Thoughts of a Common Man

We all have choices in life. In fact, most of what happens to us is a direct result of the choices we make. Very rarely does the world reach out and grab us and pull us asunder. Many times we do that to ourselves. I've always loved this Mellencamp song. It has a great beat and he sings it in full voice, allowing you to see the action as it plays out, but in the end it's a powerful song about choices and doing things we instantly question. Hotdogs & Hamburgers Drivin´ down on a dry summer´s day Old Route 66 and I was just a kid Met a pretty little Indian girl Along the way Get her into my car And tried to give her a kiss I´ll give you beads and wampum Whatever it takes, girl To make you trade. She jumped into the back seat And she kinda flipped her lid She said, "you´re trying to get somethin´ for nothin'" "Like the pilgrims in the olden days" We rode for a while Till the sun went away And I realized it was a sort of an honor Bein

It isn't worth it, folks. I hate 4-day work weeks. Perhaps it's just my line of work. I have a number of clients, therefore, a whole bunch of bosses and when there is one less day of work a week the demands become greater. Everyone still wants the same amount of work done. Not to mention that it absolutely devastates my sense of routine which is important for me to function properly. You can't make me change my ways in mid-stream. So there's one day left...please pray for me to make it through, folks. My mother is also down for a couple of weeks as she is having her second hip replacement. What a remarkable lady. I swung by the hospital a mere 3 hours after she emerged from recovery. She was already smiling and laughing. She was talking about the food (they gave her cooked carrots which she hates more than any other food in the world - I share her sentiment). We talked about the books we were reading. We swapped stories about our dogs. She swore th

There was a moment on Wednesday afternoon when I stood in the center of one construction site and spun in a three-quarter circle and caught glimpses of at least five construction sites. Holy shit , I thought. Am I in Buffalo? And I know I am because I visit at least 8 sites every single day, and it's been that way for over 6 months now. We're playing like a big city. And it's good to see because the union halls are empty. The open shop contractors are busy. There are cranes all over the freaking place, and the buildings are going up. I've worked in the construction field all of my adult life. I started by pouring concrete and jack-hammering concrete. Through the years I've felt extremely comfortable wearing a hard hat and having profanity-laced conversations with guys who work really hard. And climb really high. And burn the hell up in the summer and freeze their asses off in the winter. Guys who eat off the roach coach and go to the bathroom in a f

And you've got to learn to live with what you can't rise above - Bruce Springsteen, Tunnel of Love The first time I heard that line I knew it was exceptional. The longer you go in life the more factual it becomes. There are just so many things that can truly tear you down. There are times when you take faith in people and are surprised by the things they do. And the options are simple, really. Learn to live with the disappointment... ...or.... Let it tear you down. I think about that line a lot because there are so many things in this life that will make you shake your head. Sometimes people just behave like you wouldn't expect them to behave, and while the disappointment is something you can feel...you really can't do much about it. So, you learn to live. I'm not quite sure why this line has been stuck in my head for the past couple of days, but it has been, and while there's an optimism involved I always thought it was a mostly pessimisti

Was sitting around on Sunday night...relaxed from a dish of pasta...waiting for the birthday celebration to start...when I saw a photo of a golf course on Twitter. "Damn. I want to golf," I thought. So I posted that sentiment of Facebook and Pops said, "Me too." I tried to round up a couple of more Apes, but they were already scheduled elsewhere. Then I got a tee time. We were in. Just a twosome. Now, full disclosure here. My legs are a real mess. I have two MRI's and four x-rays scheduled for next week. I've had a bone scan and nerve tests. It's really painful to walk. "Can you go?" Pops asked. "I go to work. Can it be worse than that? We have a cart." As soon as we confirmed everything I started to feel the excitement. I woke up on Monday morning with a feeling of dread and then it hit me: "I'm going golfing!" My first shot was nothing to brag about but it was down the middle. Pops' was in th

You see the kid in that photo? He's 21 today. Damn. That was fast. And Matt has done what he's supposed to do. He's been a Momma's Boy, clumsy, sometimes irritating, occasionally lazy, wimpy, loyal to sports teams who are losers, a Momma's boy, my main foil when I want to argue...did I say Momma's Boy? Yeah...big-time Momma's Boy. Yet he's always worked hard when he had to. He's done his best, and most of all he's a good person. And now he's a freaking man in some circles. Legally, he's a full-fledged adult. As a parent that seems really weird because you can remember every single moment, you know? (Here you go, Matt, all your secrets out). As a toddler he shit his pants when my beautiful wife wasn't around. I certainly didn't want to change him, but I had to. He basically walked into a wall for stitches. He swallowed a huge piece of roast beef and swallowed it without chewing because his teeth hurt and he

Started reading the Untethered Soul and while I'm not big on the self-help books I did like chapter one where it told me that the voice in my head that is shouting out tasks all day is basically being piloted by a real asshole. The voice is always critical, always doubtful, and rarely ever encouraging. I thought that was an interesting concept so I started paying more attention to the directions she was giving. (Given the above descriptions you just have to assume the voice is a 'she'). And it was true. Many of the negative things that were getting in could be dismissed with a loud 'shut-up' to the creeping voice that was doubtful, cynical, and not trusting. It leads to some weird scenarios however as half my day I'm stumbling around mouthing 'shut-up, shut-up, shut-up, shut the f%&^k up!' now. But it does make sense. If we can stop the down thoughts from controlling where we go and what we do we will certainly be happier. Now to sto

The Yanks were playing a double-header last week and a lifelong pal who also grew up on Shirley Road sent me the following text: "Bah, I miss the big house on the hill on days like today." He didn't really have to describe it for me, but he did. "Cukes and tomatoes and basketball and foose and beers and Yankees." I wrote back: "We were blessed." Then I added, don't forget my Dad screaming "Bah!" every three minutes. "He loved those days," my buddy said. And truer words have never been spoken. My father loved to be the master of ceremonies at those types of days. He'd cook enough food for every neighborhood child and adult. We'd chase each other around, playing spirited games of hoops, drinking beer as young adults, and fighting, laughing... ...just loving, I guess. Memorial Day Weekend always had a wrinkle in it too because that was when we had to plant the massive garden. As adults it was rough bec

It's a true honor that the Gow School bestows in Jeff's memory each and every year. This year two students, Todd Smith and Joseph Cendrowski were honored for showing a 'positive attitude and humor, no matter the circumstance'. It's the perfect award to be presented to honor Jeff. I was honored to present the award and unlike other years I was composed and ready to enjoy the other awards that were presented and shake the hands of the staff. They are beautiful people who enjoyed seeing Jeff each day. As I made my way to the stage a young man approached: "Mr. Fazzolari, can I have a moment?" he asked. He then proceeded to tell me that Jeff was one of the first people he met at the Gow School. "I was in the 8th grade then. I'm graduating this year. I've missed him every single day." "Me too," I said. "And I thank you for writing the book. I've read it about 7 times." We hugged. I presented the award

I don't know much about the horse racing game. My buddies have dragged me to betting on the races every once in awhile, but I never won much. Before the Derby one such pal sent me a text asking me if I'd like to bet with him. He just knew that California Chrome was going to win. I like a good bet. "I'm in," I texted back. A little while later he told me we won. We didn't bother to let it ride on the second race that might determine the Triple Crown. We forgot. But there's one more leg, right...before the unlikely horse captures the Triple Crown. "When's the next race?" I asked. "I have no idea." So there we are. Yet I also heard something else about California Chrome. If he wins the Triple Crown he will be a true target. People from all over the world will pay thousands and thousands of dollars for his offspring. How do I get in on that deal? I have some pretty good kids. Can I go out to stud? They sa

My fellow author buddy, Jeff Schober, who is a teacher at Frontier High School has me by every once in awhile to do a little talk and read from my book In Real Life. On Tuesday, I swung by on a quick break to hold court for one of his classes. I love when Jeff calls me for a number of different reasons: 1). We get a chance to spend a few moments talking about writing and the horror stories about the publishing companies. We don't spend much time on the publishing end of it...we both enjoy the writing process too much to gripe about it for more than a moment. 2). I get to meet his students. Jeff's class is always ready to listen and we share a few moments together. I love getting the look from students who are interested in the process and since I love attention...we all benefit. That's a good-looking class there, right? They were great! 3). I get to go back to my roots a little. There's always a question about what made me interested in writing and I get to

Confession time. There are a ton of female singers out there who really catch my ear. I was in a store the other day and Anne Murray was playing over the loudspeakers and I said to the late teen girl checking out my groceries that 'I love this song.' She crinkled her nose. But I do love Anne Murray and Carly Simon and Natalie Maines and Natalie Merchant and Jan Arden. Yet the one who makes me really stop and go 'wow' is Jewel...with a few of her songs. Her voice is so sexy. Her writing is terrific. She just doesn't seem to put out a whole lot. This is my favorite from her. Great imagery in this one and when she crows, 'Do you want me?' in that melodic chant it's crazy...just crazy. Great song. " Standing Still - Jewel" Cutting through the darkest night are my two headlights Trying to keep it clear, but I'm losing it here To the twilight There's a dead end to my left There's a burning bush to my right You aren't i

My buddy Gag shot me a text with the above photo attached and I had one simple response. I laughed. I laughed because that's my buddy Michael in the photo and he is sharing a prom dance with a pretty young girl. Of course he is. Because he's the King. Michael is a great guy. He's battling MD with everything he has and with unbelievable love and support from a tremendous family, but you'd never really know it because: There's Michael at a Phillies or Flyers game. Or there's Michael at the Run for the Kids at Disney. Or there's Michael just hanging out in beautiful South Jersey sharing a moment with his Mom and Dad. Yet you know why I laughed? 'Cause Michael is always surrounded by the pretty girls. And he's always smiling. Why the heck wouldn't he be? So. I bow to the King. Congrats, buddy. Glad you had a great time.

It's too much for our human brains to comprehend. And it really is, folks. Ben Sauer lost his battle this week here in Buffalo. He was a cute boy who's battle was waged in the entire community. His mother and father shared the death of their boy with the world. And man, it's heartbreaking, and something that I could barely look at every time it popped up on Facebook or in the news. This past week my son stood up straight and tall and posed for photos for his prom. We don't talk about it much, but his precious life was threatened at a very young age. Back then I can only remember asking: "Why?" Why is a life given and then threatened, or stripped away? What lesson can there possibly be in such heartbreak? But the reason why Ben's short life has had such an impact on our lives is simple to understand, really. It's about love. The tremendous love between parents and their children. The earth-shaking love between a child and his sibli

That woman was a star actress in around 1910. I bring it up because we went to the movies last night and saw the new Seth Rogan movie, Neighbors . It was funny, to be sure, and certainly wasn't meant to change the world, but I kept thinking of this woman as an actress and a true star. That situation has certainly disintegrated, huh? In the new movie there was a scene where the lead actress had some milk problems after recently giving birth. It was unbelievably crude while being pretty funny, actually. And I'm certainly not a prude. I love a good comedy, but I was cringing a bit at this one...and there have been a whole lot more that have made me cringe a little too. And I'm not complaining. It's all sort of gone that way. The comedy has to be over the top gross to be funny, I guess. I just kept thinking of the photo of this woman. You can't even see her ankles. She looks so elegant. The milk scene was certainly a tad less elegant. It just make

So, Jake went to the prom last night. Yeah...Jake. My child who's still supposed to be about 6 years old. He's prom age. A buddy asked about his date and I honestly didn't know. I knew there was angst leading up to all of it and I heard a couple of names tossed about. Kathy is deeply involved, of course, but I figured it was best to stay clear. Because I vividly remember my junior prom: Here it is. I'm not changing any names, so live with it. It's been 33 years! I was a very skinny, very scared, very sarcastic kid with a whole bunch of close friends. The problem with the prom was we thought it to be a major, life-changing event and we just had to go with the girls that we "loved." Quickly. I was supposed to go with Kellie. My greatest friend in the world, (the back-stabbing bastard) Jeff was supposed to go with Carolyn. Al was supposed to go with Pam...and on and on and on. There were a lot of 'supposed to's' in other words.

The Donald Sterling interviews are actually cruel, don't you think? The embattled Clippers owner was interviewed by Anderson Cooper the other day and it was actually painful to listen to. Donald is a bitter old man and he just can't figure out how bashing a race of people is truly his fault and he was digging deep looking for excuses. He tried to elicit sympathy by telling a story about his grand kid being passed by as they were handing out candy because the kid supposedly said: "We don't give candy to racists." I'm skeptical as to whether or not that happened. I'm thinking a lawyer fed him that story for sympathy. Then Cooper asked him about Magic Johnson (and I have a theory here...more later). When told what a champion of black people Johnson has been Sterling blurted out: "He's got AIDS!" As if this was supposed to make Magic the bad guy. Yet I see Donald's point. Magic is a beloved figure and a sympathetic one as well

I had a meeting on Tuesday afternoon with an old ironworker who I've known professionally for more than 25 years. I just can't believe I have been roaming around the construction areas for that long. In any regard we both know just about every single person who's worn a hardhat around Western New York, and we had a chance to exchange: "Remember when," stories. And we laughed a lot. "Remember when you guys were doing a job at the salt mine in Mt. Morris," I began. "The job was about a mile away from the job trailers and I just skipped the visit to the trailers and walked right to the job. Tommy was the foreman and after I reviewed everything he asked me if I'd been to the job trailer. 'You gotta' go,' he said. 'The prettiest girl I've ever seen works there.' "I was skeptical. I figured I'd see the anti-prettiest girl in the world, but I couldn't pass up the chance. I drove to the trailers and had

ESPN went all in on the Michael Sam reaction to being drafted in the NFL. As I've said many times before, I don't think it's much of an issue. Sam seems like a fine young man and he is a talented football player as he was drafted. I wasn't drafted. I'm an unsigned free agent, by the way, free to the highest bidder. Yet the replay of Sam's reaction was played all over the place, including the kiss he shared with his partner as they both cried. And you know what? I cringed a little. And I felt a little bad about doing it, but as I thought about it a bit more it began to make sense to me. When Blake Bortles kisses his girlfriend I'm okay with that because his girlfriend is a very attractive female and I happen to know what it's like to kiss an attractive female. Why wouldn't I cringe when I see a man kiss a man? And I don't feel bad about the fact that I cringed. I think it's going to take more for some of us to get used to s

It's funny what sort of story catches my eye and makes me stop to read it. Years ago it was all about the newspaper, and while I am religious about buying a copy of the paper every morning, I must admit that most of the stories I read now are off the Twitter feed. And there's no shortage of material there. What types of stories do I read, you ask? 1). Anything with a dog in it. Yep. There was a great story out of New Jersey this week about a family who lost their dog during the hurricane. They finally, after months and months, headed to a shelter to replace their beloved dog, and there he was in the cage! Saved!! That's a great story. 2). Old rock stars talking stories . I love to hear why they wrote the songs I listened to when I was a kid. I love to hear about their writing process. I enjoy seeing what they're up to now as fat, bald, middle-aged men. A few weeks ago I read a story about Peter Frampton and it was reported that the girl who he wrote "Bab

Wow, wasn't that exciting? The NFL (they don't pay taxes) draft is in the history books. What did we learn? 1). Every team GM says the following things: "We had him rated higher on our boards." So, their second round picks 'they' had him rated as a first-rounder. Their 3rd round guy was a 2nd rounder...and so on and so forth. "We took the best available player." My God! I wish I had a nickel for every time I heard that. "We think his off-field issues are behind him. He's done a lot of growing up since his last arrest." Uh, yeah. He'll be fine. "This draft makes us stronger and faster and ready to compete for a Super Bowl." You were 6-10 last year and haven't made the playoffs for 14 years. Let's temper it a bit, huh? 2). We have a gay draftee. I'm not quite sure why this was such a big deal. We have probably had gay players drafted before, but this is the first guy who has a shot at t

“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.” ―Washington Irving That about says it all, doesn't it. There is surely no stronger bond than a good mother to a child. I have felt the force of that bond throughout my entire life, in the way that my Mom loved all of us. I was thoroughly amazed to understand that she knew everything about each one of us and that she did her job, day in and day out...just battling. "How many loads of laundry a week did you do?" I asked her recently. "The machine was never off," she said. "Only when we slept." And I get a lot of things straight from my mother. The work obsession was always traced back to Dad, but as I&#

For a lot of years now Chris Colantino, who is celebrating his 50th birthday today, would send me photos. Some of them showed my head on the body of something basically disgusting. I swear I meet people that I known only on Facebook and they say: "Geez, you're not gross. From what Chris and Pops and others do to you, you'd think you were 700 pounds." So, keep doing it, in a roundabout way, you're making me look good. Anywhoha... Back to the birthday boy. I've been writing for a long time now...and the frustrating part of writing was not having it exactly as I wanted and under my control, in regard to putting it together and signing it and sending it out. Besides, I thought a few of my covers lacked punch. So I wanted a new cover artist. And I thought of Chris. So...he got a cover art assignment based on the fact that he sent me tremendous pictures of me in compromising positions with a grossly inflated weight and a ridiculous slant on grotes

The other day I had a hole in my sock that was driving me crazy. It was in the perfect position to allow my big toe to be exposed and since it was tucked into my work boot, I sort of just let it go because taking off the boot, fixing the sock and then re-lacing the boot would be a pain in the ass. But the damn toe just kept finding the hole in the fabric and I found myself thinking about it. In sort of a literary way. I thought about the hole in the sock being a symbol for things in life that stick in the old craw and won't shake loose no matter how hard you try. "That's bullshit," I said. I took off the shoe and turned the sock a little bit so that I wouldn't have to bother with it. The hole would still be there, mind you, but it would shift location and not cause a problem. I went to two sites before the damn thing struck my mind again. Somehow the sock had shifted and the big piggy was sticking out back through the hole. Back to the literary m

It's so easy to lose sight of where you want to go. There are so many temptations in a free society. Things that'll knock you off the track. If you love dogs you have to love that photo, right? But even if you don't. I often think about people who roll aimlessly through their days, getting pushed back and forth, not knowing what they want or why they want it. And I do think it's getting easier to get distracted in this day and age. There are so many choices. But I'm not lecturing anyone. We all should be able to spend our days like we want to, but do you really know what you want? Those two dogs do. And one of them is going to emerge from the water without the prize. That happens from time-to-time as well. But I'd rather lose the prize trying than not even feeling the thrill of chasing it. It's so easy to lose sight of where you want to go. Keep your eye on the ball.

I felt like running this one again. You Gotta' Like the Picture Today So a reporter went into the Jets locker room and tried to interview a player - Mark Sanchez - shouldn't be a problem, right? The above photo is the reporter. She felt uncomfortable being in the room around the 53 naked men because they were calling out to her. They must have admired her intelligence. Now I'm not saying that I would have kept my mouth shut when she entered the space, but I do remember a story from back in the day when women were first let into the men's locker rooms. One of my favorite Yankees of all-time (I won't mention his name) supposedly was in full uniform when the woman came in to interview him. During the course of the interview he proceeded to get naked just to see how she would respond. I work around construction guys all week. The highlight of their day is seeing the coffee girl. "How's the coffee girl?" is the most oft-repeated phrase in the

The Gannon University alumni news magazine came in the mail on Saturday and I flipped through it quickly, stopping on the story of the TKE house being turned into a lab for forensics for the study of criminal justice. I hope they don't use the blue light in the basement of that place. And the mind is a funny thing because when you see, even a photo of a place where you hung out, you remember. The price to get into the Friday Night TKE party was two bucks. You were handed a cup and allowed to drink as much as you wanted. We very rarely could come up with the two bucks, but I had a lot of friends around there so I didn't have to pay. One evening I was in the basement when a guy tapped me on the shoulder. He showed me a ledger that said this: "Fuzzy - NP" "Yeah?" I asked. "That means, 'Fuzzy - not-paid'," he said. My roommate Fluffy, who was a member, didn't miss a beat: "That means, 'Fuzzy - not-paying'"

Mellencamp is due for another record. I so enjoyed the last one...No Better than This...and it was done simply...just him and the guitar mostly, or so it appeared...like this song for the strong lyrics as well as the sound of the narrator actually heading down the road. Gonna' see him in July...always a good show. Coming Down the Road by John Mellencamp Well I heard the bells of freedom once As I was coming down the road Coming down the road And I followed that echo wherever it would go As I was coming down the road But there always seemed to be trouble in my path I found my hands tied behind my back As I was coming down the road Coming down the road Well I heard the truth call my name As I was coming down the road Coming down the road And I followed that voice to the valley below As I was coming down the road And it took me down a path where I was lost all the time I found some truth but it could never be mine As I was coming down the road Coming down the ro

I must admit. There was a bit of panic involved. My phone was vibrating and I couldn't see it to answer it. The screen was completely black. What do you do in such situations? Yeah...push at every single button. I was turning up the volume in an effort to get a picture back. And the phone had been showing signs. Every now and again it would fade out on me. It wasn't even blinking back now. It took me six frantic minutes to get the picture back and hold it long enough to return the call, but it was going to be a rough day. Our phones have become way too important. And I suppose that's the way someone wants it to be, but I answer e-mails. It's the only phone number any of my clients have for me. The customers are texting addresses now. I need the GPS to find said addresses. I have MLB.Com to get alerts when the Yankees are practicing. I check my baseball stats on there. The pictures! Oh my God, what if I lose my photos? And my apps. I have a slot machi

They don't make them like they used to. Now don't get me wrong here. I'm not saying I'm a tough guy. I have never been in a fight and most likely will spend my whole life never throwing a punch in anger, but my Mom and Dad instilled a toughness in all of us. Despite the physical pain I've been in over the last couple of years I won't even consider shutting it down...and some of the guys in the construction field really respect me for that as I limp around. But I grew up thinking that's the way it should go down. A few years ago an iron worker buddy of mine was watching basketball at my house. We ate some big steaks and as we settled in to drink beer and watch the games he asked me for a bag of ice. He rolled up his pants leg to expose a knee that was swollen to five times it's normal size. I had watched him walk the iron the day before. "What the hell?" I asked. "Stubbed it the other day," he said as he applied the ice.

There's a different feel to each month, isn't there? May brings the promise of warm weather and bright sunny days. Lord knows that is welcome this year. It's been sort of a miserable spring which followed a horrific winter. But enough with the weather report. May First is one of those days. It's my nephew James' birthday and it's crazy because when he celebrates a birthday I recall the actual day of his birth and the feelings of happiness realizing that my brother Jim was blessed with living proof. And James has grown to be a complex kid with a whole lot of energy and a long list of real strengths. Happy Birthday, buddy! Have a great year. It's also my cousin Mary Ann's birthday and anyone who's ever had the pleasure of meeting Mary Ann has met a truly beautiful woman of strength and grace. Life itself put her through hell over the last few years, but five minutes after seeing her, you're laughing along with her. A wonderful, wonderfu

So, we've been watching The Following . You know that one? It has Kevin Bacon in it and a whole bunch of other angry, basically incompetent FBI guys who are trying to catch a guy who has a cult-like following of people who will kill for him. There's a lot going on. The other night the cult leader had two characters kneel across from one another: Father against Son. One had to kill the other or they were both gonna' be shot to death. "That's a pretty easy decision," I said to my beautiful wife, "huh?" "Oh, no doubt," she said. "Here's a tougher one," I said. "What about me and you being forced to kneel there?" I asked. "Oh, I'd stab the shit out of you," she said. "Really! You wouldn't just look lovingly into my eyes until he shot both of us for not being capable of doing it to each other?" "Oh, hell no," she said. "I have to be around for the kids.&qu