Thoughts of a Common Man

I’ll see you in my dreams indeed. I love when I dream about my Dad, my cousin Maryanne and my brother Jeff. Seems they take turns paying visits to me, and while the dreams are usually nonsensical I can feel them there. I woke on Saturday morning to a few texts from my nephew John who was a little concerned about the Yankees losing a couple of ugly ones. Then we swapped thoughts of a birthday that will be celebrated even if the birthday boy isn’t here. “Not right,” I texted. “We should be up to shenanigans today.” That’s the sad part. We didn’t get a chance to see how it all would have evolved. “Let it be,” I mentioned, which is easier said than done. We went back to worrying about the starting pitching and I did my best to talk my nephew off the baseball ledge. “Every team has tough stretches. They had 76 good starts in a row and now two bad ones. It’s how life goes.” Johnny thought about it for a minute. “I want to win every day!” He wrote. The kid is gonna’ be all right. Chip off the

Man! I had a very busy, really stressful day on Thursday and was happy when Kathy suggested we watch a movie. We like Mark Wahlberg so Arthur the King seemed like a good choice. And it crushed me!!! You can’t show me two hours of a movie where a dog’s fate hangs in the balance. I have said it for years: Dogs are way, way, way up there on the list of God’s greatest blessings and I’m telling you, I was so freaking uncomfortable for long stretches of the movie and at one point said: “This dog better be all right or I’m going to beat you up.” Kathy laughed, but I saw her squirming around too. And Wahlberg didn’t disappoint either. The movie was definitely entertaining. It’s crazy, isn’t it? We can watch show after show and movie after movie where people shoot other people, or fight to the death, but introduce an animal into the mix and there’s angst. Think ‘Call of the Wild’ or ‘Old Yeller’ or even ‘Bambi.’ Every once in a blue moon a dog wil die a hero as a burglar breaks in. I can’t do t

Willie Mays passed away on Tuesday. He was granted 93 years. It drives me crazy to listen to tribute shows where the person narrating says stuff like: “It’s a tragic day.” Mays was one of the greatest, no doubt, and he carried himself well in interviews, but tragic? He was 93! One of the shows was playing funeral music in the background and the host was whispering as though he were about to burst into tears. Just a pet peeve. Don’t act like it was a shock! I came of age as a baseball fan at the tail end of Mays’ playing career. He was on the Mets at the end and at 43 years old, he fell down in the outfield. His best days were behind him. Yet, as a fan of the sport way back then, I knew that he was in the conversation with Ruth and Mantle and Aaron. Those three were absolute icons. There was a loud group who believed that Mays was the greatest of all time. He had speed, power, a great arm… …a five-tool player as they say. His career started out in New York and ended there too, but he sp

The renovations continue at Camp Clifford. This was a big one given what we are going through in the Northeast. “The air conditioner isn’t working,” was the text message while I was working. (Love those little love messages from the campers). Called the guy. He texted me. “Dude, it’s toast. You bought it in 2002. It’s time.” I got a price from him. Wasn’t happy, but when are you ever happy when hit with a big bill? Went to the next site and griped to the first guy I saw. I told him the price. “My guy can beat that.” I texted his guy, but not before we battled through a steamy night. Well - one of us didn’t want any part of it: “I’m getting a hotel room,” Kathy said. “It’s 89 in here.” The guy texted me on Tuesday morning. “I’ll be there at noon. Your house will be cooling down by 5:00.” And let me tell you… …the guy did a great job. He worked hard in sweltering heat, and he talked me through everything as if I knew what he was talking about regarding heating and cooling. He might just

 We all know exactly where we were on June 17, 1994. It was the night that O.J. and Al Cowlings led a low-speed chase that ended in O.J.’s arrest. The story has been done to death (bad word there) but this is all about that single night. My brother Jeff was driving the car through a Maryland traffic jam. Pops was in the backseat, nodding off and then waking up long enough to nod off again. We were heading back to Buffalo after watching the Yankees pummel the hapless Orioles at Camden Yards: At one point in the traffic backup, Jeff got out of the car and knocked on the door of an RV - it was HOT! We didn’t pack any drinks. Jeff came back with drinks for all of us. And we listened to the radio as the O.J. slow-speed chase was broadcast for the world to hear. At that point, we were all still firmly in the camp of disbelief. Not O.J.! He was THE man in Buffalo! They must have got it wrong. We were hanging on every word. He wasn’t going to kill himself, was he? And, of course, we learned th

I pulled into the parking lot at the golf course and my heart sank a little… …place was packed! Father’s Day golf is not fun for those of us who go out every weekend because it’s like those who attend mass only on Christmas or Easter. There was a group of 8 in front of us. They were obviously going to split into 2 foursomes, but the group directly in front of us had a grandpa and his granddaughter. “How adorable,” I said. Grandpa hit it about 18 yards. Granddaughter swung and missed. She did a little pirouette and laughed. Her Dad, who was also in the group, decided to give her a lesson as we waited on the tee for our shot. I said to my golf partner: “I get it. You’re sitting around during the week and you think, ‘You know what would be FUN? We should all go golfing! Me, Dad and Grandpa! It’s perfect for Father’s Day!” Yeah. Perfect. Unless you’re one of the slobs in the group behind them! Now, it’s not to say that I didn’t have a perfectly fine time. I hit some good shots, some bad sh

I mentioned in the book, ‘The Barking Lions’ that if there were a day I could time travel back to it would be Father’s Day back in 1996. I was 31 years old, and was just a year away from celebrating my first Father’s Day - (that’s a whole ‘nother story). That weekend was the Strawberry Festival weekend in my home town of North Collins. On Friday night, whilst drinking at the bar in town, a few buddies of mine wondered if we could get a team together for a one-pitch softball tournament. We slapped that team together on a napkin…guys who played against each other in our usual league…formed a rag-tag union. We figured we’d play a couple of games, drink a few beers and then watch the rest of the tourney. A funny thing happened: We won all of our games on Saturday! Our pitcher, Scotty, was adept at throwing one-pitch strikes, and I was on an absolute heater. In the 4 games we played I got a base hit nearly every time up. Problem being, we were still very much alive for day 2 of the tourname

One of the Supreme Court justices has received more than $4 million in gifts. Another has had all of his debt wiped out. Decision after decision lately appears to be bought and paid for, and it’s certainly to be expected, but explain to me why bump stocks are legal again. We all remember that Las Vegas shooting, don’t we? Sixty people were killed by a man who shot a million shots in about 20 seconds because he used the bump stock to allow him to kill human beings in as rapid a fashion as he could. Yeah. Yeah. I’m not a gun owner or a hunter so I don’t have any right to discuss it because I don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Well, I am a human and I live in a country where humans appear to be hunted like deer by some of those heretofore responsible gun owners. “We should be able to own any weapon we want!” That is the rallying cry of a fringe group of people who don’t care two hoots about people being murdered at concerts, in church, at schools, or just about anywhere else where

I drive on a lot of construction sites. So, every once in a while I’ll get a chime from my car and a warning: “Low tire pressure.” It’s never at a convenient time. Yesterday was Jake’s 27th birthday - which is insane - and I had an ice cream cake in the car. Chanced that my tire could make the trip home… Got there, but then headed over to a tire shop because I had an appointment. I don’t know what the guy who made the appointment was thinking because after he ushered me to a chair in the waiting room; he came back to tell me that it’d be a ‘couple of hours.’ “Dude, I have a nail in my tire. I’m not waiting 2 hours.” Made it back home for pizza and cake and a few laughs. Used the little compressor in the morning and made it to a gas station to refill. It’s never a good time for a nail. And isn’t it crazy that you are zipping through a decent day and: “Here, dipshit…deal with this!” Maybe it’ll get repaired today. Probably have to buy 2 new tires.

When I heard that Jerry West passed away I didn’t think of him as the great NBA executive that he was. He built the Lakers, found Shaq and Kobe. Built teams from scratch and always had brilliant responses to difficult situations. Smart guy. I didn’t think of him as the man who overcame a really rough childhood to make it in the NBA. I didn’t even think of him as the logo. (The NBA used his silhouette as their promotional logo). I remember him as a player first and foremost. The 1969-1970 Lakers lost in 7 games to the New York Knicks. I was 5 years old. I cried and I truly recall looking at the final score on the screen: New York 113 Los Angeles 99 I cried because I loved Wilt Chamberlain that much, and it made me sick that they lost. Jerry West was on that team and he was an amazing shooter. The Lakers won it all in 1972 and that was the year they had a 33-game winning streak (still the longest streak in any sport). They came to Buffalo and spanked the Braves and I got to see Wilt and

For years I’ve sung along with Billy Joel in “It’s Only Rock & Roll to Me” but I never understood the line: “You could be a Beau Brummel baby if you just give if half a chance.” Never was curious enough to try and figure it out what the hell Billy was talking about. Given my penchant for style you’d think I would’ve known who Beau was, right? I finally got curious enough yesterday. Beau Brummel was born in 1780 and he became a bit of a wizard of menswear when he started accessorizing his outfits. He was in the military where he was kicked by a horse. His friendship with George, the Prince of Wales, got him an in with the socialites of the day. He went to Oxford for a term, but gave up his education because he wanted to take advantage of his talents and he became the greatest influencer of all-time. He must have, right, because about 200 years later, Billy Joel included his name in a song! Now, some may argue that I don’t have much in the way of fashion sense. I can sometimes pair m

There are a lot of people comparing the GOP candidate for president to Jesus. Yeah. That Jesus! The cult is slinging this phrase about: “Jesus was also convicted in court.” A few of us traded a couple of clips from the rally over the weekend - including the unbelievable, embarrassing, nonsensical clip of being in a boat with a heavy battery that might sink while being stalked by a shark that is ten yards away. “I’d rather be electrocuted,” was his final determination. We can only hope. Anywhoha… …back to what the image of White Jesus means to millions of fans of the orange guy. 1). White Jesus hates the poor and downtrodden. If you’re struggling to make ends meet, White Jesus doesn’t want to hear it. “Pull thy selves up by thy bootstraps, you lazy bastards.” Oh! And don’t forget to donate to the fake billionaire so he can save you. 2). White Jesus hates immigrants and brown people and of course those meddling Jews! Doesn’t matter that Jesus wasn’t white, was Jewish and was a son of imm

I know you’re on pins and needles wondering how I followed up the best round of golf of my life. First drive was great… …second shot went off the toe… …double-bogey. Followed by another. And though I had a half dozen pars and hit the ball okay… …I found my mind wandering and I didn’t care. Couldn’t focus on the battle, and it made me think of the days when we just muddle through. It’s impossible to be ON all the time, and that’s on the course or in every day life. The important thing was getting out there and getting some sun during a weekend where torrential rains, and reports for hail by Sunday night had Ollie laying on my left shoulder by the end of the day. It is definitely hard to focus all the time, and as miserable as a Monday morning can be I do enjoy the fact that Mondays are usually quiet for at least half the day. If you’re on all the time people think you’re crazy. I thought of Charles Barkley telling a story about Tom Brady as they got ready for a celebrity golf tournament

My wife has seen every murder story in the country over the last 30 years or so… …that no easy feat because there are so many… …but murder is definitely packaged as entertainment and there are shows on about 20 channels. They’re sickening to me, and I often wonder why women seem to be drawn to such shows. Seems to me that easily accessible guns often turns a conflict into a murder. Like a story in the state of Washington. An off-duty security guard spotted two teenagers, with a gun, heading into a sporting goods store. “Stop!” He yelled. A 51-year-old white man in civilian clothes yelling at 2 teenagers. Yeah.  They didn’t stop. So, the guy shot and killed one of them… …then tried to explain that he: 1). Feared for his life. 2). Feared for his child’s life (his kid was taking a karate class next to the sporting goods store). 3). He assumed that the boys were heading into the sporting goods store for a mass shooting - even though it was a BB gun that the boys were returning. So, a child

Steve Bannon headed off to jail this week. Jenna Ellis was on X talking about how broke she is after her court cases. The reason she made the post because she was talking about Mark Meadows who was indicted in Arizona… …according to Ellis he’s lost all his money trying to defend his actions. He tried to convince the world that the election was stolen - knowing it was all a lie. Not to mention Rudy Guiliani who is basically destitute and owes millions. Fox News paid nearly a billion after losing their court case over lying. Alex Jones was crying because he had to sell his ranch - he owes millions upon millions for saying that Sandy Hook was a staged event. All the January 6 defendants are in jail… …and you know who raised $400 million this week? Yeah. The guy they all tried to stand up for… …he has forgotten ALL their names. I would feel bad for some of those people if they weren’t the loudest voices who screamed that the orange menace was the second coming of Jesus. Everything he touch

My sister’s book is out there! Go get it!! It makes me so proud to see the book on Amazon, knowing that it’s very, very great! It’s been a long, long time since we were out in California, brainstorming my stories long before they were published. Carrie Lynn was writing, writing and writing some more through the years and I kept telling her… …”Go for it!” Well, she did!  To amazing results. Of course I was able to read the book as it was being put together, but I ordered a copy from Amazon yesterday and can’t wait to read it again. The shoe is on the other foot now as I have been sitting on a lot of my writing lately. I plan on getting it out there before the end of 2024, but for now: Carrie takes center stage! And it’s so great… …go get a copy!

I’m trying to get some grass to grow in the backyard.  I’m also trying to do it at minimum effort. I throw grass seed down and hope it rains. It’s half-ass working. This morning I stood at the door - my car just a couple hundred feet away… …and watched the rain pelt the driveway. When I worked construction decades ago we loved a good rain day after a long string of working every day because we’d get two hours show up time and we’d leave. An off day! Like a snow day. That doesn’t happen much these days as I have plenty of inside work to check… …but watching the rain I felt a little more relaxed. People are subdued a little. Let it rain.

My routine is pretty established around here at Camp Clifford. I leave the house anywhere between 6 and 7 and I usually walk back through the door between 2 and 3 with about 90 minutes of report writing to do. Far as I can tell, the dog and cat sleep until around 1:45 because they’re fired out of a cannon when I get back home. Miller (the cat) is kind enough to wake me up a half hour before I have to get up each day - and he has some cat milk before going back to bed. All hell breaks loose when my reports are written. It was 82 degrees here, but Ollie caught 240 passes with 4 different footballs between 2:00 and 8:00. He also ate a half dozen bones, a healthy portion of rotisserie chicken and 3 bowls of dog food. He’s in elite athlete shape (he imitates me). When he’s not catching the ball, he is right at my side, staring at me. We have taken to remind him that every day is an Ollieday. And I’m not sure what hitting the lottery might be like for a dog, but he’s pretty wealthy. The othe

As far as I can tell the job of Congress is to call a witness and then scream the dumbest possible stuff at the person and try and score political points for their side of the aisle. I watched a clip of MTG screaming at Dr. Fauci over COVID as though they’re on equal footing as persons of science. The stance that the GOP has taken on COVID is absolutely bizarre. “It was a hoax,” is kind of hollow when you consider a million Americans died. It seems that they believe that Dr. Fauci and some people in Wuhan released it on the world in an effort to make money off it, Then, if you’re to believe the entire story, the vaccine was created by the orange menace, thus saving the world even though he went out of his way to tell people to avoid getting vaccinated. It’s mind-numbingly stupid, and Dr. Fauci has had to sit there and listen to the rants of Rand Paul, MTG, that idiot one from Colorado and ‘whatever the way the wind blows’ Graham. I can’t imagine what a man of science and education thin

 Back in 1984 we lived in Mill Valley, California. I was just 19 years old. There was a golf course - ‘Golden Gate Golf Course’ that I could walk to. I went at least 4 days a week and one day, I was hitting the ball long and straight and playing that often, I learned the course.  I shot a 39 and a 40 for a 79. Since then, I’ve aged considerably and my game got a lot worse when the kids were young because I wasn’t playing. These last few years we have played a regular schedule and have visited the same, really nice course each week. I love the place and I knew that someday I could have a great round again. I shot 80 there twice in the last few years. Great rounds - but not good enough. I started the round with a par, bogey, birdie, par, par and it entered my mind. Didn’t look again until after hole 16. “I need a par and a bogey for a 79,” I told my buddies Pops and J.C. They were really rooting for me. Chippy was the star of hole 17 - from off the green to a tap in for the par. “Only a

I woke up Saturday with a plan. I needed to not overdo it because the goal of the day was to rest my tired body a little so that I can swing the golf club on June the 2. Didn’t work because Ollie was waiting at 7:30. We got round one out of the way as I sipped my coffee. I thought about Dad & Uncle Jim being fired up about June the 2. Considered talking to my boys about it so they acknowledge the day after we’re gone. Cat food and cat litter was a priority so I headed to the grocery store. Ollie and I played again when I returned and then I grabbed the weed whacker. “I’ll mow on Sunday, or get the boys to do it,” I thought. Two hours later, I was mowing. A visit to see Mom and by 3:00, I was tired and my back was barking! “I have to rest,” I told Kathy. “My back hurts!” But it’s so hard to sit the hell down when the weather is so great. The football was flying around the yard most of the day as Sam & Jake also took a turn helping Ollie get his reps. Saturday night was quiet whi

There have been plenty of moments these past two weeks to think back a bit. Matt & Alicia got married so it was a chance to contemplate our wedding, and it dovetailed straight into our wedding anniversary. In the days leading up to that day so long ago I was listening to ‘Real World’ by Springsteen because he sang: ‘Ain’t no church bells ringing, there aren’t no flags unfurled, just you, me and the love we’re bringing into the real world.’ Bruce was coming off a failed marriage and was entering a second marriage. He was contemplating what it takes to make it work and he wasn’t pulling any punches. ‘Year gone past feels like one long day’ and ‘I built a roadside carnival out of hurt and self-pity.’ Wasn’t playing. Was thinking that the days ahead wouldn’t always be about wine and roses but he was convinced they were ready for the fight that it takes to make it in the real world. It was the 2nd song we played at our wedding reception (the first dozen songs were Bruce) and I’ve though