Thoughts of a Common Man

I've been laughing for a day and a half now as yesterday's golf outing was an effort in futility for one member of our foursome. Golf is a funny game because there seems to be a certain momentum to it and every one (even Tiger) has their turn in the barrel so to speak. When one of the other three guys is suffering it's almost too painful to watch and there isn't a lot to say to the poor bastard. Everyone takes their turn at the tee and there's so much to the mental part of the game. When another guy in the foursome shanks one you have three options - 1). Give him the 'I'm so sorry' look 2). Try to find a positive in it - such as 'That'll still play,' or 3). Make fun of him. Last year I golfed a lot with my brother - he always chose option number three. The worst part of it was missing the ball and having him stand there and say - "My God, you're awful." Anyway - yesterday a regular on our trips couldn't stay out of his own w...

Headed off to a wedding on Friday night and we arrived at the reception hall before anyone else. Not wanting to be the first people on site, I turned the car around in the lot and asked Kathy if she'd rather have a drink in a bar first. She didn't know of any bars in the area, but we just sort of drifted through the neighborhood looking for a beer sign. "There's one," Kathy said as I was passing a place. "Turn around." I just kept driving. For one reason or another, I needed to find something else. I saw the sign for Daley's Bar in South Buffalo and parked right at the front door. Kathy made it as far as the door, but turned around. "They're closed," she said. "Come on," an old man yelled from inside the bar. Despite it being 7:00 on a Friday night, the only living things in the bar were the old man, and a small dog that was curled up beside him - on the bar. Kathy turned and asked if this was indeed the place where we were go...

Talking with a good friend of mine who nearly died last year as cancer threatened him. He went through a few major operations, blood clots, and his last rites. To be honest, I didn't think he'd survive. It's been nearly a year and he hasn't missed more than a few hours of work since his remarkable recovery but he certainly has mellowed. He will forever have lingering medical problems, but he's still here. "I never once heard you complain," I told him yesterday. "What good will it do me to complain to you," he answered. "You can't do a single thing for me." I know that he's in pain from time to time. He eats differently, no longer smokes, drinks, or takes anything for granted. "Why are you working so much?" I asked him. "I have to keep going," he said. "Everything changed and no one will ever know what goes through my mind on a daily basis, but my family still expects me to produce." And I thought of...

Caught the Little League World Series game between California and Georgia last night. There was so much running through my mind as I watched. First off - it was good baseball. I started watching figuring I should pick a team to root for and I decided that since California was up 5-1 that I'd root for Georgia to come back - but when they did, I felt so bad for one of the kids on the California team because it looked like he was going to cry, so I started rooting for California to come back. By the end of the game I didn't want either team to lose. For the record California did win with a run in the last of the sixth. There was a kid on the Georgia team who was 6' tall and weighed 210 lbs - he's 13! I watched him pitch and couldn't imagine standing in the box to try and hit him. He was also pretty awkward as if he still didn't know how to handle being so massive. I watched the parents cheering for their children as if their very existence hung in the balance, but ...

Bought a Mega-Millions ticket today and as I drove my mind wandered about what I'd do with $325 million. Three seconds into the daydream, I cursed myself for wasting the five-spot. Saw the photo of Rick Pitino in the paper - the latest big shot to be brought down by a sex scandal - I'd read his books, admired his coaching, and thought he was one of the good one's - it was all crap. Talked to my buddies and boys about the upcoming Bills year - they're all predicting 10 wins and a playoff run. I'm thinking maybe seven wins. I tried to tell my son to root for 7 and be happy with anything over that. I'm just thinking it's about time I lower my expectations. Lower expectations leads to less heartache. Life is essentially a struggle - why fight it. Expect nothing and be happy when it comes. It's certainly been the year of the letdown. A couple of weeks ago I was golfing with a few buddies - we play with a mulligan available per round. We stepped up at a hole t...

Hopefully Ted Kennedy will be remembered for more than a car accident, but I doubt it. For those who hate him because a). He's a Kennedy b). He's a liberal or c). because of the accident - I say just one thing: He stood up for other people. No matter what his sins - he was a champion for those less fortunate then him - and that was a hell of a lot of people. My main beef today though is that goofy bastard from the Subway commercials - I was minding my own business last night and watching the Yanks (man, you gotta' get the bunt down Swisher) when Jared came on promoting the most recent Subway masterpiece. I flipped the station. An inning later, he was back. And the inning after that and the inning after that and the inning after that. And I'm not sure why I hate him. Perhaps because he lost all that weight and is continually in my face about it. Maybe because he's a goofy, dorky sort of guy who is famous for what? Making TV commercials. Of course, I don't hate hi...

Growing up we always had dogs in the house. Thinking back on it, I remember periods of my childhood based on which dogs were roaming the backyard on Shirley Road. I was just ten years old when one of our boxer's, Ricky II, hit the floor in my room in the middle of the night and did not survive the heart attack. Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still feel the pain of that night. Yet there have been so many happy memories and one that stands out is the way my mother would sing to our dogs, often repeating their names over and over as she made up songs. Unfortunately, my children have started to publicize that I do the same thing with my two dogs. Melky Cabrera how's your underwear-ah? is a personal favorite. Shadow basically has one song - Shadow, my shadow, my lovely Shadow I sing it to her all the time. She seems to enjoy my wonderful voice. Perhaps the lesson learned when Ricky hit the floor all those years ago is that time is short and it's best to love those that yo...