Thoughts of a Common Man

So we have opening day and it's actually beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Still alive in your NCAA brackets? I sort of was as the weekend moved on. Yet the greatest tourney in sports drove me to the brink of utter aggravation and back. Sam was my constant companion and dinner talk has been all about it. Just a tremendous amount of fun and Sam will begin the count down to March Madness as soon as this one is in the books. Saw the movie Dallas Buyers Club over the weekend too, and what a horrific plight in regard to AIDS back then and most likely still now. I understand when the lifestyle choices bring consequences, especially now that there's so much information available, but I'm never real comfortable when a segment of society is considered disposable. The acting was excellent and we were well into the movie before I was told that Jared Leto was playing the cross-dressing drug addict. God, he's pretty. Yet the underlying theme of the movie...the big pha

Thank God! We made it! No more pretending to think hockey is even remotely interesting. No more faking that the NFL isn't scripted. (Do you know the NFL doesn't pay taxes?). It's baseball season! 162 glorious games that stretch three hours each night. Michael Kay is back. Derek Jeter is back. The 27-Time World Champion Greatest Team in the History of Organized Sports are recharged and ready to roll. I feel that a great friend has returned from a long, long trip that resulted in absolute boredom. All is right with the world. The Yankees are back, baby! Here we go: I'll start with the stupid National League where the pitchers still bat. NL East Winner: Washington Nationals. NL Central Winner: St. Louis Cardinals NL West: Los Angeles Dodgers The two NL wild cards: Atlanta and San Francisco League MVP - Hanley Ramirez of the Dodgers National League Champions: Los Angeles Dodgers American League East Winners: The 27-Time World Champ

About twenty years ago I wrote a book called Waldorf & Juli . In that book Waldorf was at a baseball game with his father and they were talking about how fast life goes and how sometimes it all appears to be just an episode in breaking down. Waldorf's Dad explains that even though he's now an old man, he still feels like a young man, and that he can't believe how much the breakdown devastates. He tells Waldorf: At the end of our lives we all have half an ounce of pain and an ounce of gold in our ledger. He asks Waldorf to close his eyes and imagine Mickey Mantle (who was still alive when I wrote the book). What do you see in your mind when you think of Mickey Mantle? He's a big, strong man swatting home runes and running like a deer, right? Well, Mantle is actually a broken down old man now. He can't run. He can't throw. He can't hit a ball a hundred feet. But he did it once, and he did it so well that it's how he will be remembered fore

I love when I wake up with a specific song in mind. On Wednesday morning I was awake a good couple hours before I needed to be up and I had to be up by 5:30...so it was just plain strange to be thinking about Johnny Cash and the song, Hurt , in particular. The song was originally done by Nine Inch Nails, but I never heard their version. It was Johnny's version that I loved and it was the one playing in my head. The writing is flat-out great. Just wonderful lyrics and Johnny sings it hauntingly. The 'empire of dirt' reference is specifically significant to me. The narrator is in some real pain, folks! One other Johnny Cash note: Years ago I was at a Book Expo in New York. Johnny had just died. His kid was signing books right next to me. He had written something about his Dad, of course, and I had a chance to shake his hand and talk a little about the Man in Black. He signed a poster, a book and gave me a tee-shirt. All very cool items and very generous of him. I asked

Back in 1997 I received a letter from Ralph Wilson thanking me for helping with the construction work at the stadium. (It was one of hundreds of the same letter sent to a lot of construction management people). It was a letter that certainly impressed Matt a couple of years later as it was in a frame with a shot of the stadium, but it was weird for me because that was just about the time the Bills lost their glory with me. You see, Jim Kelly had just retired, and I had always been an unabashed Kelly fan. Then and now. I've met Jim a few times through the years and I'm really saddened by his fight with cancer. It's not enough to say he's tough and he'll battle through. He has a beautiful family and he's much too young to be in such a fight to stay alive. I'm just sad for all of the Kelly's as he awaits surgery. Yet, I wasn't in much of a mood in 1997 as the Bills fixed up the Ralph as everyone was starting to call it. Kelly had just retired. Ther

Before we left for the NCAA games on Saturday I was talking with the boys. Jake was busting Sam's chops a little bit because Sam's passion team, the Villanova Wildcats, were playing the last game of the night and we'd be there. "When they lose you're gonna' be weeping in your seat," Jake said. "I might," Sam said. So I told the boys about begging my Mom to take us to a Sabres Playoff Game back in 1978 or so. The Sabres were good enough to beat the mighty Islanders and the game was huge as the Sabres were down 2-1 in the best of seven. They had to win. They needed me there to cheer them on. And bless my poor mother because she drove us out there and sat there, yawning, through three periods and nearly two full overtimes before... ...Nystrom of the Islanders let a harmless shot go from just inside the line. It went in. There was a collective groan and then total silence as the Islanders celebrated on the ice. I was nearly weepin

The best thing about not talking to my brother Jim for a few days is when he says: "You gotta' hear this." Then he starts in on the story and before long I'm laughing until my sides ache and the best part of it all is that he's usually front and center of the story doing something that seems insane as he tells it, but is absolutely correct after I get my mind around it. He's usually right. His presentation doesn't always match up with how I'd go about getting my way. But that's all right. And through the years he's battled back. Every single day. When things go wrong he throws more hard work at it. When things go wrong for someone he loves, he's always there to help. Always there. And while he's there fixing, building, repairing or remodeling, he'll usually cook you something when he's done. It's amazing, actually. Every once in awhile my kids will ask me for one of the Uncle Jim stories. They kno

My God...all I hear when I close my eyes are the sounds of sneakers on the court. Just one basketball game after another for us this weekend. I'm not even sure if my beautiful wife is still around or not...haven't seen her in awhile. But Sam...I've seen him. Which leaves me to wonder, what is going on in the world these days? 1). They still haven't quite figured out what happened to the plane. I listened to all the theories, feeling a sense of dread throughout. I just keep thinking about the poor people left behind by those on the plane. Can you imagine that pain? 2). The weather still sucks here in Buffalo. Every single time you think we're gonna' turn the corner it freaking snows. The snow was flying on Sunday morning...not a lot, mind you, but one flake seems like a lot now. It's just been such a long journey to spring. Damn. 3). Read about the suicide of Mick Jagger's girlfriend in New York. L'Wren Scott was viewed as a rich socialite

So I see we lost a "holy" man over the weekend. Fred Phelps. You may not know the name but you probably know of his actions and deeds. He was the leader of the Westboro Church. You know the one. It's the church that preaches love and faith and hope and punctuates all of it with... ...absurd hate. Under Fred's direction they protested at funerals of military men who died in action. They brought hate to the highest of levels when speaking of gay men and women. Fred was intent on stomping on people's right to live their freaking lives as they saw fit to live it. All in the name of the demented image of God that he had in his silly, little mind. I don't know of people that I despise more than people like him. And on the other hand, he's certainly free to worship or spout anything that he wants to. I'm not hypocritical that way. But when it spills over into people's every day lives and becomes part of the fabric of a communit

Ever since October when Sam stood, on the verge of tears, asking me to give him my credit card info for the tickets to the NCAA games in Buffalo, I knew that this week in March was going to be special. Way more special than Christmas for him! And it hasn't disappointed at all. On Tuesday the Grape Apes assembled to pick teams out of the hat so we could bet a little. Choosing teams on a scrap of paper was my brother Jeff's idea and I swear to God, my heart doubles in size when I hear the first good friend walk through the door at 7 p.m. on the Tuesday before the tourney picks. Thank you Jeff, Pops, Johnny (and the beautiful girls), Millie, Chuck...and Sam....for keeping that alive. Sam has stood in Jeff's spot and let me tell you, he feels the spirit. He talks the same smack as Jeff. He makes us laugh too. He loves the tourney as much as his Uncle did. Just as much. Matt accompanied Sam to the four games on Thursday and it pained me to be at work instead of in th

Damn, that's a great cover! The books arrived this week and I posted on Facebook to announce their arrival, and a strange thing happened. A whole lot of people messaged me to get a copy. And it really amazed me. I've been doing it for quite awhile, and I'm confident in the book (I loved doing it) but there's so much doubt in the moments when it is going to be sent out to the public. I've always said that the strange part about writing is that it's a very lonely task that when completed, results in the writer having to be the exact opposite person of the same human being who was locked in a room alone writing it. But it's still really cool...and I enjoy it more now that I am not worried about how many copies it sells or if I am or am not considered a real author . Yet...it still makes me laugh a little... I was in the center aisle of the local grocery store trying to sell copies of the first book. The book was horrible. The experience was rid

I must admit that I've grown a bit weary of basketball on the big television in our living room. I know for sure that my beautiful wife has. "Come on! Villanova is on!!" Sam has been yelling all year. "This is the only television that gets it!!" So, we've watched a lot of college hoops. Not that it will help any of us win the bracket in the NCAA Tournament, and that's because it's the best tourney in all of sports. Yep...better than the World Series. Way the frig' better than the Super Bowl. (Do you know the NFL doesn't pay taxes?) And that's because they are just kids...and the tourney mixes the little guys against the big dogs...and every once in awhile there are super upsets that end with a long shot as time expires. My boys are thoroughly into all the gambling that goes into it. We all get our geek on, using red and black pens to circle the winners and losers. Yet Sam is ALL IN!! Reminds me so much of my brothe

Some heavy hearts around here on Sunday and it was a really weird thing. During the 2nd ride around the neighborhood for the day I turned to look at Melky as she was in the passenger seat. It looked like the side of her face was swollen, and her eye was drooping a little bit. I asked everyone to take a quick look. I've been known to make mistakes before. "Her face is definitely swelling up," Sam said. We hung out for a little while just looking at Melky and she was eating up the sudden attention. Two hours later her face looked like Joe Frazier's after the last Ali fight. Her eyes were just about closed. Her entire face had swelled to gigantic proportions. "We should give her a Benadryl," Kathy said. Even though it was close to bed time I wasn't about to just go to bed and watch Melky die in the middle of the night, and judging by how quickly she was deteriorating... "Call the Vet," I said. "Let me know the address."

Read an article the other day about a man who shot a teenager in his home, to death, in an effort to protect his daughters. (Happened in Texas, I believe). It's the kind of story that those who talk about protecting their homes from intruders are sort of proud of (which is really strange). Except one of the girls knew the boy that was in the room...and in her bed...yet when Dad came in with the gun ready...she claimed not to know the kid. So Dad shot him a few times. Sad, sad, sad. Yet reading one of those stories wouldn't be complete without reading the comments listed below. "F%&K yeah!!!" The first guy wrote. "Exactly what needed to be done in that situation!" That comment was jumped all over and an argument ensued. "What would you do, you chicken-shit liberal?" The guy asked. "Let someone in your house to rape your daughters?" So, the facts were going by the wayside. Now the kid had broken a window to get in, rig

We were watching the movie Nebraska on Saturday night. We should've been at a party or two to celebrate St. Patrick's Day and my wife's birthday, but her knee is shot and my feet are swollen. Yeah. Quite the pair. And we were gonna' get our drink on. Yeah, right. Anywhoha... Back to the movie. The elderly wife in the film (which is good) never stops picking at the old guy. He just can't do anything right, and she tells him at every turn. "I'm glimpsing the future," I said. Yet there was a beautiful scene where the wife leans in and kisses the old guy, and you can tell she loves him. "I don't wanna' be on the verge of 50," Kathy said. I thought of Grandpa Fuzzy on the verge of 80. "Geez, Gramps," I'd said. "80 is a long time. I don't know if I wanna' be 80." (I was young and dumber). "You do when you're 79," he said. So, thinking of that, 49 is no big deal, and

They're showing a commercial now that has Scooby and the gang chasing the creeper. I smiled through it on Saturday morning as I remembered that it was Jake's favorite one of all-time, but that it scared him to no end. I used to say: THE CREEPER In a low voice and his eyes would pop clear out of his head. It's so hard to consider those days and not wish they were that young again, even though I was driven completely up the freaking wall by watching the same cartoon a hundred times. Jake got up early to head to the Irish parade. (Yeah...Fazzolari is a nice Irish name). It was a grand scheme he designed with his friends. "I need eight bucks," he said. I handed him a twenty, thinking about his wide-CREEPER-eyes as I did so. "We're gonna' ride the bus. I need it in singles," he said. "So get change," I answered. "A twenty is better than eight." He just glared back. And I knew that Kathy wasn't enamored

Seems like all I've been talking about all week are airplanes. Fantasy baseball draft #1 is in the books. Sam is getting all fired up for the NCAA College Hoops Tourney and the 27-Time World Champion Greatest Franchise in the History of Organized Sports: The New York Yankees are gearing up for #28. The new book hasn't yet arrived, but soon! And all I can think about are freaking airplanes. What the hell happened on the other side of the world? The plane just flat-out disappeared? And while there have been some wild ideas passed back and forth the chief concern, of course, is for the people who were on-board. Are they safe? Did aliens scoop in and grab the plane? Are we talking terrorists again, or was it a crash landing somewhere? Of course, the media is all over it as they should be. But I wonder if the wild theories are what's really necessary. The health and welfare of people on the airplanes is most important, right? It's nothing but a trag

The other part of traveling is that unless you're home in comfort you spend a lot of time wishing: Wishing you were somewhere else. Seinfeld did a bit a long time ago about people wanting to 'get out' and once they're out wanting to 'get home.' It's true. We spend a lot of time wishing we were somewhere else. "I wanna' go home!" "I just wish this would end!" But we were bustling through the air at the high rate of speed and as the plane struggled to get through clouds and heavy rain I looked straight out at the storm and it struck me that I sort of liked the turbulence. I scanned the worried looks on some of the other passengers. We were getting tossed around a bit. The seat belt sign flashed. The captain talked about being through the 'rough patch' in just a few minutes and promised that it would 'smooth out' soon. Thought about life and God there for a minute. Of course it would stop. I always w

The flying experience really does suck. I had a crying baby behind me and a lady who didn't stop talking for more than three minutes of the two hour flight beside me. She smiled at me widely when I sat down but I put my headphones on and cranked the music up and closed my eyes. I had to turn the music way up as she turned her ample ass to me and talked the ear off of the poor lady on the other side of her. I feigned sleep for the entire flight, afraid that she'd tell me her life story. And it got even weirder on the next leg of the trip. We were dropped in concourse B in Atlanta and the flight to Buffalo was leaving from Concourse C...twenty minutes after we arrived. If you've never been to the Atlanta airport you have no idea how big it really is. I was nervous getting off the plane as I certainly didn't want to miss the last flight to Buffalo because there was a blizzard on the way. I miss the Tuesday night flight and I might not get home until Friday.

My sister once gave me a photo of Babe Ruth swinging and missing: Every strike brings me closer to my next home run. I love that photo. It's not those who fail in life who don't get ahead...it's about failing...faster. We all fail. Those of us who fail faster and figure out the way to succeed quicker ...are those who flourish. Make sense? I went to my son's playoff basketball game on Saturday. I'd like to say I enjoy such games, but I don't. It's great to see the kids play ball, but there's so much negativity around all of it. Parents yelling at refs; coaches screaming at kids; everyone acting as if they are going to be successful or complete failures depending upon what happens. It drives me crazy. I want to stand up and yell out: Stop! They're supposed to be having fun!! But I went. And I smiled at Sam shooting in warm-ups. I clapped when he scored and grabbed a rebound and when he wiped the dust from his shoes as he stood

The trip to Kansas City was absolute misery. The airline had one person working between two stations. I missed her by two minutes at the first station. Her descriptive sign said: "The agent will return shortly." I honestly thought she was in the can. So I lingered too long. And by the time I made it to the 2nd station, she had just left to go back to the first one. We may have passed one another in the hall. "Wow, you have bad timing," she said when we finally had the chance to meet...after my plane had left. And I'll spare you the sordid details...but there were so many freaking people in the Atlanta airport that I just wanted to scream. EVERYBODY GO HOME!! CLIFFORD NEEDS TO GET TO KANSAS CITY!!!! I finally made it up to the room. It took me 18 hours to travel by plane. It's only a 16 hour drive. And of course, the two hour time change had me awake by 3:15 central time. I met even more total strangers during the course of the early

Whenever you hear a story about a mother driving her kids into the water in an effort to kill them, you're instantly shocked and horrified. It's the same with the mass shootings and the mass stabbings and the mass bombings. Just straight out mental deficiencies. There are no outward signs of such homicidal behaviors? Of course there must be... ...right? Yet I was listening to a guy on the radio the other day. He sounded like a reasonable enough guy and he explained that he was severely manic depressive and that while he controlled it sometimes... ...there were real dark days. He spoke of being under the influence of 12 shots of alcohol even though he hadn't had any. That was what his mind felt like to him on the dark days. He spoke of not caring if he hurt those he normally loved...let alone total strangers. And that's what we don't get, right? We judge the crazy actions of others as crazy and we shout from the mountain tops that they need to

65 years Yogi & Carmen were together. She died this past week. Poor Yogi. And yes, I chose him in a Mets outfit because that was when I first learned about Yogi - during the 1973 World Series - we were rooting for them over the A's because Dad told us too. Because of Yogi. And he was a great Yankee of course, but this is about more than his 10 World Series rings. (Yeah...10!!). It's about a much greater accomplishment. Living with a freaking woman for 65 years!! Just kidding, there as well. I just have a special place in my heart for people who are together that long. They become a part of one another. They are not quite complete if the other isn't around. And it's sort of sad, isn't it? That one continues forward alone for a time. 65 years they were married. What a beautiful life. And I know a guy who golfed with Yogi for a day and said he was sort of a sourpuss. You can't base it all off one day, right? But old Italian gu

I had in the back of my mind that perhaps I could release the new book on a special day. March 8 is a special day for me...it's my baby sister's birthday. So I stepped through the final hoops and here you go: The book is ready! My heart feels full as I write this because I have nothing but love for the project. I wrote it strictly for my readers and I was prompted by a great buddy - Grape Ape, Jeff Popple - who told me: "Write me something, bitch!" Here you go, Pops...and Kim! Kim needed this... And that's why I am smiling. Because it's been a great relationship. The book is fun. There are a lot of swear words...that's the way people talk! But there is a lot more love. And faith. And hope. And Bruce!!! I hope the message finds a place in your heart. Remember: We search for redemption and hope when we are in our darkest hours and every once in a while we find what we are looking for. You helped me find some. Thank yo

Happy Birthday to my beautiful sister Carrie Lynn. The best days are the ones when I get to chat with my siblings about nothing. Like Bruce and where the next tour is going to be. (There's a present for you). And Carrie called me out of the blue last week to tell me a story about the kids and how wide Carrie's eyes got when she was telling a story. Tony and Paige thought her wide eyes reminded them of me when I'm telling a story. (You've seen one Fuzzy you've seen them all). So we chatted about where I was seeing Bruce next and Carrie had been so busy she didn't know he was coming around. A half an hour later we all got a text: "Woo-hoo! Seeing Bruce with the kids in Virginia Beach!!" And it's crazy, but none of us see enough of one another anymore. We're all working hard. We all have busy kids and active lives. But the love is certainly alive and well. Woo-hoo!! Happy Birthday, Carrot!

Didn't Sylvester Stallone teach anyone the lesson in Rocky IV? Seems like we have a problem brewing in Russia again, huh? I don't know a lot about it other than I get a bunch of updates on my phone about who is threatening who. Of course there are also statements about it on Facebook. Everyone has an opinion. If you hate Obama he's certainly handling the situation with absolute incompetency. If you don't hate him, perhaps it all seems to be handled correctly thus far. I had fun the other day when someone posted a photo of George W. saying: "He'd know what to do!" I wrote: "Attack Iraq?" I didn't bother to get into the discussion that followed. Hit and run. That's the best way to handle political discussions. Why get all in a mess over it? We can't control it, right? And Putin is a terrorist, right? Years ago Mandela was painted as a terrorist and Bin Laden and Hussein were glorified as friends of the USA.

That is the trouble, right? We always think there's enough time in every day to chase the things we want to chase. It's been a tough week for thoughts of such things. Ran out of time for people that I loved. Running out of time during what seem to be eternal work days in the freezing freaking cold (I swear to God that groundhog needs to be shot for this shit...where were all the lunatics with the guns that day?) And feeling like you're running on a treadmill. Never quite getting there. Battling so many things. Just wanting to rest a little. It'll be all right after I rest. I'm pretty good at sharing my feelings with the one's that I love...usually...but I got sick and missed my brother-in-law Chuck's birthday last week...sorry buddy...love you. I haven't talked to the Grape Ape's in awhile...love 'em all...everyday. And my brothers and sisters and crazy brothers and sisters in laws... ...You know. The time is always

I spend an awful lot of time crowing about how I never get sick. Except when I do. Sam was sick first, I'm told, but my beautiful wife was the first person I saw showing signs. But I wouldn't get it. I'm ten feet tall and bullet-proof. Damn, it hit me like a ton of bricks. So, take some time and rest, right? That's what needs to be done in such a situation. Except I couldn't. I was scheduled to be a co-presenter at a course for 60 people or so at a place a couple of hours from home. So I left on Sunday night after pasta and a nap. Just the drive was grueling, but the thinking being that I could get a good night's rest close to the site and be ready to do the training. Except I couldn't. I was awake in the hotel at 2:30. There's not a lot that can be done from 2:30 until 6 in the morning, but I couldn't sleep either. Too sick. I should call them and apologize, I thought. I can't go like this . Except I did. "You

I still can't believe it. It still hurts so much. It never really leaves my mind. 5 years without my bro. It's the only time when I'm really truly lost for words. Miss you, pal. Every 10 minutes. Unfathomable.

I really love this song by Snow Patrol. Recently I was driving along and it came on. Halfway through I was captured by the beauty of it. A tremendous love song. Just tremendous. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol We'll do it all Everything On our own We don't need Anything Or anyone If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? I don't quite know How to say How I feel Those three words Are said too much They're not enough If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we're told Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into life Let's waste time Chasing cars Around our heads I need your grace To remind me To find my own If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world? Forget what we’re told Before we get too old Show me a garden that's bursting into life All that I am All that I ever

The above photo was from a trip back about ten years ago to the Six Flags Amusement Park at Darien Lake. We used to go up for a long weekend each year and have a blast, camping, cooking out, drinking beer. The Grape Apes went along, my buddy Jeffy and Chris Miller...who is in between Matt and me in the photo. We all loved the trip and I especially enjoyed not having a lot to do on that weekend. So my wife decided we didn't need to do that anymore. Anywhoha... On this particular day, Chris kept talking about getting shot into the air on the catapult above the lake. I wasn't real keen on being swung just inches from the water, but the beer was making me relax. The big problem was that three of us had to go. That's how Matt got involved. Chris disappeared for a moment and returned with the tickets. I know the ride was pricey, but it didn't matter, once the tickets were purchased we had to go. I miss getting dizzy from drinking beer. I was real dizzy as t

I was sitting in a meeting on Friday afternoon about 100 miles away from home when my cell phone vibrated and flashed on the table. (Someone turned a flashing light on my phone settings when I first got it and I'm too lazy to turn it off. If my phone vibrates it looks like there's a plane landing). The guy running the meeting wondered if I needed to grab the call. "No, I don't give a %$&* anymore," I said. I'd hit my quota for the week. The guy laughed. And yes, there's a real desire to answer everything every two minutes. During the evening on Friday the Sabres traded away their goalie, Ryan Miller, so the phone was blowing up. (I hope he can handle the plane ride to St. Louis and a game within a few days, but he will, that courageous bastard). Yet...I was beat to shit. I set everything aside and went to sleep. And for one reason or another I dreamed about O.J. Simpson as an actor. I'm not sure he was really in the movie sc