Thoughts of a Common Man

Sometimes things catch you the wrong way. Tuesday night was one of those times. I read a few accounts on Twitter about what a brave, hearty, courageous soul Ryan Miller, the Sabres goalie, was for playing in the game Tuesday night just a mere 24 hours after returning from the Olympics in Russia. Oh the humanity! What a cruel thing to do to a man!! Make him play a game after such a grueling trip where he played 60 minutes in two weeks while heroically representing the country as they got bounced and didn't even get a medal? So, I made mention of it in a response to a Buffalo sportswriter. "Boo-hoo," was my wording. The reporter responded by telling me that I was clueless and ignorant because jet lag is a tiring thing. I just don't get it, folks. Ryan Miller is a 33-year-old professional athlete who is paid about $5 million a year as he stands in front of a net and deflects frozen rubber away. What the hell are we doing? He's a hero because he

So, Matt survived the weekend of bringing a girl around to meet his family. It was touch and go there for awhile...we thought Sam would be a thorn in their side. Turns out Matt should have been more worried about me. "Hi, I'm Leah," she said to me as I entered the house after a long road trip. "Hi, you're in my seat," I said. The poor girl jumped off the couch as if she were shot out of a cannon. Yet the real highlight of the weekend was when my beautiful wife and I did our comedy sketch for her about how wonderful it is to be in a long-term committed relationship. "Get used to the sweatpants look," I told Matt, "because the getting all dolled up to come by and watch a movie doesn't last very long. Leah simply smiled along with my wife. "It's all false advertising," I said. "My wife has executed years and years of what can only be considered absolute fraud. The bait and switch." Kathy was laughin

Matt was home for the weekend from college. Of course that meant heading out for fun. I remember being his age, of course, and thinking: "When I get older I'm still gonna' go out and have a great time!" I also remember asking my Dad to go to the movies with us one weekend. "I'm not going to sit in some theater. I work hard all week. I'm sitting right here on the couch." That wasn't going to happen to me! On Saturday night my beautiful wife returned from work at about 7:30. She grabbed her dinner and sat on the couch across from where I was already seated. Sam was jumping around watching the college basketball game between Duke-Syracuse and I was watching along too. "Are we gonna' do something?" Kathy asked. "You wanna' go out dancing?" I replied. "No. Are we watching something?" We have been watching the Kevin Bacon show, The Following . It's entertaining enough. "Perhaps,&quo

And This: And Finally: Have a Great Day!

The work is almost done. Let it be known that Chris Colantino just flat-out nailed the book cover. They say a book can't be judged by the cover, but I hope this one is. I had a feeling...and it paid off. Chris read the draft copy and found the spirit of the title. He jumped right in and got to work. He learned a little about deadlines and making sure it was just right...and then about letting go. And we are almost there. I'm happy too. You see, there was a great impulse to finish the book writing career after ten books. That's a nice number. I didn't need any more. I had sat in a room where they passed out writing awards and I'd finally felt comfortable there. I'd done what I set out to do. I wrote books, got a few laughs, earned some money that I promptly gave away, and signed some autographs. All high aspirations, but I'd done it. And I'd had enough. But then my buddy, Jeff Popple, sent me a quick message: "Write me somethin

You see the guy in the photo? He's tough to see because the girl is so beautiful and hard not to look at, but that's him. The man, the myth, the legend. Christopher J. Miller is 50 years old today. A few truths about my friendship with CJM: 1). I tried to strangle him one day. He was the first guest over at a birthday party where I had cooked for 40 people, cleaned the yard, and vacuumed the house. He started in about my weight, or my bald head, or the fact that I was overworked and tired, and I tried to strangle him. He laughed. 2). I hated him in high school because he was a good athlete on our rival team and he was an arrogant douche. The only thing that's changed is that he's not an athlete anymore. 3). Our first day in college we flipped each other the bird. We meant it. Since those days... ...we've shared everything. 4). He picked up a 7-iron and played six holes of golf against my buddies and me. He beat us by ten strokes, easy. 5).

I've had a bunch of long work days in a row and was set up to go to Syracuse and back on Friday morning. I made a conscious decision to listen to music all the way. Some thoughts gathered: 1). I really enjoy the way Keith Richards plays the guitar and sometimes I forget that. His riffs are legendary though and take me back in time. Way back in some instances. 2). Natalie Maines has a beautiful voice. 3). It's easy to forget the fun things in life. As I drove listening to Bruce belt out This Is Your Sword from the new record, I thought of the kids and how much I want to protect them forever. I just want to grab them and hold them close and tell them these things: Love with all your heart. Grieve with everything you have. Enjoy your days. Laugh a lot. Find a good companion. 4). Air Supply came on. I have one song by that band. Come What May . It's a song that makes me think of a great friend in my life. Lisa was the girl at college who started me thinking

I've had a problem lately because the ashtray in my car is overfilled with change. I usually dump the extra change in there after buying a water or lunch. You know. We all do that. So, I've been buying the morning paper with nickels in an effort to get enough room so I can drop more change in there and be comfortable. It has to do with some of my compulsions. No pennies either. I can't look at the copper mixing with the silver. So, I bought the paper with a handful of nickels and then pulled over to fill my gas tank. I swiped the credit card and began filling the tank, watching the numbers flip up towards fifty. So expensive. As I was doing this a man, who I instantly labeled as homeless, began rifling through the garbage a lane over from me. He plucked out a couple of plastic pop bottles. He nodded at me. I couldn't help but gauge the fact that he was filthy. He was also interested in watching the numbers flip on my gas order, and I know that he wante

I have not watched even a minute of Olympic coverage. Is that wrong? I do love sports, but not quite as much as I used to...but I never really got into the Olympic games. Especially the winter Olympics, I suppose. And it's not that I don't have a little interest in the hockey tournament, but I just haven't been available to see the USA play. Perhaps I will watch the game against Canada tomorrow, but then again, maybe not. And the amateur athletes that are competing in these games probably do deserve more of our attention than the pro sports teams, but a gold medal for curling? Wasn't one of the participants in the curling match in past games pregnant? Isn't it a game where the best sweepers win? And I just don't get the other sports where the judges make the decision on who wins. I suppose that I'd rather see it all play out and the clear winner and loser gets to be declared. Yet I have kept up with how the USA is doing and only because I g

There have been changes to the OSHA Hazard Communication Standard. For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, it's a safety standard that says those who work with chemicals in the workplace have the right to know how that can affect their health. Simple enough. Good law. Except they're changing it a bit to make it more of a global law. Now, chemicals will have pictures on the labels so that those who do not speak the language can also identify the hazards. Simple again. Should be easy to convey. Except it's not. "Why don't these people learn how to speak English?" Someone yelled angrily from the back row of one of my training classes. "Why should they if they live in China?" I asked. "But if they're here!" He yelled out. "They should speak English!" "It's global," I said, rather calmly. "That means around the world. Do you remember the globe?" Of course, that pissed

Sunday's Buffalo News front page headline was about the research being done to decide what to do about the Buffalo Bills new stadium problem. Can we please vote on this? Straight up. Should the Bills spend eight hundred million to one billion dollars to build a stadium? I think we should get the vote. After all the article spoke about the people who would need to sacrifice to make this happen. The citizens of the county are expected to foot the bill. I don't want to. I'd vote a million times NO! Why? 1). They stink. 2). The NFL is a cash cow. They don't pay taxes. And we're supposed to sacrifice? 3). Their commissioner just pulled down $44 million a year. And we fight about raising minimum wage a nickel? 4). They stink again. Nary a playoff game in 15 years. 5). Their players make millions no matter how bad they stink. 6). 7 dates in a $800 million dollar home? 7). The NFL might be fixed. 8). They blackout games if they don't sell

Thinking a lot about baseball these days. Sadly I'm considering retired Yankees. Jeter is going after Rivera, Andy and Jorge have gone recently. O'Neill left after 2001 and that one is still tough. As was Bernie leaving and Donnie Baseball before that. All tough to watch the sport after each of them left. And in my mind's eye I still see them as they were on the field. Big, fast, strong and able to handle the 95 MPH heater. Nice shot of Mantle and Maris, huh? That photo was from 1961. I wasn't even here yet, but I remember those days because I've read about them, watched movies and listened to stories. Everyone liked Mantle better. Yet I think Maris is a real figure in the history of baseball. He was a Yankee power who was being rooted against in his own park. People were okay with Mantle breaking Ruth's record, but Maris wasn't considered worthy. He did it anyway. And then the commish put the kabash on it saying that they'd add an

Was listening to Opie and Anthony the other day and they were talking about being a sap for a girl. Given that we were coming up on Valentine's Day there was a lot of discussion about being young and liking a girl and being nervous about trying to reach out to her. We've all been there, right? I was a true sap for years and years. I'd get real nervous about asking a girl her name even. One Valentine's Day a college buddy stood with me at the mall and we handed out roses to every pretty girl that passed. That didn't work. And we all remember the excitement of buying a present for a crush and wondering what she thinks as she takes a look at it. "I can't accept this," is not a great response. And, of course, I've landed the beautiful Kathy Fazzolari so I must have had some charm, right? She doesn't think so, of course, but it's difficult for her to tell me how lame I was, am, or will be because, after all, she did marry me.

...and homicide is a crime. How do you feel when the person in front of you in line at a convenience store, a bank line, or a pharmacy is lost, dazed and confused about going about their business? It's a tad irritating, isn't it? I stood behind an elderly man on line at the pharmacy the other day. Let me tell you, this dude had nothing going on the rest of the day. I honestly considered smashing him over the head with something. This was his exchange: Man: I need to pick up my scripts. Clerk: Your name? Man: What? Clerk: The name on the prescription. Man: Tom Clerk: Full name? Man: (Laughing) Oh yeah, sorry. Guess that would help! Clerk: (Waiting) Me: (Seething) Man: Jones Clerk: I'll be right back. Man: I may have two here. Clerk: Same name Man: What? Clerk: Are they both for Tom Jones? Man: Both what? (Laughs again) Oh yeah! Clerk: I'll be right back. She walks away. The man turns to me and says hi. I nod. He picks up a ey

Say it isn't so. I have the ESPN Alert on my phone and I was writing a report when the familiar tone rang. I saw the first two words: Derek Jeter And my heart sunk. I thought about his ankle. Did he rip it again? Nope. It was worse. The kid is setting up this as his last year. So much ran through my mind. --- Thinking about 1996 and asking my brother, Jeff - "They're going to try and win with a rookie shortstop?" They did. --- The 2000 World Series against the Mets was tied at 1. The Mets had Leiter going against El Duque, at home in Game 3. It was a match-up that favored the Mets. For the first time all year Torre batted Jeter first. "Why is he batting first?" I yelled. Jeter homered on the first pitch Leiter threw. Game over. --- The 2001 Playoffs against the A's when he caught the relay throw at the dugout and tossed it back-handed to Jorge to get the runner scoring from third. It's still the greatest play I've ev

Michael Sam is a gay football player. He is heading out of college and into the pro's if he's drafted. He had to announce his sexual orientation for the world to consider. I get all of that. It's sort of a non-story for me because I don't care. Not that I don't care about him or his rights. I think it's pretty short-sighted of non-gay people to judge gay people, but I am also mindful that gay people make up 4% of the population. You wouldn't really know that by how many gay people appear in the sitcom world. Again, it is not for me to judge, and that's my official proclamation, but when I heard the news about it, I also considered that the world has become a truly different place. I thought about my boys. Jake is usually up and moving around real early as well. The best mornings are when we have a couple of moments to chat about the sports story of the day before we leave. The other morning he popped into the room as the Sam story was get

February is sort of a month of drudgery for me. Yeah...the stupid weather. So tired of getting dressed for the cold. So tired of walking out in the cold to start the car. So tired of scraping the ice off and then listening to the weatherman tell me that in three or four days it's gonna' get up to a balmy 15. Then the news guy says: "Get out the beach chairs!" And they laugh and laugh and laugh. (Idiots). I also do a lot of driving around and then standing in front of rooms of people to do training. I've been doing it for a lot of years so the course material comes to me quickly...and I try to have fun with it. "You can work on your stand-up," one buddy said. I definitely do that. Yet with the driving and the nights in the hotels, I also do a lot of considering. Always considering things. My favorite song off the Bruce record is 'Hunter of Invisible Game.' It seems like Bruce always writes a song or two about being down in

So it's been 50 years since the Beatles came over to America. One of the coolest things now is to listen back and to imagine those days. Howard Stern has a lot of the old rock stars on now and they talk about it all...every single romp and drug-fueled song. I still think The Beatles would go to number one if they debuted today. Their music struck a chord with the people. The melodies were simple a lot of the time. Love was the word. They were out of the ordinary. Donovan was the latest old rock guy on Howard last week. He told a story about walking through a room and coming across McCartney. He asked Sir Paul what he had. "Just this," McCartney said, and he began strumming the guitar for "Yellow Submarine." And my mind played a trick. I thought of my sister Corinne singing the chorus as perhaps a ten-year-old. She had changed up the words. "We all live in a yellow stinky sock, a yellow stinky sock, a yellow stinky sock." And we had laug

Stumbled across a post that my beautiful niece, Andrea wrote about trying to make a batch of homemade sauce for a few of her friends. It made me smile. I immediately started to answer, telling her that I could help her make perfect sauce each time...like her Grandpa used to make...but then it occurred to me that she most likely had a conversation or two about it with my brother. Now I swear that all of my brothers and sisters would say the same thing: 'Dad's voice is ringing in our ears as we start the sauce.' The couple of sentences that I think of each and every time are like mantras: "Cut the onion up real small." and "Don't burn the garlic as it simmers in the pan with the olive oil." And, of course, the simmering garlic and onion in the good olive oil is the best aroma in the world. The other big for certain is pork. "Pork gives it the best flavor," Dad had said. And then the right tomatoes. Fresh tomatoes are

I had a real comical conversation with the massage therapist who has had to work with me through the hip problems, knew of the surgery, and had wondered how it all worked out. I finally went back there because truth be told, I'm really not ready for prime-time. My legs feel like slabs of marble after a week of work. "So when can you go back to work?" She asked. "12 weeks after the surgery," I said. "So end of February," she said. "Yeah, except I went back the first week in January." She laughed. "And how's the physical therapy going?" "It went well," I said. "Let me guess, until the first week in January." I smiled. Yet there's not a lot that can be done in the situation. At least I don't see the way out. People need to go back to work. The world doesn't stop until you're back to 100%. "An injury like you had takes at least a year to come back from," the the

There were a couple of baseball stories making the rounds this week. They were on polar opposite ends of the spectrum for me. A little known fact is that for three years there...1973, 74, 75, I was primarily an Atlanta Braves fan. (Yeah, Larry...it's true...but I had no love for them at all when the Yankees were beating the piss out of them in those World Series in the 90's). I had the Yankees whispering in my ear, of course (Dad and Grandpa) but it was all about Hammerin' Hank then...and Ralph Garr, and Dusty Baker, and Davey Johnson. Loved those teams. Hank is 80 years old. What a classy dude. He was lambasted because he was black and chasing a white man's record. He was called every name in the book. There were death threats. You ever hear a bad word ever attributed to him? I know his whole story. He grew up in Mobile, Alabama. He was raised by his Mom...who he cherished. He held the bat wrong. He just kept hitting. Hit his way out of poverty.

It's a little late in coming because I had to wait for my heart to settle down after the exciting game. Joe Namath getting picked off on the coin toss was the best play of the game. But let's review. Queen Latifah and the opera chick sang the hell out of the opening songs. Peyton Manning had the ball snapped over his head. Peyton threw a pick. Seattle ran back a kickoff. A receiver fumbled. Peyton threw another one. There was a glimmer of hope as the Broncos down 22-0 were driving just before the half. If they scored a touchdown and got the 2-point conversion I would win $3,000. Didn't happen. Then Bruno Mars came out and sang the one song I know by him. Is his real name Bruno Mars? Then a half dozen white guys without shirts busted in and started playing guitars that weren't plugged in and screaming something. That went on for quite sometime. "What the hell is this?" I asked my beautiful wife. There was a little excitement in t

Not sure why I still get rattled by the death of a Hollywood star, but it always seems shocking to me that someone at the top of their field, being paid boatloads of money, suffers the same sort of fate that the working class slobs do. I guess in hindsight the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman isn't all that shocking. He was a fine actor, to be sure, but brilliance in a single phase certainly doesn't grant you power over things such as addiction. To die on the bathroom floor, in your underwear, with a needle sticking out of your arm sort of takes away from the shine of the brilliance, however. Yet isolation comes in many forms, and to people in all walks of life. It killed Elvis. And Michael Jackson. And Whitney Houston. And Heath Ledger. And Marilyn Monroe. And on and on and on. Yet those of us who watch from afar think all sorts of things like: "Dude had it made! Why would he piss it all away?" 'Cause it ain't any different for any of u

Often times I run across some interesting people in my line of work. There are plenty of really hardworking guys who are just trying to make their way. There are some bums, for sure, and those types are really easy to spot. I think a lot about something my Dad said to me as I graduated from college all those years ago. "You're gonna' meet a lot of people out there. You'll be smarter than a lot of them. Stay away from the other ones." Dad was joking, of course, but there's some truth to it. There's a real intellectual who is an oversight to a few of my clients. He's just a smart guy, but he also has a sense of humor. He's sort of enjoyed watching my act. Yet, he also deserves watching. He's really bright. The guy was visiting recently and he handed me a poker chip that said: "Responsibility: I accept it." "I enjoy giving those to people," he said. "Responsible people." I set the chip aside and nodd

I've always been a fan of Woody Allen's movies. Each year my beautiful wife will mix in the latest Allen effort, sprinkling it in among the romantic comedies where Jennifer Aniston or JLo or Katherine Heigel struggles to find a man who wants her. And Allen hardly ever disappoints. His movies are smart, funny, and filled with great actors who just want to work with him, for free. In other words, Hollywood loves him. Recently he received one of those lifetime achievement awards and during the presentation one of his kids sent a tweet asking if he was also being honored for sexually molesting one of the kids he was a step-father too. Yeah. We all know the story about Woody Allen's now wife. She used to be his step-daughter. And that is very creepy, but in one of those shrug-your-shoulders types of deals, Allen was sort of forgiven for his misdeed. (Think Ortiz' steroid use). Yet there is a real charge out there that sort of has also fallen by the wayside.

Whenever you think the ceiling on horrible behavior has been reached... Did you see the story about the woman in Phoenix, Arizona who allegedly tried to inject fecal matter and human waste into the IV of her recovering husband? Allegedly, Rosemary Vogel was in the room with her husband as he struggled to regain strength after his heart surgery. The woman must have had a bit of nursing training herself, but she wasn't quick enough. She was busted trying to inject the fecal waste into the saline drip. Why, writing that, did I feel as if I were suddenly getting a slight glimpse into my future? (I said it before Pops did). One of the healthcare professionals actually said that it's a first for the hospital as no one else has ever tried to off their spouse in such a manner. Really? That's a first? And what does the husband do now? Forgive and forget? "Remember when, after my open heart surgery, you tried to fill my IV with shit? Wasn't that funny?&qu

So despite all the griping that I've done about the NFL in the past few months I have to watch the Super Bowl, right? I have a whole bunch of squares! And a friend of mine posted about the city of the losing team being so damn heartbroken on Sunday night and Monday morning. Interesting that someone from Buffalo would commiserate rather than think of the great feelings of the winning city, huh? Yeah...we know the feeling of dread that comes with the Monday loss following the Super Bowl. Of course, we have eased the pain in the past 15 years by just skipping the playoffs altogether, but that's another story. Thank God they accepted our tax donation this year and are sticking around! But this is strictly about the game. I really don't wanna' root for Seattle. I'm not a big Marshawn Lynch fan. You see he went beast mode on the field here, but he was also a beast out in public. I think he has a DUI, a gun charge, a hit-and-run, and a swiping of money of

My O.C.D. is a rather effective tool to get the laundry done around the house. There's no such thing as starting the laundry and letting it carry over to the next day. No way. We get it started and finished all on the same day, and we get it done, brought back to the rooms and in my case, put back in the dresser drawers before the day is done. When I talk "We" I mean my partner Sam and me. And as I thought about the laundry on Friday evening as I was folding it, I also thought about the fact that I got away relatively laundry free for the first twenty years of my life. My Mom was a machine. She'd wash clothes just as soon as we got them off our backs, and perhaps that's why I'm so effective at it now. Poor Mom was washing eight people's clothes...the damn machine must never have gone off. And she did it all as well. She folded it an put it all away. Mom had one interesting laundry rule too. If money was left in the pants pocket and it came