memories and inspirations
… inspirations can be everywhere—sometimes much closer to home than you notice. Much like Rik, my cousin Mike Gagliardi was an inspiration to me. He is probably the most talented person I know. He’s easily the best hockey player Lockport, New York has ever produced. And that’s as much a fact as green olives being the best pizza topping and blue cheese over ranch on wings. So please don’t even try to argue. It makes you look silly.
not my disney world
I’m going to catch a lot of shit for this but I find it’s best to just come out with these things. I’m not the world’s biggest fan of DisneyWorld. I liked it better when I was a kid. When I could watch The Wonderful World of Disney on TV. Escape from Witch Mountain. Herbie the Love Bug. The Incredible Mr. Limpett. That was my Disney.
cooking goats with gas, grins, and shinola
Growing up in one of the few places wedged between Buffalo, New York and Canada can be a bit of a sheltered existence at times. I’m not talking about weather, although we typically got a lot less snow than our friends in South Buffalo. Some in my family would say they deserve to have more snow because they’re Polish—Polocks is what they’d call them.
retired
I was five years old and didn’t own a pair of skates, but that didn’t stop me from bundling up in my snowsuit, big boots, stocking cap and gloves to join the game each morning with my cousins. We’d pull the nets—a homemade “product” my uncles made from narrow piping and chicken wire—onto our rink and just like when we played in the driveway, I’d tape on some foam rubber or strap on the plastic Mylec pads and pull my white mask (made famous by Jason in the Friday the 13th movies) right over my hat.
life on the ridge
Now that I’m an adult, I realize how different my childhood really was—at least for the 1970s. Back then, I thought everyone lived next door to their aunts & uncles and that life was all about baseball in the backyard in the summers, and freezing the ball field for pick-up hockey in the winters. It’s funny how the past doesn’t really change, but your perspectives on the past are shaped by present-day events.