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Now It’s a 350-Foot Cut

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It’s truly incredible. The lie is tested out. “It was vandalism.” The reporters don’t push back, but everyone kind of laughs about it, and mentions that it’s insane to even try to tell such a whopper. Step two is to work on the lie. “It was a knife. No wait. It was a box cutter because I told everyone that a knife couldn’t cut it.” 200 feet isn’t a large enough slit to make all the water turn green. So I’ll say it was 300’. Then I’ll mention we arrested people, and are investigating it. So, they try a new lie. “It’s sick. Vandals. They definitely loved Clinton and Obama. Sick, sick people. They jumped in and made a 350’ slit down the floor and started ripping up pieces. Then they ripped up the lawn. That was a fan of Comey, he’s a crooked cop. And Barrak HUSSEIN Obama, who is stupid. Sick, sick people.” The media tries a couple of questions, just for fun. “There is camera surveillance of the reflecting pond. Did they not see the vandals?” “It’ll come out during the investigation.” “We ...
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The Hospital

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We downplayed the surgery all week. “Everything will be good. You’ll feel better.” On the way into surgery Kathy reminded me, “I’m not done torturing you yet.” I brought a Michael Connelly book, and we arrived at 5:30 AM. Just a procedure. The time that she was in surgery was a lot longer than either of us expected and as I sat there, I heard the doctor break some very bad news to a family seated in the waiting room next door. Tears of disbelief. Heart-wrenching sadness… …and I was getting texts that said, “Still in OR.” The doc came out and gave me the news: “It went well, as expected. Give it some time, and a nurse will come get you.” Back to Connelly. Hiding in a fictional world, where I do all my best hiding. Was finally time to see the patient. Turns out, I wasn’t ready. I had flashbacks to seeing my Dad in the hospital bed when he had kidney surgery. And all the days of seeing my brother under the covers with tubes and machines. Now Kathy was there, and she was out. “Few more hou...
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Against My Beliefs

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Every year there is a ‘Rainbow’ pride night at a number of major league ballparks. Every year there are a couple of players on a couple of teams who sound off against going to the park that day. This season, three Giants pitchers wrote Bible verses on their hats to ward off the gays, I guess. Now, since MLB disciplined the pitchers for writing messages on their uniform, they’re complaining that their right to free speech has been compromised. Okay, let’s break it all down. 1). MLB wants all the fans they can get. Their sales pitch seems to be, ‘No matter what color you are; no matter what sex you are; no matter if you’re a man who loves a man, a man who loves a woman, or a woman who loves a woman, or a woman who loves a man…we’ll sell you a ticket!’ MLB does a ‘Mother’s Day’ event, honors black history month, raises money for prostate cancer research, and has a gay pride night. Being all-inclusive is good business. 2). MLB has rules regarding the uniform. A player is not allowed to wri...
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An Ode to Golf

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Golf is a beautiful sport. It’s played outside with perfectly manicured courses.  Every glance is a post card.  You can take a breath, and concentrate on the birds soaring through the air.  As we played on Saturday, a deer crossed the fairway on the 13th hole. Golf is a game of friendship.  There’s the moment when you meet at the clubhouse, the promise of a great round coming up. Catching up on the week of life that was just put in the rear view. Waiting for the guys behind you to finish up their conversation before standing over the ball, clearing your head, working on your mechanics. Golf is a game you play against yourself. Setting the ball on the tee, with the logo facing you. Just put the sweet spot of the club on the center of the ball. Best feeling in the world to see the ball in the blue sky, soaring, to the middle of the short grass. And you turn back to your buddies.  Everyone is saying something. There is usually a fist bump or two as, in a long-stand...
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Happy Birthday, Brother

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Happy Birthday to my brother, Jeff. It’s hard to believe that he left us more than 17 years ago. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’ve thought of him every day since, and I’m comforted by the fact that I don’t have enough information in regard to the grand plan. There are so many missed rounds of golf, and Yankees games, and dinners and laughs and laughs and laughs. On his birthday, as with other days, I think about those moments that so many of us were cheated out of. And the fact that 17 years has passed is mind-boggling to me. We have our memories, of course, and they’re enormous, but there are days when they aren’t enough. The new Stones record is three weeks away. He’d be fired up. Aaron Judge would be his favorite baseball player, and we’d probably argue about whether or not Anthony Volpe is a good enough player. But life is funny in a way because I definitely know how he feels on each subject… …I argue with his son, Johnny… …I sent over the new Stones songs as soon as I hear...
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Father’s Day

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I had a great Dad, and I was fortunate enough to work with him professionally. We both worked in an office setting in New Haven, Ct., and Dad was the big boss. I had the chance to watch him run meetings, and manage personalities. We laughed a lot, and I was proud of him as a manager, and was in awe of how he went about his work. Cut to Friday. I was hired to speak at Jake’s company. He was pretty nervous about all of it, and when the owner of the company walked up to the two of us and said: “Are we good? We have a lot of people here.” I just laughed. I did the two hour talk, and at one point, I caught Jake in the audience, laughing and shaking his head. Made me think of how I felt watching my Dad do his thing. And I was doing that talk for more than just the company who was paying me. I wanted Jake to know that he can stand up and be confident, and that he should do a better job than anyone was expecting him to. He’d been beside me before they handed me the microphone so he knew I was ...
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A Meanness

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We watched 20/20 last night about a young woman who was abducted from her home while she was watching her two infant children. Kathy knew the story because I’m fairly certain that she’s seen every murder ever committed. I knew nothing about it, and as the story was told, I kept hoping that it was simply a story about a kidnapping that had a happy ending. It wasn’t, and it was simply horrific. First off, why do we watch such a thing as entertainment? There are a lot of true crime shows. They are highly rated shows. Secondly, I thought about the man who committed the crime. He was an unemployed plumber. He was a guy who’d lost his job, and his wife. He was also a father, of a 11-year old boy. He simply broke in, took the woman, and killed her. “How can a man do that?” Kathy asked. “Sir, there’s just a meanness in this world,” I said, quoting Charles Starkweather in the 50’s and mowed down anyone in his way during an infamous killing rampage. The young mom was in the wrong place when the ...
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