Thoughts of a Common Man

Through the years I've travelled all across this great country of ours and I've become convinced of one thing - people on the East coast are wound tighter than a golf ball. The reason I've made this brilliant discovery is because everywhere I go people tell me that. My tour guide through Omaha was the latest to bring it up. "You people are high-strung," he said. "We aren't quite as intense out here. We have a good work ethic, but man, we aren't so confrontational." Perhaps it may have been me, but later I got to thinking about it. When I worked in California there were days when half the crew wouldn't come back from lunch because the sun was shining and the beer was cold. That wouldn't play so well out here. When I visited North Carolina for work, it was hard for the labor force to even show up on any given day. I remember asking one guy about it and he said, "When I get up some mornings I don't know if I'm going fishing or g

Every single time I fly, I come down with a cold. I spent the last couple of days flying to Omaha-freaking-Nebraska and back. Quick, close your eyes and what do you see when you think of Nebraska. Miles of endless nothing? Well, actually, it isn't quite so bad - I asked a couple of the local guys what they did for fun and they said - "Work." They both said it at the same time. They didn't know anything about the husband-calling contests. Yet there is steak. Great steak - nothing wrong with that. I said I'd start eating better - made myself a promise - and I sat down with the menu last night. "We have a 10-ounce cut and a 16-ounce cut," the waitress said. "Most people go with the 10-ounce cut because they can't handle so much food." When I was done with the 16-ounce, she laughed. "Probably no room for dessert," she said. I didn't have the heart to tell her I could have handled the 10-ounce and the 16-ounce. It never fails, I al

I stopped in a restaurant for lunch today. It was a decent enough place where they cook your food to order along an assembly line based on your desires. The downside of a place like this is that there is usually a line, but to pass time there were some old photos hanging on the walls. Now I've always been interested in old news and I'm fascinated to watch how people lived years and years ago. I remember the time I found the newspapers my mother had saved recounting JFK's assassination. I sat on the floor reading every word in those yellowed papers. I've saved the papers for the lasy thirty years or so, hoping that one of my kids will be interested, but I suppose the Internet will devour such a thing. So, I was fascinated with a photo of happy couples playing miniature golf in 1940. The photo showed the men dressed in suits and ties and the women wearing long evening gowns as they putted the greens. For a moment I was right there with them, regal as they spent a night on

The dynamics of the house have surely changed. This was the first photo I could get of Paris because I finally got her to settle down enough to snap it. Truthfully though she's been a breath of fresh air. I'm not sure if Kathy will agree as it has cramped life on Farmville, but so far everyone has pitched in, and I'm kind of left just keeping Melky at bay. A puppy has a certain energy though and there certainly have been moments, but isn't she cute? Some thoughts collected while wondering when Iran's nuclear program will be operational... They busted a terror threat in NYC and once more sporting events are a potential target. The fear and horror of such threats isn't lost on any American. It's a changed world and I ain't really liking it. Pope Benedict had a great quote in the news today. I read it quite a few times, "History has demonstrated the absurdities to which man descends when he excludes God from the horizon of his choices and actions."

Here's to your good looks, baby, here's to my health, here's to the loaded places that we take ourselves. When it comes to luck you make your own, tonight I got dirt on my hands but I'm building me a new home. Yeah, yeah, listen to the words and I'm ashamed to say that I had one word wrong - I always thought Bruce was saying here's to the bloody places that we take ourselves. My sister Carrie set me straight by offering a toast last night. And man, we toasted. Grey Goose, the Yankees trashing the Red Sucks (where's Frank Zocco, by the way, awful quiet this summer), and a bit of Bruce mixed in. Yet it was a day and night that was trapped deep inside the whirling mix of confusion that has been 2009. It's been a year that has left me wondering, for the first time, if mental help is seriously required, and a year in which everything has been turned upside down. And I did a toast last night to the loaded places where I take myself, which is of course, a sente

I enjoy mowing the lawn. Evidently my boys do not. Earlier in the week I made the mental note to tell Matthew to cut the lawn, but it slipped my mind, and there was precious little chance that he'd come to the conclusion on his own. Yet I was sort of glad he never got around to it because I actually was looking forward to doing it this evening. I enjoy the scent of freshly cut grass, and I enjoy looking over how good the grass looks when its cut. The fresh air and the exercise is good too. We don't have a ton of lawn to mow, but it's a good 45 minutes with the hand mower. So, the scene is set. I start the mower and make the first pass, honestly thinking of nothing other than cutting the grass, and that's when I see him. There's an old man in our neighborhood - I'd put him at about 80 years old - who spends a lot of his day riding around on a golf cart. He is a nice enough guy who waves each time he passes by. Today he waved and I smiled and waved back, and then

There's another one of those shows where when you're watching it you wonder why the hell you're doing so. Valerie Bertinelli (Barbara) being in it was the only solid reason for doing so. That is until McKenzie Phillips (the ugly sister Julie)explained to us that during those years she was having a consensual sexual relationship with her freaking father! Are you kidding me? Bad enough the dude shot her up with heroin, but he was doing her to boot? How do you recover from that? There was also info on Mick Jagger getting her when she was just a kid, but Mick got everyone didn't he? I remember reading about one of his divorces - Jerry Hall - I think and she said that Mick was a fine enough fellow, but that she couldn't trust him around anything that was breathing. She finally had enough when he did one of her best friends while she was asleep in another part of the house. Satisfaction indeed. Yet One Day at a Time was a groundbreaking sitcom because it was one of the fi

I read a long article about stress and burnout in the Buffalo News. The article explained that diet and exercise plays an important part in reducing stress levels, and keeping oneself on the straight and narrow. It didn't say anything about the Yankees having to play on the West Coast, waking up a couple of hours before the alarm, a full work schedule, and a new puppy. Through the years I've been pretty adept at working my way through stress, but through the years I've also been able to figure out ways to handle my problems. The difficulties presented this year don't seem to have any quick answers and must learned to be lived through. Yet short of breaking into song, there are a few fool-proof ways to get to my happy place, right? Well, today is Bruce's 60th birthday - in and of itself Bruce's birthday was always a chance to raise a glass - "Did you have a beer for Bruce?" was the question I'd get every September 23rd. I most likely will today, bu

Well the summer is officially over - I like the Fall, but we're looking at about eight months of crap now, huh? Some things that are bothering me - Khadafy getting Man of the Year treatment in New York? Where are the people who explained to me that we needed to get rid of Hussein because he was a bad guy? If that were the criteria we need to bomb the room in New Jersey where Khadafy is staying. I can't explain the VIP treatment that guy is getting. I can't explain why the Yankees take three West Coast trips in August and September while Boston gets fat on a steady diet of Kansas City and Baltimore. Doesn't matter -they won't catch the Yanks this year anyway, but it happens every year. Sickening. I can't explain why anyone watches How I Met Your Mother - that show sucks - I don't think I ever laughed during an episode and each week someone in the house is watching it and I walk by or I sit down and watch and ask why - no one knows. I can't explain why I

About twenty-five years ago one of my good buddies, Terry, bought me a Christmas present - a book about Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits. Not sure if everyone knows of the man or the music, but I've been loyal through the years. I've purchased every note of music that Knopfler has produced. His weeping guitar and soft lyrics have accompanied me through many moods. Sometimes the expert-playing takes me to a level of thought that shows itself in some of the darker things I've ever written. Through the years, Knopfler has been on in the background nearly every time I've sat down to write. He's on right now. A new album called Get Lucky . If you want to get lucky, buy yourself a copy - it's awesome again. Why all of this comes up is because Friday night I was stuck in traffic on the Thruway. I had the car in park, so I picked up the Buffalo News and read the Gusto. There was an announcement saying Knopfler was coming to Buffalo. Returning home, I told my wife that I ha

I must admit that by the time the dog was named I was ready to string myself up in the garage. Each and every name that was tossed out there for consideration was shot down by someone else: Snoop-Dog, Chocolate (so we'd have Chocolate-Melky), Oprah, Britney, Frankie, Ricki, TO, Vick, Claire, Julia, Roxie, Peanut, Shadow II, Fuzzy, Swisher, CC, Rivera, and even OJ were considered and dismissed. Finally, growing sick of it, I asked that we all put our favorite into a hat and pull them out. You want to know how ridiculous it got? Sam's entry for final consideration was Soap. And I liked it! We almost named the dog, Soap. Yet the winner is Paris. It was Kathy's pick and it was drawn from the hat - fair and square. Paris is a black lab mix - we are certain of the black lab - what else is any one's guess. Melky started this morning by giving the three-pound dog a kiss. It's pissed on the floor about four times, but overall the transition is smooth. Now the hard part. What

You saw it coming, didn't you? Yesterday, my wife, when we all thought she was playing Farmville, went on the Internet and found a dog. Of course, as has been the custom it is a dog that is in need of a rescue, but the main theme is that she found one, and she made the contact with the owner, and long story short, the dog will be swinging by tomorrow for our consideration. Then she informed the kids at an emergency family meeting. She said that we had to make sure it is a good fit first, but in the end, we're getting a second dog. "Melky was just too sad," Kathy said. Then the fun started as we considered the name of our potential new family member. Of course there are a number of Yankee names up for consideration - Derek, CC, Tex, Damon, Swisher - they are all open for discussion. I was leaning towards Chien-Ming-Wang, but I was vetoed right off the bat. Matt instantly yelled out T.O. and I used my veto power on that. Jake went with Michael Vick, but that one doesn&#

Six or seven weeks back I made a mistake. On a Saturday morning I asked the question that all dogs want to hear: "Wanna' go for a ride?" Melky and Shadow jumped off the bed to meet me at the door. Now, Saturday's start the same way - I answer e-mail, have a cup of coffee, and try desperately to fend off Melky who understands that it is time for that weekly ride to pick up the paper. Sadly, this week it is just Melky, Sam, Jake and me. I've tried fooling Melky with the calendar by pointing at it and saying, "It's only Friday." But she'll have none of it. Right now, she's staring at me, waiting for the clicking to stop, hoping that I'll push back in the chair and reach for the doorknob. Yet this is not simply a blog about dogs - I must admit that they are on my mind this week, but only because of the greater lessons they teach me about my life. Melky is a mess. She misses Shadow so passionately that my heart aches for her. She actually took

When you're a kid I suppose that the question you here most is, 'What do you want to be when you grow up?' The first thirty or so years is all about what you're aspiring to be, and it seems as if there is a moment when you figure out that this is where you are and where you're going to be. When I was a kid, I wanted to play for the Yankees, of course, but I figured out rather quickly that I was afraid of getting hit with the ball, so I went to the backup plan and considered writing about the team. I sort of stayed right there through the rest of my life. I answered the question about what I wanted to be by saying, 'A Writer.' It all sort of lined up, I suppose. I do write a lot. Yet all of this comes to mind because Matt was telling stories the other day. As he sat at the counter shoveling in pizza, he explained that he was going to be the general manager of the Bills or the Sabres, by the time he was twenty-six. "You'll be sitting in the same chair

I said I wasn't going to do it, but I can't help myself. I read the articles on that poor Yale Student who was brutally murdered and stuffed into a wall at the Medical Center where she worked. She was preparing to be married, but she was killed instead. And it all came to light because this morning I was buying the newspaper and on the cover of the Buffalo News was a photo of a principal stealing money from the school safe - the woman was caught on camera and they showed the photos to further drive her into despair. On the cover of the USA Today was the poor woman from Yale. There was another woman standing on line as we waited for an old man who was cashing in 7000 lottery tickets, and was having trouble doing so. I glanced at each paper - "Hard to be uplifted with this crap staring me in the face," I said. "All murder, mayhem and corruption," the woman said. "Sooner or later, it seems we're all going to be stuffed into a wall somewhere." So,

On Tuesday, Buffalo Bills player Leodis McKelvin returned to his home to find out it had been vandalized. There was garbage strewn across his lawn and a graphic drawing that sent him some sort of message, I suppose. It all happened because he fumbled the ball - twice - when he was supposed to hang onto it. Years ago a soccer player was gunned down in another country after scoring an own goal - Americans were certainly up in arms against that one - but tragically, something like that is coming here. It just has to be. People are looking for a place to hang their hats. They are misguided in their passion for the games and their identities are somehow tied to the teams that they're following. I don't quite get it, but then again... I've followed the Yankees for years and I must admit that my mood is a little brighter on days following a win. I do cheer at the games, but to spew hatred? I'm not really sure if I've ever booed a player. I was at Yankee Stadium when fans w

Sam asked Kathy last night what would happen if he got to heaven and couldn't find Shadow and Max when he got there. Kathy, of course, was a little unsure of how to answer such a question and it haunted me all day today. Kathy did her best to explain, but there really is no real explanation that suffices. I ran into a co-worker on one of the job sites and explained Shadow's death and Sam's hurt. "Can you imagine?" I asked. "How do you handle such a question from a young boy?" The roofer I was talking with didn't miss a beat - "Tell him to whistle and call her name, the dog will come," he said. Still I'm so tired of thinking about and trying to understand all of life's questions and for some reason today I thought of freaking Charlie Brown and the fact that they coupled the words 'good' and 'grief'. I can see the grief written on my boy's faces and I can hear it in the cries of Melky as she tries to contemplate wh

I drove from Buffalo to Plattsburgh and back in the past couple of days - I don't recommend the trip. The first time I was there I saw the signs for Vermont and wasn't aware that it was the State of Vermont that I was approaching. Whatever...mile after mile...lots of time to think and plenty of scenery. New York State is actually quite beautiful, but there are a ton of small towns between here and there. Most of the towns are set up in the usual way - there's a grocery store, a bar, a funeral parlor, and a gas station - all that is needed for life to thrive and prosper. In between there are a lot of small, broken-down homes, trailer parks, and cars up on blocks. I often wonder what people who live out there do to pass the time. I passed Bob's Bait and Tackle with a sign underneath, hand-written, that said - "Great Subs and Pizza." I didn't stop there for lunch - I imagined one dirty-looking guy handing out bait with one hand and making me a sandwich with t

I'm thinking of getting a petition together to complain to the God Above about what the hell has been going on - Shadow, my personal shadow, died today. She was a ten-year old black lab and yesterday on the way home from her weekend ride in the car she leaped a good few feet off the bricks and into the driveway - I laughed and commented to the boys that she still acted as though she were a puppy. Yet time waits for no one... Shadow came to us after Kathy, Matt and Jake begged me to get her. I was deadset against it, but of course, I relented. A black lab puppy is not to be under-estimated though and she was pure hell on wheels there for awhile - eating the insides out of the couch, crapping everywhere, and chewing up everything left on the floor. She also drove Max absolutely crazy, but slowly and surely, she figured out the rules of the house - and then she followed me from room to room for the next ten years. Shadow was surely my shadow. As I write this I feel the tears welling i

...you won't even see coming. One of my favorite weekends of the year is finishing up. Each year I golf with a group of co-workers and friends at a couple of great courses. This year I also brought one of my best buddies along and the weekend certainly didn't disappoint. We shared a few adult beverages, a ton of insults, a steak dinner, and too many golf strokes, but a couple of things happened along the way. First off, Jeter was about to break the Yankees hit record. At the bar, I was watching the action on my Blackberry as the bar was inexplicably carrying the NASCAR race - of course, the Blackberry is a little behind the action, and as Jeter's 2nd at-bat played out, my cell phone rang - and my 8-year-old son Sam yelled out DEREK JETER! "What happened?" I asked. "Line single to right!" Sam said. And I almost cried right there. Not because Jeter did it (which was a tad emotional, I must admit), but because Sam had hurled himself into a great void in my

It's been eight long years since 9/11 and yesterday I became aware that something I wrote about the tragedy, that was published in the USA Today and a few other papers, is appearing in a book on communication and persuasion. (Pretty scary - people quoting me). Eight years ago I wrote about not immediately returning the hatred of the attacks. It was an article I wrote in immediate response, but one that was something I believe to this day. Our first instinct, of course, was to return the hate airmailed to us on that horrific day. Certainly it's a natural response - and the fact that we were attacked still makes my blood boil, but on 09/11/01 I thought that perhaps with the loss of humanity staring us in the face, we'd take a moment to think about it differently. Boy was I wrong - when the article appeared in those newspapers I received anonymous telephone calls to my home telling me that my bleeding heart is the reason why we were sitting ducks for an attack. For one caller,

Being that I was watching Jeter tie the record last night, I didn't see Obama and the health care debate. I did hear that someone in the crowd yelled out, "You lie!" All politics aside, what would make someone scream something out when another man is giving a speech? Isn't that just plain rude? It's not a comedy act where you can go and heckle, is it? Hopefully it doesn't set a precedent. Perhaps next time he can take off his shoe and throw it. Which brings me to the heart of the matter. I continue to talk about the country losing its moral center - and in a room filled with people, and the President of the United States talking - this guy wants to be the center of attention. They should have escorted him from the room and revoked all his privileges of lying, cheating and stealing from the American public that goes along with his job. Whatever... I just remember being a part of an audience at an Italian-American benefit that my father got invited to - it was a

In a day and age when athletes don't really deserve our adulation there seems to be one guy who stands above the rest. No drug busts, no mention of steroids, you can't even really get a handle on what beautiful girl he's dating. Day in and day out, playing hurt, and saying the right things. Last night, he tied Lou Gehrig for the all-time Yankee hit lead. Say it together like the crowd at the stadium: DEREK JETER! DEREK JETER! DEREK JETER! DEREK JETER! DEREK JETER! DEREK JETER! My plan had been to get to sleep early last night, but Jeter got base hits in two of his first three at-bats. I just knew he'd get another hit his next time up. And do you know how I knew? Because I've watched him nearly every night for the past 13 years - and he has hardly ever let me down. He's dependable. He goes to the game ready to do his job. Sure enough - a Jeterian single to right, and his family hugged in the box high above the field. As he clapped his hands it occurred to me tha

Back-to-back real long days at work - you know the type of days - when you want to throw the freaking blackberry out the window just to see far how it will go. It's interesting but isn't the United States the only country where we actually work ourselves to the nub like this? Don't they take siesta's in Mexico? Aren't they drinking wine by noon in Italy? I suppose that it's a product of always wanting more and always trying to be productive for the freaking man. Yet I would love to meet the man who developed the five-day work week - I'd bash his head in with my lunch pail. I definitely feel myself slowing down. For a lot of years there I did not bother to take off consecutive days - I'd get the holidays, the weekends and that was enough. This year I've actually taken a couple of weeks of vacation and while it's been refreshing to a point, on days like today it doesn't seem to be near enough. So, here I sit, waiting for some brilliant observat

Man, I don't get the controversy about Obama wanting to talk in the schools. Shouldn't he be afforded that luxury as president of the United States? Perhaps I'm looking at this wrong - I know we can't make mention of God in schools - but shouldn't the leader of the free world be allowed to tell the kids to stay in school? I ran into a mother of two the other night and she was talking about keeping her kids out of schools because Obama had the speech ready. "That's like Hitler!" she said. "Seriously?" my wife asked. "Don't you let your kids watch Family Guy and The Simpsons ? Can't they listen to the president for a few minutes?" The mother replied - and get this - "I don't know what the hell I'm talking about. I heard someone else say that and it sounded good." Yet it shouldn't be about Democrat or Republican. When I heard of the controversy I asked myself if I would be offended if George W sent out a m

There is just so much garbage on the Internet, isn't there? I'm not sure that Al Gore, when he invented the Net, believed that it would come to this. We have two computers in the house - the one in my office which is supposed to be used exclusively for work, and the one in the kid's room where all sorts of Fantasy Sports Leagues, Face book accounts, and PlayStation activities can be handled. We worked the split this way because a couple of years back Matt downloaded Internet games that locked up the computer for a couple of days and threatened the money coming in. A couple of days ago I entered my office to see my wife on the computer with a fake farm on the screen. Evidently there's a game where you build your farm. "Why are you using that computer for games?" I asked gently. "I'm not downloading anything," Kathy said. I was just returning from work so I wasn't my usual Happy-Go-Lucky self. "That's the work computer," I reminde

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened . Doing the usual writing dance this morning, I started my book-research by reading a little bit. I read a long story about a haunted house South of Buffalo, read the New York Times articles that interested me, caught a recap of a murder-suicide, and then moved onto a few motivational quotes. I caught the above quote and couldn't believe that it was Dr. Seuss who had penned the line. The same guy who wrote Green Eggs and Ham? Curious, I hit the button to bring up a few similar quotes. You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. Be who are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. Yes, two more gems from Dr. Seuss. With Mark Knopfler's expert guitar in the background, I was set to begin the writing experiment for the day. Smile because it happened provided the perfect context in which to put one

God, I wish everyone in the world could meet my sister Corinne and my brother-in-law Chuck. As a writer often times I'm forced to comment on the negative side of the world. Tonight, it's all about some real positive people. As you will note in the photo attached, there were some awesome pepper creations shared by a group of phenomenal friends. Six or seven hours later and here I am. Here I am thinking about family and friendship and love and life everlasting. Here I am thinking about my sister and my mother and my father and great friends. Here I am after laughing as my father told the same old jokes to my son that always made me laugh. We held a stuffed pepper contest that was well-attended by a group of close friends. I won a prize, but it was my brother's recipe and he would have laughed at my lame attempt - he was the king of it all - and we knew that. Yet there was my sister, at the forefront, making sure that we lived a little on a holiday weekend when life threatened

I'm honored to have been asked and am truly looking forward to the opportunity to be the keynote speaker at the Toastmasters International event to be held on November 6 & 7th at the Seneca Niagara Casino and Hotel in Niagara Falls. Toastmasters is a truly wonderful organization that provides communication and leadership skills training to a wide audience. I want to help make it an even wider audience! Now through the years many people have had the chance to hear me speak about why I write, how I write, and what it means to be published in this day and age. I've told my story many times to different audiences and have been really happy to answer all sorts of questions about the publishing business, working with an editor and an agent. Yet this time I'm thrilled with the chance to speak because I'm going to have a different forum, so to speak, and I'm going to be able to incorporate some new stories about communication and leadership. You know writing has always

Man, I drive a lot - thousands and thousands of miles per year. I normally can find enough to occupy my time - talking on the phone, texting, playing brickbreaker, eating, reading the paper. Actually, I don't do those things - I put that in there to let my wife worry. Most of the time it's the radio that keeps me company. For the long trips Howard Stern and the gang are perfect companions - this week his discussion about the Catholic church recommending that people pray before making love had me in stitches. He was recommending the prayer and the act that should follow it. Those that are offended by Howard - lighten up! Yet this afternoon, I was sinking fast - Howard was off today, sports radio wasn't saying anything nice about the Yankees even though they are absolutely dominating, (Where are the haters? Awfully quiet!) and evidently some college kid punched another college kid in the jaw after a game last night - so booooring. I went to the radio - Bruce was on of course,

The boys got on the bus this morning and I wasn't there to see it because I had to leave early for work. I wish I would have had my father's brain. Before I left this morning I saw the boys and told them I expected at least a 95 average this year. "Won't happen," Jake said. Like Jake, I left the Catholic school after 6th grade and I was a little nervous about entering a new school. My father woke me early all those years ago. For some reason he shook me awake without rousing any of my brothers and sisters. Being that I was nervous about my new adventure I put on my new clothes and headed down the stairs. "I'm tired," I said, but my father set the milk and cereal before me. He was smiling at me but I didn't think much of it. "Are you nervous?" Dad asked. "No, but man, I'm tired." I started eating and it dawned on me that everyone else had school too. Why was I the only one up? I turned and looked at the clock - it was 3:25

The Farmer's Almanac said that it's going to be cold this winter. Actually, that wouldn't be news, would it? To break down exactly what they meant - 'It's going to suck - bad.' Yet there is something about the change of seasons that I need as a human being. I have an internal switch that sort of clicks me into a different mindset on September 1st. I'm limping to the conclusion of the golf season and actually looking forward to the 2-day event that normally ends my year. It's at the end of next week and I can almost see myself putting the clubs away in the back corner of the garage. The kids are going back to school this week and there's only four dry eyes in the place - they belong to me and the wife. The battles over homework, the fights for earlier nights in bed, the 7 AM races for the front door as the bus waits. Ah, it's wonderful. And then we'll be in the house. And I'll be looking at the blank computer screen, wondering if the words