Past Lives

You know, in my past life, I must have been a real asshole, on Hitler level and this time around, is the punishment, because short of going to jail, nothing good has been happening, and everything bad that can happen, is. I've been a shining example of Murphy's Law; Anything that can happen will, and in my case, that's true if it's bad.

In June, I told my landlord that the next few months were going to be rough and that rent was going to be late, most likely over that period, and have to be paid in payments. He accepted that, we shook on it, and I have kept to that, having kept it to where I'm only half a month behind.
In mid-August, I laid out my plan to be completely caught up by the end of September, which he again agreed to, and now, all of a sudden he dumps this unreadable spreadsheet in my lap accusing me of owing him more than $1600.00! A far cry from the $890,00, which I can prove via receipts and cashed checks.
So I email this proof to him, along with a reminder of our agreements and include another agreement the property manager he employed at the time made with us on giving us a half month's break on the rent, because this place was filthy, dirty and bug infested when we moved in which we cleaned at our own expense.
In essence, with that credit applied, I owe him $25.oo, plus the month of September, which would actually be covered by our security deposit. I've asked him to use that deposit if he needs the money and I'll replace it, which would make us current.

Here was his response:

Greg,

I am following through with the eviction. It is already in the hands of my attorney Troy Roberts. I am finished with you as a tenant, Even if you come up with the amount owed on the balance sheet we will ask the Judge for a Forcible Entry and Detainer order and we will get the order. You are out. If you are out of the house prior to being served you can save yourself the expenses of court cost, service and my attorney's fees. Otherwise those expenses will be added to the judgment against you. Perhaps you should spend a few hundred dollars with your own attorney and have him of her explain the situation. In 20 years and a lot of evictions I have never lost in court. The judge will give you 7 to 14 days to get out, If your still there after the order date we will have a deputy stand by while Roger and his crew set your stuff on the curb.

Nothing like plying yourself on a guy's sense of morality, or humanity. I mean, I have babies, for crying out loud, and I've been pouring money into this guys pocket on a weekly basis for the last few months. Is he in his rights to dothis? Well, sure, I owe him money, but c'mon. It's not like I'm months behind. Or habitually late. I hit a rough spot and let him know from the beginning. He made agrements with me and now he's backing out. My fault for not getting them in writing, but I'm old school. I believe a person's word is binding. My mistake.

Making it worse, I lost my damn job, suddenly last week and am starting a new one this week, which is a financial blip, at the worst possible time.

So who was it, Hitler?? Atilla the Hun?? Was I guy that crucified Christ? Jack the Ripper??

Whoever it was, I must have been a real son of a bitch, in another time who fucked people over often, because right now, I'm totally fucked.

To who or whatever it is that's running this big show "I've had ENOUGH!"

Just a side note, I had to break down and employ a touch of censorship to stem the tide of scum bag losers that insist on making anonymous comments, so now you have to be registered to comment. I apologize, but certain assholes force you to make changes.

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!

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.