Thoughts of a Common Man

You’ve probably seen the photos by now. The grand American Fair to celebrate 250 Years of Freedom is an absolute bust. Virtually no one showed up. Most of the photos I’ve seen show such a limited number of people that you can actually count them. And of course, we are being told not to believe our eyes. “It’s packed!” The now adjudicated rapist posted. It’s not. They showed the food stands, where the people who yell, “You can save money by not going out for lunch or order a $5 coffee,” were willing to sell you a $9 bottle of water. As I said in an earlier post, I vividly recall the bicentennial celebration back in 1976. Proud Americans, lining up for parades, waving flags, and telling the world that we are the best nation in the world. Now. Crickets. We won’t ever hear the true number of people who showed up. We’ll be told there were hundreds of thousands of people, when I don’t think I counted more than a few hundred people…total…in all the photos I’ve seen. It’s embarrassing. I’m not...

The Bills made a decision I finally agreed with: They aren’t putting Orenthal James Simpson’s name on the wall of honor or ring of honor or whatever the hell they call it when they move into their billions dollar palace. Yep. They took the high road, deciding not to honor a man who nearly decapitated two people. I didn’t  believe it was much of a question, but turns out I was wrong about that. The billions we spent as welfare for the billionaire makes people believe that they should have a say in what happens, and from the comments I see, O.J. should be honored. “We are bending over backwards for the politically correct libtards! The Juice was the greatest Bills player ever. The incident after he retired shouldn’t have no bearing on nothing!” The grammatical disaster of the last sentence aside, I think this genius is pissed about it. And referring to a double murder as an ‘incident’ might show how uncaring people have become. Zero empathy. Totally unhinged. Yeah, the fact that he m...

It’s weird that life just keeps barreling forward as you try and navigate BIG things. I remember thinking exactly that when the boys were born. I stepped out of the hospital back then and saw people doing routine shit, and I recall wanting to yell: “Hey! Slow down! I became a father!” And now, as I go back and forth to the hospital, I see life moving ahead and I’m apt to yell: “Can I get a time out?” On the very day of Kathy’s surgery I received an email with an exclamation point telling me that it was really important. I answered by telling them about the situation and that I wasn’t available. The response was: “Hope it all works out! Do you have time to jump on a quick call to discuss?” I was a tad infuriated. I didn’t respond. But that’s how things go. Everyone has an agenda and their big problem needs to be addressed right FREAKING NOW! And it’s funny, but people also put their own judgement on a private situation. I didn’t golf today, which the world believes is the right decision...

I have the reputation here at Camp Clifford as the guy who wants to live the same week every week, with no change. Awake at the same time. Morning routine is the same, and you can set your watch by how my day winds down. We’ve been in obvious turmoil because of the hospital visit, and I spent two days wandering around the halls  of Buffalo General. I heard a couple of families who were absolutely crushed by the words coming out of the doctor’s mouth. My routine days are just gigantic ‘to-do’ lists and every day I play a game of ‘Beat the Clock’ to see if I can finish everything. There are no ‘to-do’ lists when someone is recovering from what turned into a major operation, and all that is going outside the windows of the perfectly polished halls, doesn’t mean all that much. So, I stayed even keel, and shit-canned thoughts of doing everything else. I filled the water glass, moved the blanket, checked the blood pressure on the crazy monitors hanging behind the bed, and Kathy spoke to ...

It’s truly incredible. The lie is tested out. “It was vandalism.” The reporters don’t push back, but everyone kind of laughs about it, and mentions that it’s insane to even try to tell such a whopper. Step two is to work on the lie. “It was a knife. No wait. It was a box cutter because I told everyone that a knife couldn’t cut it.” 200 feet isn’t a large enough slit to make all the water turn green. So I’ll say it was 300’. Then I’ll mention we arrested people, and are investigating it. So, they try a new lie. “It’s sick. Vandals. They definitely loved Clinton and Obama. Sick, sick people. They jumped in and made a 350’ slit down the floor and started ripping up pieces. Then they ripped up the lawn. That was a fan of Comey, he’s a crooked cop. And Barrak HUSSEIN Obama, who is stupid. Sick, sick people.” The media tries a couple of questions, just for fun. “There is camera surveillance of the reflecting pond. Did they not see the vandals?” “It’ll come out during the investigation.” “We ...

We downplayed the surgery all week. “Everything will be good. You’ll feel better.” On the way into surgery Kathy reminded me, “I’m not done torturing you yet.” I brought a Michael Connelly book, and we arrived at 5:30 AM. Just a procedure. The time that she was in surgery was a lot longer than either of us expected and as I sat there, I heard the doctor break some very bad news to a family seated in the waiting room next door. Tears of disbelief. Heart-wrenching sadness… …and I was getting texts that said, “Still in OR.” The doc came out and gave me the news: “It went well, as expected. Give it some time, and a nurse will come get you.” Back to Connelly. Hiding in a fictional world, where I do all my best hiding. Was finally time to see the patient. Turns out, I wasn’t ready. I had flashbacks to seeing my Dad in the hospital bed when he had kidney surgery. And all the days of seeing my brother under the covers with tubes and machines. Now Kathy was there, and she was out. “Few more hou...

Every year there is a ‘Rainbow’ pride night at a number of major league ballparks. Every year there are a couple of players on a couple of teams who sound off against going to the park that day. This season, three Giants pitchers wrote Bible verses on their hats to ward off the gays, I guess. Now, since MLB disciplined the pitchers for writing messages on their uniform, they’re complaining that their right to free speech has been compromised. Okay, let’s break it all down. 1). MLB wants all the fans they can get. Their sales pitch seems to be, ‘No matter what color you are; no matter what sex you are; no matter if you’re a man who loves a man, a man who loves a woman, or a woman who loves a woman, or a woman who loves a man…we’ll sell you a ticket!’ MLB does a ‘Mother’s Day’ event, honors black history month, raises money for prostate cancer research, and has a gay pride night. Being all-inclusive is good business. 2). MLB has rules regarding the uniform. A player is not allowed to wri...

Golf is a beautiful sport. It’s played outside with perfectly manicured courses.  Every glance is a post card.  You can take a breath, and concentrate on the birds soaring through the air.  As we played on Saturday, a deer crossed the fairway on the 13th hole. Golf is a game of friendship.  There’s the moment when you meet at the clubhouse, the promise of a great round coming up. Catching up on the week of life that was just put in the rear view. Waiting for the guys behind you to finish up their conversation before standing over the ball, clearing your head, working on your mechanics. Golf is a game you play against yourself. Setting the ball on the tee, with the logo facing you. Just put the sweet spot of the club on the center of the ball. Best feeling in the world to see the ball in the blue sky, soaring, to the middle of the short grass. And you turn back to your buddies.  Everyone is saying something. There is usually a fist bump or two as, in a long-stand...

Happy Birthday to my brother, Jeff. It’s hard to believe that he left us more than 17 years ago. I’m not exaggerating when I say that I’ve thought of him every day since, and I’m comforted by the fact that I don’t have enough information in regard to the grand plan. There are so many missed rounds of golf, and Yankees games, and dinners and laughs and laughs and laughs. On his birthday, as with other days, I think about those moments that so many of us were cheated out of. And the fact that 17 years has passed is mind-boggling to me. We have our memories, of course, and they’re enormous, but there are days when they aren’t enough. The new Stones record is three weeks away. He’d be fired up. Aaron Judge would be his favorite baseball player, and we’d probably argue about whether or not Anthony Volpe is a good enough player. But life is funny in a way because I definitely know how he feels on each subject… …I argue with his son, Johnny… …I sent over the new Stones songs as soon as I hear...

I had a great Dad, and I was fortunate enough to work with him professionally. We both worked in an office setting in New Haven, Ct., and Dad was the big boss. I had the chance to watch him run meetings, and manage personalities. We laughed a lot, and I was proud of him as a manager, and was in awe of how he went about his work. Cut to Friday. I was hired to speak at Jake’s company. He was pretty nervous about all of it, and when the owner of the company walked up to the two of us and said: “Are we good? We have a lot of people here.” I just laughed. I did the two hour talk, and at one point, I caught Jake in the audience, laughing and shaking his head. Made me think of how I felt watching my Dad do his thing. And I was doing that talk for more than just the company who was paying me. I wanted Jake to know that he can stand up and be confident, and that he should do a better job than anyone was expecting him to. He’d been beside me before they handed me the microphone so he knew I was ...

We watched 20/20 last night about a young woman who was abducted from her home while she was watching her two infant children. Kathy knew the story because I’m fairly certain that she’s seen every murder ever committed. I knew nothing about it, and as the story was told, I kept hoping that it was simply a story about a kidnapping that had a happy ending. It wasn’t, and it was simply horrific. First off, why do we watch such a thing as entertainment? There are a lot of true crime shows. They are highly rated shows. Secondly, I thought about the man who committed the crime. He was an unemployed plumber. He was a guy who’d lost his job, and his wife. He was also a father, of a 11-year old boy. He simply broke in, took the woman, and killed her. “How can a man do that?” Kathy asked. “Sir, there’s just a meanness in this world,” I said, quoting Charles Starkweather in the 50’s and mowed down anyone in his way during an infamous killing rampage. The young mom was in the wrong place when the ...

It’s been a long time since I listened to a politician speak and thought: “Damn, THAT guy is brilliant.” I saw a couple of great speeches yesterday. Mandami’s tribute to the Knicks was very well done, but the speeches made for the Obama Presidential Center were a lot of fun because those I listened to were filled with compassion, and empathy, and brilliance. “Obama is a cool guy,” my son texted me. “No doubt,” I said. “Handled the job with grace and class.” The ceremony for the presidential center was attended by all the living presidents THAT matter. As Obama spoke I considered how he must feel when he hears Pedo Pig refer to him as a ‘dumb son of a bitch’. Imagine hearing that from THAT thing. And I also thought about Michelle Obama being roasted by MAGA. The stupidity THAT goes into someone believing she is a man is astounding. The Obama family is what the religious right refers to as their idea of what every human should be doing. A man and a woman in a longtime marriage, with two ...

Wow. Iran did all right, huh? The Art of the Deal - which is absolute fiction garbage that fooled millions of Americans is on full display. I won’t bore you with the details but what America achieved was getting the strait open. It was closed when they dropped the bombs, used as leverage to out maneuver the morons who went in without a plan. America First, huh? Good job voting there, MAGA…. …Iran First was what you voted for. And Pedo Pig in his rambling, incoherent, fart-filled speech had the nerve to call Obama (who truly cut a deal) a ‘stupid son of a bitch’ on the world stage. So sad. Yet, it was all almost worth it because Marco Rubio, who hated pedo when he wasn’t a suck up pig himself, had to stand beside the orange dude as he let go with his gassy speech. Was almost all worth it to see the expression change on Marco’s face when he caught a whiff. What a beautiful celebration this 250 year anniversary will be. Celebrating the end. With the slothiest American ever leading the way...

Ollie will go over 30,000 catches today. He’s crushing it as we have a lot more time to play with the dry days. He also gets a lot of time in as I mow the lawn. It’s aerobic mowing as I make the trip up and back, and he figures my path, and drops the ball on my right hand side. I throw, he catches, and brings it back. It takes a little longer to mow, but it’s his favorite day of the week. Of course, summer always brings me a case of poison ivy because I like to scour the woods for stray golf balls. I have a mild case, but it’s irritating. Summer also brings earlier work hours, which doesn’t mean I get done earlier. Getting old for such long hours, but WNY has excellent weather this time of year. And that brings the summer backache. I tweaked it tying my shoes on Monday morning. I was sitting down. Simply turned to the right, and 💥  Poison ivy, a sore back and a crazy dog allows time to fly on by. Summer fun in the sunshine. Go Yankees.

There’s a video clip of three MAGA hillbillies in a wrestling match on the White House lawn. One of the wrestlers or fighters, or whatever hell they are called Michelle Obama a man. Pedo pig fell asleep. The reflective pool is filled with algae after the $14 million, no-bid contractor messed the entire thing up. The Iran ‘Deal’ is an absolute ass-kicking as it is worse than what was torn up. We are white trash. I didn’t watch any of the $60 million birthday party other than the couple of clips. I did see the idiot call Michelle a man, and that truly disappointed me because it tells us exactly where we are as a country. Racists. Embarrassing. No matter where you stand, look at what they’ve done to the property. They paved the rose garden. Demolished an entire wing. Ripped up the lawn. Not to mention that the Oval Office now looks like the room they dragged Sadam Hussein out of. Gawdy. Ugly. White Fucking Trash.

I made it through an NBA Game- start to finish - and I’m glad I don’t bet because my feeling before the game was that they would clinch it on their home court in Game 6. They did it in 5 because they never backed down when things got tough. Brunson is a terrific player. Opened my eyes on Sunday morning knowing that my favorite 4 hours of the week was coming up. Got a text 90 minutes before tee time: “Doesn’t look good.” What???? I glanced out the window. It looked all right to me. Checked the weather forecast. Rain for the next hour. Stopping in 30 minutes. Next rain cloud showed up at one in the afternoon! “Pouring here,” was the next text. “I heard thunder.” Five minutes later, everyone backed out. Yep. Between 8:15 and 2:00 it rained a total of 3 minutes. We skipped a cherished round of golf because we would have had to wipe down one club around hole 15. I certainly was not going to fill my time with the white trash olympics on the White House lawn. The one thing that keeps me stres...

On Saturday afternoon I caught a video of people on motorcycles or dirt bikes, or some freaking thing, doing flips on ramps in front of the White House. I had one thought: “Embarrassing.” Where are the conservatives who frown on behavior that is frivolous and undignified? On Sunday there was a wrestling match, or some such nonsense, and all the lying brown-nosed GOP politicians were quick to send out birthday wishes to  the guy they claim works 22 hours a day, and only seems to rest his eyes in meetings. And there’s a demolished section of the White House on the property, which brings to thought another phrase: “White Trash.” To top it off, birthday boy supposedly spent some of his time with his best buddy Epstein torturing a child by mutilating her nipples. This was discovered by a group of New York Times reporters who sat on the story until their book came out ,.  ..and the story was widely ignored because being a pedophile in that party is a ‘who cares?” nothing burger. Cel...

Sports is such an amusing distraction for the shit show that is normal every day life. I’ve seen a lot of great games through the years, and most of the time my team loses, but that’s why God made me a Yankees fan… …so I knew what winning was like. Anyway, Game 4 of the NBA Finals was one of ‘those’ games. An instant classic, I suppose, but for 3/4ths of the game, it was an absolute snooze fest. Of course, they didn’t start the game until 8:30, so I had no chance of watching beyond halftime, and given how the half went, I wouldn’t have watched it anyway. I was asleep by 10:15 or so. I woke up for some reason and checked the score. Spurs 92 Knicks 75 with 11 minutes to go. “No chance,” I thought. Immediately went back to sleep. Through the din, I heard my son Sam say: “No way!” Checked again. The lead was down to 4.  I thought: “I can stay up for the rest of it.” Immediately went back to sleep. The next time I woke up it was morning. The Knicks won on an insane tip-in, and all of Ne...

It’s truly an every day question that’s aggravating.  It’s worse in the summer months when the thought of turning on the oven after being out in the sun is kinda’ pathetic. “We ordering something?” Kathy asked. “I guess.” “A sub? Hot dogs? Pizza?” “I’d do Chinese,” I finally said, knowing full well she didn’t want Chinese. “Order yours,” she said. “Me and Sam will get something. What time we eating?” “‘Ten Minute’ is what they’ll say when I call,” I said. I ordered all my favorites, and got an extra egg roll for some reason. Ended the question for a day, anyway, but ‘what’s for dinner?’ will rear its ugly head again tomorrow. One of the best things we did was assign a couple of meals to a couple of nights. Wednesday is pasta for me. It was pizza night for everyone else. On Sunday, I make pasta. So, we’re down to five nights. “How about breakfast for dinner?” Is tossed my way once in a while, and suddenly I’m a short order cook. When I lived with my Dad on the road, dinner was never...

We have to further discuss the presidential visit to the NBA Finals as we now know the facts so they can be preserved for all of history. First off, a funky aspect of it all is that New Yorkers are currently walking around New York City burning sage to get rid of the evil. For the uninitiated, they flashed pedo pig on the screen during the national anthem. That was by design.  They didn’t think the boos would rain down during the anthem. They believed that would be unpatriotic, but we are way past that. And they don’t know New Yorkers. The boos were loud. They were louder at the watch parties everywhere people were gathered. How would the cult respond? First, Fox News manipulated the tape - mixed some cheers in and eliminated some of the booing. A reporter was to afraid to frame the question any other way than ‘What did you thing of the reception you got?’ That lined him up perfectly fly to do the thing he loves best: Lie. “Amazing. Mostly cheers.” Now, it may seem trivial to some,...

The New York Knicks being in the NBA Finals is such a feel good story. A moment that is good for the escape of the shit show the country has become. So, how do we turn the feel good story into a divisive, garbage night where everyone was excited to be at a watch party. Mr. Me, Me, Me, Me decided to go to a game that no one wanted him. The watch parties were canceled because of the security required. So much for needing the security of a huge ballroom, right? It did allow us to fantasize about the reaction that he would get. New York absolutely hates him because they’ve known he’s a criminal for decades. The mindset is what fascinates me. If you were well aware that the majority of people hate you, wouldn’t you lay low? But check the gall of the man as he spoke to the young reporter. Sitting a foot from her he called her crooked or stupid because she asked what evidence he had for saying the 2020 election was stolen. (It wasn’t). (He has zero evidence). (He was laughed out of court). Bu...

Images of the Bi-centennial celebration flash through my mind. I distinctly recall the parade through town, and the men marching in uniform. We had balloons and floats and waving flags.  We watched the fireworks at the town park, and as a 11-year old, I distinctly recall being undeniably proud to be an American. A lot has changed in 50 years. First off, I learned about life and how it works. As a kid, you don’t see a lot of the rough edges. As a kid, you don’t have any idea who has money and who doesn’t. You don’t know who is having troubles at home, or who is sick. Back then we had a lot of people looking over us. Our friend’s parents  knew us and they’d discipline us or feed us. Now, as adults, we know all the deep, dark secrets. We understand that there are people in power taking advantage of us. We don’t have healthcare for all. We have way too many poor and homeless. Our education system is in tatters. We aren’t being led out of the mess.  We are being dragged into t...

I visited Mom on Saturday afternoon, and we chatted a little bit, and watched a funny episode of Roseanne (John Goodman is great). I mentioned that the Knicks were going to win the championship, and how we watched them together in 1973. She loved that team - especially with Jerry Lucas who was a genius. She asked: “What sport is that?” So, her memory isn’t great, but I knew how to get it going. I put on Sinatra. “Strangers in the Night” She watched the video. Her leg moving to the music. Her eyes full of tears.  She sang every word. I thought about taping it, but she was watching the video on my phone. Then she looked up. “He’s dead, right?” I nodded. “Why?” She asked. “He was old,” I said. “He had a great life. His songs will last forever.” She sang a little more. “I remember it all,” she said. “Why did he die? He was handsome.” I knew those tears were for my Dad who loved Frank. I knew she heard his voice as Frank sang. That’s why she had tears. It was beautiful to see, but it hu...

Text chatting with an old buddy the other day, and he jokingly asked if I regretted my choice of not joining him at his college. I most certainly do not regret my college choice, Gannon’s University was a great experience and I made great friends. Had a tremendous time, and made hundreds of memories, but I had a thought: There are a lot of 60+ people out there who live their lives out, buried in regret. What do I regret? 1). I regret not buying an acre of land when I lived in Mountain View, California. 2). I regret not seeing Billy Joel and Bob Seger. I had shots at seeing both of them, but didn’t. I also had a chance to see Frank Sinatra in the 80’s and didn’t take it because I thought he was lame. I was the lame one. 3). I regret not continuing to pay my Union Dues for one more year. I was a Union laborer for 9 years. My Dad told me to keep paying the dues through the 10th year because I’d be eligible for a pension. Blew that one. 4). There are a number of girls that I knew through t...

My boys are amazed at my knowledge when it comes to the NBA. I mentioned that the Knicks won championships that I remembered in 1969 and 1973. I wasn’t rooting for them because they beat the Lakers in both instances and Wilt Chamberlain and Jerry West were my two favorite players. It’s pretty obscene that I can recall sitting in front of the television and crying in the ‘69 Finals as the Knicks won game 7 - 113-99. I was just five years old when that game was played. It was also the Willis Reed game. Reed was hurt earlier in the season and could barely walk, but he opened Game 7, and scored 8 points before leaving. I’m rooting for the Knicks these days, mostly because they have a lot of Villanova players on their team, and Sam made us watch every single ‘Nova game. We knew how great Brunson could be. I don’t watch much of the games, but I’ll catch highlights so that I can chat about it with the boys. They’re also rooting for the Knicks, who haven’t won a title since ‘73. After Wilt ret...

Grandpa Clifford used to doze off now and again after dinner. “I’m resting my eyes,” was his go-to-answer. Quick question: Did you ever see ‘Sleepy Joe’ fall asleep while there are 12 cabinet members around? Pedo pig falls asleep. As his suck ups tell him how amazingly energetic he is. The White House claims he was ‘resting his eyes’. And I don’t want to make a comparison with my Grandpa Clifford because he was a fine upstanding man who worked hard every day of his life. And I don’t want to make it about Pedo Pig either. He bores me. This is about me catching a couple of winks now and again about halfway through a show and then denying it. “You were sleeping,” Kathy will mention. And I don’t know why we get defensive there. “No, I wasn’t!” “You were snoring!” Ah well. We all age. Even pedophile pigs need their rest.

I’m not really allowed to do a lot of painting around here. I did paint the interior of our house a few years back, and it was a horrendous experience. I vowed that I’d never do a big paint job again. But we have concrete outside that was looking worn, and I remembered doing that job in a half a Saturday. I may have misremembered. And how much of a mess could I make of it. It’s on the ground. I could kick the paint can over and cover a lot of it. My idea was to do a couple of steps a day each night after work. Which is difficult for me because I like to finish a task once I start it. Yesterday was day three of a the week-long experience, and I’m tired of it. Kneeling and bending over aren’t quite as much fun these days. My back hurts. My knees hurt. I need more paint. “It looks good,” I said…. …because no one else said it. A couple more days. Painting sucks.

I had a stop in the city on Elmwood Avenue, which is a busy stretch of road with a lot of traffic, plenty of pedestrians, and people riding bikes. I got out of my car, and went around it to feed the meter, and I spotted money on the ground. When finding money it’s usually a five-dollar bill or something less.  A couple of ones.  On a great day, a ten spot. I haven’t found money in a long time… …and this time, I kind of gasped because it was a hundy. And it wasn’t alone. There were two one-hundred-dollar bills and two twenties. $240 is a pretty great score. And a lot of money to the poor bastard who lost it. I looked around. There wasn’t anyone within shouting distance. I didn’t see anyone searching the street for their lost cash. I wasn’t going to go up to random people and ask them if they lost anything lately, and the law is pretty clear on this issue: Finders keepers  Losers weepers. Then I did something supremely stupid: I told Kathy. She won’t rest until she has ever...

It’s a great day today because it makes me think of Dad and Uncle Jim and my siblings. A day that Italian Americans have chosen to, uh, I don’t even know! Sort of the day when everything comes due. June the 2. It’s funny, but yesterday I was in the Dollar General getting dog bones because every day is an Ollie day, and a middle-aged black guy approached singing ‘Soul Man’. We turned that into a discussion about John Belushi and how great that song was on SNL. “Are you Italian heritage?” The man blurted out. I laughed because he caught me off-guard. “I can tell. It’s around your eyes, and the way you talk.” I laughed again. “I grew up around all the Italian families in Niagara Falls,” he said. He mentioned a few names. “You look Italian,” he added. We fist-bumped and I said, “Have a great day.” He responded with: “Happy June the 2”. Classic.

The weather was exactly perfect. 70 degrees and carts were allowed on the fairway. We had our usual 4-some together for the first time all year, and the driver troubles are all sorted out. (I don’t want to discuss the putter - it’s too soon). But I enjoyed every swing. Returned home and made a huge turkey with all the sides, and headed out to play ball with Ollie, and noticed that a fawn settled in behind the fence and watched. It was remarkable. The fawn was at full attention, as Ollie ran on by retrieving every toss. I walked closer, and the fawn just looked at me. I was less than 10’ away. Finally, the fawn stood up, and that’s when Ollie noticed him, and chased the fawn down rhe fence line. Very cool. By 6:00, I was worn out. Put some ice on my back and watched some mindless television. Brilliant sunshine. Good food. The boys were here to see the Yankees score 13 runs in one inning. And it dawned on me. That’s all Americans want. We don’t need a ballroom/bunker. Or fights on the Wh...