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Showing posts from August, 2008

Let's Switch it Up

I was reminded today of a story that has always fascinated me. Back in 1973, two pitchers with my beloved New York Yankees made an interesting trade. Hurlers Fritz Peterson and Mike Kekich swapped wives, and children. You heard me right- a straight-up-deal, for real, way before that stupid wife swapping show. The two men not only traded wives and children, but their houses and pets too. The GM of the Yankees at the time said - "We may have to cancel Family Day." The reason why the story is so fascinating to me is because of the motivations behind it. It was 1973 so I'm sure we're talking about a different mindset, but how does the conversation begin? Peterson:"I really like your wife." Kekich: "I love your wife." Peterson: "And you have some great kids. God, I wish my kids were like your kids." Kekich: "Huh, you can have them." Peterson: "Really? How about the dog?" Kekich: "You know, Fritz, I have an idea."

Can't Get Enough

David Duchovney , the actor, confessed to being a sex addict. Once more, just too easy. First off, why did he have to declare such a thing? I'm thinking he got busted and is trying to hold the old family together. Word on the street is that he has a beautiful wife who was unwilling to kick it up five times a day. Five times a day!! Give me a break. I can't do anything five times a day. Unless you're mentally ill, why would you want to? Okay, so maybe it is an illness, but how is it cured? I'm imagining that the other people in the rehab group are all sex addicts too. Isn't that asking for trouble? Do the meetings end with everyone coupled in a corner - saying "Sorry, I slipped up again." Do they sit around swapping stories of how they fell off the wagon? "I was at the grocery store and the cashier bent over to get some new bags... and I'm sorry, I'm an addict." Do the therapists cure the patients by hanging up photos of say, Roseanne, or

Jesus the Moth

I don't make this stuff up - I swear. In a town called Pittsburgh, Texas a man found a moth who he swears looks like Jesus. The man, Kirk Harper, showed the moth to all of the news outlets, and I'll be damned, it does have a resemblance. There in the wings of the moth you can see the beard, the face, the striking pose. "People see Jesus in Cheetos , and in grilled cheese sandwiches, but this is special," Harper claimed. The news team went so far as to interview Brother James Jordan for the story - and Jesus the Moth is the talk of the town. Jordan said that he wouldn't bow down and praise the moth and cautioned against believing in a creation as opposed to believing in the creator. I'm trying to figure out what to make of it. In the back of my mind, as I watched the video footage, I thought that I probably would have squashed that moth without even giving it a second glance. I've always felt that people see the face of Mary in a potato chip because they n

Spinning Our Web

Every morning I get up, head for the car and trudge off to work. Lately I've been noticing a spider's web in the spot between my driver's side window and the side mirror. Each day, I smack the web away, wondering about the spider that spun it. I can almost imagine the spider settling in each night and thinking - "The son-of-a-bitch knocked my house down again." Well, the son-of-a-bitch got to wondering about the persistence of that spider - starting over each night and spinning the web to get into position. How long does that take, by the way? I mean I know Peter Parker can spin a web, any size to catch the thieves just like flies - but is it really that simple? Which brings me to my point - sometimes life seems to go by slowly - a guy on one of the jobs asked me if it was 3:30 yet. (It was about nine AM). "Don't wish away time," I said. " Geez , don't get all philosophical on me," he replied, "I just want to get home and have a

Crying

I went out walking the other day, seen a little girl crying along the way. I thought of those lyrics from Two Hearts by Bruce, when I saw a woman sitting at a traffic light, in the car behind mine, crying her eyes out as she talked on the cell phone. The wait on the light was, what, 90 seconds? The woman was a middle-aged lady who seemed completely lost. She shouldn't have even been driving. How do you cry, talk on the phone, and not drive your car into the back of my car? Of course, she was out of my life in a matter of moments, but I couldn't help but imagine what caused her public sadness. Death of a loved one? Cheating spouse? Forgot to shut off the oven? Can't find the turn signal? Just a crazy woman with a penchant for sadness? I once interviewed a Chaplin for one of my books. She told me a story about praying whenever she heard the hum of the Mercy Flight helicopter or the sound of an ambulance siren. There certainly are days when I don't consider the sadness a

A Fine Line

I caught the movie Mr. Brooks the other night - Kevin Costner was good in it - Demi Moore has aged well.... The movie was based on a man with split personalities and when it began I was sort of on the fence about the mental illness angle. The movie was actually quite well done and scared the hell out of me at the end - I swear - I had Bruce-bumps . Regardless, it got me thinking about the fine line between sanity and insanity. It also helped me to recognize some of the traits in myself and in those around me. To be honest, we are all teetering on an edge. For instance: 1). My son Sam has to close all the shades in the house so the robbers can't look in. 2). My boy Jake swings on emotions that carry him to the top of the mountain and drop him hard on the valley floor - and God help all of us if he doesn't have pizza on Wednesday night. 3). My son Matt has been convinced that he was dying from a hornet sting, and a cancerous lump on his neck. Neither proved true - but he was pre

Out of Focus

I sat down this evening to draft a blog and my wife, who requests that I write something every day, said: "Write a good one today." I guess that I've been lacking a bit - I didn't think it was going so bad. She also supposed that I had to be running out of things to say. Like I told her, that'll never happen. So, with no pressure on me whatsoever... My publisher requested photos of me for the promotion of House of Miracles . There is a big celebration of the people from the book to be held at the hospital on September 30 th - I need to put my face on a few press releases and it reminded me of Springsteen and his cover for Born in the USA - he said that he stood with his back to the camera because his ass looked better than his face. I can't even do that - my ass is too big. Yet it is often shocking to see myself in photos - I don't feel bald - but I'm told that I am. I don't feel old, but when I glance at the face staring back, I'm reminded t

Opinions, Opinions, Opinions

Spent a few days on the road and in the words of Bob Seger , got tired of the sound of my own voice... so I'll throw a few things out there for you: 1). Thank God the Americans won the gold back in basketball. It's our sport, we invented it and we play it best. That much is true, but in the end, I couldn't tell if I was happier for the alleged rapist, the alleged drug dealer, the alleged wife-beater, or the alleged armed marauder. They are all equal, I suppose - how can we not be proud? 2). Joe Biden is the choice for Obama - a lot of people guessed it might be Hilliary , but in the end anyone-but Hilliary was probably the sound choice. Bush-Clinton-Bush-Clinton would have been too much to take - how many families are there in this country? And we can only find candidates from two? 3). Why do they name hurricanes with such sweet sounding names? Think of it - Hurricane Fay is hitting land - they make it sound like Aunt Fay is bringing by a Bundt cake. Why don't we na

Pulling Pranks

Believe it or not, there's a lot of downtime at college. Despite the fact that parents everywhere believe their children are studying and working hard, there is plenty of time for beer, sports, and college pranks. In my circle of friends a good prank was just as important as an "A" on an exam. My freshman year the four guys who lived together were natural enemies with the quad directly above us - nothing was out of bounds - I flopped down on my bed one day to find that my mattress was gone - I found it in the bathroom stall stored upright next to the crapper. My roommates and I returned home one night to find our lights on the floor and all of our dresser drawers tipped over. We got our revenge. One guy we nicknamed tortoise for his turtle like qualities loved a beanbag chair that he had since he was seven or eight years old. We not only grabbed the chair, we cut it open, and allowed the little white dots to rain down on the ground outside his window. "Look tortoise

Back to School

This week my wife has certainly done all of the heavy lifting as she gets the boys ready to return to school. There have been teeth cleanings, doctor appointments, school clothes shopping, and permission slips that have had to be signed. I've done little to help, because as they are willing to tell me - they like her better anyway. Seriously, it's a lot of work and I'm sort of happy to be out of the loop on this one. Yet I always feel some sort of excitement around this time of year. I remember being in grade school waiting on the new lunch box. I remember being in high school wondering if I had the cool clothes that would finally attract all the beautiful girls. I should have realized back then that dressing well wasn't my finest attribute. Yet most of all I remember returning to college - or better yet - going to college the first time. I recall my mom and dad dropping me off to a school and a city where I knew absolutely no one - I remember thinking that it was time

Across the USA

Each and every day I read the state-by-state account of what is happening in this great land of ours. I do appreciate that there are millions of people living the right way, but there are just so many negative stories out there. This is from today's news: Alabama - a 41-year old man was arrested for stabbing his 59-year-old mother to death - they argued about the fact that he pawned her jewelry. Alaska - A former instructor for the Boys and Girls Club was convicted of having 50,000 pornographic images. He was fired from his job. Connecticut - A man was charged with running an identity-theft operation stealing mail from over 100 people. Florida - A man was charged with leaving his two grandchildren in a hot car while he gambled at a casino. Georgia - A school teacher - 24 year-old woman was arrested for having sex with a 14-year old boy. Illinois - A man doused his two sons with gasoline and started them on fire. Maine - A woman embezzled $87,000 from her church. Kentucky - A woman

I Kissed a Girl

A new song, sung by a twenty-three-year-old, attractive woman- Katie Perry - goes something like this - "I kissed a girl and I liked it." (I just sang it - good thing you weren't near). First off, it's impossible to get the lyric out of your head. Secondly, it conjures up images of two beautiful women, preferably around the age of 23 kissing at the bar while beer is flowing and people are sharing a good laugh. My wife and I often talk about the lesbian fantasy that men share without really saying anything aloud. Kathy, of course, believes that I'm mentally deranged, but I have trouble understanding how she sees it as anything less than erotic. Anyway, the singer of the song was on Howard Stern this morning. She explained that she had, in fact, kissed a girl, and liked it. She also explained that her parents - ministers by trade - were not exactly enamored with her lyrics. The discussion on Stern reached the highs expected. The singer was entertaining and basicall

Enough!

Slept like shit again last night and I woke up with a sense of purpose. Follow my thinking on this one. I'm growing weary of the obsessive behavior that has driven me my entire adult life - so there are changes on the horizon. 1). I ate a bowl of cereal this morning and not Crunch Berries either. That bullshit bran with two raisins hidden like prizes in it type of cereal. Then - I had a turkey sandwich for lunch - on freaking wheat bread. Don't know if I feel better yet - but I'm ready to gnaw off a limb. 2). I have declared that the wife and I are going to take a walk after dinner. This will help reduce the stress level - unless of course she brings the children along or talks about our future. It will also get me moving before the Yankee game (another stress provider right now - Damon drops two pop-ups last night - sick!). 3). I'm going to try to give up the Copenhagen - not sure I can pull this one off - but I did chew a few nicorettes today in an effort to curb my

Up Before the Dawn

This morning I struggled to sleep as I had a dream about a huge, fat guy who was breaking into our house and sorting through our stuff as my wife and I watched from the ground below. I woke up just before the cops reached our house to bust him, and as is prone to happen, I couldn't get back to sleep - so I simply got out of bed and began reading the news on the computer. I sorted through the Russia-Georgia conflict. How can a country just attack another country without due cause? Horrible. There were a couple of A-Rod sightings with new girlfriends - how come we can't spot him when there are runners on 2nd and 3rd with less than 2 outs? Jennifer Aniston is free again - having been cut loose by John Mayer. Think I have a shot? I'll stick with Kathy anyway - something must be wrong with Rachel - everyone lets her go after just a little while. There's a coming hurricane to Florida. Just saw a 48 hours on the continued trouble in New Orleans where the citizens are murderin

Torture

National news out of Buffalo again. ESPN is running a story about a high school baseball team where the hazing of JV Players reached criminal proportions. The story is both disturbing and sad, and if you have the stomach to read all of it - makes you long for some sort of justice. Check it all out at ESPN.com if you'd like. OJ played here. Tim McVeigh was born here. We shot a president here. The Bills lost four straight Super Bowls. We had Tim Russert and he died too young. Can't we get a break? Yet the high school story is nothing to sneeze at - it is a tragic story about adult supervision that was painfully lacking. There were coaches on the bus where two children were allegedly violated with items stuck in their rectum. Are you kidding me? What were the coaches doing? Watching the scenery fly by? Not to mention that there are rumors floating around that this was not an isolated incident - but more a rite of passage. Aren't there people in charge who are paid to monitor

All Clear!

I visited the Women & Children's Hospital of Buffalo today with Kathy and Jake. The visits are much more relaxed then they were in late 2001, but there is always a bit of hesitation and nausea as I reach the doors. For the past seven years we have been bringing Jake by to have a CT Scan to make sure that the tumor that was removed stayed completely gone. Well, we are all clear and Dr. Caty said the words that we'd longed to hear - "He doesn't need any future CT Scans. He's good to go." Jake has been good to go since we walked out of that hospital in November of 2001. We were all very fortunate - and not a single day goes by when I don't Thank God for that. Yet what was most remarkable about today was the human touch I felt. It was almost like there were huge hands wrapping us up and protecting us. We passed a nurse in the hall who had worked on Jake all those years ago. When I said hello, she stopped quick and I saw absolute fear in her eyes as I intr

Used to Be a Ballpark

I mowed my parents lawn yesterday. It's not a big deal - but a few acres of grass, ducking tree limbs, and catching the mower in a bit of mud - thanks Chuck for the push out. Yet the thing about it was that as I mowed, I thought about all of the other times that I cut the grass on the same terrain, and a funny thing happened - I saw the home where I grew up with my five brothers and sisters, in a whole new light. I thought about the mulberry tree where we would gather and try to break the record for the most mulberry's eaten in one handful. We were just kids, laughing with mulberry juice running down our faces. I thought about the area where the sewer used to be - what was once high grass where the mower always got stuck - is now perfectly landscaped with trees perfectly spaced. There's no longer that smell. In the backyard the old cars are gone - my father used to store old convertibles back there so he could recondition them in later years. He never actually worked on the

The Yankees - R.I.P.

Ever since Reggie hit those three home runs on my 13 th birthday I've felt that the Yankees win for me. This year, they are reveling in the love of kicking my ass when I'm down. For the first time since 1994, I'm writing their obituary with over a month left in the season, and since I've answered the question a million times in the last couple of weeks - I'll answer it with a post - I'm going to be all right! First off, despite the big money and the flair for the dramatic - it isn't the end of the world if they miss the playoffs. The World Series is an unbelievable goal each year and me and the boys can't expect that everything will always work out. It's difficult to temper expectations and one of life's best lessons is that sometimes your best moves don't pay. Not that it isn't difficult these days - through the years the excitement of the Yankees has been at the forefront of our every day lives in the summer. My brothers and I grew up

Man Versus Woman

We all know there is a real, true battle that is fought in this great nation on a daily basis. The idea for this blog came off of my post about Michael Phelps - a great college friend of mine responded saying that I should learn to relax and enjoy life a little - "Men get grouchy as they grow older," she wrote. I must confess that I do get grouchy - I know my friend's husband too - and I know why he gets grouchy. The thing is - I did respond - "Women are the carriers for grouchiness," I explained. "Men like to sit around and think about all of the golf they're missing, all the beer they've left undrank while they develop dish-pan hands, and fold the laundry." I thoroughly enjoy sparring with my wife, my sisters, my sisters-in-law, and my old college friends about the great differences between men and women. Here are the distinct differences as I see them. 1). Talking about our day. I get up, go to work, come home from work, and try to read th

See You Tomorrow

Sleep deprivation was the big drawback when the kids were young. I can remember walking around in a fog, wondering what the hell happened to the life I used to enjoy. I've slept much better through the years, but every once in awhile... I had a long road trip through New York State. I was actually 40 miles outside of Montreal before I turned around and headed towards home. This is actually quite a beautiful state, but I wasn't much in the mood to drive through the towns that are basically abandoned - a broken down home here, a car on blocks there, a gas station every thirty miles or so. I often wonder what the people in those faraway places do for entertainment, or even work, but that's a whole ' nother story. I returned home, put the Yankee game on, and popped a Tylenol PM when Mariano came into the game. Mariano is usually lights out, so it was real disconcerting to watch him blow the save. Of course , the game went into extra innings, I fought the control of the T

Miracles & Heroes

I'm sorry but I've never been a great fan of the Olympics. I'm not sure where my inattention comes from - perhaps the only Olympic event I've ever watched was the Hockey Team's go for gold in 1980. I believe that it is the hero worship we put on the athletes that absolutely turns me off. If you didn't know it, these days you'd think Michael Phelps cured cancer, and solved the deficit problem. I caught the end of one of his races and the announcer was giggling like a school girl about the accomplishment. Okay, fine - I get it - he's worked hard - and is astounding - but come on, he's swimming! The announcer was throwing around words like hero, brilliant, and miraculous. It's not a miracle. He gets in the water and moves his arms and legs faster than the other guys - and just by nano -seconds too. He isn't walking on the water. I have an eight-year old that can swim. My dog recently fell in the pool and without ever having been in water bef

Denied Parole

I was a junior in high school when John Lennon was killed. I remember the exact moment when I heard the news. I was walking through the kitchen of my parents' home, my mind on nothing other than I was tired. My sister used to play the radio in the morning as we got ready for school and I was half -listening to WPHD when Harv Moore explained that Lennon was killed by a crazed fan. Unbelievable . Like millions of others, I admired Lennon and all of the Beatles. I was more of a Springsteen, Stones fan, but I knew that if not for the Beatles rock and roll wouldn't have existed. I defy you not to sing along with some of those songs - and to think that they were all done by 1970 or so - God, it blows your mind. They were so ahead of their time - and they still sell millions of records. Amazing. Anyway I couldn't get over the fact that Lennon was gunned down like that. I began reading about him, and his crazed killer - Mark David Chapman. I wrote a college term paper about Lennon

County Fair

Walking around the fair always seems to present some real life lessons. First off, the cost of everything is completely out of whack with the real world - where else would you pay $3.00 for a glass of lemonade? Or $8.00 for a sausage sandwich that looks great, but turns out to be mostly bread? Not that I'm complaining. The kids had a great time, running through the mazes as I held their prizes and drinks. Kathy was right behind them heading up the moving stairs, nearly falling on her ass as I laughed at her. Then there are the games. I'm a dead-eye shooting basketball hoops, but the ball yesterday simply didn't fit in the basket. I eventually won a Yankee basketball but it cost me ten bucks. Yet it's the walking around that's worth the price of admission. The carnival workers are fun to watch as they size up every woman that passes and bargain with the kids. It seems to me that the carnival dental plan isn't very good, but every job has its pitfalls. I headed in

I Sin Every Day

What caught my eye yesterday was that Clay Aiken had a child. When I found out it was through a surrogate mother it made more sense, but I'm still not sure what to do with that information. Then there was the admission of an affair by John Edwards. This admission came after repeated denials where he lambasted his accusers for even suggestion infidelity. They always said he wanted to be like Bill Clinton - guess he was closer than we all imagined. What is particularly horrifying about his owning up to an extramarital affair is that his wife is suffering with a terminal cancer, and his children have always been front and center. Far be it for me to dump all over someone elses marriage, but can he possibly win out in the court of public opinion? He wants to be Attorney General? Maybe he should speak with Eliot Spitzer . The line that caught me is the title of this blog - "I sin every day," Edwards said by way of admission. Certainly, let those among us without sin cast the

Your Life is Now

I had a job that brought me close to my parents home, so I visited the job early and was pulling into their driveway at just about coffee time. It was a visit that was long overdue as being away on vacation kind of upset the usual routine. Their dog, Jeter, jumped on me when I opened the door, and my father poured me a coffee and offered to make some eggs. I wasn't there to eat, however (believe it or not), I just wanted to catch up. My mother told me about her battle with the blood pressure pills and the gout in her foot. My father explained how difficult it was to mow the grass, clean-up the pool, and change out the new drapes. I felt a little guilty because I wasn't around enough to help out. Anyone who's ever heard Cats in the Cradle by Harry Chapin knows how I was feeling. The conversation was light and I stayed for quite awhile even though I had other jobs to hit. We talked about the kids, how I was as a kid, the fact that someone in town asked about my new book, and

What's With Kids These Days?

I came home from work today to see Matt, an able-bodied 15-year-old sitting on the couch in the air conditioning, wrapped in a blanket and watching an old movie. He was sipping green tea and he nodded at me as I dropped my car keys. "What did you do to help today?" I asked. He paused for a long moment, blinked his eyes a couple of times and said, "Absolutely nothing, and yet, I'm tired. Isn't that ironic?" I thought about ripping him off the couch, but instead, I laughed. "Maybe you can mow the lawn tonight?" I said. "No can do," he answered. "I'm going to watch the Bills practice tonight." Last week at Cedar Point as we waited on line for a ride, Kathy decided that Sam would ride with me and Jake would ride with her. The two boys took to discussing it, with Sam having the final word. "You should ride with Dad," he told Jake. "You like him better than I do." Beautiful! Every day there's something new

Meeting New People

I stopped at the bank today to make a quick deposit. In my head I was thinking it would take three minutes - tops. The teller, Norma, had different ideas. She asked me about the weather, what I was doing in Niagara Falls, the color of my car, whether or not I had any children, if I wanted to get a new credit card through the bank, and finally she explained why Wednesday feels like the longest day of the week to her. I wasn't rude. I didn't feel much like talking, but I feigned interest in all of her wonderful words of wisdom. It wasn't like she was bothering me, either - she was just too cheerful. It got me to thinking about perfect strangers and how if you give them a few minutes they will tell you their whole life story. As I waited in line at Cedar Point last week for a water ride this man stuck his hand out to me. "I'm Tim," he said. "Since we're stuck in line we may as well get to know each other." Not what Iwas thinking, but no lies here, I

Just a Line in the News

Boy I did not miss the news when I was on vacation. I don't know why I even bother reading the news or watching the nightly local news. Seriously, what good does it do you to know that there was a fire in a vacant building, or some local joker drove into a convenience store window, drunk off his ass. I purposely changed things up on vacation, reading very little of the newspaper and not watching a minute of Fox News or CNN. What did I miss? There's a coming hurricane. Ever since reading the book about the devastation in New Orleans, I cringe when I hear that a hurricane is coming close to our shores. I can't think of much worse than flood waters and the devastation it brings. Morgan Freeman was hurt in a car wreck - now there's an actor - Keeanu Reeves and Ben Affleck should be forced to watch that man act - hopefully he'll make a full recovery. Who was better than him in Shawshank ? More fallout on Heath Ledger's death - one of the Olsen twins has something t

G.O.L.F.

Standing at the first tee - we all groaned, bitched and moaned because the foursome in front of us contained two women who addressed their ball, swung for the fences, and dribbled it thirty yards. They then high- fived as though they were on pace to shatter the club record. "Gawd!" my cart partner said. "This is going to take forever." The two women got to their first shots and promptly nailed it another 18 yards. "Gentlemen Only Ladies Forbidden," I said. My buddy just looked at me - "That's what G.O.L.F. stands for," I said. "I know a few lady golfers that can wipe the floor with us," my buddy said. "Besides that can't be true. That's not how the game was named." "Look it up," I said. "Women weren't allowed." "Women should be allowed," he said. "It's just those women I can do without right now." There were two more 37 yard rolls down the hill and I got out of the

My Beautiful Reward

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Bruce has a song where he searches through rooms seeking gold and diamond rings and wonders when he'll find his beautiful reward. He searches high and low and glides high over grey fields wondering where it is for him. Sometimes I forget. A lot of times I forget actually, but I spent last week with my wife and three boys and the dogs went along too. We shared laughs, food, drinks, swimming and sun. My wife is now the sun goddess and I'm a bronze statue. The boys behaved well and seemed to appreciate the rest and time away from their video game systems. Yet without even realizing it, I was reminded of what my reward in this life is - unlike the character in the Bruce tune - I don't need to fly here or there and wonder what makes me go. There is little confusion over whether I want to amass a fortune or remain dedicated to the people who surround me on a daily basis. Nothing is ever perfect - when we plan a vacation - we don't think of sleeping in a hard bed, or waking

A Plaque for Ned

Spent the weekend golfing and trying to decompress from what has been a fast-paced year. No sense in complaining - everyone I know is in the same boat - too much work, kids baseball games, high gas prices, an election where nobody knows what to do, blah,blah,blah,blah, blah. Anyway at the golf course in Titusville PA, with a ton of friends all around reminding me of my personal deficiencies, and a lot of beer flowing, I stepped up to hit at a short par 3. I worried about nothing all weekend except where my ball might be, or what club I should hit, but there at the tee stand stood a plaque: This hole is dedicated to the memory of Ned Carter from his loving children. There wasn't any way that I could express my heartfelt feelings about such a plaque to the other guys in my foursome - I would have been laughed off the tee box (I was laughed off after hitting my shot - but that's another story) - anyway - I thought about good old Ned and what had to be his deep love of golf. I t