Thoughts of a Common Man

Another Dad in San Francisco story. During the construction of the Hotel Meridien in downtown San Francisco I didn’t actually work for my Dad.  My boss was Ralph. His son worked for my Dad. Dad and Ralph were good buddies and unbeknownst today me or to Ralph’s son... ...they made a bet. On which son could work more hours one week. Ralph called me into his office on Monday morning. “Mandatory overtime this week,” he told me. “I need you to work from 6 to 6 each day, and don’t make plans for the weekend.” That was great news for my wallet, but I was working hard every day. By Wednesday I was good and tired. On Saturday morning, I was a walking zombie. That’s when me and Ralph’s son figured out that we were being used as pawns in the bet.  I asked Dad about it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’re working tomorrow, right?” Sunday was double time. At 5:30 in the morning we made the trip from Mill Valley. “How much money do you have?” Dad asked. “Nothing,” I said. “I didn’t

I was at a construction site today and this story came up. I have to write it down. It was May 15th, 1983. I was 18 years old. I was also freshly done with my first year of college.  For the first time in my life, I boarded an airplane alone and flew from Buffalo through Chicago and landed in San Francisco.  Dad picked me up at the airport and he was happy to have the company. He had to leave the family for work, but it was the job of his career. He was the top dog at the building of a 47-story hotel in downtown San Fran. He was bringing his newest Union laborer to work with him the next day. I didn’t have a whole lot of construction experience. In fact, I’d never put on work boots before that.  But I was ready! That first day I was sent in to clean out the elevator shaft at the first floor. It was loaded with garbage and debris. I cleaned it all out, annoyed that every half hour or so I was caught in a rain shower. Whatever. I went from there to a chipping hammer. I spent the rest of

There was a moment as I traveled through Logan Airport in Boston when I thought: “What in the hell am I doing?” For those who don’t know, airports are pretty empty. Most every shop or restaurant is closed. There are about ten people at each gate, spread about as far apart as you can get. All masked up. God help the man who coughs or sneezes! I cleared my throat - I drove a long ways and sang a bunch of songs along with Elvis, Bruce, Mellencamp, Stones - so my throat was scratchy. A woman got up and moved away. I also stood in front of an elevator as it opened. It was a huge elevator that held a man, a woman and a child in a stroller. I took a step in and the woman said: “Would you mind waiting for the next one?” It aggravated me! The elevator comfortably holds 20 people - huge! - she wanted it to herself, her husband and her little dopey kid! “What am I doing?” “Why am I moving around?” “What do I miss the most???” I miss seeing my extended family! Cookouts at Jim’s. Seeing Mom at a pi

We played golf on Sunday morning and we all had some good moments.  None of us are good enough to par each hole so we try to keep it going as a team. I carried the first few holes, JC had two in a row, Pops rolled in a birdie, Scott hit a twisting 40-foot putt. All in all, a lot of fun and I am really striking the ball well. I don’t get it either because I hurt before and after each round, but while we are playing, I feel good. Sun on my face, and I might be getting stronger.  💪  When I got home the Yankees were on and they were down 2-0. Jake stopped by, Sam came out of his room, and Kathy kept an eye on the game being played in an empty stadium. The two dogs and the cat were scattered around the room. “That a boy, Gleyber,” I said when he hit a homer to cut the lead in half. I got up to let Melky out. “Voit just tied it!” Sam called out. The crowd was going wild! 2-2 game. “It’s actually well done with the announcers, and the sounds of the game,” I said. “Life is better with sports,

On July 25, 1984, I returned early to college. We got some beer and put out the word that we’d be having a party. A lot of people showed up and it was a tad out of hand. It was just me and my buddy, Fluffy, there holding down the fort so we wanted to be sure we didn’t trash the place before the rest of our rommies got to town. I spotted Fluff around 1:00 in the morning. He was tipsy. “We gotta’ talk,” he yelled over the Bruce record playing on the stereo. “What’s up?” “We have to get rid of these people because Bruce is playing at the CNE tomorrow in Toronto and we’re going!” I laughed. “We don’t have tickets, or money for tickets,” I reasoned. “We have your tuition money. We’ll scalp them.” Given that Fluffy was tipsy I said this: “You clear this place and wake me up at 6:00 and we’ll go.” Didn’t think there was a chance in hell, but at 6:00 he was there, shaking me awake. “Let’s go!” I knew it would be something I’d remember forever. We loaded into my car and headed out. A four-hour

I certainly can create my own problems sometimes. The Yankees played and won on Thursday and then, in between games 1 & 2 every other team in their division lost so I posted a shot of the standings, asking all who was in first place. Then the Saturday game started and man, there are a lot of people watching baseball! Every time the Nationals got a hit I got a message. “What’s wrong with the Yankees?” I laughed a little. Baseball is a game that is played every day. Even in this short season they will play most every day and of course, there will be wins and there will be losses. In a regular year every single team loses 60 times! So, I’m conditioned to follow the soap opera of a season and so far it’s been a blast, checking scores of all the games, seeing how my hitters are doing for my fantasy team. Makes the rest of 2020 interesting, I hope! “Who cares?” Someone wrote. “They’re all a bunch of kneeling idiots.” I laughed at that too. If they’re kneeling at every event where the ant

“Person. Woman. Man. Camera. T.V.” Those five words were said everywhere yesterday after watching a truly mind-boggling clip of President McFiveWords explain how cognitively there he is. I don’t care for the guy, but watching him stumble through that was painful because I was acutely aware that he has a lot of power. And he’s dangerous because there are STILL a lot of people out there who are claiming that he’s the answer to lead us out of the civil unrest and virus mess that we’re in because he didn’t do his job the first time! His boyfriend Hannity tried to interview him as I was gleefully watching the Yankees opener. The question of Joe Biden’s mental acuity came up and Trump rambled all over in answering. “You look at what’s happening,” being his oft-repeated phrase that means nothing. Well, look at what’s happening in cities across the land. There’s a goon squad entering and yanking Americans off the streets. No due process. Zero explanation of who or why or what the hell this mil

I was excited all day. Yankees-Nationals. Opening Day. 100+ days late because of the “it’s a flu” type crowd.  I kept thinking about how this shouldn’t have happened, but then I decided to just live in the moment and try to enjoy the sport I love the most. Aaron Judge is the face of the Yankees and he hit a bullet and then Giancarlo Stanton hit a 💣 bomb. The crowd noises are pumped in. No high fives, but they also pumped in the organ noises and watching on television didn’t seem all that different, honestly. However, before the game even started the Nationals lost their best young hitter as he tested positive for Covid.  The Yankees were missing DJ and Chapman to the virus. But the sport CAN finish these 60 games as long as not everyone in the team gets sick at once. There are 60 players available for each team. So, in a year of complete, absolute garbage there was a reason to smile a little bit. Around the 5th inning a huge black cloud came into view over the center field wall. “A li

I saw the job on my job list: North Collins High School. I didn’t think a whole lot about it, but I knew I’d be going because I wanted to stop and see Mom and drop off some essentials. I wasn’t quite ready to walk through the doors of my high school. I parked in a lot across from the front of the school and I immediately glanced to the sidewalk in front of the main door. At 13 years old I had walked down that sidewalk with my first real date. Ruth Hunter. I worked up my nerve to hold her hand as we walked to the Lemon Tree for curly fries. 43 years ago! I could feel the same nervousness. I still text back and forth with Ruth and we’ve laughed over that date, but it makes my heart stir a bit. I headed through the front door and went straight to the construction office. It’s in Mr. Dicembre’s old room.   “I got thrown out of this room when I was a senior,” I told the construction manager. “I told Mr. Dicembre that I got accepted to Gannon and he told me ‘I graduated from there. If I had

Just listened to the new Stones song featuring Jimmy Page. Imagine someone mentioning to me, back in 1977 that the Stones and Page would team up 43 years later. They were calling them the Rolling Bones back in the 80’s. Got home yesterday and the television was already on to a news station. I was getting tacos ready for dinner and the Coronavirus briefing started. Almost chopped a finger off slicing onions when Trump’s voice made it across the living room and into the kitchen. “I banned the flights from China, all right, saved a million lives.” I couldn’t do it.  Almost killed two dogs and a cat trying to get to the remote. So I missed the part where he wished the child molester well. We are living in strange times indeed. “How’s work feel for you,” I asked one of my golf partners. “Hard to get into it the same way,” he said. “Same here,” I confessed. “A lot of us feel that way.” Tomorrow is opening day! Nearing the end of July. I love baseball but it’s hard to get into it. “1,000 deat

Watched some of the Yankees trouncing of the hapless Mets. No fans. Empty stadium. Stanton hit a 448-feet homer and the ball rolled down the bleachers, untouched. It was all so weird. They pumped in a little crowd noise and there’s talk of putting cardboard cut outs of fans in the seats. Television and the same old announcing team made it seem somewhat normal, but I have to admit something here. It’s all lost a bit of shine. Like the rest of 2020. And I do hope that sports can come back and distract us all from the absolute shit show that is playing out nationally. Dr. Fauci will be throwing out the first pitch in the game between the Nationals and the Yankees. Everyone is supposed to be “patriotic” and wear masks now because the polls are showing Biden way ahead. And I feel weird. Ah well. Tomorrow is opening day. 60-game season. Go Yankees!

I couldn’t resist any longer. On Saturday night we were watching a movie and I decided to order the book written by Mary Trump. It’s a page-turner and I felt uncomfortable all the way through it.  I once worked in a family business where there was a whole lot of money being made and socked away by the old men in charge. There was a lot of fear running through that place. Every worker felt it. I didn’t. I believed that they were spoiled, and kinda’ nasty.  Fred Trump seemed to be a real picnic. He didn’t appear to have much love for his family. All of his children lived in absolute fear. Thing is, old Fred didn’t spend crazily. Instead, he worked, cheated the system, didn’t pay taxes, and ruled with an iron fist. The relationship between Fred and Donald was a match made in heaven. Donald’s niece believes that her grandfather didn’t think much of Donald. No one did. His mother wasn’t a fan. His behavior towards his siblings was abysmal. He tried to steal all the money and squandered mill

I have a slow leak in my front tire so every three or four days I have to add a little air before I head off to work. It’s irritating and I tried to have it repaired, but that didn’t work out. So, to the air pumps I go. And every single time the hose is a mess and it’s always tangled with the vacuum hose, despite the sign that says, “Please wind up the air hose when you’re done.” The guy before me (every time) just can’t be bothered. It aggravates me. Headed to a job and immediately got into it with a guy who doesn’t believe in wearing a mask. “I’ll do it at work or at the grocery store, but if there’s not a sign up, I ain’t doing it.” I have a gator-type mask. I pulled it up. “That’s too hard to do when you’re out?” “I don’t want to be controlled!” He said, too loudly. “I wear it for the next guy,” I said. “I try to think about the guy next to me. Maybe he’s sick or maybe his wife has cancer.” I pulled the gator up and down again. “That’s not a big deal.” “He should protect himself,”

We have big garbage this weekend so the huge chore has been cleaning out the garage. This time we were going to go all in. I found a box filled with Pokémon figurines and some Barney tapes. My youngest kid is 20. I was good and detached about all of it until I moved the toy box filled with balls. A poster floated to the ground. “Chris Jericho is the best.” We had spent an entire afternoon making that poster before we headed to the arena for the wrestling matches. We went a couple of times... Me, Jake, Sam and Uncle Chuck. My heart skipped a few beats. Then it got sad. Their hockey sticks, a bean bag game that was all the rage for a little while. We have about 30 tennis rackets... ...I’ve never seen any of my kids ever hit a tennis ball. We moved the three bikes that haven’t been moved since about 2012 to the road with a sign that read, ‘FREE’. The bikes were gone in less than an hour. During the sweeping up of the mess they left behind the toy box I started to feel more than sad. Their

It was just a throw-away line in a show we were watching where one character said to the other: “When did you know that life wasn’t going to be as great as you thought it would be?” I immediately thought back to the innocent days of my youth when there wasn’t a whole lot to worry about. Mom and Dad has us covered and we spent a whole lot of time laughing and loving and having a blast. There was a blank page ahead of me and I could write all over it. That was fun. And I think to the early days of our marriage when the days were hectic and it was a crazy race to get all three boys to bed, and then try and sneak some sleep in. So many possibilities for my children. I was still having a lot of fun, building my career, writing and dreaming. The pages of that blank book filling in. Still loving life. But I was forever mindful of the idea that life can chew you up and spit you out. Live every day. Love everyone. Smell the roses. Life’s like a box of chocolates. And all that shit. Life can gri

The Bills and New Era announced that they’re dissolving their partnership and that the Bills will be looking for a new name for the stadium. I still call it Rich Stadium sometimes. Or the Ralph when it was named for former owner Ralph Wilson. Now what? Of course it’ll be sold to the highest bidder and we may be soon calling it Kars for Kids stadium or Cellino & Barnes Field, but how about honoring some of our old players? Orenthal Field? He’s on the wall of honor, why not? Jim Kelly Stadium? That one’s all right, actually? How about going the Yankees way and not actually selling the rights. Yankee Stadium is the best name of any stadium, right. Just Buffalo Bills Field. But something is weird about the Pegulas. We hear that they’re worth billions and billions from their fracking, but they have let the Sabres arena go to pot. The arena hasn’t been upgraded at all. They say that water drips in some areas and that the seats are ripped. When Covid hit they took forever to actually pay

I’m thinking that the title of this post should be the new name of the D.C. football team. It’s perfect.   It can only offend those who are lying bastards and since they don’t have a conscience, they won’t care. But I have listened to the argument against the Redskins and Indians for years. “Their name doesn’t offend anyone,” a pasty white guy told me. “Maybe it offends Native Americans,” I said. “It shouldn’t,” he said. “Everyone is so sensitive.” “What’s your heritage?” I asked. “Polish and proud!” He said. “What if they were the Washington Pollacks?” I said. “Not the same thing,” he answered. “The Native Americans wouldn’t be offended then,” I said. “Where’s it end?” He asked. “Are people offended by the Braves or Warriors or even the Yankees? People from the south don’t like the Yankees.” I decided to go to a reliable source. My father-in-law is a huge Cleveland Indians fan. “What do you think about them changing the name?” I asked. “Change it,” he said. “It’s a stupid name.” I was

We should actually deal with facts and not the insane ranting of someone like Chuck Woolery who claimed that the CDC, the media and the Democrats are trying to advance the Covid-19 agenda to get back at Trump. Here’s a fact: No one wants the world to be closed down. We want to work. We want to go to baseball games. We want our children back in school. Another fact: The virus is real. All the sick and dead people, all throughout the world (mind you), should tell you that much.  I’m not sure anyone would actually get sick and die to pull off the prank. Here’s a lie for you: We don’t have the most or the best tests. We would not have less cases if we tested less people. Tests or not, we have cases. A lot of cases. How about a fact: The virus spreads easier if when two people meet that neither wears a mask. If one of them does the chance of spread goes down. If both do, the spread is even less. Maybe you don’t like the way you look in a mask. Perhaps it seems like a grand conspiracy to str

The ball is really leaving my club well. I felt very confident as I approached the tee and the ball went down the middle, more often than not. Still, golf is golf. A really fickle, difficult game that really takes a lot of concentration on every shot. We all had good tee shots on #11 and I was only 75 yards from the pin. I put the chip on the green and two-putted for the par. “What an easy game.” #12 is just a 140-yard hole. Feeling confident and fairly cocky about life... ...I promptly stepped up and hit my tee shot about 25 yards. “Are you freaking kidding me?” And like life, the idea is to not linger too long over what you’ve just screwed up. We golf together as a close group of friends and we all root for one another. “You can still par it,” Scott said. I’d like to say that I did, but I actually chipped on and two-putted for the bogey, which was fine, but that’s life and golf. There are a lot of great things about golf.  1). Being outside.  The weather has been outstanding. Hot &am

We bought a hot tub a few years back. Sam loved it. He made it his home office of sorts, but then last summer Sam, my nephew John and Sam’s buddy Ben destroyed the cover by wrestling on it. They didn’t tell me at first and then Sam tried to limp his way through it by heating it for hours before he went in. Then I saw it. I decided that tough love was the way to go. Told them that they would have to figure out where to get a new cover. They didn’t do a damn thing. So, I let it sit there, but it was bugging me. Then a few weeks ago, I mentioned it at golf. “Fix the cover,” my buddy Scott said. “It’s just a piece of rigid foam. You should be able to get your hands on that.” Was at a job and mentioned it to one of the supervisors. “Damn, I had a piece,” he said. “Just returned it to the office.” Cut to early this week. I was having lunch with my buddy Bob and we were across the street from a pool store. “I need a piece of rigid foam,” I said. “I have two,” Bob said. “Come get em.” On Frida

I don’t care who you are or what you do for a living the Friday afternoon get-away is a great feeling. Back in college the guys who lived below us would start Friday morning by blasting the song, “The Boys Are Back in Town.” 8 a.m. on the dot, at full volume. I can’t hear that song and not think of that. After college and well into my working career, Friday nights were reserved for happy hour. I’d get to the bar and have a few beers to blow off steam. A lot of steam. As the kids arrived, Friday nights were usually the nights when we’d go out to dinner. I’d be so happy that the work week was done and I’d spend 48 hours doing something with the boys. I bring this all up because on Friday afternoon, battling the stifling heat, I grew excited for the coming weekend. I hurried home and wrote my reports quickly and it dawned on me: No one was home and there weren’t any plans. Besides, I was worn out from the hot sun.  Wow. Not a whole lot to be fired up about! And I thought about my Dad and

The only extended break we had from school was during the blizzard of ‘77 when the furnace went down at the high school and we were off for two weeks. Was a great break. We played long games of hockey down the street. Of course, school was flat-out canceled for kids this year, and since the virus is running rampant now all over the place, well, you just knew the leaders would have a comprehensive plan for safety. Send them back!! Not to be out-stupided by king stupid, Florida’s governor said: “If people can go to Home Depot they can go to school.” Yeah. Brilliant. Because people go to Home Depot for 7 hours a day, 5 days a week and they sit next to 30 other people. I know some 25-30 year veterans of the educational system. “We have had some talks about it,” one man said, “And it’s pretty much impossible logistically.” Imagine young children socially distancing on a bus or in a hallway. Then imagine high school kids even caring enough to pretend. Then imagine the middle-aged teachers an

I will not complain about the heat. It hit 100 degrees in Siberia this week... ...which probably isn’t good news for the ice up there. I’ve been a sweating machine by 8:00 every morning this week and haven’t actually seen as much as a single rain drop since about the end of May. I’m good with it. As well-chronicled here, I hate the snow and cold. The dark, dreary days make for hours and hours of misery. So bring the heat! Even late in the round on Sunday when I was wearing down, I knew that I was still having fun. I dipped my mask in the ice chest and wore it on my head like Chevy Chase walking through the desert in Vacation. And all the sun has made me as dark as I’ve been in years. I’m not sure if I’ve ever used sun screen more than 3 times in my life and I’ve only ever had sunburn once... ...in Florida, the day we saw Pam Anderson at the top less beach. Anywhoha... What was I talking about??? Oh yeah, the sun. I actually said it on Sunday. I love the feel of the sun on my face. I be

Sam has been gone for about ten days. He’s due home soon and for the first nine days I stayed well clear of his room, but I also knew, down deep that I was missing my chance. To actually clean the place. Now, he will clean it, now and again, but it’s the short version of a cleanup. He stuffs things here and there, out of view. I knew I could make some major improvements with him out of my hair. Thing is, both Matt and Jake left their rooms without actually clearing out their things. Since about 2003! I found a box filed with Scooby-Doo toys. There are still Barney videos down there! Now, Sam has a couple of major problems when it comes to organization: 1). He’s not big on actually putting his clothes away. He has plenty of dresser space, but he also still has clothes that he wore back when he was watching the Barney videos. And his biggest problem: 2). Socks! He has socks everywhere! I’m not sure if they match, and he doesn’t actually care much, but somewhere along the way, he has gath

The speech at Mt. Rushmore was, by all accounts, bizarre. There was a great effort spent in trying to get people all up in a dander about statues being removed. Not sure where I fall in the politics of the issue, but I don’t care about Andrew Jackson or any of the losing generals during the civil war. I never actually understood the desire to fly the confederate flag, but it didn’t enrage me when I saw it either. Yet, if you’re flying it because you have a racist agenda... ...that’s weak. What I found bizarre about it was that it seemed like an agenda.  Like being racist or at least stirring up racist thoughts is the campaign strategy. Yet, it was such a nonsensical slur fest that I just skipped over it. Listen to the audio... ...he was definitely impaired somehow. 4th of July, racial overtones with Mt. Rushmore in the background, taking up for the confederacy. Ignore it. But Monday was a brand new day and one of the tweets was an attack on the black race car driver. Racism as a strate

In all my years, I’ve never had a cat, petted a cat, or wanted a cat. Turns out, I didn’t have a choice in the matter. One of Sam’s friends got evicted and suddenly there were four cats living in one of our spare bedrooms. Day one, two of the cats were adopted. So, we’re down to two. I didn’t see them. The litter box was clean, and Sam was on the water and food detail. Cat #3 disappeared before the end of the first week. I finally caught on to something: Sam was pretty happy with the one cat that remained. I almost stepped on it one day when it left the back room. “What’s it’s name?” I asked. “Corona,” Jake answered. “Really?” “No, it was Meatball, but we’re changing it to Miller?” I have a buddy named Miller and my kids are comfortable in busting on him.  “Partly,” Sam said. “It’s for Mac Miller too.” “Okay, keep Miller away from me.” For a month all was well, but Sam headed off to North Carolina to visit his cousins. Miller was off to one of his friend’s house. Two days later we got

Like everything else in 2020 the celebration for the 4th of July was different. Different for us because we actually went somewhere! We gathered at my sister-in-laws house and while there wasn’t a whole lot of attention paid to the virus we were outside and there was a lot of room. A lot of food too. And a fireworks display that was more than what my town put on back when I was a kid. As I often do at parties these days I sit back on the periphery of a lot of conversations. I like to watch the kids play and it’s always fun to see my wife with her siblings. They’ve had a really tough year and we missed those who’ve left us, but the thing about life is... ...it goes on. I often think of Tom Joad’s Mom in the Grapes of Wrath and how as they made their journey, they suffered loss. “What will we do now?” Tom Joad’s father asks. “We keep going,” is essentially what her answer was. That’s what I thought of this 4th of July and America in general. We’ve suffered... ...we’re moving ahead. Diffe

My back hurts. My feet are buzzing, and work has been pretty busy, but the sun has been shining so brightly every single day. The yard looks decent. The ball is coming off the club properly (most of the time) and my tan is dark. There has been so much darkness in the news. So much bad news. Sick and unemployed people. Lies being sold as truth. But every day has been clear and bright. I’m not sure that we’ve seen rain here in two weeks. When I was in Kansas the temps were in the mid-90’s. Hot and dusty. Played a round of golf on Friday. We normally tee off in the early hours but we went off at 11:30. Hot! And I was battling the sore back most of the way, but was playing all right. The course we play most often has three challenging holes to finish. When we pulled up on 16, I filled my hat with ice. We were telling two guys who have never played the course that 16 is the hardest hole on the course. “I had a par putt here last week,” I said. “I missed it, but that’s the closest I ever cam

Was a challenging week for me for 3 reasons: 1). On Sunday I was playing golf, very well through the first five holes. I broke my orange tee. I had white tees that were exactly the same.  Popped up the drive on six. Went into tizzy. I didn’t play poorly, but I never felt comfortable and I obsessed. Stayed obsessed about it through Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday as I wandered the aisles of sporting goods stores, finding plenty of tees, but not my orange ones. I had dreams about it! 2). My Surface Pro computer broke. I ordered a new one but it wasn’t set to arrive until Wednesday. So, I used my I-phone for reports. Totally out of sync! Got the new computer on Wednesday but it doesn’t have a slot for a flash drive.  “You can just grab them out of the one drive,” Matt said. “I don’t know what that means!” 3). The mower was busted. The easy thing to do would be to go get a new one, but that would mean I would have to take a loss. “I can fix it,” I told myself each morning before I got out of

It’s amazing that we are back at “hoax”. Guess it was either that or witch hunt. Setting up everything as fake news was also incredibly important, but to those of you still on the fence regarding the bounty on the heads of American troops, thinking Donald wasn’t in on it. Ask yourself, where’s the condemnation of Russia? Wouldn’t you at least pretend to be upset about it? Shouldn’t the administration put out a ‘thoughts and prayers’ type tweet? He won’t say anything bad about Putin or Russia!!! They were hunting American troops, according  to every intelligence agency in the world. They found the guy who was handing out the money. He lives in Russia. The entire story can be verified in one’s mind by simply reading along. But on Wednesday we got: “Fake News” “Failing New York Times” “Pocohantas” “Black Lives is terrorism” “Hoax” Every single possible insult hurled in every direction... ...except one. “Getting along with Russia isn’t a bad thing!” Look at how many times he’s said it! Tre

I can’t imagine not reading for fun. I can’t go to sleep without reading at least 10 or 15 or 50 or 75 pages of something! It’s been that way all my life, and I seriously can count the number of days in my life when I didn’t read before sleep. There are nights when the book hits the floor because I’ve fallen asleep while reading. There are just as many nights when I fall asleep and I wake up holding the book open to the page that I was reading. I read for my job, and also read as many articles and stories as I can right when I wake up. I get a lot of those stories off of Twitter. I also buy the Buffalo News every morning and I read that each day. Now, I’m not bragging here. I am quite sure that I’m in the minority. I don’t know a lot of people who read 75-100 books every year. “Only book I’ve read since high school was “Oh Brother: The Life & Times of Jeff Fazzolari”,” one friend said. “Well, at least it was a great choice,” I said. Thing is, I can’t imagine that as president of th