A Great Weekend

Is anything better than being with friends? This weekend was a perfect example of how much fun you can have just letting go of everything for awhile and being with the people you enjoy the most.
Right now, that is the friends I've made at Peoria.com.
With one coming down from Michigan for a few days, we spent Saturday Evening at Kouri's on their awesome patio, eating, drinking, and laughing ourselves silly.
Sunday, although it started with a scare in the form of rolling thunderstorms, the afternoon turned out to be perfect for a cookout at Grandview park. Over both days I met new people,made new friends, played with the kids 'till I was exhausted, ate a lot, drank a little and enjoyed being outside and out of the house.

You guys rock, and I can't wait to get together again!!

Peoria Speaks

The drama, oh, the drama.

Peoria Speaks (PS) is a message board, local to the Peoria, IL area, and is a spin-off from the message boards found at peoria.com (PDC).
It was started by the renegades who, for some reasons or other, had gotten banned from PDC.
When Bridget and I discovered PDC, she was not so well received there, and because we shared an IP address, we were both banned. I did manage to convince the administrators that, since I had no problems there, to allow me to return.
In the interim, we found ourselves invited to PS by one of the honchos from that board, a teacher from East Peoria.
The site is run by a local attorney and has a cast of regulars that cover every part of this area.
I liked that site alot, and was well received and because of the ongoing problems I have with Bridget, who wore her welcome out at PS pretty quick, too, was shown alot of understanding and felt like I was taken in as part of the group.
In theory, this is supposed to be the less judgmental, clique-free, liberal message board, and that's my kind've place.
We got together for a baseball game, I was given the idea to start his blog from the people there, and I just liked everyone.
Little did I know.
As the weeks went by, the people at PDC warmed up to me more, and I made some good friends there too. I believe that this was the root of the animosity that began to surround my presence at PS. The warm welcome was turning into a cold shoulder, which began it's culmination last weekend, when I was invited to a party at the lawyer's beautiful house.
Without going into too many details, several things happened that night.

First, I was asked why I had come to Peoria and I relayed the story of the demise of my trucking company, my early failure at Home Improvement sales, the eviction from our apartment, all leading up to us coming to Peoria.
Apparently, telling the story was a bigger deal to several people at the party, who were not part of the conversation, but had overheard it.

Secondly, Bridget's high school boyfriend, who it turns out lives across the street, showed up.
This is a guy that did bad things to her and my instinctive reaction was to want to kill him, but I didn't. I ignored him, and told the person who let me in on who was know that I was freaking out inside.

Thirdly, towards the end of the night, teacher and others decided it was time to tell me exactly how fucked up I was in my dealing with the situation at home.

Now, none of these things seem like a whole lot, but apparently, they were. Because several days later, I was literally attacked in the PS shoutbox by the teacher, who loves to tell me how fucked up I am by not murdering Bridget in her sleep and hanging the body out by the curb for the world to see. How I'm apparently a wimp, because I choose to try and keep things amicable, instead of building even more anger and hatred between each other.

Over the course of the next few days, I was reminded by the teacher over and over of just how fucked up I am, which culminated in her leaving the deleted comment on my last blog entry, which basically called me an asshole for having Cable TV, when I'm having financial issues.
I don't see cable as a luxury. I have kids, and I never leave the house, so to me, cable is another utility, a necessity, and that's it. It's my choice to pay for cable, and if anyone has a problem with that, then I apologize, but it's my problem, not theirs.
After seeing the comment, I went to PS, and sent the teacher a message asking her to just not acknowledge me or anything I post. Just to basically leave me alone. Then, as I perused the board, I saw she had put up a post apologizing for the shoutbox fight, the week before, but NOT for the comments made since.
Apology acceptance is up to the person who receives the apology, not the person who delivers it. Apologizing is admirable, but it doesn't make the wounds automatically heal. Yet I was lambasted for not immediately accepting her apology and apparently I was supposed to beatify her, which I totally did not do!
But, after a time, I relented, cooled off and apologized back, and then all hell broke loose. Snide, rude comments from the lawyer, from the teacher, and from the board primadonna, the bird lover, who shocked me the most as I have displayed nothing but admiration for this woman.

I will admit right now, that my apology was weak as I really feel that I have nothing to apologize for. I'm constantly told that what I'm going through is nothing compared to what these poor martyrs have endured. Regardless of what anyone HAS gone through, I'm going through it now, and it's not easy, but it makes it worse when your suspected friends go all out to make you feel insignificant. Make you feel that your emotions are not real, or are overblown.

Then today, after a final attempt to apologize and move on, I was told I was banned, although I wasn't and I decided to just leave.

These are my final thoughts to these people:
Teach, you're a bully. As is the case with most bullies, you have shortcomings, and your hobbit-like figure is the least of them. You can't stand to see someone else going through a hardship without making them know that you endured much worse and that they should just grin and bear it. That is selfish and insensitive. I thought we were friends which to me means that no matter what the circumstances are, as a friend, you should be sensitive beyond all else. It's no wonder your best friends are fellow bridge trolls.

Lawyer, you disappoint me the most. You're a lawyer who doesn't understand reason. How is that even possible? You offered me understanding and friendship and then pulled it back the moment I began to depend on it. That's just dirty and shows your true colors as self cengtered bitch, who can't stand it when she doesn't get her way or gets called out.

The both of you and your audacity to tell me how I'm supposed to feel, and react and what I'm supposed to say is pure arrogance and it's disgusting. You don't know me, nor did you ever really want to, which is fine, because now, you never will.

Bird lover, you disappoint me the most, because I held you in very high regard, as a regal, classy lady who knew how to shine, even though I KNEW what you had been through, and your disgusting comments to and about me were uncalled for and a sure sign of ignorance and weakness. I know what goes on in your house. And it's a shame that you call ME a joke. At least you have a nice big house to show off when you're hiding your black eyes and bruises.

You three are the very example of everything you accuse the folks at PDC of being. And as much as you try and make people believe that you don't care about PDC, you sure have a knack for knowing everything that hapens over there as soon as it happens. Pure jealousy and regret are so evident in your actions. You're so wrapped up in your own self-image, that you're not able to see anyone else for they really are. Only for who you want them to be and when they don't fit your vision, you attack.

There are great people on PS that I'm going to miss alot. And that's pretty much everyone I didn't name.
I would have liked to have gotten to know you all better, but that won't happen now.

And, by the way, you're so insecure about yourselves, I give it less than an hour before this blog is talked about between you.

It Just Keeps Piling Up, Doesn't it?

Freaky Friday, or more like, freaked-OUT Friday, is what yesterday must have been.
I can feel the horror of a long, hard traveled road coming to an end, and instead of dying peacefully, it has to kick and spit blood in my face, right to the very end.

Anxiety, or anxiousness at the inevitable end of my life with Bridget is overbearing at this point. It's like a long prison sentence nearing it's end and I can't sleep at night, knowing those iron gates are close to closing behind me permanently, but the last leg of this time served is becoming the roughest yet.

And it's all about the one thing that the bulk of our problems has been at the core of; Finances! Money, and the never ending lack of it.

In June, when the landlord, Steve, came to collect the rent, I didn't have all of it, and I explained to him that the next few months were going to be rough and that I'd probably be late through the end of August. He gladly agreed to work with me, and that he understood.
God I hate a liar.
After much harassment and many threats from him, I did pay off the June rent, just in time for July to arrive. Yesterday, he came looking for money and I had none for him.
To backtrack a bit, on Wednesday, the phone was turned off, and the water company has been due to cut me off since the 30th of June, but miraculously, I've been spared, to date. Knowing I was in a jam, I asked my boss if he could loan me 500 bucks, which he unblinkingly said yes to.
I love my boss, man. He is one of the good ones, when he wants to be.

Wednesday, he left for the day, Thursday he told me that he would include it in my Friday paycheck and knowing I wouldn't have the rent, I was excited about catching up the phone, water, and with my raise that I'm expecting to kick in this week, the cable and Rent A Center.

As he handed out the checks, as we left for the day, he told me that he couldn't write the check for my loan, but he'd have it Monday. OK, it sucks, but I can live without a phone for a few more days, and the water's not getting shut off over the weekend. Then I looked and voila! No raise!.

And right as I got home and was in the middle of the endless fight that Bridget and I call communication, Steve showed up. So, I explained, I have no money this week and he started crying the blues about his bills and that he wasn't going to "carry me" anymore, so I lost it.
I told him that he should just go ahead and do what he needs to do, but on Monday, I'll be calling the Health Department to complain about the black mold in my bathroom that my children are exposed to, that he's known about for two years and has never lifted a finger to clean up. The next call, I told him would be to the building inspector so he can see the windows that are practically falling off the house, which I keep complaining about and the dead limb on the big tree in front that's ready to crash to the ground, that he ignores. The next call, I told him, would be to a lawyer to ask if he can legally kick me out when I'm only 10 days late with the rent. I mean, isn't that why I paid an extra month's deposit? In case shit like this happens?
So he stormed out, and returned a few minutes later with a poorly photocopied piece of paper demanding I pay up by the 16th or vacate.
I've played THAT game before so I have to laugh at his feeble attempt to try and come across as having legal precedence to give me a non-notarized, non-legal demand to vacate the premises.

Still, it's all just more stress on top of the mountain of the stuff I'm already buried under. But I still have to grin inside.

Because the prison gates are going to open for me, and freedom is at hand, if I can just make it to the next minute, the next hour, the next day and next week.

Wow, Peoria. Wow!

I'm not young. I've been going to Fireworks displays for most of the last 43 years I've been here.
And after while, they just become something to do on the 4th.
When I was a kid, we'd always go to Bassett Park, near where I grew up. It was a whole day's event, running around, eating, finding your friends and the Buffalo Philharmonic would play each year, and the fireworks were pretty damn good.

I've seen them in alot of places and two years ago, I saw them here in Peoria for the first time. I thought then, watching from a mile away that they were pretty spectacular.
Last year, we watched from the 6th floor of the hotel at the Par-A-Dice and that pretty much sucked. It's far away, on hard angle, and you're watching through a window.

Well, last night was the best ever. My friend Lynn, who's been my rock the last few weeks, once again, forced me at gunpoint to go with her.
We started the night with dinner at Jim's Steakhouse. Fine dining, fine food, fine company.
Then we walked down to the river to see if we could find a good spot to watch and check out the festivities, and hopefully, find a drink!

As we walked along the river, we found an empty space, occupied by two empty chairs so we pulled up to the wall, looked down at the water, then out to realize we were right there, at the very spot where the barge would be firing them off.

Being so close, I was almost a little nervous, but anxious too see the show from that vantage point.

Unbelievable, is all I can say. They were so in your face and vivid and loud and it was just mind blowing. So many thing I never realized before, like for instance, the showers of light happening just 20 feet above the launchpad. Or what it's like to see the multiples of color explode right in your face, almost causing you to duck a few times.

The only negative was getting yelled at an hour after we arrived by the mother of the two kids who had abandoned those chairs. When I tried to explain that the fireworks happened up, not out, and they'd still be able to see just fine, I found out, I'm not a gentleman after all, or so I was told! Wow!! Newsflash! Call the press. HipKat is not a gentleman!

Peoria, I'm the worst offender at dis'ing you and exemplifying the benefits of where I came from, but maybe it's time to spend less time looking back and more time looking around, because you really impressed the hell out of me last night.
And standing next to a young soldier, just returned from tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, his beautiful wife and their gorgeous 6 month old daughter (Brock, Brittany and Bailey!), I never felt more proud.

Thank you, Peoria!!!

The Dog Days...

And so, almost as soon as it arrived, we're moving into the middle of summer already and so many things are happening.
And I find having a hard time keeping my emotions steady, as I bounce biorythymically up and down, highs and lows.
The home situation is coming to it's apex, as she has started to move some things out. I'm so caught in my feelings about the whole thing and I can't rehash it all here but for every positive, there's an equally intense negative. The only thing not making the negatives more in my face is the total lack of consideration or sensitivity when it comes to me; the constant emotional manipulation I'm being subjected to and the text book way she resentfully keeps blaming it all on me.
I don't know what's best or what's right, but I do know that until she moves out and I have a minute to get a grasp of where I'm at, I can't move or decide on anything, because I'm so entwined in the chaos that all this has caused in my life. Fortunately, I've made some big-hearted friends that keep me in check, and keep me too occupied to dwell on the situation.

Work has definitely become a haven for me, as I adjust to running the department and instilling the organizing and structure that I feel will make the department alot more efficient and cost effective. In marketing, almost every aspect of the different departments is designed to make or save money, except in layout, where it's 100% cost based. Having talented designers who are in able to produce on time, with few mistakes and can keep filing, on the network and on hard copy straight and easily accessible by anyone in the office is vital.

My raise, which looks to be substantial should kick in this week or next and couldn't come at a better time. Everything is 2 months behind. Cut-off notices are piling up and the landlord is getting impatient. It's ironic how it always gets this way and right when things are bleakest, a break shows up. This raise is the that break and as much as I needed it two months ago, it's still timely.

I know that some of the people reading this have seen some examples of my stress and anxiety and I apologize to those who I may have rubbed the wrong way. You know who you are, and so do I. It wasn't personal. Just bear with me, please, friends, and it will all be something to laugh about someday when the skies are brighter.

A Step Up

You know, things happen when you least expect them to.
I work at a company I was recruited to by the former sales manager at my old job.
When he first came here, he pushed me hard to follow, but I resisted, because I wasn't sure if this was going to be a good move or not, even though, I hated my old job.
Still security says alot.
Well, last October, that security fell apart, so I made the move.

Now, I started out in sales, but was moved in the graphic design department, which meant a big pay cut, but a steady check. Sales is so up and down it's sunny one week and raining the next.
Anyhow, I was promised, after some departmental changes that I would take over as the department head, but right when that was gonna happen, they hired someone for the job that I learned alot from, but couldn't personally stand.

This morning, my phone rang, and it was the aforementioned manager, calling to tell me that he quit and is starting his own thing and wants me there.
At first, I said that I was loyal to him, and upon coming to work, it seemed that was a good choice, since this place was in an uproar. Seems like a few people are leaving with him, including my department head, finally fulfilling a many month's long wish that he would quit.

Well, the owner of this company called from the Moline office today and we spoke for about 30 minutes and I was reassured that I would be the new department head, no matter who comes in the door and that we would talk next week about a considerable raise.
Considerable being my word, because I have a number in mind that I need as bad as he needs an experienced manager to run this department, but from the call, I don't think that will be a problem.

Lesson learned: Security is a good thing, but loyalty, especially in the hard times , which has been questioned by a few people, usually pays off in the end alot better.

Or, not biting the hand that feeds you can result in some pretty good feed!

Son's tribute highlights memorial service for Tim Russert

Luke Russert: “I love you, Dad. And in his words, let us all ‘go get ’em!’ ”

Luke Russert borrows from ‘Big Russ & Me’ to comfort all those who mourn newsman from Buffalo

WASHINGTON — Walking to the podium at the Kennedy Center before a crowd of 2,000 that included a former president, the secretary of state and countless other “Meet the Press” guests, 22-year-old Luke Russert on Wednesday repeated the perfect words to comfort the millions who join him in mourning the loss of his father.

Luke Russert couldn’t find those words in W.B. Yeats, James Joyce or Mark Twain, but he found them in Chapter 20 of his father’s book “Big Russ & Me.”

In a chapter called “Loss,” Tim Russert wrote about his friend Michael Gartner, who lost his 17-year-old son to acute juvenile diabetes.

“After his passing, my dad phoned Michael,” Luke Russert said. “And he said to him, ‘Michael, think of it this way: What if God had come to you and said, ‘I’m going to make you an offer. I will give you a beautiful, a wonderful, happy, and lovable son for 17 years, but then it will be time for him to come home.’ You would make that deal in a second, right?’ ”

“Well, I only had 22 years, but I, too, would make that deal in a heartbeat,” the young Russert, beaming with pride, said in a strong and resolute broadcaster’s voice.

So would countless others who admired Tim Russert, the iconic “Meet the Press” host and South Buffalo native who died of a heart attack Friday.

A day after Russert fans drove from as far away as South Dakota and flew in from California for his wake, official Washington got its chance to pay tribute to the NBC newsman, first at a private funeral where Luke Russert delivered the eulogy and then at the memorial service where he shared the stage with the likes of Tom Brokaw, Brian Williams and Mario Cuomo.

Brokaw noted the extraordinary impact that Russert’s death has had on the nation.

“Since Friday, all of us have been swamped with e-mails and phone calls, strangers on the street, tears in their eyes, sharing their grief and sense of loss,” Brokaw said. “A postal worker with a heavy Spanish accent stopped me on the streets of New York sobbing, saying that he was sick — sick when he heard the news of Mr. Russert. A construction foreman stopped me and said he was so, so smart, and he seemed to be one of us.”

Like several of the speakers, Brokaw made special mention of Russert’s father and inspiration, “Big Russ”— Timothy J. Russert Sr. — who recently moved into an assisted-living facility in Orchard Park and could not attend the services.

“Big Russ, you may remember about a dozen years ago, you sent me this,” Brokaw said, showing off a mug from American Legion Post 721 in South Buffalo. “And for every morning since that time, it has been my first companion as I brush my teeth.” But no more.

“I’m going to set this mug aside. I’m going to save it for election night. I’m going to fill it with this Rolling Rock that I pilfered just today from Tim’s cooler, here in Washington,” Brokaw said. “And so on election night, Big Russ, I will raise this glass to you. For your gift to us of Tim and to your favorite saying, it was his and mine as well: ‘What a country.’ ”

Brokaw’s successor as anchor of NBC News, Brian Williams, noted that Russert’s last words before he collapsed, spoken to an editor at the network’s Washington Bureau, where Russert was chief, were words he spoke all the time: “What’s happening?”

“And he never made another sound,” Williams said. “[It’s] fitting probably because Tim was all about what’s happening, what’s happening with everybody and everything, especially along his power corridor, Buffalo to the Beltway.”

Although only one person from Buffalo shared the stage Wednesday, the city was as present throughout the memorial service as it was in Russert’s life.

One of his seventh-grade teachers, Sister Lucille Socciarelli of Buffalo, recalled how the 13-year-old Russert urged her to join the pupils on the athletic fields outside St. Bonaventure Elementary School.

“ ‘Go, sister!’ he’d say. ‘Run!’ Tim would shout, urging me on — rosary beads flying, veil flying,” she said. “Not only did Tim choose me for his team, he always picked the kids that he thought might not be chosen at all.”

Meanwhile, Cuomo recalled a visit to Buffalo with Russert, who served as an aide to the governor at the time, shortly after the state enacted its then-controversial seat belt law.

The governor’s car got struck from behind — and the governor, who sat in the front but forgot to buckle his seat belt, flew forward toward the dashboard. That prompted the governor’s car to come to a halt and the press to swarm around it, shouting: “How’s the governor?”

Russert, emerging from the car, replied: “Thank God for the seat belt!”

That was just one of the countless stories told at the service that showed both Russert’s wit and his warmth.

Former NBC reporter Maria Shriver — now California’s first lady — recalled Russert’s comforting calls when her mother, Eunice Kennedy Shriver, was going in and out of intensive care this past year.

“He talked with me about losing his own mother,” who died several years ago,” she said. “He talked to me about how it felt, how hard it was for him. He talked to me about where he found support, about the role of his faith in that struggle. He shared his struggle with me so that mine would be a little bit easier.”

And in a surprise appearance via video from Europe, where he is touring, Rust Belt rock poet Bruce Springsteen recalled performing at the “Today” show and seeing Russert beaming in the front row.

Springsteen and his band played a song called “The Promised Land” at the time. “It’s funny that we were playing that song,” Springsteen said. “I think Tim had a real belief in that promised land and in the American idea. And that was the passion that you heard behind all those tough questions on Sunday morning and — and in that big smile.”

Springsteen closed the memorial service with an acoustic version of “Thunder Road.”

Earlier in the day, the presumptive presidential nominees, Republican Sen. John McCain of Arizona and Democratic Sen. Barack Obama of Illinois, sat next to each other during the private funeral Mass at Holy Trinity Catholic Church in Georgetown. Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, D-Calif., Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid, D-Nev., and New York Gov. David A. Paterson also attended.

The afternoon memorial service was no less star-studded. Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton, D-N. Y., made her first public appearance here since suspending her presidential campaign 11 days earlier. Her husband, former President Bill Clinton, accompanied her.

But all the while, the focus was on the stage, and especially on Luke Russert, who eulogized his father with a mix of humor and honor that would have done his father proud.

“I ask you, this Sunday, in your hearts and in your mind, to imagine a ‘Meet the Press’ special edition, live from inside St. Peter’s gate,” Luke said. “Maybe Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr will be on for the full hour debating.”

Calling his father “a force of nature,” he added: “Now his own cycle in nature is complete. But his spirit lives on in everybody who loves their country, loves their family, loves their faith and loves those Buffalo Bills.

“I love you, Dad. And, in his words, let us all ‘go get ’em!’ ”

Father's Day

Today is Father's Day and that has me thinking so many things at once.
I love my daughter's, who are too young to get Father's Day, but to me, they make everyday like Father's Day.
As far as the traditional things that are supposed to happen on this day, it won't be like that here. I'll still be the primary parent all day and the one that takes care of the house, kids etc.
But that's ok, because soon, I won't have these other people here, and that will be very hard.
Housework will be nothing, but not seeing my little girls go to bed every night should be the worst thing a father can face, other than the loss of a child.

I know alot of "dad's" these days, are not up to the job, but to me, being a father is what keeps me breathing. It get's me up in the morning and it wraps itself around me, every waken moment.

My Dad, well, he died almost 20 years ago from Cancer.
But he was never in my life much. My parents split when I was four and I only saw him sporadically throughout the year. Maybe twice at the most, but I still remember my Dad and Mom together. Something my younger brother will never know.
My Dad and I were buddies. I was his favorite, by far, and he made every moment that he was there worth it by treating me like I was his favorite.
We'd go to "the pop shop" (the bar) together when I was a kid and I'd play pool with the other regulars.
When I was older, he'd take me to Pro Wrestling events, hockey games, etc.
I remember that when my parents were together, my dad would come home and make me find the treat he'd always have, usually a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup, which I still love today.

When I was in the Army we wrote more than I did with anyone else, and afterward, we did a few small construction jobs together.
My Dad was rugged, a tough Norwegian brick layer who took no shit, and never backed down from speaking his mind.
But he was a drinker, and that led to the end of his marriage to my Mom and ultimately the cancer that took him.

I remember him coming over when I was about 9, and talking to my Mom while I hid on the stairs. He gotten pulled over, was drunk and beat the crap out of the two Cops and split. Back then, they didn't call your plate in before they stopped you so he never got caught for that.
My Dad also never disciplined me as a kid. That was my Mom's job. One night, before they split, I was four, my brother one, My Mom had gone out and he fell asleep so my brother and I decided to make a cake..... on the kitchen floor...... with every and anything we could open from the fridge and cabinets, then we put ourselves to bed.
I think I still have marks from the beating I got over that.

When my Dad died, I hadn't seen him much that last year, and My mom told me I best go before it was too late. I couldn't comprehend anything beating my Dad, so I was slammed when I saw him, in a hospital bed they had in the house. Frail, weak, old, looking (he was 56 but looked 100), he looked dead already. His wife woke him and asked if he knew who I was. With alot of effort, he raised his head and whisperd "my boy."

I cried that night in my girlfriends arms and a few hours later he was gone. Funny, I had premonitions for two weeks and that night, about 4AM, something dramatic happened in my room. I was momentarily paralyzed by a white "light" that lasted a split second and shook me up badly. A few hours later, the phone rang.
I never shed a tear again, until just now actually, nor did I ever visit his grave, but once soon after. I couldn't find it now if I had too.
But, I wonder if he watches me now. See's my kids, my hardships. Knows my secrets and my joys.
I hope he's not too disappointed.

I love you Dad. And I miss you alot. I wish you were here because I could really use you in my life right now.

Happy Father's Day!

Thoughts of Home

I find myself increasingly thinking about home, which, in case you've been on the moon,is Buffalo, NY.
I won't go into why I'm not there, because that's been talked about until it's blue in the face, but I'm here, and this is becoming more homey, but it's not really home. Summer in Buffalo is so amazing, and well deserved when it arrives each year after the long hard winters. There is no shortage of things to do, from the the ongoing ethnic and regional festivals to the abundant live music events, to the breezy warm days with the air blowing off of the great lakes.... It's just so nice. Old architecture and patio bars. City streets with unmatched window shopping and everything exudes an unmatched character. The smallest big city or the largest small town, depending on your perspective, mine being the latter, Buffalo is enigmatic.

But events ongoing have brought my thoughts back to the place I was born.

Tim Russert, well known for his 18 years hosting Meet The Press, died suddenly yesterday. The news hit me hard. I met him once, at a Bills game. My friend, Kirk, had season tickets right in front of owner. Ralph Wilson's box and we saw them both in the concourse before the game, so Introduced myself to Tim, and expressed my appreciation for rooting for the city in the show.

He never let go of his roots, South Buffalo, an enigma itself, inside the larger enigma that Buffalo is, and talked about or referenced the city often. He was a son of Buffalo, that every citizen there knew lived somewhere inside Tim's heart. He cheered with and for the city, constantly, and this loss is being felt by the hundreds of thousands of people that call the city home.

In the late 80's and early 90's, the one time laughing stock of pro-football, The Buffalo Bills, became a dynastic league powerhouse, doing the unthinkable, going to 4 straight Superbowl's. Right in the middle of the defensive and special team corps, was linebacker Mitch Ferrotte, who's cousin is a backup QB for the Vikings. With long blond hair, a love of Harley Davidsons and loud music, and his signature "Alice Cooper" face paint on game day, Mitch was a large personality on that team. He was from a small town, Kittaning, PA, which is about 40 miles north of Pittsburgh. At the time, I worked for International Chimney, who owned a brick factory in that town. My first trip down, during The Bill's off season, I noticed a house across the street that was well adorned in Bills gear and when I asked, found out that it was Mitch Ferrotte's house. That day, he was in the yard, and I went and talked to him. Nicest guy, especially for a pro football player in an era when Athletic Ego's were starting to run amok. He was like talking to any neighbor, or random person you'd meet.

Mitch had a heart attack yesterday and died at the age of 43.

This weekend marks the 51st anniversary of the Allentown Art Festival, an event that sees the streets of the Allentown District of Buffalo shut down so hundreds of artists can show their talents.

I never miss this event, one of the largest and oldest of it's type in the nation. The weather seems like it's always beautiful, and the vendors, the food, the neighborhood...

It's just a great time and Buffalo tradition that draws hundreds of thousands from all over the country.

I found something new today on Google Maps called "Street View." I have no idea on how they do this, but you can actually see hi res images of most places from a street view perspective!! And you can rotate around, zoom in, and move in any direction. Anyhow, I lived in North Buffalo, and I wanted to post some great pics of my old 'hood, so here for your viewing pleasure, My Home!

Here's my old apartment, above the store. It was huge! From the corner of the building in the center of the page, going right, those three windows were the living room, as were the three together to the left of that corner! You can barely make out the CB antenna is still on the roof and the DishNetwork dish is still on the front window. I miss this place so much!

This is the view of the same building on Hertel Ave itself, which is a big strip that has a ton of restaurants, art galleries, stores, etc. A great neighborhood to live in. The canopied store front is Cafe Allegro, where they put Starbucks to shame. A great tradition was Sunday Brunch, which was always gourmet, and usually featured a string quartet from the Buffalo Acadamy of The Performing Arts. Kids playing classical music and doing it well!!

North Park Theater is a majestic old theater, with the plush velvet curtains, stage, etc and features artistic and independent releases. Vincent Gallo's Buffalo 66 had it's world premier there.

Bertha's, a diner that served Breakfast and Lunch was my favorite hangout. Sitting at the counter with a cup of coffee, one of Dave's enormous omelets, the newspaper and hours of talking about any and everything.

This is Wellington Pub, a local bar/restaurant with many good memories. The food is the bomb. My favorites were their Beef on Weck, a Buffalo tradition, that unlike chicken wings, is still exclusive to the city or "The Hertel"; A chicken sandwich with lettuce, tomatoe, mayo and cheese on a huge Keiser roll. The best was the Friday night Fish Fry, a weekly tradition for me, or clams on the patio bar! Next door is Bob & John's, with good pizza and huge subs.

La Pizza Club, though, is the spot for the best Pizza and Wings. Of course, within walking distance, you could get Pizza and Wings at 15 different places, but this was my favorite. Next door is one of the art galleries that I used to stop in at often.

Soon after I moved to Hertel, a friend of mine stopped by and we went exploring my new neighborhood. This was my favorite neighborhood bar. We walked in and the place was pretty empty, but a few things stood out. The bar tender and other three patrons were all men, there was a line of about 20 micro-brew taps at the bar and The Dirty Dozen was playing on both TV's! I knew I found a home. John, the owner is one of the nicest people in the world and this plain, not very fancy bar is a wonderful place to stop in and try one of many Brews, that John is an expert on, and talk to good friends.

This is the hose that Bridget and I lived in, just off Hertel, where our landlord stole everything we had. We rented the entire bottom half of this house, which is typical of the housing stock that you'll find throught the city. I love these big Victorians and WILL one day own one. It brings back memories though, of how beautiful we had it inside that house and all the precious things, a life collection that we lost there. I swear that's our patio furniture on the porch and I know my washer and dryer are probably still in the basement, along with my work out equipment

So that's a pretty good view of my old neighborhood, that I truly long to see again and promise to live in again. The people are very cultured and unique there, and this area represents "The City of Good Neighbors" in it's finest form!

Coming to a head

It's getting increasingly more difficult to maintain my composure around Bridget. I don't mean to be snippy, but I just can't seem to help it. It just comes out.
Why not though?
2 weeks after our 2nd daughter was born, in January, she started treating me like shit and hasn't stopped.
She had a 2 month affair with one guy, random sex with another, and is now involved with, whom she calls "the perfect guy for her" with NO concern for my feelings. No consideration. Nothing. Except some ridiculous expectation that I should just be cool with the situation.
I can't. I won't.

It's over!
She needs to go and plans to.
She's been with him for a month, and now, tonight, tells me she's moving in with him in a few weeks.
Yay, she's gone, but this just makes everything worse. Now my kids have a different adult male in their daily lives. My family is shattered and for what? Because this 30 year old teenager has no sense of loyalty to anyone but herself and everyone else has to suffer.

And it's not like they're teenagers. My oldest daughter is three. Do you remember being three? Probably not, so she'll forget that I put her to bed every night. My baby will never know.
Now someone else will be doing that. The first person they see in the morning and the last they see at night. How can she just take this away from me, so nonchalantly?
And on top of that, like a prison sentence, I'm trapped in this town now. I'm going to be in this fucking town for the rest of my life because of her selfishness. Staying here was never the plan.
I cannot leave as long as my kids are here and this is not my home. This is not where I want to be. Peoria is alright and I've met some cool people, but it's not home. And I've been miserable and broke since the day I got here.
Don't I get some say in this? Don't I have any fucking rights?
Pardon me if I think that having babies means the rockstar dream is over.
Pardon me if I feel like the family is the most important thing you can commit to.

I hate her.
I've said many times, I have not been perfect. I have issues, but instead of standing by me while I work through them, she acts like she HAS been perfect.
Oh, she'll admit to her mistakes but takes zero accountability for them.
Instead, she makes it all seem like it's all my fault. Probably how she justifies it to herself.
She has shit on me in the worst ways for the last 6 months, and I'm the one to blame?
Fuck that. I have no clue where to turn now.

Believe!

I have the ability and the right to achieve and do well in my life.I am more than just okay. I am a winner!
I believe in myself. I trust in who I am. I may listen to the ideas of others, but when it comes right down to it, I believe in myself and in all the potential I have within me. I respect myself and like who I am.
I'm pretty special, and the more I recognize the fact about myself, the more others recognize that it's true.
People like me. I am courteous, kind, thoughtful, and considerate. These are just the few of the traits that I possess that will benefit and reward me for the rest of my life. My words are golden.
I can be counted on. What I say, I will do. I always do. And I only agree to those things that are healthy, helpful, and beneficial to myself and others. By making a decision to win in my life, I have become one of those who decide to achieve the best. I deserve the best for myself, and the best is what I get. I see the personal responsibility as the beginning of all success.
I take responsibility for myself and everything I do and it shows! I take responsibility of every thought I think! I know what I think directs and affects everything else about me. I choose to think only the thoughts that guide support, direct, and enrich my life and the lives of others in the most positive way. I set goals for myself. I see myself reaching those goals. Each day I see my goals-and my future-more clearly. I believe in working hard and doing things right. I believe in achieving the best from myself. I know that I can achieve any goal I choose. I am a doer, an achiever, a worker, and A WINNER! I have mastered the skill of liking myself! By- Shad Helmstetter...A Behavioral Reseacher


Copied from www.peoria.com posted by teachermsmckeown

12 Steps to Recovery

So, I'm about to start a group therapy thing for codependency (ME!) and it's all based on a 12 step program, which I knew nothing about, but I'm sitting here reading what the steps actually are and it's pretty eye opening. It's a little glimpse into self-realization that I can see for the first time, ways that I affect the people I come in contact with.

Step One: I Realize I'm Stuck. It makes no sense to keep trying to solve my problems with "Solutions" that don't work.

Man, that is the viscous circle I've been in for a very long time. Anytime I try to break out, I'm immediately sucked back into it.

Step Two: I'm willing to let go of my usual ways, in the hope this will help me see things from a broader perspective.

See step one here, because they're directly related. Letting go of usual ways though, is a tough thing to do. Being a creature of habit, it's insane to me to think it will be easy to just do things completely different, and the idea is alot easier than the actions are going to be.

Step Three: I shift my focus, from being fixated on my problems, to seeking a sense of wholeness and contentment in my life.

This is not going to happen overnight either, as "my problems" are ongoing, although I need to learn how to deal with individual situations as they arise, and stop looking at everything as one big problem. Bridget moving out will give me room to breathe, but it's not the end-all solution to my problems.

Step Four: I honestly look at the effects of my actions on others and myself.

It's easy to be so wrapped up in your own world that you don't have a clue how you affect other people that you deal with day to day. I know I have an adverse affect, though, because I see alot of people, more or less, turn the other way when they see me coming, so to speak. In other words, for instance, breaks at work, I notice that lately, I smoke alone.

Step Five: I take responsibility for my actions.

This was actually my first realization, some time ago. I made choices that resulted in where I am now. I didn't listen to that little voice at times, when I knew I should be, throwing caution to the wind, and letting the chips fall where they may. Unfortunately, I rolled snake eyes almost everytime, and didn't really learn from those mistakes, like I should have. I also have procrastinated in making changes that would have alleviated this period of time in my life from being as twisted as it is.

Step Six: I see that my knee-jerk reactions have to do with being in the grip of more or less conscious fears.

I see this everyday as I explode, or implode or just snap at every reminder of what's going on around me. Any mention by Bridget of her and his relationship sends me involuntarily over the edge. And all of it because of my fear of losing my family, which may well stem from this actually being the first "family" I've ever known, but is that fear more for the good my family or my own selfish pride?

Step Seven: I strive to find my motivation in a deeper sense of who I really am, rather than fear and defensiveness.

I used to know exactly who I was, and I reveled in myself. Now, I feel so far away from who I am, that I can't stand who I've become, which is what motivated me to begin this path to recovery in the first place. But somehow, I became to weak to stand up and be myself, choosing instead to cower behind the wall I've built around myself. As I shut myself in, I must realize that I also shut everyone else out.

Step Eight: I stop blaming and feeling blamed, with a willingness to heal the wounds.

This could be very difficult, because it's easier to go with the crowd and blame Bridget than to stand alone and blame myself, but the truth is, I chose to let the events unfold that resulted in this place that we're both in. And living with the truth is alot more easier to bear the brunt of than to go against the tide and make a stand for what needs to be over what is and has been.

Step Nine: I swallow my pride and sincerely apologize to people I've hurt, except when it would be counterproductive.

What is counterproductive about an apology? How can you determine that? I have hurt alot of people, starting with Bridget, really, and my kids, to people I barely know and just brush by everyday.
Is a counterproductive apology one that is given to the person who will not accept it, understand it, and/or, when applicable, respond with an earned apology in return?

Step Ten: I live mindfully, paying attention to the motives and effects of my actions.

Actually, this would be a basic character trait of who I am, although I may not be heeding the knowledge of what certain actions may do to affect others in my life.

Step Eleven: I stay tuned inside, in touch with a broader sense of who I really am, and a deeper sense of what I really want.

As I said earlier, I once knew just who I was and what I wanted, which may have been my strongest trait. Reaching this place in my life again is a solid goal to achieve.

Step Twelve: As I feel better about myself, I reach out to others who feel stuck.

Another example of who I was, and that was the first person to "offer a shoulder" and the last to seek one, and now, I'm completely the opposite, desperately grasping out to anyone who will agree with me, defend me, take my side or however you'd want to put it.


Even writing these down spurs something inside me. A feeling of expectation, combined with a sense of queasiness and unease at my ability to follow through, something else I've never been able to master.

Woman

"Ungrateful little bitches, aren't they?
I want to ask you something. You all go to church.
Do you think God knew what He was doing when He created woman?
No shit! I really want to know.
Or do you think it was one of His minor mistakes?
Like tidal waves! Earthquakes! Floods!
Do you think women are like that?
What's the matter?
You don't think God makes mistakes?
Of course He does.
We all make mistakes.
Of course, we make mistakes, they call it evil.
When God makes mistakes, they call it...nature.
So what do you think?
Women...are they a mistake?
Or did He do it to us on purpose?!
I really want to know!
If it's a mistake, maybe we can do something about it!
Find a cure!
Invent a vaccine.
Build up our immune systems.
Get a little exercise.
Twenty push-ups a day...
...and you never have to be afflicted with women, ever again!" ...from The Witches of Eastwick

What is it with women? Certain women, anyhow, that they feel they can just walk all over you and there are zero repercussions!
Bridget and her new boyfriend get together, alot! And she always tells me what time she'll be home and she's always late. By, like, 5 hours. Now, I'm not stupid. I know what's going on, and that hurts enough, but you know what it really is?
It's not just that she's with some other guy. It's the way she talks to him. The way she dresses when she goes out with him. The way she is around him.
I see them walking into a place like they're rock 'n roll royalty, which is what WE were! Everywhere we went, people took notice. But she hasn't been that way around me in almost 3 years, and that is what has worn me down the most.
She says I act like I want her the most when she's with someone else, but it's not because she's with some other guy; It's because she's being the person I fell in love with when we first met.
Because, I don't mind doing things for my girl, if I feel like it's appreciated. Like I'm cherished, but with all the bad things that have happened, none of that matters, if you can just make the other person feel fucking important. And I haven't felt important. If she talked to me once like she does him, this might not be happening.
You know what I mean?
I can't believe I'm going through this again already. I just did 2 months ago, for crying out loud.

My shrink loves it that I'm dealing with it, and I know what the problem is. I know why I can't just let it go. Because I am a classic co-dependent. And so is she, but I doubt she would agree with that. And when two co-dependents get together, they suck the life out of each other, trying to hold on and pushing each other away at the same time.

Thank God for this blog, because, it's a good outlet that let's me not be so tense and bottled up around her.

The other bad thing is the fear.
Will I meet someone else? Will she end up happier with him than she's been with me? Or do the things we only talked about doing? Will she tell him our secrets, or have better secrets than her and I did?
I guess those are easily answered questions. Yes, at some point I'll meet someone else. If they do those things or are happier, it doesn't really matter, nor should I allow it to affect the path I have to follow.

My biggest fear is that she'll rise to the top, and I'll get left behind, but that's probably the dependency thing talking.
My really biggest fear though, is losing the connection with my kids. Or another man becoming the primary adult male in their lives. That just makes me panic, but I have to hold onto one certain fact; Her and I are broken, and broken, by definition means don't work!

Of Mice and Madness.....

Ever have one of those days?
It started out as a typical day, interrupted by a morning meeting with the art department and our office manager, who reiterated that Jim is the boss and that everyone had the opportunity to take the position, but we need to respect him.
I guess she forgot about how Matt, the owner played me and Richie, another guy, who has since left, against each other by telling each of us that we were going to run the department. Too bad he forgot to tell us that he had told the other the same thing.
I guess she also forgot that Jim was hired specifically to run the department. Anyhow, I know I didn't make any friends when I Called Jim out for running to her yesterday after mistakenly thinking I was arguing with the receptionist. Or that having to work til 5 every day (Yes, I'm spoiled) is not going to get us caught up. I easily have over a year's worth of projects myself, as do the other 3 people, so we're not going to make up ground by an extra hour everyday.
Beyond that, the day was pretty uneventful.

One cool thing; I finally called Albany, NY DMV to inquire about getting my license back and instead of having a dozen or so tickets preventing that, as I suspected, there's only two.
Two litte tickets and I can have it back. (Insert slapping self in forehead here). Where the rest went is my guess and no one elses to concern themselves with.
All good!

Until this afternoon, when I went to Heartland Behavioral Health Services to sign up for some of those happy pills that most of the country seems to be living on, these days. For some reason, even though my shrink wants me on the drugs, they decided I didn't need them. I guess my story of how my world was falling apart and how I couldn't cope with it, wasn't good enough.
Maybe a few razor cuts across my wrists? And I spent 150.00 for nothing? Like I have that to throw away. And I'm only doing it because I want to get myself straight, which I can do on my own once Bridget is gone, I'm quite sure.

Add that on top of the evolving situation with Bridget and her new boyfriend.
I've been trying to not let myself get too emotionally affected by this, but the last two days have weakened my defenses and it's bothering me.
Not so much that we're apparently done, but more that she just doesn't seem to give a damn about how it's affecting me. Or if it's affecting me. She does that though, not overtly care about the way I feel, ever, and after a whole week and a half, she's pretty much given her heart to this guy, who I would probably like alot myself, if we were friends.
I mean, his heart is in the right place. He's a punk rock legend, who has decided to make it a point to help further her stalled career, and being a fellow extravagant narcissist himself, fits her like a glove.
He's so nice, he gave her a little hoochie skoochie for me, and told her he could get me hired on where he works (He does the same thing I did before I moved to graphic design) AND give me a ride to and from work. I can only imagine the chit chat during the ride.
Look, Bridget and I, we don't work so well. I guess I just can't conform to being accused of causing all the problems in our relationship while she treats me like shit, walks all over me, has no regard for my feelings and expects the world to turn for her, exclusively. Add to that, she has a chip on her shoulder because I had a female friend, whom I texted, not hung out with, not had sex with, not had anything with while she was blatantly cheating on me a few months ago, right after our second daughter was born, and watched me tear my self to pieces over..
But, couldn't she wait until she moved out (or I did) before she fell in love again? Couldn't she show a little consideration towards the six years and two kids we've had together? Or the fact that us splitting basically strands me in Peoria, completely out of my element and away from my home?
Or maybe when I look at who I was when we met, a virtual mirror image of the new dude, and where I am now, broken and listless, I just feel enough resentment to hate her, but enough hopelessness to not want to let go, as if one day, everything will come back around again, and we'll live happily ever after.

Yeah, sure.

By the way.... I'm single!!

Control Issues...

...Or, if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

I love my job. I seriously do. I get to have an outlet for my creativity. I get to have my fingers all over a computer keyboard, err, as Bridget calls it, my mistress. And I just like what I do, even if I am grossly underpaid.
However, in everybody's life, a little rain must fall.

Recently, we hired a bunch of people who found themselves out of work when Advantage Publishing went under. The guy who was the operations manager there, Jim, is now the head of the art department and I seriously just cannot stand him. And I have a lot of reasons not to.
#1, he's from Boston. I'm from New York and people from New York hate people from New England. Especially if they're from Boston.
I get accused of being cocky, but Boston people are downright arrogant.
Secondly, he has this whole my way or no way attitude, and that just does not fly with me.
There are four basic things I cannot stand for.

1. Being talked down to
2. Being told something that I obviously already know
3. People who make my job harder
4. Playing the "superior boss/inferior subordinate employee."

This guy has to break all of those.
Before he showed up, I was in line to run the art department. And if Jim and my boss didn't go way back, I would be now. It would be different if I was a screwup, but the other two guys in the department have that covered.

Myself, I stay pretty quiet, do my job and do it well. I'm not behind on much of my work, and my filing system is a model for efficiency. I should qualify that the art department is always behind as a whole, because ads are coming in all day, every day, yet the projects themselves take time to layout. We divide all the states between the four of us. I get Alaska, California, Illinois, Indiana, Iowa, Maine, New York and Utah. Anything we design in those states, is up to me. I also do all the Mixed Martials Arts programs and Pro Wrestling Programs. So, it's a hefty work load, but I'm on top of it.

Yesterday, we lost email access. See, if I make an ad, I email the client a proof and become that person's first contact for any issues they may have. Now, it goes through a receptionist that has to print and sort the email, manually, because the two kids who work in the department, can't stay on top of their own messages.
Now, if I have a problem, I wouldn't want to talk to a receptionist. I'd want the person that can directly help me. I cultivate a relationship with the people who's ads I design. Years in sales probably taught me that, and it's a good trait to build a working relationship with your clients so you can serve they're needs by knowing them better.

Normally, we start at 8, and finish never later than 4:30. Usually earlier. But now, thanks to Jim, we're going to stay until 5 everyday. Even when the rest of the building goes home at 3, we'll be there.
We take a break at 10 and 3, and have lunch at 12. It used to be that if you wanted a smoke in-between, you just go have one. Not anymore. Why? Because people took advantage of it, and Jim thinks that we're losing productivity.
Me? I rarely do that, but if I finish something and I'm waiting for a printer to que my project, I go have a smoke. Those days are over.

But the biggest reason, is because when I questioned our receptionist on something about the email policy today, he thought I was arguing and ran to tell my boss, instead of asking me directly. And this is the department head? Shouldn't being a boss require you not be a total pussy?
No, this is the guy that was running the ship when Advantage went down in flames, which tells me something.
My way of filing, too, is the most efficient and organized, and has been noted as such by the managers, yet Jim wants things done his way, which is a total mess.
I'll never conform. Actually, I am a total non-conformist, especially when it comes to stupidity.

Poor Jack. All work and no pay!

Before I die....

Have you ever wanted to do something before you die?
I've had a mental list of the things I want to do in my life for as long as I can remember and I've done alot of things.
I've seen the country. Lived in may parts of it, like Los Angeles, San Diego, Austin & San Antonio, TX, Washington, DC...
I've owned businesses, and sang in bands with bonafide' rockstars, like several members of the band Krokus. I've seen a thousand concerts, most of them from backstage, and and have been half way around the world and back.

But here is the list of things that I must acomplish before I die.

• Quit smoking for good
• Get my body back in peak condition

Ok, those are the obvious ones, but here's the good stuff.

• Watch a Buffalo Bills game from the sidelines
• Meet a President
• Visit Amsterdam, Russia and China
• Make a six figure salary
• Live in either the desert or at the base of a mountain
• Ride a Harley
• Own a Corvette
• Meet my birth parents
• Swin with dolphins
• See myself on the big screen
• Sing in front of a stadium sized audience
• Own a bar
• Have a son
• See my kids have kids
• Make a best friend
• Find the one woman I'm supposed to be with and just be with each other, happily.

Maybe this list is tacky, and it's always evolving, but right now, this is where it stands.

James D. Griffin, feisty mayor and political icon, dies at 78

Jimmy Griffin's down-to-earth philosophy was matched by passion


Jimmy Griffin — feisty, independent and at times irascible — finally succumbed in a fight he could not win.
The former mayor, who fought his way through the Korean War, some nasty city politics and perhaps a couple of street brawls, died Sunday at Father Baker Manor in Orchard Park, about a month shy of his 79th birthday.
The 56th and longest-serving Buffalo mayor, James D. Griffin was as familiar a figure as the city has ever known.
“You don’t have to be a genius to be a mayor — or anything else,” he once said, describing himself as “honest and down-to-earth.”
“I like to think I have a sense of humor — and common sense.”

Griffin was elected to four terms as mayor and was given credit for a resurgence in downtown Buffalo and its waterfront, especially in the early years of his administration.
Buffalo’s Griffin era began Jan. 1, 1978.
“The city was $19 million in debt; the waterfront a wilderness; downtown deserted; neighborhoods were deteriorating and residents were leaving; and business and industry had no confidence in our city,” Griffin later recalled.
For 16 years, love him or not, Griffin gave all his efforts to Buffalo — eradicating the debt and seeing the Buffalo Hilton (now the Adam’s Mark), townhouses and office buildings, including a new headquarters for Western New York Public Broadcasting, spring up by the waterfront.
Downtown and the Theater District got the Hyatt Regency, an eight-screen General Cinema in the Market Arcade, TGIFriday’s and a Rotary Ice Rink — not to mention three bank office buildings at Fountain Plaza.
Shea’s Buffalo was restored. Hoyt Lake in Delaware Park was cleaned up. New parking ramps and walkways were built, as were the HSBC Bank Atrium, City Center and the Elm-Oak high-tech corridor. A new City Mission and Cornerstone Manor were built.
But the crowning glory was undoubtedly Pilot Field, now Dunn Tire Park.
Griffin not only rallied community leaders to bring professional baseball back to Buffalo in 1979, but he spearheaded construction of downtown’s baseball stadium, one of the finest in the nation.
At the Bisons’ season finale in 1993, the baseball club and its owners, the Rich family, presented Griffin a crystal buffalo in appreciation for his continuing support.
“This job is a great job,” Griffin said earlier that year — when he decided not to seek a fifth term after polls reported he would lose badly.
“We are able to help people. We help build homes, create jobs in the private sector, fill jobs, both permanent and seasonal, in city government, and also provide summer work for thousands of kids so they can earn money for school and clothes and have a few bucks for some fun times.”
A record in dispute

Griffin also took risks. He went after federal and state funding with a vengeance. He fought for Buffalo at every turn. But some critics say his mayoralty produced more failures than accomplishments.
Crime went up. The city’s population continued to decline. Several downtown department stores closed their doors.
Many accused Griffin of under-funding the city’s public schools — while the mayor’s own children attended Catholic schools. The Police Department was politicized, promotions often depending on whether the individuals were Griffin supporters.
Two thousand homes were built and many neighborhood business districts revitalized, but the East Side neighborhoods, with notable exceptions, were largely neglected. There were few minority employees in key city positions.
Taxes were raised an average of only 3.6 percent a year, and the city’s work force was slashed by more than 1,000 employees — leaving, many felt, too few workers to get the job done right.
And the Griffin administration was not without scandal.
Griffin’s parks commissioner, Robert Delano, was jailed after an FBI investigation of the Parks Department brought five convictions. The mayor’s brother Thomas was convicted of tax fraud and jailed in Florida.
David May was an assistant city registrar during the Griffin administration when as much as $746,000 in public funds disappeared.

Three years after Griffin left office, the federal Department of Housing and Urban Development asked the city to return a $400,000 block grant made, despite significant irregularities in processing, during the Griffin era to a developer for a project that was never completed.
“Griffin’s record is like a long shadow,” News columnist and former political reporter George Borrelli wrote in 1997. “Try as he may, he just can’t run away from it.”
Longtime Griffin supporter and close friend Ronald J. Anthony begged to differ:
“Mayor Griffin always ran on his record, and he won on his record. Victories in 1977, 1981, 1985 and 1989 proved that those who count the most, the voters, liked that record,” Anthony said. “In my eyes, and in the eyes of countless Western New Yorkers, there will always be only one mayor — Jim Griffin.”

Former Mayor James D. Griffin dies in Orchard Park nursing home

This was the headline in today's Buffalo News.

It really came as shock to me, and immediately brought tears to my eyes, as I didn't even know he was sick.

Jimmy Griffin was Buffalo Mayor from 1977 - 1994, one of the longest tenured. Shockingly, in a heavily Democratic city, he won on the Conservative ticket, but he was no stereotypical Conservative.

While the city sank economically and lost thousands in population, due to the decline of the industrial era, Jimmy Griffin never wavered.

As a lifelong resident of South Buffalo, he was often seen in his favorite local bar. He instrumented construction of the (now named) Adams Mark and Hyatt Hotels, downtown. He also, during the famous Blizzard of '85, advised people to stay home and drink a six-pack, earning the nickname 6 Pack Jimmy.

He also served over construction of the MetroRail, Buffalo's subway system, and construction of the (now named) 21,000 seat Dunn Tire Park, (which can be expanded to 40,000 seats over the third level mezanine) the Baseball Stadium downtown that the AAA Buffalo Bisons call home, and led the league in attendance for many years, drawing over 1 million people in it's first season!

But Jimmy Griffin was an enigmatic personality. A true "Buffalo" guy. Fiesty and proud. In 2005, he was elected to the Buffalo Common Council, and ran for Erie County Executive, unsuccessfully, 3 times, including this year. He also ran for President in 1996, but his real charisma was just his personality. He was tough, took no shit and stood by everything he said. He wasn't a typical politician, delivering the party line to the status quo. He talked straight from the heart.

I saw him once, in a Wilson Farms, a local convenience store chain, about 7 years ago in South Buffalo. I remember he had an ethereal "glow" that made him seem almost majestic looking, and here he was talking to the girl behind the counter about how he would talk to her boss about a problem she was having in the store.

I just can't believe he's gone. I didn't know him personally, but I'll miss him dearly.
A big Piece of Buffalo, NY is gone, but his memory will live on in each of us, that lived during his time with us. A memory of a proud, tough, fearless leader, who toiled endlessly to preserve Buffalo as not just a city in Western New York, but as an experience, as an emotion, a source of pride and inspiration, even with it's many imperfections, and as a place everyone who's ever lived there can always call home, and come home to.

Rest in Peace, Jimmy. You've earned it.

Unfairly Targeted

Ok. This is up for debate.
This is the series of events that created a complete change in almost every aspect of my life, courtesy of the Town of Tonawanda Police Department. (Tonawanda is a suburb of Buffalo, NY)

It started in 2002, when I was driving home from the SPCA with Daphne, the German Short Haired Pointer I had just adopted, and I had to cross through "The Town," as it's called.
So, I'm sitting at a stop light, waiting to make a left, and I see a cop coming down the road I'm going to turn on. The road I WAS on didn't go straight across, it jogged to the left.
So the light turns green, I make my left, and the lights go on, so I make the immediate right back onto my original street, and he pulls up behind me. He tells me I was doing 42 in a 30, in a school zone. Geez, I thought I was stopped, but in The Town, this is the game, and it's well known throughout the area that this is how it is, in The Town.

So I go to court, meet 12 other people, who all got the same ticket, from the same cop, in the same place, on the same day, take the offer for a Saturday in Driving School, have it reduced to the most expensive parking ticket ever, $112.00, and go on about my business.
Several moths later, back in The Town, I pull out of a parking lot, make a right and before I've gone one block, I'm pulled over. I'll call this guy, Cop #2, who tells me that in less than a block, in my Expedition, in the one place I use my cruise control on city streets, I was doing 52 in a 40.
So, I go to court and find out, I cannot go to school again, because you can only do that once, every 18 months, so, not able to afford a lawyer, and being stupidly naive, I plead guilty and pay the fine. Speeding Ticket #1.

Several months later, in another town, in the semi, pulling a full load, 45,000lbs, going into an S-curve, I get pulled over from a cop that was, ironically, sitting in his own driveway, and am told I was doing 47 in a 35.
Why is it always 12 miles over?
Again, because it's the same county, I stupidly pay the ticket. Ticket #2
Several months later, back in The Town, driving Bridget home at 2AM, under protest, btw, because of my fear of driving in The Town anyhow, cop #2 pulls me over again.
This time, I was doing 42 in a 30, in an S-curve, in my expedition, that even trying after the fact, I could not negotiate any faster than 28MPH.
So I argue my point with him, and he threatens me with jail, making me reconsider that arguing thing and I take the ticket.
We go to court, and I explain this entire thing to the prosecutor, who tells me, just go to school!!!

When I explained that it was still within 18 months of my last sacrificed Saturday, he says then just pay the fine or pay for a lawyer and a jury trial, neither of which I could afford.
Not realizing the implications, I just pay the fine. Ticket #3.
A month later, DMV sends me a letter telling me that my license is going to be revoked for 3 speeding tickets in 18 months.
I never knew that was a possibility.

Well, I hedged it and, owning my own semi, drove anyhow. I mean, I had a business to run.
Ironically, a drunk driver can get a special license allowing him to drive to and from work, but a truck driver, who depends on his license to eat, does not have that opportunity.

A month later, I get pulled into a scale in Missouri and they run my license, see it's revoked and shut me down.
I drove out of there after they closed, but the company I was leased to refused to load me, so in no time, I was forced to sell the truck back for what I owed on it.

Well, Bridget was pregnant and we needed to eat, so I got a job selling home improvements, knowing it was a lucrative way to be able to pay our bills, and of course, I got pulled over one day, on the way to a lead, and they towed my ride.
I went to court with a fist full of tickets, explained my situation to the prosecutor, who told me, GO TO SCHOOL!!!!! UGH! I begged this guy to help me get everything straightened out, and this was his response?

I got the car back, but I didn't have my license yet, because of a silly radar detector ticket , in a little tiny town in southern NY, that was holding it up.
But when you'd call there, you get an answering machine telling you to call back during court hours, on Saturday, between 2 and 4, and no one ever answered the phone then either.

Soon after that, Bridget moved to Peoria with our daughter and I made a few trips to get some our things down here. Mostly clothes.
One night, just getting back in Buffalo, I got pulled over, because I was ignorantly talking to her on the phone, by a NY State trooper.
I just forgot to put the damn hands free thing on.
Now I explained everything to this guy and he was cool, and let me go, but with a bunch of tickets that I never paid.

So here I am. No license, 3 years later, no car and bunch of tickets that I can't afford to pay.
When I lost the truck, I had no income for months, because sales isn't something you just go do. You actually have to learn some things, and I did and eventually did well, but was so buried in accrued bills that I never have been able to afford to pay my tickets.

Because of the lack of income, the landlord threw us out, less than 2 months behind on rent, with a 2 month old baby, put our things in the front yard the day we high tailed it to stay at my Mom's and didn't inform me of this until a week later, which by then was too late.

In essence, Tonawanda Police cost me everything I ever owned, my business, my house, my way of life and my living in my hometown.
Some of that sounds dramatic and I made the choice to do some of the things that I did, but none of this would have happened if it wasn't for the snowball effect of those trumped up tickets.

A Wonderful Life

Looking at all those pictures got me all reminiscent of the things I've done in the first half of my life. Of course, if medical science picks it up, this could be the first quarter.
Of course, I COULD help out with that by excersizing, quiting smoking and mostly, alleviating the damn stress in my life.

I really don't know how someone like ME got here.
I mean, I was a nobody as a kid. I wasn't popular at all.
I never had a girlfriend and I was pretty abused, but from then on, it's been pretty extraordinary.

I listed the vast array of occupations I've had, and that's pretty telling in itself. Whether it's an inability to get comfortable in one place for very long or the fact that I just get bored, once I reach a certain benchmark.

For instance, when I was a truck driver, once I had the perfect job, knowing the only place I could aspire to ascend to was to be an owner, I got dissillusioned with it.
And that's another bad thing, too, because when that happens, I'd make a rash and usually bad decision.
For instance, that particular job. It was perfect. I made great money. I was home every weekend. I drove the FINEST equipment on the road, and because I didn't feel challenged, I quit, went to a different company and never felt the same about a job.

Except the one I have now. Having been a confirmed computer addict since high school, I finally have a job that allows me to work with them, and being very creative, designing advertising pieces and the mediums they're published in lets me express that side of myself.

I've owned several businesses, like American Deck Builders, HipKat Promotions, and HipKat Enterprises, my trucking business.

I've climbed 800 foot smoke stacks. I helped move two lighthouse, both of which were featured on Megamovers, for International Chimney, I've been in every state in the US except Hawaii, North Dakota and Oregon.
I've been in 4 other countries, besides the U.S.

And I've had plenty of women. And the high school loser has not had a problem with the prettiest girls.

Still, it all, mixed together, has created a situation where I always miss something form the past.
I love my job, but I loved being on the road. My boss is great, but running your own business is better, and it's cozy and climate controlled in an office or the cab of a truck, but I miss using my hands, too.
Is there a job where I can do all of the above? I doubt it.
I'd be like the commercial: A construct-apfic-design-sales-driver.