Thoughts of a Common Man

It's funny, but I've always had the ability to really get down about something that happens in another part of the world to people I don't know. I've heard that compassion and empathy are good traits, but the older I get, the more I wonder. That shooting near Cleveland really gets to me. My heart sank when I saw the two words together - "School Shooting" - can there be two worse words in our modern language? And I say modern because it wasn't part of our language as we grew. The worst that might happen back in the day was a fight in the hall. Kids grow up a lot quicker now, I guess, and they gun each other down. They gun each other down!!!!! On Tuesday the news kept trickling in...a second student died...there is no apparent motive...the kid was a loner...the kid was being bullied...a third student died...parents running to the school...kids racing down the hall...teachers with their lives on the line...no metal detectors at the school. No meta...

Sports can really be a training lesson for the kids. You see, here in Buffalo we have a major push going on right now. The Sabres are trying real hard to secure the 8th spot in the NHL Playoffs. They were way back a little while ago, but they are playing better. The trade deadline was also staring us in the face this weekend, so I opened up the discussion with my boys. Should the Sabres continue to try and win this year or pack it in, make a few trades, and go hard at it in 2013? I tried to impart a bit of wisdom by letting them know that in the long history of the league no team has ever won the cup from below the top ten positions in the league. It's never happened. "They still have a chance," Sam said. This was my chance to discuss planning ahead with him. I wanted to let them know that by studying history we can make sound choices about planning what to do. Wishing something to happen without making it happen doesn't work. You want it? Work for it. Plan it...

Do you want the good news or the bad news? All right, let's be optimistic and break the good news first: All of the oil companies are going to post record profits in 2012. That's the good news. The bad news? It's going to cost us about $4.50 a gallon over the next few months. Now excuse me for having a tiny little brain that cannot comprehend such sophisticated matters but as the kids might say: WTF? It's never made sense to me. How do you post record profits and hand out unbelievable salaries and bonuses while also setting record high prices for your product? I tried to read an article on it this morning. I quit halfway through. They speculated....how's that for a nice word on the subject...about the unrest in Iran. The speculated about people driving more in the summer months and that may drive up demands and because the refineries are old there may be problems there. They speculated that perhaps Americans should try and not drive so much. A few qu...

Just to catch everyone up because I know you're anxious to hear about my struggles. "You're a freaking mess," my therapist said as she laughed. Let's go back...how did that statement come forth from her very professional point-of-view. I went to therapy on Thursday...nothing major, move this, stretch that, hold the leg up for twenty seconds. Basically it was the sort of stretching that we used to do before we played three hours of basketball. I was gone in a half an hour. Through the rest of the day, and all through the next 48 hours, I felt like crying whenever I moved. It was as if I'd lifted weights for 6 hours. So, I headed back in on Friday. "How are you feeling?" my used-to-be-friend the therapist asked. I just laughed. I told her the story of waking up at 3:30 in the morning because my back, neck, ass, leg, knee and shoulders hurt. "Tell me what you did when you opened your eyes," she said. "Don't leave any...

Just got done reading the news article about the mother and grandmother that made the 3rd grade girl run until they told her to stop as punishment for eating candy without asking. The kid died after having seizures. Mom and Grandma are up on murder charges. There are always stories like this. I remember the poor kid that lived with his abusive mother and father in the apartment below where I lived in New Haven, Connecticut. Jose was about seven years old in 1988. He's pushing 30 now if he made it. I hope he treats his kids better than his Dad treated him. You see, Jose's Dad liked to get high and scream. I'll never forget the day he was screaming at Jose to help him out. This is a direct quote, so don't get mad at me. "Hey you little fucking faggot, go in the house and get my joint out of the ashtray!" Jose retrieved it for his Dad. It was also about that time that I talked to Jose. He told me that he got afraid of his Dad when he 'drank too...

Isn't it weird what you dream sometimes? Last night I had a couple of strange ones. The first of which made my skin crawl in the real world. About ten years ago I lost a friend of mine to brain cancer. She was actually the bartender at the bar where I grew up (sort of). She was a gruff, sarcastic, wonderful woman who got sick and never got better. I was crushed by her loss. A lot of why I grieved her was because of her two sons who were good guys, and her husband, who now had to go it alone. I lost touch with all over the last year. That's why last night's first dream was so profound. I saw her in good health, behind the bar, wearing a huge smile as she greeted me. It was as if she were outside the dream, though, and standing in my bedroom. She was at her sarcastic best. In the morning, I texted her son. Here is the exchange. Now mind you, it's been at least a year since I spoke to him, and ten years since she passed. Me: Yo, dude. How are you? I had a drea...

Remember when you were young? There was always something to do for fun. I truly recall bouncing a ball off the garage at my parents home to see how many I could catch it in a row to set my all-time record. Then there were the days of playing basketball, alone in the yard, being every single player from both the Philadelphia 76ers and the Portland Trail Blazers when they met in the NBA Finals. (It was 1977, I believe).If I was Maurice Lucas I shot from mid-range. If I was Mo Cheeks it was firing them up from downtown. I played a lot of ball on my own before my brothers joined in and turned it into the slug fest it became. As I grew older, of course, the avenues for fun changed. We used to camp out a lot. We'd walk the railroad tracks drinking beer. Then we figured out that girls were kind of cool. Between the beer and trying to get the girls the very definition of fun really changed. I didn't 'get' many. Through the adult years there was a lot of fun to be had...