Thoughts of a Common Man

A few of my good friends lost their Dads recently. My heart aches for them because I know what is going to happen now. They are going to be driving somewhere in their car and a song is going to come on the radio and they're gonna' think: 'I gotta' call Dad.' Or a political leader will stand up and say something stupid and the first impulse for Chuck and George and Chris will be to grab the phone and dial the number. It's going to happen. And I know that there will be moments when something that their Dads said will ring around in their minds as they deal with someone who doesn't deserve every ounce of their kindness. And they will laugh. The real sad part of it, for me, is that I knew Chuck's and Chris' and George's Dads a little bit. Not enough, of course, but enough to know that they were hardworking, honest, good men who lived full and happy lives and did it the right way, of course, with a love of family, the country and a few l...

You know who I'm sick of? 1). Justin Bieber. First off, every time I get one of his songs on SongPop I miss it because of one very fundamental reason: I think it's a woman singing. Secondly, in the last few weeks I've heard about a photo of him smoking pot. I read an article about a camera guy getting run down and killed while trying to get his picture, I saw a photo of his ass crack on Twitter. (Believe me, I wasn't looking for it), and then I find out that he's down in the dumps because he got dumped by his hot girlfriend. Please go away. You know who else I'm sick of? 2). The two freaking Harbaughs I don't care. Football is a couple of brain injuries away from going to flag football and I've already had enough of the jokes about the Har-Bowl and how sad one of them will be to see the other one lose. I just want to win a square or two and see a little of the actual game without having to look up Ray Lewis' nose as he weeps because h...

I woke up on Sunday morning knowing the date...January 27th...a shitty day. One of those days that we, as a family dread, as it was the day when Jeff was stricken. I headed off to do some of the chores that are critical to a family...grocery shopping, mainly. I tried to ignore the date on top of the paper, on my phone, and on the Yankee calendar that hangs in my office. Then I saw Sam running around and he mentioned it. And I grunted a bit. Then he asked about my Mom. "What's she doing today?" I didn't know yet. A little while later I went to Facebook. Sam had written this: ‎4 years ago today was a horrible day for everyone. The funniest man on the planet was hurt. And that just shows that you should spend every single waking moment with your family because you never know when it will be the last. Our family isn't even close to being the same after that. So even if your mad at someone you should just forgot about it because your family. Every family pa...

That photo was taken in the 4th grade. I swear to God my mother laughed all the way from the optical joint back to the car knowing that she'd just sentenced me to a tortured life of ridicule. How I hated those glasses. Corinne and John called me Clark Kent. That, of course, is the shot from my high school yearbook senior year. I weighed 135 pounds. I had so much hair that it was just plain unmanageable. Chicks didn't dig me despite the fact that I was handsome. Am I right ladies? And I have just one question. What in the hell happened? Hair...gone. 135 pounds? I'll never see it again, and if I start to go in that direction, please shoot me at 150 because it'll be a bad illness. That's erosion, pure and simple. And you know what the worst part of it is? I still feel bad about the Clark Kent and four-eyes comments. It's passed so quickly. I oughta' be a real sight in 30 more.

I heard a Bruce song the other day - go figure - that took me back to another place and time, and while it's strange, the lyrics popped into my head from this song - None But the Brave while I was considering another song - Beat It , by Michael Jackson. It's funny how the mind works. It tricks us, from time to time. Let me set the scene. I returned to the Buffalo area on my very first break from college. I'd only been away for a month, but it seemed like forever as I had been anxiously awaiting visiting an old high school girl. I stepped into the bar, and unbelievably headed to the dance floor with her. She seemed as if she really missed me too, but the first chords of the biggest hit of the year - Beat It - blasted through the speakers and that girl looked right past me, her eyes searching the place. For someone else. Right then. Right there, I knew that my high school crush was over. As Michael Jackson played she searched for someone else. Now, of course...

I was listening to the Jay Thomas Show on Friday morning and of course they were in on the Manti Te'o story, making fun of how goofy the kid sounded as he got fooled by his 'girlfriend' who may have actually been a man. I love Jay, believing that our senses of humor are similar but he seemed as confused as I felt. How can someone be tricked so badly? The one nagging question for me being that if you truly love someone and there's trouble in their lives don't you try and help them? Whatever...the story is a dead-issue to me. The kid is a dopey bastard. He should be just fine making a king's ransom chasing someone carrying A BALL. What got me about it is the way that social media plays such a role these days. I like to consider myself a Facebook Artist. If I could, I'd add it to my resume. There are a few things I look for: 1). FEEDING THE MACHINE I love finding someone who is amped up on a issue. The issue isn't important. What's essent...

I saw a shot of Obama and Michelle at the big gala and it got me thinking: First off, doesn't anyone temper the president's remarks? If so, someone should have mentioned to him that saying that he "liked the first lady's bangs," could have been construed to have a different meaning in the mind of a warped blog-writer. Secondly, can you imagine the festivities if I were ever sworn in at anything? The president looked gracious. He was dressed to the nines. Nary a mustard stain. He extended his hand to his wife and she demurely reached out to grab his. Elegantly they danced with all the moves deftly performed. Cut to Cliff and Kathy at their ball. And here's the first lady in her brown sweat pants from Target. She's wearing a matching brown top with a hood that is attached but rarely used. The president is wearing a Yankee t-shirt with the name Ruth on the back and the number three below. The president, of course is a fan of the 27-Time, World C...