Thoughts of a Common Man

As you may have guessed there were six Springsteen songs in a row to start off our wedding reception. I chose five of them. I distinctly recall the Real World was song number two and Book of Dreams was also in the top five. ( Thunder Road was as well). But I didn't actually choose the song that we would use for our first dance! (And let me tell you...I'm a helluva' dancer). Kathy picked the song. And that's when I knew that marrying her was a terrific idea. Think about it: She came to me with a Springsteen song that she thought we should use for the first dance! And the more you live within the confines of a marriage the more you realize the beauty of this song. Bruce nailed what it should be like in any long, happy marriage. Happy Anniversary to My Beautiful Wife! If I Should Fall Behind - Bruce Springsteen from Lucky Town We said we'd walk together, baby, come what may That come the twilight should we lose our way If as we're wal

When I glanced at Jake's prom photo from last night I chuckled. "What?" Kathy asked. "He looks nice." "He does," I said, "But I thought of my Dad." Kathy was waiting. "Dad looked at my prom photo and said, 'You look more nauseous than Bob Koop.'" At the time, Bob Koop was a newscaster for Channel 4 who was bravely battling cancer. Kathy didn't remember Bob Koop, but I have never looked at my prom photo and not thought about the poor man. And my Dad wasn't done there. I recall him telling me: "I know you're all in a tizzy now, but 30 years from now you will hardly remember the girl and barely remember anything from the night." I do remember my prom date...but I only have snippets of memories of what happened throughout the evening. And I suppose that's how it goes. Yet... ...from a Dad's perspective: The prom is a lot about worrying. I didn't see the couples as th

I'm about to really embarrass my boys. Do you remember the comedy network show The Powerpuff Girls? Well. My boys used to like watching that show. I'm talking Matt and Jake here...Sam wasn't old enough to get involved. Jake liked Bubbles. In fact, we'd have to tape the show if we weren't home because we couldn't miss any new episodes and this was back before the DVR. (To be fair, Jake was only about two years old - but the story tells better if I say he was about ten). Why am I bringing it up anyway? Well, there's a water tank in the Town of Hamburg. I passed by it the other day as my mind was wandering. That water tank caused a classic meltdown because I pointed at it, back all those years ago, and said: "Hey, boys, that's where Mojo Jo-Jo lives." Mojo was the bad guy in the Powerpuff Girls. He was an evil monkey type who made the girls lives miserable. He was also a little scary to a two-year-old, evidently, because

The Chicago Bears signed defensive end Ray McDonald to a lucrative free agent contract. McDonald, a really good pass rusher, was suddenly available because the San Francisco 49ers cut him because he was being investigated over some relatively nasty sexual abuse allegations. This was following a previous claim of domestic abuse. The 49ers didn't want him on the team. They didn't want anyone to look at their team as a home for wayward individuals, no matter how good they are. When the Bears started thinking about signing McDonald there were members of the fan base who stood up against adding the man to the team and the community. Bears management decided to take the chance. Well. It didn't pan out. McDonald was arrested again over the weekend. Another terrorist like charge against a person he knows. The Bears promptly cut him. But, it left me no choice but to name the Chicago Bears as the D.B. of the Week. Perhaps I should have done it back in December

I'm not a fan of LeBron James. I once was. He lost me with one sentence: I'm taking my talents. As soon as he said that I started really listening to him. Everything out of his mouth is about one thing: LeBron. He's the biggest ego-maniac in the history of sports and while that isn't the worst of all things... ...I can't stand looking at him and his perpetually sour puss. He is also the biggest crybaby I've ever seen in sports. In his mind, he's never committed a foul and everyone is fouling him. Whatever. Here's my morning routine: Let the dogs out, get a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, turn on ESPN, see LeBron on the screen telling me how wonderful he is, yell at the television, switch to the local news and mutter to myself that I can't stand looking at LeBron. The other night he shot 14 for 37. That's awful. If I went 14 for 37 in the driveway with the boys they wouldn't let me play again. After the game?

Everyone out there in the working world knows that there are moments when things get real tiresome. The work load becomes mind-numbing and good rest seems almost impossible. The week's seem to meld together. Burned out. I really felt that way heading into the Memorial Day weekend. It was my time in the barrel. A strange thing also happens when I'm working long hours... ...I'll often pass a golf course on a bright sunny day and think: "Damn. I should be out there." As a young man I'd play at least once every week. It's slowed considerably. Feeling the burn out I kinda knew what I needed. I sent out a group text. Everyone is busy. Just 'cause I wanna' play...but where there's a will there's a way and thankfully I have a number of close friends. Things were set: Possibly golf three times in four days. Saturday started the fun. It was a clear, cool day. The ball came off the club nicely. The conversation with a

Memorial Day Quotes Here is a collection of some of the most famous Memorial Day quotes and sayings: War is too serious a matter to entrust to military men. -Georges Clemenceau Freedom of speech and freedom of action are meaningless without freedom to think. And there is no freedom of thought without doubt. -Bergen Evans Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. Moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue. -Senator Barry Goldwater Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves. -William Pitt Chance has never yet satisfied the hope of a suffering people. Action, self-reliance, the vision of self and the future have been the only means by which the oppressed have seen and realized the light of their own freedom. -Marcus Garvey In war, there is no prize for the runner-up. -General Omar Bradley So long as there are men there will be wars. -Albert Einstein I know not with what weapons Worl

Up until yesterday I had no idea that there was a show called 19 and Counting. I had no idea who the Duggar family was. I was able to catch up fast because it appeared to be the only story in the news. Now that I know...I'm aggravated. But...I'm also a bit understanding of one part of it. Ready? I'm not sure where I would go with a kid that has done something wrong in the confines of the family. Let's be honest here, you aren't going to call the cops on your kid, right? But...given the seriousness of the allegations against a 14-year-old...molesting his sisters in their sleep...I'm certain of one thing for sure... ...I'd get the kid some serious help. From what I've read...and the coverage may be slanted...that doesn't seem to have happened. Working on a farm doesn't rid you of the devil. I honestly don't believe that you can pray away such a 'sin'. And this is more than just a 'sin'. Did the family f

Memorial Day Weekend. A weekend when we remember those who fought to keep this country safe. An extra day at a time of the year when the weather starts to get really nice (although it's about 22 degrees this morning). Barbecues. A few beers. And planting the garden. As a kid this was the weekend. Dad would usher us up and out of bed early and we'd all groan about it. "Why can't we plant it at noon?" "Get your ass out of bed!" (Dad was the best at debating). So off we'd go...all rubbing our eyes...all laughing, eventually ...all getting chased back to the house every so often with my father yelling that he was going to kill every last one of us. Throwing rocks at each other. Making fun of each other. Wondering why Corinne and Carrie didn't have to help. Just a Dad and his four sons...on the ground...planting row after row after row of vegetables. "Those are too close!" Dad would tell us a lot of stories

You know who gets honored the most at The Gow School Annual Honors Presentation? The Fazzolari's! I just wanted to take it all in. I entered the empty auditorium just a few minutes the ceremony was to begin. The Headmaster greeted me before I even caught a glimpse. "Thank you for coming, Cliff," he said. I thought about being in the room for a book signing with a group of students cheering as Jeff and I went back and forth in front of them back in about 2007. Jeff was an absolute rock star. I wandered around the grounds a little. I stopped by the Memorial garden for Matt Roe who was a friend of Jeff's and tragically lost his life in 2008. Matt's death had devastated Jeff. I said a quick prayer for Matt and his family. The kitchen was busy. Jeff was watching the action. His memorial plaque made me shake my head. I said another prayer and was greeted by a pretty girl who had worked with Jeff back then. "So nice of you to come out,"

Wow. Dominique Sharpton appears to be damaging her father's good name. (Sarcasm). Have you heard this story? She is suing the New York City Government for "internal and external injuries to the whole body, lower and upper limbs, the full extent of which are unknown, permanent pain and mental anguish." It appears that she slipped on the uneven sidewalk in Soho. Poor gal. Sounds like she'll never be right, and at such a young age. She's only 29 years old. It's actually a wonder that she's only suing for $5 million dollars. (Sarcasm). After all, her civil rights Dad has championed so many brilliant things. (Sarcasm). (Do I have to keep adding the sarcasm note or have you captured the tone?) She's won the D.B. of the Week!!! And do you know why? Cause she posted a photo of herself on the top of a mountain in Bali! Yep. I didn't post it. She did. Did you ever think she'd be able to climb a mountain after readi

David Letterman kind of became a star when I was a college student. He was brand new to the talk show circuit and by brand new I mean that he was completely different from all the talk show hosts we'd seen prior to that. I loved the show. In fact, as time went by I had a whole bunch of conversations with my Dad about how funny Letterman was through the years. My favorite Letterman joke? He started his monologue one night by saying that he went to the doctors because he had huge scratches along his back and on his stomach and in his long, drawn-out rapport with Paul (who I also thought was pretty funny) he explained that he had no idea where the scratches came from. "The doctor came out and said, 'Dave, I have some bad news. Those scratches are coming from the inside." Such a simple joke, but really funny. I have told it a hundred times through the years and my beautiful wife just rolls her eyes. "Dumb," she says. And my all-time favorite

I was traveling around the Kansas City area and being in a new city is weird because you're just absolutely relying on the GPS. Of course, as is prone to happen, the GPS isn't always aware of detours and the such. I was detoured around a neighborhood and ended up listening to the bitch on the GPS scream at me to make a U-turn as I tried to find my way myself. Past a Home Depot, a Super Cuts and a Pet Smart. It looked exactly like the shopping center right down the street from me in Western New York. Turned right at the McDonald's, streaked by the Olive Garden and the Outback. America looks the exact same in Kansas City as it does in Buffalo and I'm sure as it does in every other town or city around the country. When I'm in a new town I do like to look for the local flavor and while I had a great brisket platter...there wasn't much to distinguish things. Even the construction sites look the same...minority crews have taken over specific trades and w

That photo came across my Twitter feed yesterday as that degenerate was sentenced up in Boston. The person who posted it had the obligatory 'Thoughts and Prayers' in the message box. And I looked at that photo for a long time...alongside the photo in the news story of the man who with his equally evil brother...murdered them. And I kept thinking... ... When? 1). When will it end? 2). When will we figure it out? 3). When will men stop killing men? And I know the answers. Sadly I know them. 1). Never. 2). We won't. 3). Never. And that is unfathomable. Look at the faces of the dead there. Think of the anguish of the family members and the friends who loved those people. And that's not to mention those poor people who lost limbs or were forever changed. When? The photo shook me up for a long time and I just kept staring at it. I knew that it was just one photo of one day . In the past three weeks I've heard stories of men lo

I distinctly recall the day of my college graduation. My mother and a couple of my siblings made the drive to Erie, Pa. to attend the ceremony. Dad didn't make the trip because I had told him not to...it was just going to be a long drawn-out ceremony. He could stay home. He'd done enough! Mom, of course...wasn't going to miss it. One problem. She had to meet me by the side of the road. We had been tossed from our living quarters by a landlord who was picky enough to hate broken windows and a kitchen table that had lost its legs at a huge party. (That's another story - but a good one). Suffice to say that along with about 5 other idiots I had finished off my college career by sleeping in the woods. Anywhoha... We had one last party the night before graduation. In fact, I brushed my teeth on graduation morning with Jack Daniels. (Not kidding...woodsman don't have tooth paste...but I had to get the horrible taste out of my mouth so J.D. it was

The train was supposedly going 100 mph when it crashed. There's a strange trust placed in the people who are tasked to get us from one place to the next. I find it distracting to even think about the pilot. I don't want to see what he looks like. I don't want to know if he's in a bad mood. I'd rather that he or she remain anonymous. Being a safety consultant I also don't want to know if there have been recent safety problems associated with my plane, train or bus. So I usually enter quietly. Sit in my jammed in seat... and before you say it, seats on planes are tough for everyone... and think about NOT crashing. I don't think of it long. Yet I also wonder about the safety spiel they offer. Can't it be safe to assume that we all understand the concept of the safety belt? If you have to listen intently to the attendant speak about how to click it.... you might be the dumbest person on the planet. Can't we stop with that little saf

There's a phrase that I use all the time when I'm talking to folks about my day. I have a tendency to say that 'I've enjoyed every day of the full catastrophe of life.' I stole that line from Mellencamp. Well when we saw him last Saturday night the lights went down. He strode to the microphone and started singing the song in an old crooner style. The band was playing in the dark behind him and when he sang the first line I turned to Kathy and said, "Unreal!" She didn't know the song. It's not exactly Pink Houses . But I absolutely loved the rendition and it's been in my head for almost a week now. The best thing about it was that he started singing...then completely forgot a verse...I think I was the only guy who might have noticed. He stopped and laughed and started over. He mumbled: "Catastrophe." So. In the end. If I should go sudden... ...know one thing: I've enjoyed every day of the full catastroph

Surprised? I hate this entire story. I think it has been handled poorly by everyone. From Goodell to Robert Kraft to the guy who wrote the report to the fans who are rooting for blood and for the fans who are fighting for the honor of folks who may not deserve honor... ...to the quarterback...Tom Brady. Brady has earned D.B. of the Week Honors! And I'm not truly convinced that he was cheating. Here's what I think...for what it's worth. Brady liked the footballs soft. As soft as possible. I believe that somewhere along the way his preferences were made known to the guys who worked with the football. I'm not quite sure that he knew exactly how much air was in the ball or not in the ball. I don't believe that he liked it set, for instance, two degrees above or below. Like Rodgers liked them highly inflated...Brady liked them softly inflated. Perhaps he didn't believe that the NFL would turn it into Watergate, but he should've known bet

Had a little Facebook exchange this past weekend that came out of nowhere and it sort of reinforced the fact that we are in a weird place these days. Anyone can say anything they want...without fear...behind a keyboard. And it brought to mind the celebrities who were attacked by trolling fans... ...including Curt Shilling and Erin Andrews and Ashley Judd... some of those folks are suing the ones who went nuts on them... ...but social media, unfortunately will never be a polite place. Which is also good with me. I put a whole lot of stuff out there. I'll disagree with someone just to see if they can see the other side of the argument. I'll have live battles with my good buddy, Pops on Facebook ...while I'm texting him about something personal. The two trains never actually meet. We can fight about the lack of integrity in football while we inquire about the wife and kids on the 'other line.' It's when it gets personal that it becomes weird

Okay. What would make you paint that on your car? What sort of emotion is it supposed to invoke in me? Am I wicked? What the hell defines wicked in this day and age? I'm thinking that something pissed this dude off. Seriously pissed him off. And as is prone to happen, I spent a bit of my driving time thinking about him. First off, I don't begrudge his freedom to besmirch his own vehicle with a Psalm that means something to him. Is it a message to one person? To a group of people. To all of us? Since I read it, I felt responsible to question my own wicked ways. The wicked shall be turned into hell. I've always wondered about that. Will they grade hard...or since everyone seems to be struggling a bit...will there be a little bit of a curve. I'm hoping that there's a tiny curve involved for the college days at least. As I thought about the woman or man who scripted those words (and for some reason I'm thinking a skinny man with a

We sorta' lucked into the tickets. We were also a little leery of going because Mellencamp played the Niagara Falls Casino last year, and while the show was good...it was a little short and J.C.M. seemed old and tired. Man...what a difference! We listened to June Carter's daughter, Carlene...one of the Carter girls as an opening act and heard a couple of stories about the legend Johnny Cash himself. A great start. A beautiful voice. Mellencamp had sounded a little scratchy in Niagara Falls but he started the Shea's show in much fuller voice. Lawless Times Troubled Man and then... ...the first note of my all-time favorite. Minutes to Memories. I couldn't help it...I sang every word with him. Suck it up and tough it out and be the best you can...the old man told me this...now I'm telling it to you...Life strips away the dreams that we had planned...my family and friends are the best thing I've known and through the eye of the needle I'

So...I spent a lot of days driving Matt pretty hard. Every time he passed me in the halls as he grew I mentioned some work that I had for him. He went out of his way to prove me wrong in a lot of lengthy debates. I did it to push you, kid...because I knew you were ultra-capable. So. Proud of your accomplishment and the fact that you paid for your entire education on your own ! Rod Stewart popped into my ear yesterday as I did your yard work for you. I thought of you as this song played and I felt a sense of true pride. Go get 'em. My older brother, John, sent me a card when I graduated from college. I still have it and his words meant the world to me. He said: "You got life by the balls. Don't screw it up!" (John isn't a wordsmith. But I tried hard to listen). And I couldn't think of a better gift for Mother's Day then to make your mother cry because she's proud of you too (and all three of you boys). It's a beautiful son

I watched Mike Tyson knock out Michael Spinks in under a minute. I saw Wilt Chamberlain muscle Bill Russell under the boards. Watched John Riggins carry five guys on his back. But Never in my life have I met a stronger person. Than my Mom. Nothing stops her from battling back every single time life paints her into a corner and her strength has meant the world to so many people. She keeps a hundred folks going. With her smile...her laugh and the fact that she will work through it. Somehow. I know my siblings and I feel Mom's pain every single time we see the tears in her eyes... ...but they don't stay there long. Because she's strong. Stronger than Wilt and Riggins and Tyson. Stronger than anyone you know. Love you, Mom. Thank you. For a million things. Maybe two million.

So, here in Buffalo Route 33 has been closed down each night because they're shooting a movie - Yeah - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I most likely won't see the finished movie, but there was a time... ...I had to watch all of those movies when the boys were young. They were painful to watch, actually, but the boys certainly loved all of them. The television show was horrendous. Yet it's a funny thing about show business, right? On day one, folks lined the street to get a glimpse at the shooting area. By day two the complaints started to come in. "The lights", "the explosions", "the mean crew." It's all for about five minutes of action in the course of the movie. 5 minutes! Must be nice to spend between $7 and $9 million dollars to film five minutes of stuff and people are starving. Also. The 'Tom Brady is a cheater' story is dominating the news again and I really don't want to debate it with anyone...espe

Sometimes it seems that we spend a lot of our days just hoping that the other shoe doesn't drop. There are so many sad stories out there every day... ...folks getting sick. ...dogs dying. ...young men being killed in car accidents. If we dwell on that news it can really drag us down. There's a lot to be said for staying in the moment and enjoying each and every day... ...but it's hard to do, isn't it? The week began with Mom's dog taking his last breath. Not the end of the world, by any means, but it does rock the old world for a little while. I traded messages with a young woman facing a health issue and I just couldn't help but say how sorry I was that she was going through any of it. Stay strong. We're praying. And then the news of a young man being injured in a car accident. A 25-year old man who was on the verge of being married. A soldier. A strange, almost freak accident. What can you say? It's just awful news.

As I've said... ...I felt a bit like an idiot for buying into the Mayrunner-Manny fight. I feel even worse now because it appears that we were all duped. Manny needs shoulder surgery. He knew that he was hurt well in advance of the fight. He also knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to knock out Mayrunner and not just because he couldn't catch him. He was hurt. The fight should have been postponed. Yet it wasn't. Because of the money. We all know that boxing is a dirty sport. There have been movies made about fighters who have taken a dive to make money for whoever was betting against them. Don King was such a hated character that even the boxers he made rich...felt like they needed a bath after working with him. It was a completely false event. Boxing folks earned the D.B's of the Week Award. Manny was hurt. He didn't back out of the fight because his paycheck was heavy. He says that he reported the injury. The N

There's a Bruce song that is hardly ever heard by anyone. It's called Brothers Under the Bridge and it was never a hit, for sure. It was hardly even released! It's on the Tracks record. It's slow, reflective and beautifully written. It's about a Viet Nam vet who returns and finds nothing is waiting for him at home. He tells his story of being lost to his daughter. A daughter that he hardly knows. A daughter who can't understand that he drifts across the west, sleeping in camps built by the homeless brothers. The imagery is astounding. Every single word means something. We were in the car when it came across the radio in the middle of a concert replay. Bruce announced that the band had never played it before live. I had certainly never heard it performed live. But I thought my way through the song, remembering that the last line in the song is the one that struck me so hard the very first time I heard it. The man is talking to his daughter. He

A-Rod tied Willie Mays on the all-time home run list with 660. Big deal, right? I agree. To me the all-time HR leader is still Henry Aaron and Roger Maris still holds the single season record with 61. The record books say otherwise, but I know the difference. A lot of the guys were cheating. A lot of them. Including a number of Red Sux players...Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz (Their two biggest stars) for certain. So...when A-Rod came to bat on Friday night he was promptly booed... ...by a stadium filled with hypocritical folks, I suppose. He hit a laser over the wall to give the Yankees the lead and the win. It was really fun to watch the crowd go from booing to holding their heads in their hands. The guy who caught the ball was holding it in his hand and giving the two thumbs down. Then when he was approached by security he said that he wasn't giving the ball to A-Rod to keep. What a dope. The Yankees and Red Sux all offered him bounty for the ball.

Sad, sad day. After an incredible life Mom's and Dad's dog Jeter headed out to the next thing. It's tough. I've always said that dogs and mothers should never pass away and it's incredible but the dogs who ended up being members of the Fazzolari family lived exceptional lives. Jeter was a good dog. Loyal. Somewhat obedient. We're gonna' miss him!

We only have ourselves to blame. Folks bought into the hype and Floyd the Runner got paid. The thing about it is he is boxing, I suppose. He ran from corner to corner. He threw a jab that made it impossible to get inside. He 'won' the fight because evidently the little love taps he sends out are considered 'blows', but the only people anyone has ever saw him hit hard are the women he blindsided. Yeah. Little annoyed. The problem being is that its been a long time since there was a fight to like. When I was a kid some of the great bonding moments came as my siblings, father and I watched a good fight. Like Ali-Frazier (we always went for Frazier). Like Hagler-Hearns or Norton-Ali or Foreman and anyone. Hell, even through the Tyson years. So...my brother John and I decided we'd get the fight..at my house. We were united in the idea that we wanted Floyd to taste the ring apron. And Dance. Hug. Run. The fight never actually happen

I had a difficult week. It started with a few rides on a small airplane. I am not fearful of flying, but I hate the entire experience. The airports, the jammed seats, the delays, and most importantly giving up control . We were circling in New York, unable to land because there was too much traffic and we kept buzzing around the big island. I was a little nauseous because it was like we were riding on a lawn mower, but I glanced out the window. The guy beside me was leaning across my seat, trying to get a photo. And I thought about the plane going down... who doesn't think about that? ...and I thought about how the news stories would just count the heads of those who perished. And then I glanced out the window at New York. "It's beautiful," the guy whispered. And life is like that... ...when we feel most uncomfortable. When we are beyond aggravated. Just when the scent of some stranger's breath is about to turn me into a screaming idiot, there is bea

Friday's are great. They're even better when the sun is shining. Just something about knowing that the next 48 hours are kinda' yours. In fact, I hate phone calls on Friday afternoons and treat the caller with absolute disdain. As luck might have it I was in my car in the early afternoon and Tiny Dancer by Elton John came on the radio. Who doesn't love that song? We all think we sing it perfectly as well. I have no idea what the lyrics mean, but they seem important. I sang along...thinking of way, way back when the song was released and Elton was pretending to be married. I thought of girls that I knew back then. How urgent the lyrics were. Then I thought of the song being ruined by someone on television changing the lyrics to Hold Me Closer, young Tony Danza. I sang the rest of the song that way. In the mood for singing I flipped around and settled on the E Street channel. Bruce always has a song to sing. I sang along with Pay Me My Money

We've all seen the photos. Kids throwing rocks at the police. Men coming out of the CVS with cookies and toilet paper. Even the poor mother who went viral slapping the sh*t out of her kid for being involved. There's no doubt that the D.B.'s of the Week are those involved in the riots. And that's not to say that there isn't a beef there...whether it is real or just perceived. But what makes a man do some of the things that they might not normally do? I was listening to a radio broadcaster the other day who was saying that he'd love to be a part of the mob who is going into some of the stores and grabbing stuff. The announcer said that it would be 'fun'. Fun? Of course, the guy was quick to add that his conscience would not allow him the peace of mind to be able to keep the stuff that he looted. Immediately there was a phone call and the caller explained that all the 'nice stuff' that he had in his apartment came from whatever h