breakin’ the law
I have to say I was genuinely excited as I drove down the hill into downtown Fredonia, especially when I saw the familiar sign for Mary’s Deli. Now back in my day, there was a raging debate about who had the better pizza and wings. I was in Camp Mary’s, but lots of people were on the Gina’s Pizza, Wings, and Things bandwagon.
silver linings (playbook not required)
So I was out for a walk this morning with my friend, Neil Diamond. Neil and I aren’t close like Barry Manilow and I are, mind you. Neil doesn’t send me email. He just sings to me sometimes. And he reminds of the days when life was a lot simpler.
the definitive analysis of condiments
Summer has officially begun, which means we’re also into grilling season. Even in a socially-distant barbecue, you have to have your condiments straight. Enter me, with the only post you’ll ever need about which condiments to include on your picnic table, even if you’re the only one sitting there.
wake-up call
This is going to be a fairly radical departure from what you’re used to seeing from me. I don’t usually write about things as serious as this. Well, that’s not exactly true. I write about serious things all the time; I just don’t often publish them. It’s my way of processing situations I find stressful, painful, or otherwise distasteful. And truth be told, I think I’m better at writing than speaking. I still ramble—my favorite “editor” once described my writing style as “breezy”—but I try to do it in an accessible way. Anyway, if you’ve read my stuff before, then maybe buckle up. It’s about to get much more raw than you may be expecting.
the battle of the pauls
This isn’t some contrived Ric Flair versus Hulk Hogan thing where depending on the organization, you know which one will win. There’s no babyface versus heel thing here. Both Pauls seems to be genuinely good guys. Both have histories littered with awards, accolades, admiration, and adoration. Both played lead roles on their teams and have successful solo careers. But in this writer’s humble opinion, one is clearly superior. I’m speaking, of course, of the Pauls, McCartney and Simon.
from under a rock: episode ii
Sometimes it takes a while for things to sink in. So, I decided to wait 18 months before writing a second piece about the music I’ve missed while my extensive CD collection and I were resting comfortably under a rock.
unnoticed by design
Do you remember your first coach? I’m not talking about a sports coach. Not necessarily. It could be, but it doesn’t have to be. For me, a coach is someone who sees your gifts and encourages you to use them. Someone who sees your gaps and helps you fill them. Someone who sees your potential and guides you toward it.
My first coach was my grandmother. I write about her a lot because she was awesome. Think of the most awesome person you know. Then apply a factor of 10. That would be her.
cupcakes and juice boxes with a twist of lime
I should probably start by saying this will likely make some of my dearest friends… cranky. But please leave the knife in the cheese (unless you want some cheese) and play along, okay? Okay.
I’ve really been trying to avoid writing about politics. Mostly because there are people I care deeply for with very strong views on both ends of the spectrum, even if some of them believe they’re moderate. And partly because I’ve actually been enjoying some political discussion—the texts and conversations I have with my son during the Democratic debates.
crushing cliches
To me, beauty lives inside a person. It makes itself known through their eyes, and more obviously, their mouths.
A smile is often the first thing I see in someone. Does it appear genuine? Is it so big it takes up the person’s whole face? Do the eyes match the smile? That combo, my friends, is pure beauty that can’t come from the skin. And you don’t need to look very far to see it in the wild. Just spend some time observing people at restaurants, the airport, or even your local gym.
the letter z: plural
There are lots of things I could or should be doing right this very minute. I’m traveling for work, so there is an endless list of client tasks I could be cutting into. Well, not endless. Long. Long enough that it would spill onto the back of a page if anyone used the backs of pages anymore. I even promised my client—the company’s CIO—that I would do one of the things on that list tonight. And I will. Probably. Just not now. Because I’m doing this.
the russians are meddling with my website
I find it somewhat bewildering and often amusing when I clean out the spam filter on my site. The Russian stuff is pretty new, but I guess it could be related to all this Mueller report hullabaloo. Won’t they be disappointed when they figure out how few people actually read my blog?
this food bully’s reign of terror must be stopped
There’s a new villain in kitchens across the world, and it’s even more nefarious. This one isn’t just drowning our food. It’s a flat-out bully and it needs to be stopped. No, I’m not talking about ranch dressing. Ranch dressing is certainly among the assholes of the food world, but it’s no bully. The bully in question isn’t even a condiment. Or a sauce. Or a goop of any kind, although I suppose you could make a really disgusting bully-pudding out of it if you wanted to. The bully I’m talking about is the evil red onion. Mmm. Red onion pudding. Sounds delicious, doesn’t it?
the spirit of christmas
Maybe the new glasses have triggered the sentimental ball of mush I prefer to keep from most people (or at least I think I do). Maybe it’s because I’m inching closer to a milestone birthday. Maybe it’s because I’ve been listening to Christmas music all week. Or maybe it’s because I work six seconds from my bed, so I haven’t worn pants to the office since I got back from Australia. Relax HR friends. I wear shorts… as far as you know.
a little mass hysteria among friends
I’ve been a curious person for much of my life. I ask a lot of questions. And I like answers. It’s fun to figure things out. Even more fun when I’m right. So, what am I right about? It was seriosity, not curiosity, that did in our friend, the cat.
As it turns out, I think this has all been a massive conspiracy to keep people like you and me from questioning things. Maybe even a means of avoiding change. No, I’m not going political. And I’m not going to sing the praises of my millennial friends again—although I do love a millennial that defies the stereotype.
what’s on your playlist?
I’ve done a fair bit of travel for work, fun, and family over the last few years. Admittedly, much of my travel was in my car or a Penske rental truck, which is why you get to hear about my musical stylings, as well those of the folks kind enough to give me a ride in exchange for money. Also because I love music and I often find myself writing about it. All good reasons, yes?
un-silent lucidity: a case for bathroom unity
Before I start, let me just say this is in no way political commentary. Much like the anthem debate, I’m betwixed and bewildered as to how it’s even become a government matter. But then again, we did pay for an entire Congressional inquiry over steroids in major league baseball. Someone help me… how many millions did that cost us? And what, exactly, did we gain from it?
But that’s not the point. The point is that something as monumentally stupid as where people pee is apparently an issue that can only be solved by a bunch of old white guys in the federal government. Because they’re so good at making decisions that represent the people who elected them.
you keep using that word…
In the last several years, I’ve worked with some very smart people in researching in how a company’s values align with the personal values of the people who work there. We ask people what things they value most, and the very first thing that comes out of many mouths is “fairness.” Oh, if only that’s what they really wanted. But in the immortal words of everyone’s favorite Spaniard, Inigo Montoya, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”
hug a millennial
It’s possible I’ll get some backlash over this, but in my experience, Millennials are huggers. I am neither a Millennial by birth, nor a hugger by nature. I’m a Gen-Xer who often feels at least a twinge of angst when confronted with the notion of hugging a stranger. So, I confess that I’m a little jealous of the ease with which I see my younger counterparts navigate social situations. Not all of them, of course. You can’t paint an entire generation with the same brush, which is really what I want to talk about.
the morning after pill
Full disclosure. I waited a few days before starting this sequel to my pre-reunion musings. If it were a real “morning after” situation, I might be more nervous. Especially at my age. But thanks to a couple precision snips and what I like to imagine as a soldering gun for doctors, that hasn’t been a concern since before there was a real “morning after pill.”
thirty years can give you such a crick in the neck!
Has it been that long? Most days I don’t feel as old as I must be to have a 30-year high school reunion coming up in a month. But if I’m being honest, the other days I feel considerably older. So, I guess it all balances out. Three decades ago I was one of a few hundred kids who assembled at the Kenan Center in Lockport, New York for our graduation ceremony. Let me pause for a minute to reminisce about the Kenan Center…