Thoughts of a Common Man

The last day of 2021. Another weird year, by all accounts. No need to rehash it! What are we all looking forward to??? 1). No more Covid Wouldn’t that be lovely? The hospitals are still being taxed, and no matter what anyone thinks, the healthcare workers need a break. And a lot of people are still dying as a result of it. Those are facts. Argue the science all you like, tell me that masks don’t work, and that Fauci started it so he could make money because he owns the Wuhan lab. I don’t care to discuss it anymore.  I just hope it ends in 2022. 2). Writing  I’ve always felt that I needed to take a break. The breaks never last very long because I get antsy. Just know that there are ones that have been started. A comedy. A number of short stories. A story about my high school basketball team. There is also I want to do: A Barking Lions part 2. My goal for my lifetime is 20 published books. I’m at 16. Kind of hard to think I won’t just blow right by 20. Gotta’ leave a mark! 3). Springstee

It’s automatic. I get to the last two days of the year and I start reflecting back. 2021 was another very uneven year because of Covid, and because work was uneven and at times haunting. I had to deal with fatalities again, and those truly take the steam  out of what the job should be. It’s all about prevention and when the worst of all things happen, well, it takes it out of me a bit. I released two books. ‘The Barking Lions’ was so much fun, from beginning to end. I wrote it quick, the publishing wasn’t difficult, and the reviews were great. Then it won a couple of awards to cap it all off, but it was a story about friendship, and man, it was great to walk back to the camp site, to the ball fields and through time. Proud of that effort. I also released a book that I wrote as a tribute to the guy who beat Penile cancer. Dave’s battle was inspiring, and his wife, Carolyn’s devotion, was the heartbeat of the telling of their story. The writing was great in 2021. The rest was way uneven!

I’m going on vacation. Yep. And not only am I going for a 3-day golf get-away, we set up a 4-day visit to a warm weather location that is just a couple of hours away from the golf. So, a full week off. In the sun (hopefully). And the thing about it is that we certainly should do it way more often, but Covid stopped even the thought of it for the last couple of years. Kathy researched it while I was off at work on Tuesday. “Just give me the number,” I said. She did, and then she set up the booking for a place that we had visited about 4 years ago. “Are we sure?” She asked. “You haven’t checked your schedule.” “It’s set far enough away,” I said. “And the schedule can wait.” “Really?” “Do it!” Moments later she yelled out: “Booked!” We are now officially 31 days away. Covid be damned, work can wait. Sunshine.  A golf club in my hand.  Good food.  A hot tub.  A swimming pool. Maybe I leave the phone home… …with the freaking puppy.

It’s been a few months with this “Let’s Go Brandon” thing, right? I don’t know how it started, but I heard long ago that it meant, “F**k Joe Biden”. Which made little sense to me; so I ignored it. Figured that it was so juvenile that it would just disappear. I mean the basis of it seems like it was developed by a couple of 5th graders. Then I saw it painted on signs outside of houses that still have blue and white Trump signs instead of the American flag waving. Confusing. I never once thought about wearing a tee-shirt with the photo or slogan of a politician on it. Seems too much to me like rooting for a sports team. Political stars on shirts and bumper stickers and barns and houses. Too cultish for me. Seriously odd. But, I can’t ignore it anymore, I guess because some dope said “Let’s Go Brandon” to the President after the president wished the guy’s kid a Merry Christmas. That’s not even 5th grade… …more like 3rd grade. Biden did the absolute right thing. He ignored it. It simply sh

Leo, Streep, Jonah Hill… …about a comet ☄️ striking the Earth and obliterating all of life. There’s a 6-month warning. “What would you do if there was only 6 months left?” I asked, as we watched the movie. “Nothing,” Kathy said. “What is there to do? Maybe all kinds of drugs.” I laughed. As the movie showed, there would be mistrust. Disbelief, anger, and fighting. A chase for who could make the most money off of the destruction, and half the country fighting the other half over whether or not science means anything. And then we would all be blown to smithereens. But the point of my question. What would you do differently if the world were to be blown away in 6 months? If we all got that advance warning I’m certain that life would be an absolute mess. Mayhem and murder and drunkenness and stupidity. Would they still finish the sports seasons? Would the churches be busting at the seams? “What about you?” Kathy asked. “I’d eat well,” I said. I would also hang out with the people I like. W

Saw a post on Twitter from someone in the Midwest. She said that her family has been in a year-long battle about the inheritance and that her uncle showed up at the family Christmas gathering with a to-go container. He filled it with food, didn’t say a word to anyone, and left. They saw him eating in his truck, and then he peeled out and left. Made me laugh. Yet the battle is real for a lot of families. I don’t quite understand how it gets that crazy. There are a lot of political in-family squabbles as well. Many members of the same family don’t quite see eye-to-eye on Covid and vaccinations which is a whole ‘nother problem. Having a get-together is a tad risky right now anyway. When you aren’t sure who might not be vaccinated it’s even worse, but of course, the unvaccinated are quite vocal about how stupid you are to do it. There’s not a whole lot of fighting on either side of our family. My philosophy on it is to just not comment. If an inflammatory text is going ‘round, I’ll simply

My Mom gifted rings that belonged to Dad to me and my brothers. I put the ring on and I don’t intend to take it off. Until I gift it to one of my boys. The inscription reads: From: L.J.F. To J.C.F. - 07/03/61 And when I slipped that ring on my finger I thought about all the love that ring was a symbol of. The crazy dinners, the laughter, the life lessons, the joy and the heartache. A whole lot of living goes into sixty years. And Dad, of course, wore the ring proudly and he put everything he had into his jobs as a husband and a father. Christmas Eve raced on by and I sat and watched my 3 boys as they opened gifts, traded barbs, and laughed and ate. They are a product of the love that is symbolized in that ring. What I know about being a Dad… …part of the ring. How I learned to be a husband… …yeah… …the ring. Perfect gift.

It’s impossible to not think back about past Christmas Eve gatherings. As a kid the anticipation of Christmas was tempered by that trip to Grandma and Grandpa Fuzzy’s home. When we passed through the door and made our way to Grandpa’s chair to give him a kiss, we all knew that we were going to have a great night and that we had finally made it to Christmas. Grandma’s pizza was legendary, and I was partial to the anchovy slices. Even as a kid.  It was an absolute madhouse! Dad came from a big family too so the place was standing room only. Hugs and kisses and presents and pasta and pizza and fish and peppers and laughter. I still hear that laughter. Grandma and Grandpa Schryver were usually there as well, and Grandpa Schryver would join me at the anchovy pizza. “Us Cliffs have to stick together.” Grandpa Clifford said that thousands of times. As adults the party shifted to the big house on the hill, and the kids made it magical. Mom and Dad bought thousands of dollars of gifts. The food

There are mornings when I wake up just knowing that Dad came to visit me. I see him clearly, and hear his voice. I wake up thanking God or the part of my brain that brings him to me in those nightly visits. The celebration of his birthday each year since he passed away isn’t a sad event for me because the one thing I know to be true about Dad is that he emptied the freaking tank every single day. He lived life hard. Dad succeeded at so many things in so many ways and I had a front row seat to all of it. We spent time on the road together, eating great dinners (that he usually prepared), drank hundreds of beers together, argued, listened to music, went to ballgames, and had deep conversations that often exploded into laughter. One of the best moments, near the end of his life came when I told him a joke that he’d never heard. It made him spit his coffee, and I can still see that burst of laughter. He made me tell the joke to others at get-togethers afterwards. And of course, his voice i

With the exception of the long-gone drinking days I’ve always jumped out of bed with the crazy expectation that something good will happen today. I can remember the days I was late for work… …because it only ever happened once. If I happen to set an alarm I’m usually up a few minutes before it’s set to go off, and if I do set an alarm it’s because I need to get up really early. Been like that all my life… …but not in this last month! I’m tired! I’ve been tired since golf ended and it’s because each night has been busted sleep. Take last night, for instance. I headed up early with an aim on getting at least 7 hours. Paris, the old dog, and Miller the cat came up with me. At 4:00, on the dot there was a meeting at the cat’s food bowl. Paris ate the food. Miller, who has anger management issues: Went off!!! I imagine what those air raid sirens were like back in WW 2. Miller has one. “Okay, okay,” I said through the sleep fog. “I’m on it.” Re-filled the bowl and everyone went back to bed.

The thing about writing a book is that you’re out on an island for the writing, and it’s often so damn tedious because you write it, read it, edit it, rewrite it, read it again, edit it again, read it again and then finally come to the conclusion, as the writer, that, this is… …absolute garbage. And then it goes out there anyway, and you shy away because you grew to be so sick of it… …and the reviews come in from readers and… …they like it! They get it! The entire message, as you meant to write it. And sometimes the message is important like in “Life Isn’t Always Beautiful.” Cancer touches a lot of people. Penile cancer touches almost no one! The crazy thing about it is that people who are diagnosed with a life-altering illness can react just a couple of different ways: They can rise up and fight… …or they can let it eat them alive mentally. And man, everyone in that situation needs the support of friends and loved ones. And laughter. The reviews of the book are good and I’m happy for

I sound like an old man now, but man, I don’t get it. It was 28 degrees here on Sunday and a chill wind made it feel like it was about 10. I headed down Abbott Road to drop off Jake and his girlfriend  and I saw all the fans hanging out, drinking beer, standing in front of grills, and throwing a football. For the Bills against the Panthers.  A game that was never truly a contest.  Going in, everyone knew the Bills would win! Just before the half I got a text from Jake: “Can you pick us up at halftime?” I saw their approach from a long way away. They looked absolutely miserable! Jake’s face was frozen. They got into the warm car. “This was the best decision ever,” Maggie said. “Oh hell yeah. It was miserable.” Then they ate pizza and wings and laid under a heating pad. We watched the 3rd quarter. Spotted a man in the crowd with his shirt off! His face was painted to match the Grinch! “That’s a grown ass man,” I said, and Kathy laughed. The guy had grey hair! “It would cost at least $5,0

I almost crashed the car the other day as I tried to change the channel when “White Christmas” came on. I am NOT a fan of Christmas songs… …at all! And life has been weird for a long while. Back when I worked in the construction crews during college the entire occupation shut down in November. We would have to do training in the winter months, but there wasn’t a lot going on. It doesn’t slow down at all anymore. There are a lot of jobs just getting started now. So, it’s bound to happen: “It doesn’t even feel like Christmas,” is something I hear a lot from guys out there. That’s truly the deal around here right now. We don’t even have a tree up… …are kicking around doing a table top one. Kathy’s injury isn’t the problem. It’s all about taking bets on which pet will knock it over each day.  The dog with dementia? The puppy? The cat with anger management issues? It’ll be a mess! And presents??? The present getter isn’t getting any for us. “What do you want from Santa?” I asked each of the

Springsteen sold his songs to Sony Music for $500 million. Not bad for 50 years of work, and it’s funny but a lot of his fans are mad that he “sold out.” I laughed when I read those comments. I also thought about the Bruce on Broadway Show where he told the story of begging his Mom to rent a guitar after he saw Elvis on the Ed Sullivan Show. His family was poor and his Mom had to scrimp and save to rent the guitar for her 10 year old son. He gathered all the people from the neighborhood and assembled them in his backyard and as he says in the show, there was only one problem: “He couldn’t play the f****ng thing! It was hard!!” Be he twirled it, and pretended to play it and he posed with it and his little friends cheered. Bruce wrapped up the story by saying how disappointed he was when the rental was up, and they had to return the guitar. “For a brief moment, I felt it. When they cheered me holding that guitar, I got excited. I smelled blood.” Then he worked his ass off. Totally dedica

The bad news was delivered in a text from Kathy. She included the time and address and even the doctor’s name. I was reminded to be there 15 minutes early, told to wear my mask and was told to ask for a shingles shot and massages for my ever-aching back. I headed straight to the docs from a job site and to be totally honest I was okay with sitting in a chair for a minute and scrolling through the news of the day. Didn’t work that way.  I no sooner sat down when a guy called my name. He took my blood pressure and checked my pulse rate and had me step on the scale. All standard stuff but I had dropped a number of pounds since last year’s physical. Ten minutes later the doctor was there. “Why’d you lose weight?” She asked. “They’re working me to a nub,” I said. She laughed, asked me how I was feeling. We talked about the back pain, and then she tested my reflexes and listened to my heart and lungs. She then had me follow a pen light with my eyes… …and that was it! When we were kids that’s

A bunch of text messages have been read for all to hear. Of course, they were provided to Congress by the chief of staff who was using a personal phone for texts and emails. Aren’t there people who chant “lock her up?” for something like that? Anywhoha… …this isn’t political. I was just thinking about what might happen if my text messages suddenly became available for all to read. Wouldn’t be pretty! I have a few buddies who I keep a running conversation going all day long. Those can be a tad crazy. We make fun of each other for high school loves and crazy nights of mad parties. We’ve seen each other in all sorts of degrees of intoxication from a long time ago. The two guys in that thread have wicked memories, and they are not afraid to embellish. Then I have another buddy who also keeps a regular thread going. He knows my immediate thoughts on current events. We also trade stories of gossip about all kinds of people we’ve known. Nothing malicious, mind you, just staying on top of thin

I’m not sure who needs to hear this, but people should be held to account for January 6, 2021. People died. Security was attacked, beaten and mentally destroyed. They breached the Capital and the information flooding in certainly seems to be pointing to the fact that it was organized by people inside the government. People who are still there! I don’t understand why more people aren’t outraged. You stand for the flag and lambaste those who take a knee and you don’t care that what that flag stands for was obliterated? “That happened almost a year ago,” one guy told me. “It was wrong but the Dems should let it go.” Are you freaking kidding me????? Does that go for all crime now? “Sir, we discovered your wife’s body buried in the desert. We are arresting you for murder.” “But I did that last year! Let’s just let it go.” Watergate was a minor scandal compared to this. We all watched it on television! They met with the organizers of the insurrection in the days leading up to it! Showed them

Paris is acting weird. My poor dog, who is 12 years old now, is showing some signs of not being all there. Suddenly. She walks from room to room, knocking things down. Garbage cans, my suitcase, lamps. She’s also been staring off into space and has a weird habit of eating the cat food out of Miller’s bowl in the middle of the night. Which isn’t good because Miller’s dish is in my room and when his dish is empty…he goes off! Of course, the wife can’t move and needs me to help out. Then there’s the puppy. Oliver is a freaking maniac. He zoomed so bad last night that I thought he was broken, I have cuts and scratches all over my arms. Was having lunch with a buddy. “How’s it going?” He asked, as he sat down. “My dog is senile, my wife is broken, the cat has anger management issues and the puppy is an asshole. The kids don’t care and work is busy, which is difficult because I can’t get 7 straight hours of sleep.” He just stared at me. “Some solid life choice got you there,” he said. We lau

Sam had a huge agenda for Sunday. Villanova, the Bills and a new episode of Dexter. “I need at least one win, and I know Dexter will be great.” Then I asked Kathy what pasta I was doing and she said:  (Get this!) “It’s a 4:30 game, why don’t we do something different? You can do appetizer junk food.” Huh. No pasta on a Sunday? Well, to be fair, I had it on Wednesday and again on Saturday for lunch (My buddy Big Al and his beautiful wife Jen set us up with dinner on Saturday!) So, I got to planning it out. Pizza of some sort, chicken wings, chicken wing dip, sliders, Buffalo chicken logs. Why not? And then the boys, one-by-one said that they were watching the game elsewhere! As for the games? Sam took a loss on the ‘Nova game, and the Bills started horrifically. I’m a Tom Brady fan so the kids weren’t texting or talking to me… …until the Bills started coming back. And to be fair, I thought it was an exciting, well-played game and Josh Allen played his heart out… …but when Brady’s team w

The tornadoes in Kentucky were on the ground for 200 miles. It was 68 degrees here in Buffalo and the wind started gusting in the early afternoon. Blew shutters off the house. I brought anything not bolted down into the house and laid the basketball hoop down. We dodged the loss of power and the loss of the internet through most of the day. Thankfully, another great friend dropped off dinner for us so I had a lot of downtime on Saturday. We joked a bit about the weather and how climate change might actually take us all out. “I’m going out for the Bonnies game,” Jake said. He got into his car and then ten minutes later he was back. “Yeah. What’s for dinner? I ain’t driving in that. Car was blowing all over the road.” And once everyone was in the house and accounted for I didn’t really care how hard the wind was blowing. But you definitely do hear people preaching about doomsday scenarios due to climate change and when tornadoes and hurricanes and fires are all once in a century type eve

The hands-down saddest thing about getting older is that we lose track of people as we move along. And then, because we are reaching that fragile age, we start to hear about people passing on. Woke to sad news yesterday as a friend from decades ago passed away. I immediately thought of a day from nearly 40 years ago. Just a day gone by when laughs were shared around a kitchen table with her family. We were all just kids! And I didn’t lose complete touch with her, but obviously, time and life get in the way. We all go separate ways. And I’m being particularly vague here, but it’s all about loss and then remembering. The moments aren’t lost in a friendship. Ever. They live on. I heard it said that we die twice. Once when we pass from this Earth and again when the last person who loved us also passes. I might argue that we last even longer than that. The joy we put out.  The love we share.  The happiness we bring to others all the days of our lives… …spins around and around for ever. We a

The Police’s ‘Wrapped Around Your Finger’ came on and I was immediately back in the college townhouse watching Sting run through the room filled with candles. It’s one of those songs that puts me in a good frame of mind. Like Robert Plant’s “I’m in the Mood.” Another cool song that has a sort of hypnotic effect. How about Paul Davis with “I Go Crazy”? Or the Atlanta Rhythm Section with “So Into You.” I think about the girl I liked back then. Sometime I say her name. There are a couple of Howard Jones songs that I love because I was on a flight to California and they played on a loop. Others? .38 Special - Hold on Loosely Alan Parsons - Eye In the Sky Madonna - Borderline A few Bread songs, a couple of Ambrosia and even a few Air Supply songs. Then there is Tracy Chapman… …she has a dozen. Guilty pleasure songs! Oh yeah, Gordon Lightfoot, and Boz Skaggs! What? You thought it was all Bruce all the time?

Let a driver in on the thruway yesterday. He was in a tight spot and while I didn’t want to do it, I let him go. Ought to be easy to lift his hand to wave. He didn’t. Saw another photo of another Republican congressperson with everyone around the tree holding a gun. Four kids were shot to death two weeks ago. Ought to be easy to feel some compassion. It isn’t. Watched a movie where a down on his luck man, suffered mightily as he tried to get his life together. The next day I listened to a lecture from a guy on a job saying that homeless people should be rounded up and shot. Ought to be easy to think of the least of our brothers. Millions don’t. Heard another story of another acquaintance suffering in the hospital on a ventilator. Covid might take him out. He didn’t want the shot because God would take care of him. Ought to be easy to understand science but it’s not. Because the world is feeding people bad info. So, yesterday ended with me fairly exasperated by how hard the day had gone

This was supposed to be the year when the Bills finally got it done. They were beat in the AFC Championship game last year, and Tommy won another one, but they were ready! They looked horrible in the opener, but then ripped off four straight. They were back on track! Have gone 3 & 4 since then and are sitting at 7-5. Worse than that they’ve played some real stinkers, including losing at home. Where my sons (and my nephew) have been thoroughly disgusted by the effort. On Monday night the wind was blowing, the rain was falling, and the Bills put 9 in the box to stop the run and New England ran it down their throats. “Are you going to renew your tickets next year?” I asked Sam. “Absolutely! You gotta’ BILLIEVE!” I laughed. “Doesn’t it make you mad when they lose?” Sam asked. “I’ve been waiting for them to win since 1969,” I said. “I’m no longer emotionally attached.” “That’s sad,” Sam said, “I’ll never give up.” “Think about this…the year is 2056. The Bills have still never won one. Y

There was no contest about the worst thing about becoming a father. Not sleeping through the damn night! There were a couple of nights back then when I stood in the center of my kitchen… …just howling at the moon! This past week has reminded me of all that. The problem, you ask? 1). Miller I have a cat who loves me. He is also very aware of time and starts nagging at me to get out of bed by 06:00 - no matter what day it is. He also gets lonely for time with me. I’ve been a tad busy being around for Kathy so Millsie has felt neglected. He firmly believes that waking me up in the middle of the night is also perfect for some quality time. 2). Johnny is here I love my son. I love my nephew. Together they are an absolute handful.  “Let’s not turn this into a six a.m. night,” I said. They woke me at 2. Again after 4. I not-so-calmly reminded them that I had enough! 3). The Patient We’ve been married long enough to know one another’s sleep habits.  I’m a light sleeper and much like when the k

Birthdays of siblings are the best because no matter the age we can all recall each other’s birthdays all the way back. My older sister loves her birthday! And we all love helping her celebrate. I gifted her the Billy Crystal autobiography because she still laughs hysterically at one scene between him and Gregory Hines where they were on a stakeout and Billy Crystal’s character made a fake phone call. My brother-in-law Chucky can do a perfect impression of the scene. There was also a shared moment with Corinne and Carrie where Corinne sang along with Mariah Carey. A high note. I can’t ever hear Mariah Carey and not think about laughing at her. But on her birthday, there is a moment that makes my Hall of Fame of all Corinne moments It was a random night out at a Chinese buffet and after we ate, as we all walked to the car, Corinne and all three of my sons broke into a song and dance. At first I was annoyed because I wanted to get home, but through the windshield I watched them all laugh

The most vile thing I read about the school shooting in Oxford, Michigan was the LOL following the mother’s text to the shooter about “not getting caught.” Her 15-year-old son was in trouble at school because he was looking up ammunition on his phone. There were also disturbing drawings of murdered children in his notebook. The school notified those parents of the troubling behavior and his mother adds an “LOL”? Beyond disturbing. Forget that they bought him the gun.  They, after being alerted of his bizarre behavior, insisted that he be returned to the classroom. I’ve spent a lot of the last 3 days haunted by thoughts of what my life would’ve turned into and one of my children been shot in a classroom. Incomprehensible. Four children died that day. How do those parents react to that “LOL?” How do they not lose it when thinking about the fact that the school’s precautions ALMOST worked? And just when I thought I couldn’t be any more disgusted a Republican congressman posted a photo of

Kathy has a brand new hip. Man, it’s going to be a long rehab for me. The best part of all was that we were able to rejoice as she was finally discharged. There isn’t a whole lot of hustle involved with some of the tasks, and I truly feel bad as the hospitals are full, the hours are long, and sick people can be mean. Kathy spent years as a nurse so I thought she would be a little more patient as a patient. It doesn’t always work that way, I suppose when there is pain involved, but talk about pain tolerance! Kathy went 9 days without putting her foot on the floor, and she kept insisting that it was either a muscle pull or a pinched nerve. I finally insisted that she go to the ER. An x-Ray shed light on the problem, and then the fun began. Surgery was delayed for a little while. Then it started and they explained that it would take a couple of hours. Give or take a few. “She’s in recovery and you can head up there in a half an hour.” I got there and two security guards showed up. “You ha

The hospital is a funky place to be now. There’s a temperature check at the entrance with a camera that shows ME as I stand there. Why didn’t someone tell me that I’m gray and balding. “Take a step back,” the camera told me. I did. “Step back,” it read again. There was a big circle there where I assumed my forehead was supposed to be. “Step forward.” Bah! I took another step and a guy there with a mask hit my head with a temperature gauge. “Good to go.” I stepped up in line and a large black man stepped to the counter. “I’m here for my sister,” he said. Then his voice betrayed him. “She died this morning. Where do I go to see someone who died?” I felt his anguish. He took an unsteady step and then a swarm of people headed toward him. “Uncle John,” one of the younger looker members of the crew called out, and the heartbroken man stepped into about twelve arms as they reached for him. Their cries sent my heart straight to my throat. And I’m not sure why their loved one died so suddenly.

There’s no way that the Mets spending spree would’ve gone unanswered. I listened to Max Scherzer’s press conference as he spoke about the Mets having a spring training home near where his kids would be as a major reason why he decided to go there. The $43 million a year had zip to do with it, right? And it’s weird to see a team like the Rangers spend $561 million in one day… …as the Yankees sit there… …without a shortstop or first baseman. Thirty years ago, the Yankees would’ve dominated this past week. My brother used to call me and ask what I wanted Uncle George to buy me for Christmas. There was always something under the tree! And of course, the Yankees will have a shortstop and a first baseman when the season starts. (It’s all up in the air though, as right now, the owners are trying to tell us that there’s no money in the game and the players are pretending they’re underpaid. A work stoppage could be deadly!) The thing is, the Yankees won from ‘96 through ‘00 without having to ‘b

Lennon said that “Life is what happens when you’re making other plans.” I am way too structured, and certainly struggle when life throws a curveball. Kathy is having a bit of a medical issue.  There will be a surgery and a bit of a rehab for sure, but we are of the opinion that she’ll feel better in the long run. Thing is, I don’t know how to react when my plans have to suddenly change. “What should I do?” I asked as Tuesday approached. “Go to work,” she answered. “That’s usually the right answer, right?” And she wasn’t being snarky in the least. She just knows I work better when I work. So, off I went and it was a pretty routine day with the nagging question of what should I do next hanging over the top. Do I cancel things? “What time are things happening?” I asked. “Who knows? We’ll let you know.” I feel like asking if they can give me a little lead time. And of course, I must annoy those around me because I annoy the hell out of myself. I can get something stuck in my head, for sure

I had the great misfortune of having to spend an afternoon and most of the evening and into the night and damn near into the next day embroiled in a healthcare situation. What a mess we’re in. It starts with the primary doctor who is essentially useless. I don’t even bother to go there for my own health care needs because they do nothing for me. Ever. I had one episode where the nurse practitioner started it all by asking me what “Do you think it might be?” “How the hell do I know? I’m a safety guy and a writer. I feel like crap. You tell me.” She looked as if I slapped her. The primary doctors are also scared of their own shadows. “The insurance company may deny the x-Ray.” “We don’t like to prescribe anything stronger than Ibuprofen. You can may be able to get something over the counter that might help.” I pay a co-pay for that? And of course, prices are ridiculous. If they give you a saline drip it’ll run about a grand. It’s salt water! Back to the latest visit. The receptionist was

Read a story about a Texas man who took his 11-year-old daughter hunting with him. He shot and killed her. Mistook her for a deer. There was also a story about a man who brought a gun to a kid’s birthday party. It went off and a 10-year-old was shot. There were no charges filed. Every city, every weekend, death. We caught the 48 Hours on the Aubery case. Those 3 men (who were rightly convicted) truly believed that they had every right to hunt and kill that kid. For snooping around a construction site? I have come to accept the fact that there is a large population of people who think much differently than me. Especially regarding the need to bring a gun with them everywhere they go. The fact that the kid killed two people at a protest, and got cleared of all charges was incredibly disconcerting to me. Vigilantism won’t work. There are too many people who are one thought away from immersing themselves into a real life game of ‘Call of Duty’. Rittenhouse fancied himself a cop and a medic

I’m a man who fights an internal battle each and every day. I have one question that needs to be constantly answered: “Is everything all right?” It’s a question I ask myself in the morning and at night before I go to bed. The thing about life is that most days not EVERYTHING is all right. There are usually some loose threads. When the kids were young that question got obliterated every day. I went to bed exhausted and oh, the clutter! Taught me to be patient. For a little while there. Anyway, I found all sorts of ways to entertain the kids and if something interested them I strongly encouraged it. I got a whole lot of mileage out of Godzilla, King Kong and Alien versus Predator. I made a sort of tactical error when I grabbed the Schwarzenegger Alien movies, though.  I had never seen those particular flicks.  Had no idea that there was strong language throughout. Cut to Sam’s first day of kindergarten at Sacred Heart.  We waited for the bus at the foot of the driveway. Kathy had the cam

I was in the 7th grade. I remember that specifically because I had a Pittsburgh Steelers shirt that year. Here’s how the story goes: “Cliff! Let’s go! School!!” It was Dad shaking me awake, which wasn’t unusual. He got us up in shifts so that the bathrooms weren’t always occupied.  It was my turn to be first out of bed. I was foggy, but all my life, my first inclination is to get showered. I’m the same way to this day. I got showered, and headed downstairs. Everything was pretty quiet in other areas of the house, but the kitchen light was on and Dad was at the table. I was wearing that Steelers shirt. (I wasn’t a fan of the team…I sort of liked the colors). That got Dad talking about football…something he knew little about…so it was all a tad strange. 1976. The Bills had Ferguson and Orenthal. I had a bowl of Honeycomb, but I kept drifting back towards sleep. Also strange. “What’s wrong with you?” Dad finally asked. “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m beat.” My wonderful Dad started laughing.

I have to tell this story. In December of 1992, the owner of the company I worked for called me to his office to ask me why I had scheduled vacation days for 12/24, 12/26 & 12/27, “For Christmas,” I said. “Christmas is canceled,” he responded. “You’re going to Sioux City, Iowa on the 18th. We’ll try to get you back for New Year’s Eve.” I kept saying that I wasn’t going, but there I was on the 18th, on a plane, settled between Pete & Mike - two seasoned iron workers who drank beer as if it were iced tea. On the 20th we worked all day, right up to an hour before the Bills-Saints game was set to start. The plan was to grab a couple cases of beer and 3 large pizzas. We also picked up a truck driver, Dan, who had made the cross country trip in a tractor-trailer. Dan had parked the truck and gone straight to a strip-joint where he proceeded to drink a dozen beers while we finished up our work. We grabbed Dan (who was plastered) at the strip joint and had a few beers and then went to

  Thanksgiving is all well and good, but today we also celebrate the birth of a legend! My Mommy! Our Mommy! She’s the biggest dog lover of all of us. She may be the only person I know who has read more books than me. She spent so many Thanksgivings making the perfect dressing. I tell my kids about how tirelessly she worked. The Fazzolari work ethic? Dad never missed a day of work out on the sites. Mom seriously outworked him, and the rest of us inside the home. My clothes would hit the hamper, and the next day they’d be back, folded, clean in my dresser drawer. And man, Covid has hurt Mom. We’ve all been afraid to get her sick. We are visiting and calling and Corinne is an absolute 😇 - but when I think of the cost of this damn pandemic I will consider how it turned living into isolation for Mom and for my wife. But today, I will celebrate all the love I feel in my heart for my Mom…Dad, and my mother in law and father in law and my siblings and siblings in laws  Friends too… Thankful

I’ve always enjoyed Billy Crystal, in movies, on television and for being a longtime Yankees fan. About a month ago I saw a copy of his autobiography in a bargain bin for a dollar. Of course I bought it and I’ve always enjoyed autobiographical stories because you truly feel as if you know the author and it’s kind of a walk through time as you think about their careers. He was Jody on Soap, Harry in ‘When Harry Met Sally’, DeNiro’s therapist and he worked closely with Robin Williams. Let’s not forget, ‘Throw Momma from the Train’ with DeVito. And a good Dad too. What’s funny about the autobiography of the big stars is that they all seem to gloss over the getting famous part. It’s always like it just sort of naturally happened. Good for them, I guess. But there’s always hard work and sacrifice involved as well. He did the comedy show routine and spent time away when his family is young. There is one drawback to reading autobiographies though. I’m always hesitant to read a book by a celeb

I’ve always envied my brother’s birthday. He was born on a historical day. 11/22/63 The day one John left the world and another John made a grand entrance. And Mom always told the story perfectly. She woke to a crying nurse just a few hours after giving birth. “Why are you crying?” Mom asked. “He’s dead,” the clueless nurse said. “Who’s dead?” “The president!” The nurse said between sobs. “Get the hell out of here!” Mom yelled. “I thought you were crying for my son, you stupid son of a bitch!” And Dad was not to be out done. They asked if he was named ‘John’ in honor of JFK. “John is my name,” he said. “We had picked out Oswald, but the shooting changed our minds.” And John certainly has been a great big brother from day one. I came along 11 months later and the stories go that he used to climb into my crib, take my bottle, and go back to his crib to finish it. They had to put a cage over his. Happy Birthday!🎁  We love you!

 Mellencamp has a line in one of his old tunes that I think about a lot: “Sometimes life is just too ridiculous to live.” A downer of a line coming from the same guy who wrote: “Life goes on, long after the thrill of living is gone.” I’m as steady as they come, I suppose. I keep my feet churning forward, so when a week like this week where Kathy has struggled, where she had a tooth broke and where her pain levels are high… …I’m there. “Thank you,” she said late yesterday. “Yeah.” Sam and Jake always need help too… …push forward. Dad is here. Steady, The backstop who catches all errant throws home. It’s in the job description when they first place the child in your hands in the hospital maternity ward. Worst part about parenting, though, is watching them walk into the walls that life puts up in front of you. Ridiculous. “Hang in there, buddy, we’ll figure it out,” I texted to Jake during the week .. …he’s all good… …was just bemoaning the craziness. Then, this morning, Matt sent around

I knew the tweet was coming. I could’ve predicted the sender and the wording: “Not guilty on all counts!” The trial appeared to be going that way, I suppose, and I can’t even comment on it because I didn’t watch it. Couldn’t watch it. Didn’t and don’t want to read about it. I don’t even want to write that kids name anywhere. Two people dead. That wouldn’t have happened had he not left home armed and looking for a gun fight. Had that kid stayed home that night those people would still be breathing. Self-defense? I’ve had a number of scenarios run through my mind.  What if he had been a black 17-year old? I think he would’ve been found dead at the scene. What might happen if two protesters show up at a rally for a twice impeached new candidate, armed with AR-15’s? Can they now shoot anyone they want? Vigilante justice can’t be the law of the land.  Was his presence really required that night? He wasn’t a medic. Wasn’t a cop. Wasn’t even his home. He was just someone entering an unstable

There are a lot of gut rehab projects around Buffalo. Huge buildings that used to be home for thriving businesses are sitting empty, waiting to be re-worked, or torn down. I don’t know why, but it always depresses me! It also interests me immensely as I often wander around, looking for signs of life. It’s almost as though I’m one of those characters in an Armageddon movie who picks through the debris left by all those who have perished. (Well, that’s depressing). Yesterday I spotted a plaque for ‘Employee of the Month’ which was awarded to someone named Phyllis Harris, back in 1991. I was obviously in Phyllis’ office as I spotted a bill with her name on it from National Fuel. Phyllis didn’t leave much behind, but she didn’t take the tiny plaque with her name engraved on it. I wondered if it once meant something to her.  Did they give her a $20 gift card to JC Penny? Did she go home and announce it to her family? Where is she now? I’m thinking Phyllis was an administrative assistant of

I have a friend who has been in the hospital for more than a month now. He spent two weeks on a ventilator, and there were a lot of questions about whether he would live or die. A few days after coming off the vent he said, “Man. Crazy shit.” I’m glad he’s still with us, and I look forward to seeing him soon. I was actually on my way to visit him, but he wasn’t comfortable seeing his friends. “I don’t want people to see me like this,” he said.  Sad stuff. Last month I visited the work bench of a man who passed away due to Covid. He was just 52 years old. His family is a mess. So, I didn’t hesitate to get vaccinated back in April. I have even less hesitation in getting the booster shot tonight. I realize that there are zero guarantees. I may still come down with it, but I do believe that being vaccinated may save my life. The man who survived, but had been on the vent for a couple of weeks was indeed vaccinated. He is also in his mid-70’s and has underlying conditions. His vaccination d

I’ve always been a good dreamer, and I enjoy it when I remember them and they make some sense. I particularly enjoy dreaming about people from my past, and especially those who have left us. Those visits usually make me smile the next morning. Every now and again, I will have a wild one, and I wake up wondering what the hell it means. Years ago, I bought my Grandma’s house in the city of Buffalo. We lived in that home for a few years before moving to a bigger home with the kids. Last night, in my dreams, I was back in Grandma’s home, looking out the window on a summer day. The television was on and I was watching a black and white movie when I heard an argument outside. I looked straight into the eyes of a white man who was brandishing a gun as he chased a Hispanic man. The white man took two shots, dropping the Hispanic man in the street before turning the gun in my direction. He shouted, “You’re next!” And I woke up.  A cold chill raced up and down my spine, but he hadn’t gotten the

Stray thought time. Grandma Fuzzy was an amazing cook. The best part about it though was that she was a creature of habit too! She baked fresh bread every day, and there was always pasta! Sometimes pasta was the bases of the daily lunch. Other times there was meat involved. Pork chops or steak or chicken… …but there was a pasta featured as a side. As the grandkids we had an open invitation, of course, but we had to show up early enough to give her a chance to make enough. She was tremendous at putting tomatoes in a pan and whipping up a marinara. (I’m drooling). Grandma wasn’t the reason for this blog though. It was another guy’s grandma! She was Italian-American as well. One fine day, about 40 years ago, my buddy said, “Let’s go to MY grandma’s for lunch.” We walked in and the aroma of garlic and onions and olive oil smacked me in the face. “Sit! Sit! Sit!” She said, and she slapped a huge bowl of pasta and beans in front of me. There were huge hunks of pork too. What I remember most

Our cleaning lady was here early on Sunday morning, and by the time the Bills started we were sitting in a truly cleaned up house. Even Sam’s room and Oliver’s little alcove were cleared of debris. All the laundry is done and put away, and on Sunday night we appeared ready for the week ahead. I checked the weather and it’s a mixed bag with temperatures ranging from the 30’s to the 60’s with all sorts of precipitation. Ice, sleet, snow, rain. I preach a lot about routines around these parts, and the Camp appears to be closed for the season, but for a few minutes on Sunday, as the Bills pummeled the Jets it seemed as though we were cleared for take-off. The thing about life, though, is that you can prepare all you want, and turmoil will soon follow. I’ve kept an eye on the January 6th news and it certainly is stomach-churning. It appears as if there was a conspiracy in real time in that administration, and I certainly think it is being undersold, There was an attempt to thwart an electio

The puppy had no idea what the hell was going on. In years past I’ve enjoyed the first snowfall of the year. Those days are long gone now. “Oh God!” I yelled as Kathy drove to breakfast right through a winter wonderland. (There was good news - there were potato pancakes on the menu and I devoured them, but saved one for Mom). “It is the middle of November and we do live in Buffalo,” Kathy mentioned. “Still sucks.” I was thinking about the iced windshields, and the cold mornings, and my ice cold feet, and sore joints. All garbage. “I’m thinking it’s going to be in the 50’s next week,” Kathy said, in an effort to talk me off the ledge. But it’s coming. When I first saw the snow I instantly thought about February which is 28 days of pure hell. (Other than watching Brady dance in the confetti). There will be a search for the hoodie to wear under the high-visibility coat. I don’t take that hoodie search lightly because once I put it on I’ll wear it for 4 months straight. I’ll also be search

It appears that the big blotchy guy, Steve Bannon, will face consequences by ignoring a Congressional subpoena. Whole bunch of others are also facing a decision of whether to show up or not. Mark Meadows skipped his date too so he may also be charged. Crazy. It got me thinking of a court case that I had once. If you’ve ever been in court you know that you need to tow the line, right? I didn’t once. I drove into a police roadblock in my hometown and I knew the cop, of course. It was his first week on the job. “Fuzz, your registration is overdue.” “I have it,” I said. “I just didn’t put the sticker on the windshield.” I handed it over and my friend the cop looked nervous. “Man, I have to give you a ticket. My boss is watching. I’ll write on the bottom that you had it and the judge will toss it.” “Whatever you need to do.” Two weeks later I ended up in a packed courtroom thinking that I would be in and out quickly enough to make it to my softball game. The judge entered and pointed at me:

I heard a snippet of a few Christmas songs on a commercial and man… …it ruined my day! The one that got stuck in my head was the abysmal Bing Crosby one. Horrible! I just kept singing it over and over in my head and on a day that was about sixty degrees… …well, let’s just say I was a tad annoyed. Of course, I enjoy a version of ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ that is performed by a certain singer from New Jersey and the E-Street Band… …but chestnuts roasting on an open fire? Boo! Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer?? Bah! I’m dreaming of a white Christmas??? I’m hoping it’s 60 from now until April when we start hitting the 70’s… …and that dope singing it is dreaming of snow? I can listen to the Billy Squier one and the George Michae one and of course Dominick the Donkey… …but only once apiece with those. There are radio stations that are playing straight Christmas tunes for another six weeks! I heard five lines from one song, and couldn’t shake it. Going to be a long holiday season.

I saw the video of the crying that Rittenhouse did on the stand. I also saw footage of him in a bar, laughing and wearing a shirt about being free. I read all the comments about how he should be found not guilty because he was acting in self-defense or to stop property from being damaged. I wondered how those comments would read if Rittenhouse were black. Extremely differently, I believe. His mother loaded him, as a 17-year-old, with a gun, into a car and drove him into a protest zone. He shot and killed two people and wounded another. They weren’t shooting at him. He didn’t have a badge. And it makes me pretty sick that the judge is behaving as though the kid is a hero worthy of praise. The crying jag that he went on was fairly embarrassing. I’ve never seen anyone cry like that. Perhaps that’s how he cries, but it seemed to be well-rehearsed. I imagine that whether he’s innocent or guilty is split along the wonderful party lines that have been drawn, but anyone actually rooting for so

We were having pork chops for dinner. We were also celebrating a little too because my sister Corinne had received her driver’s license, that very day, in the mail. Problem being, we were a box short of Shake & Bake. A perfect storm. I popped out into the kitchen to see when the chops would be done. “Where’s Corinne?” I asked. “She went to the store,” My Dad said. And the lights went out. Literally! “What the hell?” Dad said, “the power is off.” “Maybe Corinne hit a pole,” I said. Dad turned to me as if I slapped him. I remember that Uncle Frank was there.  Then I don’t remember much, other than being scared out of my mind. My big sister, with my little sister, Carrie riding shotgun, had indeed hit a telephone pole, on her first trip out as a licensed driver, on Halley Road. 42 years later, I look at the pole that took the place of the pole that she hit… …every single time I drive down that road! And details are sketchy. Supertramp may have been on doing ‘Take the Long Way Home.’ T

Daylight savings time kicked in on Saturday. Miller didn’t get the memo. We have a cat who has two litter boxes and an upstairs bowl of food (in my room) and a downstairs bowl of food (in Sam’s room). Miller freaks the freak out if either of the litter boxes needs cleaning or, if God help me, he runs low on food in either bowl. I didn’t check the food before going to bed on Saturday night. Miller ran out around 4:30. By 5:00, I was out of bed filling it up. It feels better not having to drive to work in the pitch dark. I like that. However, it gets dark by 4:45 p.m. By 9:00 on Sunday night it felt like it was 2 a.m. Let’s be done with this. The farmers don’t need the daylight anymore. In March or whenever the hell we are supposed to spring ahead let’s just do a half an hour… …and then never do it again. Does anybody really know what time it is? Does anybody really care, about time? Miller doesn’t.

The Bills game against the Jags wasn’t the most highly anticipated game of the year. After all, the Jags were widely considered as the worst team in the league. But Jake & Sam were here and pasta was on. I enjoy watching the game with the boys as the banter is easy when the Bills are rolling. There was little banter. “The line is getting pushed around,” I said, on the first drive. “I got a bad feeling.” The boys laughed.  I say that every game. But the first half was ugly. Two field goals for each team. “The o-Line is bad,” Sam said. “And now Josh will try to do too much. He’s going to try to win it on his own.” The boys laughed again. “They’re still going to cover the spread,” Sam said, confidently. Josh Allen of the Bills turned the ball over 3 times. Josh Allen of the Jags was everywhere. Only one field goal in the second half and the Bills didn’t kick it. Yet, there was faith in them right up until the very end. Then Sam summed it all up: “That sucked.” And tomorrow will be a l

We had a visit from the Baltimore crew and the purpose was not only a visit with some of our cousins… …we made sausage! And of course, we have chronicled the sausage making process through the years, but I did a fair amount of looking around as the sausage was being made. Everyone has a task. I was a little late so I got to wash the casings. Not the prime job. Jim was on the machine, Larry led the weighing and bagging and his boy, Jeff, got stuck at the sink washing everything. There were others involved, of course, and the chatter was light as pound after pound after pound was stuffed, bagged and put away. There were absent others there as well. I thought of my brother Jeff working the machine, and my Dad mixing it and having the ash from his cigarette fall into the bowl. Uncle Jim washed the casings when he was there. Then, the moment we were all waiting for, as a huge frying pan was set on the front burner and filled with sausage. Jim fried it up as the hot peppers turned in the mic

Someone sent me a Tik-Tok video of some woman explaining why getting vaccinated was a bad idea.  I didn’t watch it. Instead I responded with questions and answers from the Johns Hopkins and Mayo Clinic web pages that provided detailed answers to frequently asked questions. The person didn’t respond. People believe what they want to believe when it makes no sense at all. Aaron Rodgers has Covid. He also misrepresented his cooperation with the NFL’s policies. He consulted Dr. Joe Rogan and has been taking medicine designed for horses because he doesn’t trust the vaccine and it’s his body and blah, blah, blah. And why do I care? Because it’s front and center. He’s missing the next couple of games. He puts the I in team, I guess. It is his business, I guess, but he’s better off staying quiet about it because his rambling, sometimes nonsensical reasonings left no doubt that his “research” is lacking. A friend of mine also reasoned much the same way. He actually screamed: “I did my research