Thoughts of a Common Man

I made a conscious decision this year to do whatever I could possibly do to swing a golf club as often as I could in 2018. It hasn’t been easy and I still haven’t played as much as I’d like, or used to. Spinal decompression, cortisone shots, stretching before and after, ice and rest after. Not to mention my beautiful wife saying: “Maybe you shouldn’t.” But I have really sucked it up because I’m mentally better on the weeks when I play. We’ve had a pretty consistent group too. All of us who’ve played okay. We aren’t great, but we are close score wise. We all have bad habits, and we all occasionally hit great shots. One of my favorite memories of this year happened last week when all four of us made par on a pretty long par 5. We exchanged high-fives on the green when Pops sank the long putt to make it 4 for 4. This week 2 golfers from another foursome were watching me aim for the green from about 140 out. It was a perfect golf shot, and I was just 8’ from the pin when th

Mellencamp has been opening his shows with ‘Lawless Times.’ It’s a great song. I’ve printed the lyrics here before. Over the past few days, I, like millions of Americans have watched politicians shout, scream, cry and be morally outraged. There ain’t a moral to be split among all of them. On Thursday night, my mind was a mess thinking about Kavanaugh V Ford as presented at the political theater. Graham went off. Kavanaugh went off. Ford cried. Kavanaugh cried. A guy at a job interview said: “I liked beer. I still like beer. Do you like beer?” And so, Friday morning it felt a little like a beer hangover (haven’t had one of those in at least 8 years!) But the show wasn’t over! They wanted to take a vote. Before they even walked into the room, Jeff Flake - a guy who has stood on the floor of the senate and lambasted Trump for being morally bankrupt and who from time-to-time has written some very thoughtful things... ...announced that he was on Team Kavanaugh.

Checked a few twitter posts from women who’d been abused: “He chased me from one room to another during a house party. I was 19 years old and we’d just arrived. I stopped to say hello to a couple of old friends and he came running in, yelling that I was cheating. He grabbed me by the hair, and dragged me back to the car. No one did a thing. Then he cried and said ‘look what you made me do.’” No woman should ever have to go through something like that. Ever. For any reason. “I was 7 years old. He was the gym teacher. It was 1964, and I remember the smells and sounds like it happened 15 minutes ago. He kept saying, ‘You’re such a good girl.’” Imagine having to live your life through such a memory. I’m sheltered. I lived a life where I was sure that My Dad loved my Mom. ‘Make sure you say ‘Thank You’ to your mother’, was a sentence that I borrowed from him to remind my boys of respect. And no, they didn’t always get along, but ‘any man who’d hit a woman is a piece of shi

I knew it was going to make for great theater. Ford Versus Kavanaugh! You could feel the excitement in the media. Problem being, no one was going to really listen one way or the other. “We’ll give him a fair trial and then we’ll convict him,” Robert Redford once said as a lawyer in one of the films from the 80’s. Grassley opened up the proceedings by calling for civility... ...then he attacked the Democrats. The woman prosecutor they brought in was fixated on who paid the $200 for the lie detector test, implying that Ford was purchased. They needed a woman prosecutor because they were afraid that the old white dudes would be embarrassing as they tried to come up with questions. At the first break, they asked a particularly old, crusty white dude, Orrin Hatch what he thought of Dr. Ford. He said that she was attractive. What a dopey thing to say. And it was as nasty as can be. Democrats were nasty. Republicans were brutal. Kavanaugh was angry, angry, angry. Dr.

If you had lapsed into a coma in the 80’s and woke up on Tuesday to see that Trump is president and Cosby was on his way to jail for sexual assault... ...you might want to go back to sleep. I was writing reports when the news broke about Cosby’s prison sentence. It was odd. I didn’t know why I was feeling badly for him, but there were a couple of seconds there. He’s 81 years old. He’s legally blind. Yet, after he was cuffed and headed down the hall... ...they interviewed a couple of his victims. One called him a sexual predator and recounted how terrified she was for much of the rest of her days. That’s no way to live. And it wasn’t lost on me that the Kavanaugh talk was going on in between breaks in the Cosby coverage. These are crazy days indeed. Think about the past year: Cosby, Trump, Weinstein, Spacey, Louis CK, Bill O’Reilly, Kavanaugh... ...and on and on and on. We have heard people describe horrible acts and I think I’ve heard something about all

There are days in your life that mean more than others. I was unaware that I was approaching the anniversary of such a day, but someone posted a ticket stub from the concert that went down at the Memorial Auditorium that night. I was 19 years old...just a few weeks short of my 20th birthday. I was a huge Springsteen fan by then, but I’d never seen them perform live. My brother John and buddy Tom picked me up in Erie, and on the way through North Collins we picked up my high school constant love interest. Tom was a Who fan. On the way to the show he mentioned that he liked Springsteen, but he couldn’t imagine seeing anyone better than Roger & Pete. We played Born in the USA all the way there. Kellie talked about how good Bruce looked still he started lifting weights. She asked why I didn’t lift weights. We expected a great show. What we got was mind-numbingly fantastic. Tom bought two shirts at the brief intermission. I asked him which concert was better, Bruce or

There is an old Albert Brooks movie where he faces the music on judgement day. It’s a pretty funny one - I think it was called ‘Defending Your Life’. In any regard, Brooks is shown clips of him living... ...and he has to explain why he did what he did. Most of us wouldn’t want to be in such a position... ...and when you’re being questioned by someone trained to twist words? Let’s just all hope that’s not how we learn our heaven-hell fate. I’ve been on the witness stand for court cases for my job. I’ve also made a lot of speeches, so I don’t get nervous... ...but I was thinking about Kavanaugh and the senate questions. And now we have the thorough examination of his high school and college days. We drank beer, and played music, and looked for dates. In fact, acting a bit like an idiot went on for awhile. Our lives weren’t captured on cell phones and blog posts like they are now... ...but if God has the video tape??? Most people can say that the good outweighe

It’s been more than a week now, hasn’t it? Kavanaugh versus Ford. Will there be a hearing? Will it matter? Is it all a delay tactic? I’ve listened to a lot of it, unfortunately, but Thank God I re-discovered the Dan Patrick Show on Sirius (he does sports talk better than everyone). Here’s the rub. The information was out there. The woman wanted to remain anonymous, but both sides actually HAD to know. One side held it until the exact moment it was needed, and the other side was hoping it stayed hidden. It didn’t. So, instead of giving a voice to it, we’ve had a pissing contest. That’s a given. Obstruction appears to be the operational word of this century. It’s disgusting. Yet, I was doing pretty well on tuning it out until Saturday morning when an anonymous GOP talking head was the counterpoint to the Democratic mouthpiece who was screaming bloody murder. “Regardless of how it goes, he should be confirmed.” “No matter what they find out at the hearing?” The hos

Saw an old photo (1955) of Frank Sinatra and Sophia Loren. Two beautiful, talented people in the prime of their lives. Frank has been gone for a long time. And it saddened me. In my real life I ran into an old buddy. He’s about 25 years older than me, and when I saw him my mind played that old trick. I was back in 1991. I was just 26 then and he was just starting his 50’s. As I shook his hand last week, I thought: “Damn, he’s an old man.” And there’s nowhere better to see the toll that time takes when you try and view life through the eyes of your children. I can feel their frustration as they try and piece their lives together. The pages are blank. They know that they should have time to do something, have a home, a family, dreams. Time has a way of getting behind you quickly. I went from 26 to nearly 54 in what amounts to a wink of an eye. I’ll go from 54 to “damn, he’s old, quickly.” And I suppose it’s in how you look at it. I have a great friend who just turne

The Red Sux clinched the AL East on Thursday night. They did it at the stadium besides. I inadvertently clicked on a post that showed them shooting champagne. I don’t care. They won the East because they beat the bad teams, they had a very friendly schedule, they stayed healthier, and they had a $75 million payroll advantage. So what? They won the division last year. Didn’t win a playoff game. It’s time to look at my playoff picks from April. In the AL, I was right about New York, Boston, Cleveland and Houston. I had Seattle as the 2nd Wild Card...Oakland will be there. I had the Yankees winning the pennant... ...still do. Yankees over A’s Indians over Astros Yankees over Suck Sux Yankees over Indians. In the NL, I did worse. I had Washington winning the East - it will be Atlanta. I had Cubs winning the central - they will. Cards as wild card. I had Dodgers and Rockies in out of the west. I thought it would be Yankees-Nationals in Series. It’ll b

On Thursday morning, it was a little brisk as I escorted the dogs to the car for their ride to pick up the newspaper. Yeah, I’m still buying the Buffalo News even though the daily addition is now $1.50. (Warren Buffet needs additional monies). I may not be buying the paper much longer as it will soon be extinct... ...but it’s about the weather, not the paper! I checked the temperature and it was an even 60. Still good, but my heart sunk a bit... ...how far off are the 20-degree days? And there’s still time left in the good days ledger. Fall is a good season here in western New York, but there is that sinking sense of dread. My Dad was fond of telling people that Buffalo has the best weather in the country, but people laughed at him. He would explain. No hurricanes or tornadoes. No mud slides or fires. A few nasty snowstorms and that’s it. As I grew older, I started to agree... ...but the extreme cold takes it out of me. So, I can dread it coming. I have that rig

This week there was a viral video of a man, on a train, who was shaving. He was flicking the shaving cream to the floor of the train... ...and truth be told, it was a tad irritating to me. I’ve traveled enough to see people doing fairly disgusting things like cutting their toenails, eating stinky food on the plane, coughing, sneezing, blowing their nose...all without covering up. If I’d been seated next to that dude I probably would’ve been agitated. But I know what I wouldn’t have done... ...I wouldn’t have videoed him and then posted it so people could take pot shots at him, which is exactly what happened. The guy got lambasted. Everyone made fun of him, called him names, eventually made him feel less than human. He’s a homeless man who was on his way to visit his brother. He shaved because he didn’t have time at the shelter and he didn’t want to show up looking homeless. I don’t think that the people who poked fun at him felt bad once they heard the story... ...cause

So, Kavanaugh’s confirmation has run into a delay. And now we will be party to a tremendous pissing match that will further split the nation. It’s been two years of bickering and fighting and going off to separate corners to stew and piss and moan. The hearings were supposed to be a question and answer session to see if Kavanaugh was worthy of a lifetime appointment to the highest court in the land. It started with an argument about whether all his information was available for review. There were also hard feelings about Obama’s nomination Garland, never even getting an evaluation. Battle lines were drawn. Back in July, a woman came forward to make a complaint against Kavanaugh. The woman claims to have been assaulted a long, long time ago. The information was passed along to Senator Feinstein, who was asked to keep it quiet because the woman did not want her identity known. Now it’s an absolute shit show. The way I see it: 1). It was always going to be a fight. Tha

The Bills took another beating on Sunday. Yet, the loss was overshadowed by the fact that one of their players quit at halftime. Vontae Davis up and quit!! Now, it’s more complicated than that because it isn’t like you or me quitting a job... ...he was paid $4 million dollars for this year! He gets to keep it. He put out a statement after the game saying that he could no longer play at the high-level he expected to play at, he didn’t want to risk his health, family... ...blah, blah, blah. He couldn’t be bothered to finish the game??? He left! Got in his car and left!! That’s almost funny. Last week he didn’t dress at all... ...so he made $4 million for 30 minutes of game time! They were down 28-6 at the half. Terry Pegula has a lot of money. He’s gotta’ stop telling people about it. Davis quit, Boldin quit before the season started last year, Icognito quit, two coaches - Mularkey and Marrone quit. The wide receiver, Percy Harvin played 2 games and quit c

My beautiful wife and I had a long drive to Syracuse and back. The drive back didn’t amount to much as she slept for 2+ hours, but on the way there, Bob Seger’s ‘Against the Wind’ (a tremendous song)... ...got us talking about our childhoods. Seger played the Aud on back-to-back nights in 1980. “Did you go?” Kathy asked. “No!” I answered a little too fast and a little too loudly. “I did. I take it that you were pissed.” “I was. I wanted to go. All the good-looking girls went. I wasn’t allowed. Mom said ‘No.’ Somehow we went from my first concert (Stones at Rich Stadium) to the first time that we figured out what men-women relationships were all about. (She was 14. I still haven’t figured it out). Kathy said that she was about 14 when a girlfriend started talking about sex. “I was blown away,” she said. “Was pretty sure it was the most gross thing I’d ever heard.” I recalled talking about the subject at the Lions campsite. My tutor was an old friend. I mentione

Went to a company celebration last night. It was a gala at a fancy hotel in Syracuse, and had a good dinner. Thing is, I got dressed up, and that happens about once a year. A shirt with buttons, dress pants, a suit coat and yes... ...a necktie. And it was great fun for some of my work friends who see me in work boots, jeans and a tee-shirt with a few stains on them. I’d like to say that it felt good to dress up nice, but my beautiful wife’s steak wasn’t cooked well done so I had to eat it. She doesn’t eat asparagus either. So, I ate that. Then there was an ice cream station where I was able to make my own sundae. Dress clothes get tighter than my usual loose fabrics. Suit coat went first... ...it’s a newish suit coat that I found at a bar. It fits perfectly. I would’ve loosened the tie, but that’s impossible... ...cause it was a clip-on. By 10:30, I was back in my shorts and a Yankees shirt. Thank God that’s over. I’ll hang everything up in the back of m

Springsteen gets all the pub when it comes to my favorite music, but I have other loves too. The Stones, of course. There’s a commercial playing now featuring “She’s A Rainbow.” I sing it every time. A couple of weeks back Mick Jagger sent a tweet of him playing the harp for a good couple of minutes. (No one, Bruce included, plays the harmonica better than Mick). “Playing some of the new tunes,” Mick wrote. And it was 1977, or 1981 or 1983 all over again. Those were the days when I discovered one Stones record after another. Most of my kick-around clothes had the big red tongue on them. If the Stones put out a new record... ...I’ll lose my mind! But this week we got confirmation of another of my music loves. Mellencamp is releasing a new record, ‘Other People’s Stuff’. It will be available in November and he will tour to promote it. I’ve seen JCM 4 times, and every single time I thought: “He’s the coolest dude ever.” I know exactly where I was when I first l

There are days when I don’t listen to anything political. Yesterday I sat down at lunch with a good friend (who shares my shame in all things big and orange) and said: “Anything embarrassing today?” “Maybe a new low,” he said. “He attacked the death tolls from the Puerto Rico hurricane.” “How?” “Says the Dems did it to make him look bad.” I thought he was making it up. He showed me the tweet. “How pitiful.” We ordered our food, both shaking our heads at the absurdity of it. “Got a hundred grand to burn?” My buddy asked. He showed me a GOP dinner proposal. “Dinner with Trump: $35,000 (that’s sitting in same room only) Photo with Trump: $70,000 (it can be a couple - man and woman only, I assume) Round table with Trump: $100,000 (so for 100 g’s you can pass him the ketchup to put on his burnt steak).” “Can you imagine?” My buddy asked. “If he walked in here right now, I’d walk out,” I said. “It’s not him that concerns me about that party, it’s the people wh

My parents went to Hawaii for a couple of weeks. I was 18 years old at the time, so that meant there were three kids under 15 at the big house on the hill. Mom and Dad asked our childhood babysitter, Florence, to keep an eye on things. It was widely accepted that Corinne, John and me didn’t really have to worry about Florence being in charge. “Just don’t do anything stupid,” Dad mentioned as they left. Well, on Saturday night I went to the bars on the beach... ...with my cousin Paul. Anyone who knows my cousin Paulie is probably already nodding, thinking: “That’s really stupid.” I couldn’t get Paul out of the bar. “Florence is going to go ape shit if I don’t get home,” I said. “You’re with me! I’m an adult,” Paulie said. I got dropped off around 3 a.m. Florence was waiting. She was livid. Hit with a broom. Paul tried to explain. She hit him too. Florence packed a wallop! I thought about that this week in the leadup to hurricane Florence and the damage that

Botham Jean was a 26-year-old, black man. He was sitting in his apartment on the 4th floor of his apartment complex. Amber Guyger (according to her recounting of the events) thought she was heading to her apartment. She claims that she saw the door ajar and a figure inside. She claims she tried to command the man out of the apartment, but he did not respond. So she shot him. Dead. Guyger is a cop. She was off-duty. When she turned in the light and called 9-1-1 she realized that she wasn’t in her own apartment. It seemingly struck her that she’d killed her upstairs neighbor. (Now witnesses are telling a different story, saying that they heard her knocking on the door and yelling to be let in before the fatal shots). In any regard, Jean is dead. For no good reason. When I read the story all I kept thinking was: There’s too many damn guns! I don’t know the stats, but seems to me that there are way too many of these stories. I was driving the other day and the guy

I usually wake before my alarm. Most of the time I don’t even set one, but on Monday morning the alarm was on and it woke me up. First thing I heard was a pounding, soaking rain. Rainy Days and Mondays. Up and out, and the rain let up, but it was dark and as dreary as can be. It gets worse. Construction guys aren’t all that chipper when the Bills lose, and when they buried like that... ...well, it was pretty quiet. And that’s how the day was going, but I was coming down Elmwood Avenue near Buffalo State University, and I noticed some motion in the car next to me at the red light. It was a pretty, young girl. She was looking straight ahead, bopping up and down, and definitely singing. All windows were up, but I could definitely say that she was belting out a tune because she even pumped a fist. I couldn’t not look. She must’ve sensed it because she turned and caught me looking. She kept on singing away. I laughed and looked back to the light. Good for her...

Was chatting about the Bills first game with a couple of good friends. “I don’t think I’ve ever been less enthused about a team,” I said. There were three quarterbacks fighting for the starting job. The star running back had another violent off-season. They didn’t start the kid. Yet, when one o’clock rolled around my boys were fired up. Jake joined me in the living room, and since the Yankees were on the west coast, he knew he could take the television. Then, mere seconds before kickoff, Sam came rolling in. He’d been let out of work early. “Let’s go!!!” He screamed. “Just gotta’ play good D!” Ten minutes later they were down 7-0. Then 10-0, then 17-0, then 20-0, 23-0, 26-0 Halftime! The Bills hadn’t managed even a single first down. “I’m going to write a paper,” Jake said. “One more drive for me,” Sam said. 33-0 40-0 “Had enough!” Sam called out. But the kid was in the game. Then the big moment... ...the field goal was straight down the middle. 40-3

On Friday night the boys went over to a friend’s house. They couldn’t stop talking about Mac Miller, the rapper who OD’d. On Saturday morning I drive Sam to work. “How was the wake?” I asked. “We didn’t listen to anything else,” he said. “It’s too sad. He had everything in the world and he was still sad. Didn’t have enough.” That was a pretty profound thing for Sam to say. A little while later, I put a note on Facebook about the new story I’m working on - a mystery/thriller that’s writing itself. An author friend of mine posted that “We should co-author a children’s book. That’s where the sales are!” I have zero interest in that, or sales. I enjoy the journey of doing it my own way. I have more than enough in my life. And I think about those things a lot. When you’re a kid you think about owning a home, having a dog, eating good meals, having kids, enjoying a relationship. Just living. I think some of the frustration in life is wanting more, or thinking what you h

I don’t care who you are or what you do, 5;00 on a Friday is a good feeling. My phone rang right at 5:00. My screen flashed a name of a Italian guy who’d once been a friend but I hadn’t spoken to in a few years. I recalled that he’d been sick. I hadn’t called to check in. Should I answer? I felt like a dope. I didn’t even recall what he was sick with. He started right in. He was feeling better since the transplant, he said. I tried to page through my memory...transplant? Heart? Kidney? Liver? It was actually bone marrow. He’d been really, really sick. We chatted for a long while. I apologized for not knowing he’d been THAT sick. “I’m gonna be fine,” he said. “I got a lot of years left.” While I was on the phone, Jake came rushing in: “Mac Miller just died.” My boys have filled me in on the rappers. I wouldn’t know a Mac Miller song if you played it over a loudspeaker at the super bowl. But I knew he was just a kid. 26-years old. “An overdose?” I as

The former Cosby Show Star was photographed at Trader Joe’s, working as a manager. Fox News ran the story, evidently in an effort to embarrass the guy. Owens was a young man back when the Cosby Show was on the air. He’s actually been a working actor, writer and director since, but acting jobs aren’t always there. So, he works other jobs to put food on his family’s table. Is there shame in that??? The news story definitely ran in an effort to degrade the actor... ...a look how far he’s fallen type of thing. A long time ago, I made peace as a writer. I’ve often thought about whether or not I could ever just write for a living. I’m sure I could make a go. Hit the road, do the tours, play the publicity game. I’ve signed books in every major city and my last 7 have won at least a couple of awards. I definitely know what I don’t want to do... ...play that game! Write, put them out, whatever happens, move on to the next one. When I say that I write for myself it is mos

The football season feels like the kick-off to an absolute war. Nike has started an advertising campaign using Colin Kaepernick as the focal point. The Orange one will be ready with hate-filled tweets. Guys will claim not to watch anymore, and they may skip the early-season games, but by playoff time when Tom Brady leads the Patriots into the field for at least another AFC Championship game... ...everyone will be watching. Concussions be damned! Standing, kneeling, staying in the locker room... ...doesn’t matter. Anywhoha... Here we go! AFC East - Duh. The Patriots will finish first. The Buffalo Bills will finish last (can’t start a year with $54 million in dead cap space) and the rest of the mess doesn’t matter. I also have Pittsburgh, Baltimore, Kansas City, San Diego and Jacksonville in the AFC playoffs. New England will definitely play in the AFC Championship Game and will beat the Chargers to go back to the super bowl. In the NFC, the Eagles have to be a

Do yourself  favor... ...go read the CNN recap of Claire Wineland’s life. Wineland was a social media darling and an inspirational speaker in her short life. She died at the age of 21 after suffering a massive stroke following a double lung transplant. She’d suffered all of her life with Cystic Fibrosis, and spent a good portion of her life in hospitals where she would cause all kinds of trouble with her good-natured banter with doctors, nurses, specialists and other patients. Two things really struck me about the recap of her days. She’d shared so much, with such a unique perspective. Yet something she said to her Mom about death hit me. She wasn’t afraid to die because she figured that in death she would be a part of everything with everyone who was left and carried her in their heart. A pretty wonderful thought. Wineland hadn’t wanted to put her family through the battle of a double lung transplant. She initially declined to go through such a procedure, but she got e

On Saturday night, I fell asleep holding the novel I was reading...Gods of Guilt...and I woke up at 12:30 on Sunday morning with some back pain, but I was determined to do something! Visit friends, cookout! On the water!! Here’s the day: 6:30 a.m. - Melky stirred. She nosed up the shade and the morning light came in. There was a dog on the road. Melky made a low growl. Laid back down. I was with her, but sleep was over. I picked up my phone. Read the news of the day. Thought about what might happen. Full day off. Sam was gone to work by 8:00. Jake and Kathy were still asleep, but neither were late sleepers. I thought about what I’d need to do for dinner for a plan B, but I wanted to move a little. Back was barking, but manageable. I grabbed an ice pack to stay ahead of it. Sat down. Waited for other signs of life. Did some stretching. Watched - The Office. The episode about Dwight as the safety man was on. Funny stuff. Kathy, who is usually up by 7:00, started groaning loud

My kids have heard the rants. I got my first job at 14, back in 1978. Picking strawberries and planting tomatoes. I’ve been gainfully employed pretty much every day possible since. A stretch in a grocery store, years as a union laborer, taught creative writing, wrote for a magazine, a couple of months as a telemarketer (horrible job, but met a few gals), writer, Safety director, Safety consultant. I’m proud of the fact that I graduated from college in 1986 and have worked every day since. And I still live by my Dad’s advice: “If someone gives you a job to do, do more than they expect.” I have skipped vacations for years in an effort to get the job done. I battle. And man, I’m not alone!! Millions of Americans bust it every single day! My best friends (and my beautiful wife and adoring kids) are in the same boat. Get up and get after it!! And today is Labor Day. An extra day of rest. We’ve heard a whole lot of negativity in recent years about free-loaders. I’

First day into the Labor Day Weekend. “I’m cooking chicken and ribs. The pool is open.” Jim’s text was short. My day was open because much to my aggravation, everyone else was scheduled to work. Can’t make plans! As luck might have it, my back was tight. Real tight. I wanted to clean my car, get my haircut, grab some groceries. By noon, I was on ice. But chicken and ribs in the grill is hard to pass up. I headed out. Pissed that I didn’t do what I wanted to do. By the time I got home I’d laughed hard with my brothers, sister, Mom, and many others. My stomach was filled with ribs. I had a bag of veggies from Jim’s garden. A take-home plate for Kathy... ...and I got my haircut! Better than if I’d gone to Super Cuts. “Holy shit,” Jim said. “A meal, a haircut and a take-home bag.” “Like a homeless dude,” Chuck said. “Didn’t even have to listen to a religious service.” A beautiful summer day. Hell, my back even felt a little better.

Three stories caught my eye this past week: 1). John McCain’s send-off was perfect. Not “a little over the top” as Trump said. McCain spent 5.5 years as a POW. That’s good in my book. The part of the service that caught my attention (besides the exceptional send-off by Biden) was Roberta McCain saying goodbye to her 82-year-old son. She’s 106! Looks good too!! God Bless Her. 2). The story of the kid who shot up the Madden Tournament in Jacksonville was one I might have skipped. How many shooting stories can you read? Yet, there was news that cops had been called to his home on 26 separate times. He’d been labeled as a kid who was seriously mentally disturbed. His parents were at their wits end. And he passed the background checks!!! Bought his murder weapon a month ago!!! That has to change! 3). The third story that upset me was about the 9-year-old boy who committed suicide because he was being bullied for being gay. 9-years old? Gay??? At 9, I was trying