I have a nose for it. I was happy to make the drive from Kansas City to Omaha listening to the local radio folks talk about the Cardinals and the Chiefs. It's weird, but you can feel the excitement of the people when the sports teams are doing well. (Take my word for it, Buffalo). I honestly couldn't care less. It was all about the pursuit of the perfect steak. And as I drove I had to keep flipping the stations on the regular radio to find something to listen to. How and why people don't have satellite radios is beyond me. What a pain in the ass regular radio is and all the hosts are really irritating as they try to be funny. Anywhoha... One of the hosts was reading quotes from wise people and he read one from someone that said: "People always want more out of life. There can't be true happiness until one f...

It's just too much to comprehend. The Haiyan typhoon that struck in the Philippine city of Tacloban has a death toll of at least 10,000. Ten thousand human beings hanging from trees, buried in rubble, and basically unaccounted for. It's incomprehensible. What's left is just a pile of debris for the people who survived. They're running through the streets, searching for loved ones, looking for food, trying to find just something that will allow them to live another day. I can't even imagine. The winds hit about 147 MPH. The waters rose high, slamming and destroying whatever was in the path. And at these times you'll hear about people questioning God. Even blaming Him. Pat Robertson or one of those goofy bastards who preach to take money from the desperate will blame it on the gays, or bad living by the people who live here. They will signal it as the end of times. And there are moments when you have to shake your head in wonder. Why? I ha...

A rerun from May of 2010 - photo by Colantino I wish someone could explain the workings of the human mind to me. Or at the very least I wish a team of psychiatrists could interpret my dreams. Okay, here goes: My dream from last night: Me, the wife and the boys are watching the Lakers playoff game. (That's a dream right there - I wouldn't get caught dead watching the NBA). Midway through the game Kobe Bryant hits the ground, clutching his left knee. He's writhing in pain, and I turn to Kathy. "You know what this means?" I ask. "You think they'll call you?" she asks right back. The ringing telephone stifles my answer. Phil Jackson is on the other end of the line. "We need you," is all he says. The boys are excited. Kathy is torn, knowing that she will miss me around the house but that the Lakers need me too. She understood all this when she married me. "I don't want to fly across the country," I say. "I...

Was out traveling around the other night when Reason to Believe by Springsteen popped on the E-Street Radio. That song is an important one in the Fazzolari family. November 5 just passed and we talked about the fact that 12 years ago Jake underwent the operation that saved his life. Jake didn't want to talk about it until we told him that the anniversary was a good reason to buy him a present. We took him to the video store. Yet the Reason to Believe song was the song that got one of us through the ordeal. At the end of every hard-earned day people find some reason to believe. It wasn't me. Kathy was the one who really leaned on that song. So much so that when I'd get into the vehicle we shared for the back and forth to the hospital it had just been played. She wasn't that big of a Bruce fan! How had she found an obscure song off the Nebraska album? An album that almost no one bought! We were together the other night when it came on the radio. ...

Heard this song while driving around listening to E-Street Radio the other day. I remember hearing that Bruce dedicated it to his Mom after his Dad had died. When I saw him sing it live on the Devils & Dust Tour the words - I just wanna' see you smile...hit me hard. I know it's repetitive when written down, but when you hear the lines, over and over and over and say them to yourself as a bit of a chant. It's powerful. And a son singing that to his Mom. Beautiful. I just wanna' see you smile. Dream baby dream Keep on dreaming Come on baby, dream baby dream Keep on dreaming Come on darling, dream baby dream Dream baby dream Keep on dreaming Come on darling, dream baby dream Keep the light burning Come on, keep the fire burning Open up your heart Come on, open up your heart Dream baby Dream Come on baby, keep on dreaming Keep on dreaming I just wanna see you smile I wanna see you smile I just wanna see you smile Come on and dream baby dream Com...

Don't you wish the little voice in your head would shut up sometimes? Wouldn't it be nice if it was a different voice now and again? Like Morgan Freeman, or something? I'm thinking we all have that voice that sorts of follows the action and tells us what to do or what not to do in a certain situation. I'm also thinking a lot of people sort of ignore their voice, or that the brain behind that voice is a bit mentally deficient. My voice developed back in grade school, I suppose. The nuns sent me off on a path of virtual self-destruction and loathing by telling me what was wrong in the eyes of the Lord. And what a list it was! I swear. Of course my beautiful wife and I wanted the children to be exposed to the teachings of the church and we did a good job of that, but the little voice inside my head also told me that perhaps it wasn't real healthy for them to believe that everything they were doing was tragic if mistakes were made. I spent the first fi...

You know, sometimes reading the newspaper or watching the local news is a real mistake. I made one such mistake on Friday morning. I grabbed the paper and went to the local news and immediately read the recap of a man who stands accused of beating his dog and then shooting it to death. While his own kid watched the scene play out. The man claimed that he was saving the kid from the dog that supposedly went mad after he chased the dog from sleeping in the wrong room in the house. The cops weren't buying the story because the dog had been beaten so badly and because the guy was shit-faced. As I read the account I could feel the bile rising. There's no man in the world that loves his dogs more than me. It's always been that way too. My wife and kids mock me for the attention that I pay to Melky and Paris, but I've been close to every single dog we've ever had from Ricky 1 to Ricky 2 to Ricky 3 to Frank to Sam to Max to Shadow. All of 'em. I love my ...

What do you make of this story of the Miami Dolphins lineman Richie Incognito? If all of what is being said is true this guy appears to be a real genius, right? Texting messages of hate and racism to a fellow player? It appears that he drove the guy nuts with repeated threats and intimidation. I read a few of the supposed messages and a lot about the relationship between the two men and all I can say is: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME????? Back about thirty years ago things were a lot different out in the world. There were a lot of instances of bullying that sort of went unreported. Teachers used to think that you were whining if you complained about another guy torturing you. If you reported it, you were considered wimpy. The only advice you ever got in regard to bullying is that you had to 'stand up to the guy doing the bullying.' Well, I can't say that I was over-exposed much to bullying. There was one mean bastard in high school who really picked on me quite ...

Recently I've discovered Dr. Phil. You see, I have a tendency to get real involved in work and there are times when I finish up and realize that I haven't had a lot of contact with the real world. Being obsessed is no way to go through life. Therefore, I try and distract myself a little. So while writing reports now, I flip on the television and listen to Dr. Phil as I type. I only get to listen in maybe once or twice a week, but that's usually enough. There are some seriously messed up people in the world. Thank God that Dr. Phil knows everything. But seriously, last week there was a guy on there who had no idea that his constant belittling and sometimes physical abuse of his ten-year-old son could have a negative impact. "Sometimes I beat him up to toughen him up," the redneck said. Seriously? Beat a kid to toughen him up? This week I caught an episode about a young girl who had an eating disorder. She was once a pretty girl but now she weights a...

An Inspirational Story - Borrowed from the 'Net Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on holiday. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm...

I have my own designated spot at home. It's the seat on the couch directly across from the television and close enough to the heating pad. I've spent too much time in that spot recently. Melky has a spot too. She gets the seat right next to me, and she jumps up and moves close so I give her the hug and pat on the head she needs. Then we watch Judge Judy. Yet it got me to thinking about some of my other favorite places to sit throughout the years. My Grandpa used to sit out in the garage at the house on Spruce Street. We'd all go over there and sit with him. He wasn't watching television there. He was watching the neighborhood. He'd wave at some people. He'd flip off others. He'd wait for us. "Come on in, sit down." He'd talk to us about everything. If Grandpa was in a good mood it was a great place to sit. If he wasn't...it was an uncomfortable squat. So, not to be out done, Dad would always set up the screen door in our...

About a week ago while busting chops on Facebook one of the Grape Apes posted the following sentence: "Shut-up and write me something, bitch." And it kick-started an entire thought process. You see, I haven't been sitting here idle. I have continued to write. That's the only way I know to survive. I have two books 'in the tank' and two more in varying degrees of completion. A part of me was real selfish about the whole thing. As long as I was writing, who cared if anyone else read it. When I was in New York at the awards ceremony something clicked and I came to the realization that I didn't care anymore if I was ever honored again, or interviewed again, or received a hearty thank-you, but that one sentence... It brought me back to why I had wanted to do it in the first place. Because I love reading. More than almost anything else in life. I had started writing because of that love for reading. I recall being about thirteen years old ...

So Boston won the World Series. The third time in the last ten years. The Patriots have been good for quite awhile. The Celtics won a title recently. So did the Bruins. Yippeee! Years ago my hate for the Red Sox was palpable. I couldn't stand Manny, or Pedro, or Ortiz. I hated Millar and Clemens and Damon. I couldn't stand Boggs or Jim Rice or even Yaz. I vowed that I would never step foot in that city. And then I was invited there for a book event that I had to attend. We all know what happened when I landed - I went straight to Fenway and the long plane ride resulted in a bit of confusion as I had to take a quick leak. It was good for a laugh. I went around the city, and the worst sort of thing happened...I kind of enjoyed it. "It's a nice city," I said to my beautiful wife on the call home. "With a baseball problem," she said. I spoke to a friend of mine back here who grew up in Boston. He was giddy with the fact that I enj...

Over 40 years ago I met my friend Mark at a little league playoff baseball game. You see, Mark was the starting pitcher for the Braves. I was the catcher for the Mets. Mark was really good. I was all right. The playoff game was a real talked about event. My buddies Al, Joe and Tom were on the Braves. I was playing with my brother and a few friends of my own. The Braves were heavily favored because they had the tough pitchers. Mark was the real problem. I recall the game as if we played it yesterday. I was the first batter. I hit Mark's first pitch for a single. Now that sounds a lot better than it actually was. Did you think a line shot up the middle? I actually hit it about four feet, but it was in a perfect spot between the catcher and the third baseman. I had swung with all my might and topped it into a spinning circle. I was safe at first when the dust settled. Two batters later I was at 3rd with two outs. I had stolen second and third. Again, it sound...

I'm a cynical guy who certainly dwells on some of the miserable things that go on each day. We all do. Check the news. "So and so was drunk driving." "John Doe stabbed or shot, or beat Jane Doe." "Here's a fire!!!" And the national news? Forget it! Well, this week we were treated to a good story. A man did what we all aspire to do. But he did it . Darnell Barton is an NFTA bus driver here in Buffalo. I'm quite sure he's had some miserable days performing his job on a routine basis. He's probably seen people at their worst. Darnell had a bus filled with passengers. They were near Buffalo State College. Darnell was paying attention. He saw a young lady on the wrong side of the guide-rail, and he thought that it was looking like she might jump. So Darnell did what a lot of other people who light have seen the young lady didn't. He stopped and he headed out the door to help. Darnell asked if he could lend a...

I've always considered Halloween as a stupid day. Even as a kid I thought it was more of a pain in the ass to get dressed up and go out and beg for candy. The entire ghosts and goblins thing was lost on me and I thought it was somehow beneath my child sensibilities. But we did it. Dragging our bags up and down the street. Dressed up like dopey bastards. In high school things changed a bit and we went out to cause trouble. Or as much trouble as a pack of clean-cut kids could do. I remember we tried to light some rubber balls on fire and roll them down the huge hill in front of our house. Three rotations and the balls were out. We threw some eggs and a few rolls of toilet paper, but still pretty lame. I do remember dressing up like a woman as a senior in high school and I also recall being extremely hot, but it's hard to pick up pretty girls when you're dressed up like one. My buddy Jeff was especially clingy that night though. (Just kidding, Jeffy). In colleg...