Thoughts of a Common Man

23 years ago today my buddy Rosie called me to tell me he had two extra Springsteen tickets for a Saturday before Easter show in Long Island. This is how the conversation went: Rosie: Two extra seats - great seats. Me: Can't be done. Rosie: I'll call you back in 15 minutes. I tried the airlines - way out of my price range. I called a buddy, Tom, and told him of the offer. "Let's go," he said. The phone rings. Rosie: What time you going to be here? Me: About six. Rosie: See you then. Tom and I drove the eight hours - listening to Bruce all the way. We met up with Rosie, listened to Bruce in the parking lot over a couple of beers. The seats were great. Bruce came onstage at 7:45 dressed in a tux. At 12:45 Rosie turned to me and said - "Don't clap for him anymore, maybe he'll leave." Bruce left the stage 15 minutes later, and Tom and I got back in the car and drove all the way to Buffalo - straight thru - listening to Bruce. I arrived at my parents

Over the course of the last month my wife has returned to school as she begins her studies to be a nurse. The course work is rough, getting back into school mode is difficult, there's still too much for all of us to do around here, and the boys....man, the boys are getting to be real comic geniuses. The first set of tests came back for Kathy over the course of the last two days. She received a 100 and a 98. "What question did you miss?" I asked. She just offered a frown. Being a good mom, she decided to turn it into a life lesson. "You see what happens when you work hard?" she lectured Jake and Sam. "Every night I study whether I want to or not, or whether there's a good show on or not. The studying comes first." The boys were basically silent for a split-second. But just a split-second. "Don't you want to be like me?" Kathy asked. "Yeah," Sam replied. "I want to be just like you - I wanna' be going to school when I

Despite my constant complaining about Cheetah Woods and that idiot that married Sandra, I must take the time to confess that there's another woman in my life - maybe two - sorry Kathy - I didn't want to have to tell you like this. I went to bed late last night, thinking of them and the suggestions that they made about what I should do, and I woke up in tears this morning knowing that I'd had a breakthrough, and that everything would be perfect in how I wanted to make it happen. Now for all of you writers and want-to-be-writers out there you've probably already figured out that I am not cheating on my wife - this is about my book editor and my publisher. On Friday evening, wondering what I was going to do for the weekend, back hurting still, not feeling like having a drink, I found my manuscript waiting for me inside the door. As is custom, I ran upstairs, and read through it - counting the number of marks on each page (and there are hardly ever any clean pages) and I re

In recent days there has been a story making the rounds about a girl who wants to go to her prom - with another girl. The young lady is fighting hard to allow her same-sex partner the rights the other children have in getting ready for the big day. Believe it or not, I was able to finagle a date for each of my proms back in high school. I was thrilled to go too, enjoying all the perks of being a grown-up. I recall being nervous meeting the girls parents as well as being extremely afraid of how my father might act. I made it through each time. During the prom, I acted like a gentleman, wore a flower pinned to my chest, stood proud for the photos, and danced like a mentally-challenged chimp to the collection of Air Supply songs being played. The prom was good for my self-respect, offered me confidence, and I was happy to accept a couple of kisses on the cheek for my hundreds of dollars of investment. I did not develop a long-term relationship with either of my dates, but I grew from ther

Well, I'm bluer than blue, sadder than sad - you're the only life this empty room has ever had - Life without you is going to be - bluer than blue. Remember that song? It was popular about twenty years ago written and performed by someone named Michael Johnson I don't have to miss no tv shows, I can't start my whole life over - change the number on my telephone, but the nights will sure be colder 'cause I'm bluer than blue, sadder than sad - you're the only life... Great song. I just happened to catch it on Sirius love songs because E Street Radio was playing a scratchy concert version of Bruce doing Twist and Shout - sorry Bruce, that's Lennon's song. I used to walk thru record stores asking anyone if they had a cassette tape of the guy - then I graduated to CD - asked some more - couldn't find him in the folk section, pop section, or any section - always wanted the song for my collection. ...I can run through the house screaming, and no one wil

So...at least I had my NCAA pools going for me...I was really looking forward to a weekend of watching the games and barking at everyone who'd listen that I was sooooooo smart and that I'd win money again. All I needed out of last night's four games was a Syracuse win. Everything else was just a distraction. Putting the Syracuse game in the bank by ten o'clock would allow me to sleep easy, and wait for the rest of a great weekend. Ten minutes into the game they were down 12-1 - they looked like they were all playing with stones tied to their hands - the ball would hit them and bounce off. Of course, my kids were beside me laughing it up, reminding me that I am indeed a little slow. An aside here, I swear I have my children believing that as a nine-year old I starred in the NBA as a white kid from West Virginia who made the Lakers. "How come I can't find your name in the record books when I Google it?" Sam said. "I went under an alias," I said. &q

My head is about to explode. Okay, I had time to read three papers this morning- I was teaching a class and needed to do something while they were watching movies. I just have a few questions: 1). How can you cheat on Sandra? Seriously, with a bunch of women, sometimes even when she was in the same building as you? Or while she was financing your existence, or winning an Academy Award? Or thanking you as the man who had her back? Disgusting. Not anyone's business, but I defy you not to read it. 2). A couple in Buffalo on the verge of celebrating their 68th wedding anniversary...sounds like a great story...cops found her dead and him suffering from a self-inflicted wound of some sort. Gives new meaning to the joke about the old couple having breakfast: "What do you want to do today?" she asks cheerfully. "Kill you," he replies. Horrible. 3). Congrats on passing Obamacare - here's a rock through your window - glass was breaking in all the Democratic offices th

...is in the past (stealing a line from Tracy Chapman) And that line has been fluttering through my head as I get continually pounded by people who want to know how I feel about Obama giving our counrty away. I suppose my mostly liberal slant in the past bothers others. Frankly, I could care less. Point One - Healthcare has been a problem since Roosevelt - every president except for W.Bush took a shot at it - Nixon had a plan that was more liberal than Obama's but didn't get it through because he lied. Clinton tried - couldn't get it through because he lied. W. Bush didn't try - he was too busy lying. So there we have it - Obama hasn't been caught lying yet - he got it through. He was creative in getting it through the House and Senate - sort of like the war vote - but W did have some backing then because he lied about his info. Point two - Thirty-Six million Americans need healthcare - nothing worse than watching a loved one die because you can't afford the med

Don't you hate the feeling of losing something that you just had a moment before? Of course, we can put it into context of the big picture and understand that we are losing things from the first day on, but I'm talking something that you adjusted in your pocket, then couldn't find. I was on a job today, climbed up five floors of scaffold, checked my pocket to make sure I had all the crap I usually carry - phone - check, chew - check, pen - check, digital camera - check - all good as I reached the top. I even did a deep bend, surprised that I didn't feel any more back pain - things were good. I discussed a couple of things with one of the owners, ducked under a scaffold frame, felt the back twist, thought about whether or not the crap had shifted in my pocket. Yet, the guy was moving fast, unencumbered by degeneration of the neck discs, pockets empty. I followed. He was talking but I was thinking that I had another chiropractor appointment set - the back would be snapped

Went to the NCAA games yesterday here in lovely Buffalo, and it was a first-rate event. Saw Syracuse rock Gonzaga to keep the dream alive, and sort of marveled at the crowd watching the game. The college atmosphere is crazy with fans seeming to be more impassioned than a pro crowd, and the people watching is fun. First off, you have the fan who is ready to scream at anything. He'll shout out at the refs, a bad pass, a missed free throw. This sort of guy believes that no matter what his team will eventually fail, and that it is due to a conspiracy that has been elaborately designed to aggravate him. "That's a foul!" this middle-aged man dressed in West Virginia garb screamed. There was no chance that the ref could hear him, but he shouted nonetheless. "Jesus Christmas!" he shouted a little while later. I actually laughed out loud at that one. Then you have the guy who comes to the game for one reason only - to eat the over-priced food. I saw a man with nachos

Human Wheels spin 'round and 'round, while the clock keeps the pace. Human wheels spin 'round and 'round, help the light find my face. Went out for awhile last night - had a few Jamesons - my wife says it was more than a few, but she's a freaking liar. Woke up happy today - isn't booze supposed to be a depressant? Ah, well, maybe tomorrow I'll be back in my element. Thing is, my buddy Terry sent me songs for the I-pod - good songs too, he knows his crap - and a World Series hat for the 27-TIME WORLD CHAMPION NEW YORK YANKEES - and it was right on time, as they say, as I'd been down in the dumps - isn't it cool to be one of the people who help other people? I don't know it all the time, but Terry does - thanks, pal. And I got in my car this morning to retrieve the morning news, and the I-pod was playing the Mellencamp tune - Human Wheels, spin 'round and 'round . I entered the house and said the following words to Kathy - "Man, if the

Remember the old Flinstones cartoon when Fred becomes addicted to gambling and Barney needs to keep him away from the horse races? Perhaps I get too much of my understanding of life from Fred and Barney, but Fred is obsessed running around yelling, "Bet, bet, bet, bet, bet." That's the way it seems around here on the first two days of the NCAA Tourney. It was Jeff's tradition to choose names from a hat and while we canned the idea, we got back to it this year with Sam and Uncle Chuck joining the party. It's a pure luck situation, but we put a little money on it to make it interesting. So we got that. Then we have the brackets that everyone is involved in. Year after year I fill them damn things out with one thing in mind - what if I get them all right? By the end of the second game I'm usually 0 and 2. Yet it's great fun. The red and black ink is flying around as the games draw to a close, and having the boys involved has made it interesting. "I'm

Sandy, that waitress I was seeing lost her desire for me. Isn't it something that the things that make you feel so alive are the very things that will tear you down? I ask that question with the knowledge that last week I spent time pushing the buttons on a slot machine like a trained monkey while sipping glasses of Grey Goose. I had full knowledge of the fact that there were better ways to spend my time, but still, I had fun and that was what I was after - consequences be damned. Just finished reading the story about Sandra Bullock's husband saying he was sorry for cheating on her. My poor, poor Sandy! Back when she wanted to date me and spoke of marriage more than winning an Oscar, I explained that sometimes things just weren't meant to be, and now she's hurting. Seriously, your wife is out making the film that is going to win her the academy award for best actress, and you can't keep it together long enough not to sleep with a porn star that comes into your shop?

With the I-pod finally loaded, (thanks to a big assist from the kids),and the back calmed down a bit (still not all the way there), and the newest river in front of the Fazzolari's to cross, (trying to get to the rivers just beyond it), I finally had the chance to catch up on a little reading. As I do each morning, I went to the New York newspapers, and caught a glimpse of a familiar name, Emmanuel Young, a fine writer who shares a publisher with me. Young's book, The Psalms of a Warrior's Heart , was published through Sterling House, and like all of the books published there - it's a great read. (See how I subtly told you all of my books are great?) Anyhow, I saw that Emmanuel was about to take a stab at writing the tell-all book from former wife swapper, Jamie Czerniawski, who was also an alleged husband-stabber after a run-in with her soon-to-be divorced husband.(She beat the rap). It caught my attention not only because Emmanuel was about to handle a real sensitive

My poor wife shares her birthday with St. Patrick's Day, and if that isn't enough the buzz around our house is all about the NCAA Tourney. We have all filled out our brackets and paid our money, and are anxiously awaiting the schedule of the games. But first, we must celebrate! Happy Birthday to My Beautiful Wife! As anyone who reads this blog knows, it ain't easy dealing with me on a day-to-day basis. The highs, the lows, the obsessive-compulsive behavior, the deadlines both real and imagined, the opinions, Dear God the opinions! Yet my wife is the best at just shrugging it off, entertaining the notions, and dismissing the garbage. She is even better at making sure that we are all safe from harm each and every moment. You haven't lived until you've received eleven straight messages, while you're sitting in a meeting, from a frantic wife who has imagined that you've driven off the road. Yet today isn't about finding fault! It's about saying Happy Bir

This woman has set a personal goal. All of your best motivational speakers tell you to focus on what you want to do, and then no matter what stands in your way, get the job done. Problem being...this woman wants to become the fattest woman in the world. I'm not sure how much she weighs now or how much she needs to gain to achieve her goal because the newspaper article showed her weight in kilos and I was too lazy to learn the translation. I'm guessing she weighs, oh say,.....a lot. A half-ton. She needs to gain about a quarter ton to reach her desired weight. A few years ago she became the Guinness Record holder in the fattest woman to ever give birth - there were thirty doctors at her delivery - and please don't get me started as to who was there for the conception... ...but without naming names...I'm thinking I might have went to college with him. The diet she is on calls for 12,000 calories per day. Now I like to eat, but I'm guessing I couldn't do even half

Simply the word of the day, and today's overall theme. Hopefully there will be something more to report tomorrow. Just say it with me today. Suck. Monday. Cloudy. People calling. People texting. I-pod not done. More rough health news. Suck MRI Scheduled. Back still hurts. 15 hour day. All together now! SUCK! How's that for an inspirational post? And you thought I had answers for this catastrophe of life?

I've always been so protective of my music. I never wanted to change how I bought it, how I kept it organized, and which CD's I used and when. Then my sister went and blew it all by bringing her I-pod with her on vacation last year. As we watched the waves, we listened to her music, just one song after another, beer after beer, the i-pod on shuffle, laughing at how great the music was and wondering if we'd ever get out of the sun long enough to even help with dinner. It took me a year to break down. Well, actually, my wonderful wife picked up the I-pod for me. "How many songs can you put on it?" she asked. "You better get the biggest one they got," I said. "I have hundreds of CD's." And the I-pod arrived a couple of days ago, and now, the obsession disorder is on overdrive, and thankfully, I'm not suffering alone. It seems Sam is similarly cursed. For the past 48 hours we've been in front of the computer, downloading CD's and lo

Went to Jake's playoff basketball game this morning, and I try to go to a few games, but get a little antsy. Coaches acting as if they are trying to win the championship, loud parents yelling at the rent-a-refs, and my boys trying hard to battle the things I gave them - glacier-like-foot-speed, and a vertical leap of about an inch and a half. Yet I was pleasantly surprised with Jake's performance. He battled for every rebound, set screens, stole a couple of passes, and really worked hard. Plus he looked so tall out there. Hard to watch him play and not think of how fortunate he was to have a guardian angel and a staff of wonderful people at Women & Children's Hospital. But for crying out loud, there was a gorilla of a kid playing on the other team. He jumped over every one's back to retrieve rebound after rebound, and he literally camped out in the lane under the basket. "Watch the 3 seconds," I said very nicely one time down. Jake's team was down by t

Went to a job today where the contractor I was checking in on was installing an elevator in a building. I jumped into the conversation late as the elevator maintenance man was checking the emergency controls. The discussion seemed a little odd as one man seemed awfully concerned with how the alarm button could be reached. "It's right there," I said. "Who could NOT reach it?" "The guy who will be using this elevator doesn't have any arms," the man said. "He was in an accident." "Oh, geez," I said, feeling like a complete ass. Twenty minutes later I was on my way to another site but I couldn't stop thinking about that poor guy. Talk about sucking it up and toughing it out. I was greeted by a group of guys working for a roofing contractor. Each guy asked me about my back and urged me to tell them about the accident on the Skyway. All but one guy. He was sort of sitting off to one side. I tried to give the comical version of the

Been battling the sore back and neck for weeks now. I can tell you a few things: 1). I like muscle relaxers. 2). My kids are big fans of telling me to suck it up and tough it out. 3). I'm getting old. The X-rays came back and I looked them over noticing that my back looked all right to me. Then the doctor called to tell me that I have severe degeneration of discs in my neck. Wonderful. The thing that gets me is that they used the word 'degeneration'. A cool, very descriptive word. I'm all about the language. Yet a word that truly makes you feel like a beaten-down man, right. Well, the way I look at it, I've been degenerating since that first slap on the ass from the doctor, and I just recently gave up on my dream to be the starting left fielder for the 27-time WORLD CHAMPION NEW YORK YANKEES. I will swing my golf club this year, no matter what, and I already have the power of a seventy-year-old man, so I will continue - who cares if I lose another twenty yards off o

Just finished reading about a couple from New York who own a diner. It seems as if they are getting extra customers these days because of the potential new variety of cheese that people think might be on the menu. You see, the couple has just had a baby, and as per custom the momma is serving up breast milk. The daddy has turned some of that breast milk into cheese, and there are rumors that it may turn up on the menu at the diner. Mmmmm, breast milk cheese. The proud parents and restaurant owners are denying that they are going to offer up the goods, but some of their friends have tried it. "It tasted like pickles," one lady said adding that it wasn't very good. Yet there are lines of people waiting to give it a whirl. The woman has been beaten down by all of the people offering to sample her breast milk. These are total strangers turned on by the chance to grab a slice of the cheese. Gross? There are just so many jokes here and so many ways to go with this, but revulsio

Ever since that Erin Andrews story I get a little paranoid walking around my hotel room in my delicates - what if someone is looking through the peephole at me as I prepare myself for the work day? Imagine that poor bastard who looks in on me while searching for Erin Andrews. It would serve him right. What is really getting to me is the bad behavior of people. I see they found two young girls murdered in California, and there was a horrific murder in my hometown of North Collins. So hard to imagine. One of the other thoughts running through my head the last couple of days is how much I hate the Oscars and the self-congratulatory bullshit that goes along with that. I usually never see one of the movies nominated and while this week I've been seeing a lot of Sandra Bullock, whom I used to date, I'm also seeing just as much of Moni'que who I also may have dated in college. Just kidding, by the way. (Not about Sandra Bullock). Yet they give their speeches, they all look great,

I was sort of dreading the moment - the moment in the mass when the reader says - "We remember Jeffrey Fazzolari.... I shook my head in dismissal of the words, said a prayer, and turned to see all of the family members gathered. Carrie Lynn was holding her son, Tony. He was smiling at her, making a funny face, and moments after the words hit my heart, he kissed Carrie, and hugged her tight. Carrie had a huge smile on her face. I smiled too. My wife, of course, was beside me. She wiped away a tear as she kissed me and offered me peace. Peace. Yeah, peace please... Ten minutes later I was at the front of the church, waiting to take communion. My mother was handing out the host as a Eucharistic Minister in the other line. I was glad that I wasn't in her line because looking at the determination in her face, and knowing how much her heart was breaking... I didn't want her to see the tears in my eyes. It was too beautiful to consider. The faith, the hope, the love, the determin

One of the benefits of having a sore back is that I get to lie around a bit. Who doesn't like being lazy from time-to-time? I read a quote about John Mellencamp about the best thing about being rich and famous - he said he craved it because he gets a nap every day. That certainly would be a benefit - that and the millions of dollars. Yet I was laid up last night, Melky sharing the bed with me, the television on, and back-to-back episodes of Cops. Kathy even delivered a cold water to me after I cell-phoned down requesting it. The second episode started with a cop explaining how he'd do his job for free, and that it was always exciting to be up and ready for what might come his way. Due to the miracle of television, ten seconds later he was on the ground wrestling with a real nasty looking guy over a crack pipe. Not my idea of an exciting day, but thank God there are people willing to do that. And I thought about my fascination with Cops and all the people they meet. Sometimes it

Started the day at the doctors to have the back checked out again. The doctor laughed during the examination: "Wow, I've never seen anyone with such a limited range of motion. You're about to snap like a rubber band." Ah, that's good news. "You need to take some time off of work," she said. "Not happening," I answered. I'm still an idiot, even after knowing that shit happens. "Well, you at least need a muscle relaxer. I've never seen anything like it. You need a specialist." I had a suggestion. "Give me the muscle relaxer and I'll buy the grey goose," I said. She acted as if I'd slapped her. "Just kidding," I lied. So, here I sit, or should I say lay, waiting for the muscle relaxer to kick in. I need a little more ice for my drink. Just kidding. Kathy would skin me if I even thought about mixing it up for fun. "How's everything?" you ask. "Wonderful!" Try again tomorrow.

365 days since the unimaginable was fully imagined. An entire year awash with sadness and a dogged determination by those around me to help me hang on. A full calendar to appreciate the love of an absolutely wonderful wife and children, a legion of unbelievable friends, brothers and sisters beyond reproach, and people in the writing world who treated me as a family friend and not just a guy who can write a story. And still... It’s Not Supposed to Be You’re supposed to be standing beside me as I roll a 3-foot putt by the hole, saying, ‘Ah, that’s a damn shame.’ You’re supposed to call me on the phone after winning a bet from me, telling me, ‘You’re so stuuuuuuuupid.’ You’re supposed to call me after I step off of live television and say, ‘I know the camera adds ten pounds, but how the hell many cameras did they have on you?’ You’re supposed to be here. We are two trapeze artists, and I stand with my wrist waiting for your wrist. You’re supposed to be here for 40 more years, making fun o

I took my jury duty assignment seriously. Well, as seriously as most. I postponed it twice, and feeling the threat of imprisonment cleared my schedule for my call in for yesterday. My number was called. Feeling like cattle I herded with hundreds of others in a room where the coffee machine served hot water only. Feeling burned by the loss of 75 cents, I waited for my name to be called...and waited...and waited...and waited. I talked to a couple of total strangers, saw a couple of old friends in the room, and was even thrilled that one of the Buffalo Bills was waiting on his name being called. At least they had to go through the same sort of crap. I answered a few work calls, but the main thing on my mind was a father-son basketball game with my boy at the end of the day. Sore back and all, it was all I really wanted to accomplish. I'd promised him I would dominate him and his buddies. Finally, just after ten I was summoned to a courtroom. There were about sixty of us headed to a ro

The plan started on Saturday morning. Given the fact that I wasn't working on anything new writing-wise, I had to do something to pass the time, so I started on the sauce for Sunday dinner. Being that I had plenty of time, I relished the fact that I was cutting up garlic and onions and mixing it with the basil and olive oil. I defrosted the ribs, broiled them, cut up beef chunks, put eggs in boiling water, and waited for the aroma of the oil and garlic to fill the room. "Cook it slow and don't burn the garlic," I remember the greatest chefs I've ever met whispering in my ear. I thought of Dad doing the same thing every Sunday morning, and considered that Jeff perfected it. I opened the tomatoes, mixed the meatballs, thinking of my sister Carrie nailing the mixture every time, and did my best. The aroma of the cooking sauce filled the house for the next 24 hours. My first thought on Sunday morning was to put it back on simmer, and then I did the most important part