On October 19th…

October 19, 2015

I was born on this date in 1962. Please indulge me as I’d like to take a look at October 19 through the years. Former heavyweight champion Evander Holyfield was born on the same exact day as me. Once at a press conference, I brought up this fact to him and even showed him my driver’s license to prove it. Holyfield laughed as did the other reporters at our table.

October 19, 1962 also saw the United States in the opening days of the Cuban Missile Crisis. That morning, President Kennedy met with Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara and the Joint Chiefs of Staff before leaving for a scheduled trip to Ohio and Illinois. They discussed various military actions and the possible consequences. Ironically this meeting took place two years to the day that The United States imposed a near-total trade embargo against Cuba. For more irony, in 1917, the same year Kennedy was born, Love Field in Dallas was opened on October 19.

Traveling back to the 18th Century, 1781 to be precise, Charles Cornwallis surrendered to George Washington and Jean-Baptiste Donatien de Vimeur, comte de Rochambeau at Yorktown Virginia on October 19, essentially ending the Revolutionary War.

In 2004, Curt Schilling and his bloody sock beat the Yankees in Game 6 of the American League Championship Series to even things up at three games apiece. Exactly one year to the day, I was sitting in Yankee Stadium watching the Yankees beat the Marlins in Game 2 of the World Series. What a difference a year makes!

In 1994, my friend Dennis and I went to see Pulp Fiction. I remember coming out of the theater in awe. I had never seen anything like that film before. It was funny, it was violent, it was gory, it was told in a non-linear format and it was immediately placed in my Top 10 favorite films of all-time list.

Aside from Mr. Holyfield, there are a few other celebrities whom share my birthday. These include artist Peter Max, Journalist Jack Anderson, actor John Lithgow and Robert Reed (The Brady Bunch) as well as wrestler turned actor, Tor Johnson (Plan 9 From Outer Space). Lithgow hails from the great city of Rochester, which is the same place my wife was born and raised. If I ever meet Lithgow, I will have two points of reference to start a conversation with him. In an ironic twist both Reed and Johnson also died on the same day, May 12!

Former First Daughter Amy Carter (1967), director producer, screenwriter and son of Ivan, Jason Reitman (1977), first round pick in the 1986 NBA Draft out of North Carolina, Brad Daugherty (1965), actor and writer Jon Favreau (1966) whom I once met at a Bruce Springsteen concert; and South Park co-creator Trey Parker (1969) all came into the world on this day. My former co-worker Lydia and a friend from the old neighborhood, Mary, also share my birthday. Mad Magazine writer and Facebook friend Dick DeBartolo also claims 10/19 as his birthday.

There are a few notable deaths on this date. During a trip to Ireland I learned that Writer Jonathan Swift died on October 19, 1745. Swift wrote one of my favorite pieces of satire, A Modest Proposal. Academy Award winner Actor Gig Young, whom has a part in one of my favorite movies, That Touch of Mink, shot and killed his wife then turned the gun on himself in 1987.

Needless to say 19 has always been my lucky number. I always tried to secure that uniform number when I played any organized sports. Some legendary number 19’s in the sports world are: Bryan Trottier of the New York Islanders, Willis Reed of the New York Knicks, the San Diego Padres Tony Gwynn and Johnny Unitas of the (then) Baltimore Colts and then the San Diego Chargers. All of them are Hall of Famers and none of them were born on my birthday. However, Jose Batista of the Toronto Blue Jays who sports number 19, does share my birthday. I’m guessing he took the number to honor my, er I mean his birthday. During his brief stay in Toronto, John Cullen (no relation) wore number 19 for the Maple Leafs. I would love to get that jersey as a gift!

On the night of October 18, 1977, Reggie Jackson hit three home runs securing his World Series MVP Award and giving the New York Yankees their first championship in 15 years. The next day the Daily News headline shouted: REGGIE REGGIE REGGIE! When I met Reggie I got him to sign a copy of the paper with the Inscription: To Tommy Happy Birthday Reggie Jackson. The date of the Newspaper? October 19, 1977.

As fate would have it, this year I get a special event on my birthday as well. George Lucas and the Walt Disney Company must know what a huge Star Wars fan that I am. They will show the third and final trailer for Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens tonight during Monday Night Football. Happy birthday to me!


I’m Not Dying for the Mets to Win the World Series

October 17, 2015

I do NOT hate the New York Mets. Like any red blooded, pinstripe wearing Yankee fan, my hatred in baseball is reserved for the Boston Red Sox.

I actually used to be a Mets fan. I still have an undying love for Tom Seaver. I have a Tom Seaver wall in my home office with pictures, magazine covers, baseball cards and figures. To this day, Seaver is the only player whom I trekked up to Cooperstown for an induction ceremony. I had great seats that day too! I was in the same row as Tom’s wife Nancy and their two daughters. Tom Terrific has a lovely family.

The Tom Seaver Wall

The Tom Seaver Wall in my office

The first baseball game I ever attended was a Mets game in 1973. Harry Parker was the starting pitcher and Willie Mays was in centerfield that Saturday afternoon in April. The Mets beat the Expos 5-0. Through the wonder of the internet you can view the box score right here: http://www.retrosheet.org/boxesetc/1973/B04210NYN1973.htm


So why did I switch my allegiance from the team in Queens to the one in the Bronx? One man and one man only: M. Donald Grant. When Mr. Grant traded Tom Seaver to the Reds in 1977 I was done with the Mets. That same night Mr. Grant also traded Dave Kingman to the San Diego Padres for Paul Siebert and Bobby Valentine. Yes THAT Bobby Valentine! After these two trades I came to the conclusion that the “M” in M. Donald Grant stood for “Moron.” OK That was a cheap shot, as momma always taught me not to speak ill of the dead. Moving on…

I really SHOULD hate the Mets. And if I were a superstitious man I would. In 1969, the Mets turned the baseball world on it’s ear. This team that had never finished better than last or next to last finished in first place in the newly created National League East Division Then they won the first ever National League Championship Series by beating the Atlanta Braves in three straight games. Then after dropping Game 1 of the World Series they swept the next four.

In 1986, after an exciting NLCS that saw the Mets beat the Astros in six games the Mets beat the Red Sox in seven games to win the World Series. Every Mets fan knows exactly where they were during game six, possibly the most exciting World Series Game of all time.

Here is why I should have a deep seeded hatred for the Mets. On September 30, 1969, my dad died. A mere 16 days later, the Mets won the World Series. On October 7, 1986 my mom died. Twenty days later the Mets won the World Series. Hence the title of this blog post. Thankfully I am not a superstitious man.

I know you are probably thinking I’m crazy and it’s just a weird coincidence. Well I am crazy and it is a weird coincidence! There really is no need for me to worry. I am not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. (I think I just heard God laughing!)

However, if the Mets make it past the Cubs; and if anything should happen to me between now and the end of the World Series, bet the house on the Mets. Just remember that I died for your team to succeed! There is what could possibly be my final gift to my friends whom are Met fans.

With that said, Lets Go Cubbies! I don’t want to die, just yet!



Trumped Up!

July 27, 2015


Allow me to get political for a moment.

Donald Trump is the type of person whom I am trying to decide whether he is absolutely nuts or if I actually like him. Admit it America you’re all waiting to see what he will do or say next. It’s OK, so am I. It’s about time a Presidential candidate appears on the scene who isn’t afraid to speak his mind. I’ll admit I was not happy with his disrespect of John McCain, but there are worse things he could have said.

It’s refreshing to see that Trump doesn’t need any campaign contributions. In a recent article his net worth was revealed to be around 8.7 billion dollars. So you won’t be getting any pesky phone calls from his staff asking for contributions.

The majority of Americans complain about “politics as usual.” There is nothing usual about Donald J. Trump. From his hair, to his net worth, to his television shows, to his name all over buildings in New York City. This guy is anything but a typical politician. In fact he is NOT a politician at all, he is a business man. That in itself makes the American political machine nervous. He doesn’t have to adhere to the political rule book.

Let him say what he wants. Let him insult minority groups and war heroes. Let him exercise his freedom of speech. The First Amendment is a beautiful thing as you’re not stupid enough to believe that you can say whatever it is you want to say. Donald Trump is not stupid. You don’t acquire 8.7 billion dollars by being stupid. He may be crazy but he’s not stupid.

From 1952 until 2004 with the exception of 1964, there has been a Nixon, Dole or Bush on the Republican ticket. Think about that. For over a half a century only four men have consistently appeared in one of the two top slots of the Republican ticket. Time for some new blood.

Now for arguments sake let’s say Jeb Bush receives the 2016 Republican nomination and Hilary Clinton is the Democratic choice for President. Welcome to the 2016 Presidential Election or the 1992 Presidential Election Part II (only the first names have changed). Are Jeb and Hillary REALLY the best choices America has to offer? This is like saying, “Hey America we want you to eat healthy but your only choices are McDonalds and Burger King.”

Why isn’t Joe Biden throwing his hat into the ring? Why wouldn’t a two term Vice President want to run for the top job? Where the hell is Al Gore? He’s an intelligent guy, and we haven’t heard much from him lately. On the Republican side, it seems every day a new candidate is announcing his or her run. At present there are 33 confirmed Republican candidates and two potentials. That’s more than a Major League Baseball roster.

Sure it’s early and anything can happen, but this is kind of fun. The Democrats have pretty much given Hillary the nomination and Trump is currently leading the vast GOP field. Personally I don’t think Trump is going to last but stranger things have happened. Remember in 1972, American knew about Watergate and as a nation was tired of the quagmire that was Vietnam. So what happens? Nixon gets reelected in a landslide. Nixon won every state with the exception of Massachusetts and the District of Columbia which went to George McGovern. To paraphrase the great Dennis Miller, “I didn’t even run that year and I almost tied McGovern.”

In 2000 and 2004 it was nice to finally see some close elections. The 2000 election has become infamous for too many reasons to list here. Supposedly, George W. Bush was an idiot (this is NOT my opinion but the consensus of the liberal media) yet he was elected to two terms. Truth be told he was an average student at Yale. Through his first three years at Yale, Bush’s grades averaged out to 77 on a 100-point scale. He only received one D during his college career, in an astronomy course his freshman year. His 2004 opponent, John Kerry, also went to Yale. In Kerry’s freshman year the future senator tallied four D’s. Bush’s cumulative average of 77 was a point higher than Kerry’s! I didn’t attend Yale and my GPA was 3.8. I beat them both!

The 2016 election is a little over 15 months away, which in politics is an eternity. Anything can happen. Hillary is set to testify in October before the House committee investigating the killing of four Americans in a 2012 terror attack in Benghazi, when she was Secretary of State. That should have some interesting results on her campaign as well as her credibility.

As for Trump, I can’t wait to see what he says next. Go Donald, Go! Enjoy it while it lasts, America.


Under the 59th Street Bridge

July 15, 2015

59thstreet I spent quite a few summer afternoons and evenings at a baseball field on the corner of 59th Street and York Avenue, under the bridge. At this time in the mid-seventies, the “baseball field” was actually a tennis court in the winter time which was converted into a ball park in the spring and summer. The field itself was horrible, it was this reddish/brown clay and bad hops were common place. I once saw a kid playing third base about to field a ball when at the last moment the ball took a nasty hop and hit him in the face breaking his glasses. Fortunately he had plastic lenses and no serious injury was done to his eyes. The lighting was also horrible as it was difficult to pick up the ball as it was being pitched in the night time. However my memories of 59th Street (that’s what we called it) are still all pretty positive. I was far from the best player on my team, as a matter of fact if where were 12 guys on my team I would have probably been ranked 13th. One year I didn’t get a single hit, my batting average was .000. I made Bob Uecker and Charlie Brown look like All-Stars.

However I still went down there when I was supposed to, played my position and gave it my best shot. In 1975, my first year on the OLGC Angels I was sitting on the bench just waiting my turn to bat when a player on my team fouled off a ball, which caught me right above the left eye. I wasn’t paying attention to the batter and having a conversation with one of my teammates. I saw stars, my heart raced, I started screaming that I couldn’t see and that I was blind. I was scared shitless! Fortunately one of my teammates’ dads, Big Ray Zimmerman got me in a cab and took me to the emergency room at Lenox Hill Hospital. It’s funny that 40 years later I still remember the conversation. Ray said that he would take me to New York Hospital since it was closer. I told him that if we didn’t go to Lenox Hill Hospital my mother would kill him. He promptly told the cab driver Lenox Hill Hospital and make it quick.

After being examined, re-examined, examined even more and having lights shone in both my eyes, I was sent home. I was also given something to calm me down as well as an ice pack for my eye. Fortunately there was no damage to the eye itself as the stitching of the ball caught me on the eyebrow. I had not eaten anything since about noon and it was now close to 8 pm. When I got home my mother gasped at the grotesqueness that was her son’s face. When I went into the bathroom to look in the mirror my reaction was one of disgust. I looked terrible, I had not eaten anything in hours and I did the only thing I could do. I threw up into the sink. Looking back, I can say this was not one of my better days. Plus I never even got the chance to bat, as my accident happened in the first inning.

I missed practice that week as the swelling around my eye went down little by little. I definitely had the strangest black eye in history. Usually the blackness is under the eye. I had that, in addition to my eye lid being a mix of purple and yellow. I was not a pretty sight. I don’t think I played the following week, and needless to say I was a little gun shy after getting hit.

The following year I was on the OLGC Green Machine in the Babe Ruth League. This was the season of my stellar .000 average I either walked or struck out almost every time I went to bat. However I think my on-base percentage was about .500. One night my mom came down to watch me play. It was bad enough that I sucked at this game of baseball, now I had to have my mom witness it firsthand. I struck out in my first at bat. Then a funny thing happened in my second plate appearance. I drilled a pitch the opposite way. I swear this ball had double written all over it. What happened? The first baseman reaches out and makes one of those happy birthday catches and I am 0-for-2.

Later that year in the summer league, a coach from one of the other teams, Big Pete, calls time out while I am at bat. He calls me over and tells me, “I have been watching you a long time and I have noticed that you always step back when the ball is being pitched.” Being the good kid that I was and showing the respect that I was taught I didn’t have the heart or the balls to tell him, “Yeah well if you got hit in the eye with a batted hard ball you’d be a little gun shy and take a step back too.” He then told me to step into the pitch as I am swinging and just see what happens. With that little piece of advice in my pocket. I went to work. That night I hit two balls out of the park (both foul, but still…) and I also hit the bridge for the first time in my life (which counted as a no pitch but it was still a nice feeling that I got the ball up that high).

One of my best friends growing up was Paul Atkinson and he was an all-star down at 59th Street. This kid, who was at the time skinny as a string bean could hit pitch, run throw and pretty much walk on water when he was at 59th Street. And walking on water was sometimes a necessity on that field after a rainstorm. Paul and I have known each other since we first moved into the projects in 1965. That is a fifty year friendship. Usually when Paul would pitch he would often get the better of me. I admit it he intimidated me. But there is always that one out of ten times that a bad hitter will have a little luck against a good pitcher.

Paul, who threw right handed, just stared to play with curveball. So there I am batting against him and the first pitch is coming right towards me so I get out of the way. At the last minute it breaks in over the plate, strike one. Second pitch same result, ball coming at me, I back up, ball breaks, strike two. The old saying goes, fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me, fool me a third time, I’m gonna kill you (I made that last part up). I call time out step out of the box and think to myself. He’s not crazy enough to throw a third curve is he? Baseball is a guessing game and batters are guessing all the time. My guess was that he would throw another curve so I would stand there and take it. If it doesn’t break and hits me I get to first base. If I wait on it and time it just right maybe I can hit it. Paul sets himself and lets the ball go, it’s coming at me I wait and wait and wait and finally swing — BOOM! I got it and sent a rope into left field for a base hit. This was much better and a lot less painful than getting hit by the pitch. While I was standing on first Paul just glared at me from the mound, sort of saying you weren’t supposed to do that.

As we walked home that night I told him, that he had got to learn how to mix up your pitches. “If you would have thrown me a fastball on the second pitch you would have had me totally off balance,” I said. “Then you could have set me up with the curve or a change of pace.”

For a while our coach at OLGC, Dennis Moulton, would have an Old Timers game at 59th Street, usually the last Saturday in July. This went on for a few years in the mid to late 80’s. Then as time marched on and players started getting married and moving away from the city, these games became extinct.

I met a lot of good guys and good ballplayers down at 59th Street, so I was sad to learn that baseball is no longer played there and that it is now tennis courts year round. Another part of my childhood is gone. 59thstreet2


R.I.P. Snake

July 11, 2015

Stabler in the Sea of Hands Game. And yes he completed that pass!

Ken Stabler is the main reason I have been an Oakland Raider fan since 1974.

In the early to mid 70’s, long before ESPN had round the clock coverage of the NFL, I had to depend on blurbs in the Monday papers to read about Stabler and the Raiders. There was also a once weekly show, This Week in Pro Football that would broadcast highlights of the previous week’s games on Saturday night. I would watch this program religiously, patiently waiting to see a few clips of my team and how they often destroyed their previous weeks’ opponent. Hosted by Tom Brookshier and Pat Summerall, it was all I had to actually see the silver and black.

At the time, Raider games were rarely broadcast in New York. There was no such thing as NFL Sunday Ticket and DirecTV. When they were featured on Monday Night Football it was like a holiday in my house. It was a rare opportunity for me to see Snake and the boys dissect an opponent. And given their record on Monday nights in the 70’s it was usually a great celebration too!

Unfortunately I never got to see Stabler play live, as I wouldn’t attend my first Raider game until 1983. In later years when I worked in sports I never had the opportunity to cross paths with him either. However a friend and colleague of mine worked with him in the early 90’s.

I asked this friend if he could get Stabler to sign the Sports Illustrated cover that I owned. It was a great shot of the Snake dropping back to pass against the Vikings in the Super Bowl. My friend was a little leery at first saying he didn’t like asking the talent for autographs, but that he would feel Stabler out, and see what he could do. He knew I was a huge Raider fan.

The next week my Autographed copy of Sports Illustrated arrived in the mail with a note from my friend saying that Stabler was one of the nicest guys he ever met! Stabled even personalized it to me with the inscription: To Tommy the Raiders #1 Fan, Ken Stabler. I immediately framed it and hung it on my wall.

Of all the stories I have read about Stabler since his passing yesterday, the consensus is that he was great with the fans and he would always take time out to sign an autograph. Even though I never got to meet him I have prove of his kindness.

Stabler was one of a kind. He was featured on the cover of the 1977 Pro Football issue of Sports Illustrated. Photos included him shooting pool with a cigarette in his mouth and another with a pretty blonde sitting in his lap and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

R.I.P. Snake. Heaven just got a really good and fun-loving quarterback.


Just a fun loving southern boy!


The Routine

June 10, 2015

This unemployment thing sucks. However, I have mastered the first rule of being unemployed and that is: GET INTO A ROUTINE! I have been down this road before so I know the drill. However during my previous tenures of unemployment, I didn’t own a house or have a family to take care of so the dynamic has obviously changed.

The two positive aspects of being unemployed are that I get to spend more time with my son and that I now have time to go to the gym. I must admit that I have been very dedicated and disciplined; I have been going to the gym four to five days a week since I lost my job.

I was speaking to a friend of mine whom was laid off in December and she said that the thing she missed the most is having a routine. I told her that she has to make her own routine and stick to it. Of course part of that routine has to be the job hunt, but let’s be realistic: no one can spend eight to ten hours every day looking for a job. A person would drive themselves insane if that were the case.

Instead of getting up at 5:30 as I was when I was employed, I now get up at a more reasonable 6:30 to 7:00. Not having to deal with an alarm clock and a train schedule is a bonus. I get my son ready for school by picking out his clothes, getting his breakfast ready making him brush his teeth and packing up his lunch. I them drive him to his before school daycare program.

After dropping him off, I head directly across the road to my gym. I’m still doing a workout my friend Scott built for me some 25 years ago when we first decided to join a gym in the city by our office. First up is getting the heart pumping with 20 to 30 minutes of running on the treadmill. The iPod is really important for this, as I have to have music when I am running. It is amazing what I have re-discovered among the 6,000 plus songs in my library:

I had almost forgotten how many great tunes Stevie Wonder has recorded. The first three songs on Exile are great to run to as are Led Zeppelin’s Immigrant Song and Out on the Tiles. The Grateful Dead’s Alabama Getaway and McCartney’s Junior’s Farm can get the blood flowing as well. Which reminds me, I have to make some more playlists, to get many of the song I mentioned above all in one place.

While listening to my music I am also watching the monitors of the dozen or so TV’s to see if anything catches my attention. When I see that the LIRR has delays, especially on my former line, I just smile and think to myself, “That used to get me aggravated.”

After working up a good sweat it’s off to the machines and free weights. As per the “Scott plan” it’s Bi’s Tri’s and Thigh’s (that’s biceps, triceps and legs) one day then shoulders chest and back the next day. So far everything has been working well. I have dropped 15 pounds since I started doing this in early April. I have two goals that I will not reveal here. When I achieve goal number one I will be very happy. If — no make that WHEN — I get to goal number two, I will be ecstatic. Then I will reveal what I have set out to do.

What I have noticed at the gym is that a LOT of people have tattoos and that there are people in all shapes and sizes trying to accomplish something. The majority of people there are quiet and keep to themselves. They are there to work out. There is one exception, the guy who walks around with his gallon of water and talks to all the women. Unfortunately for him, none of the women seem to want to talk to him. In the words of the Festrunk Brothers, “He is not successful in cruising for foxes.”

After the gym it’s back home for a shower, job hunting and phone calls. If the wife has left a Honey Do list I try and take care of that as well. Some days I just enjoy being in the house or in the back yard. Other days I need to get out and do some light retail therapy to take my mind off of everything. Recently I purchased a new pair of Nike running shoes and some tee-shirts. It’s the little things that make me happy. I figure I matters well look good while getting fit.

We have just purchased a new shed and a pool. In preparation for the new shed, I had to destroy the old one. I called a demolition company who quoted me a price somewhere in the neighborhood of $1,300 to demolish it and cart it away. Screw that! I tore that thing down myself using a saw, sledgehammer and a crowbar. It was therapeutic. With every swing of the sledgehammer I just thought of the nitwits that laid me off. I worked out a lot of aggression and that thing came down in about four hours. It did cost me $500 to have it carted away, but that still saved me $800.


My Handiwork. I found that I really enjoy destroying things.

For the month of June my son’s karate class is offering dad’s the chance to work out for free in honor of Father’s Day. So far I have taken three kickboxing classes and I have sweat off a ton of weight. I bought a pair of boxing gloves and I found out that I really like hitting the bag. I have also found a new found respect for boxers. Yes, it may look easy but it’s not. There is a LOT of training that goes into becoming a professional boxer. Fear not as that is not my goal; at 52 I think I am a little old to start training for the heavyweight championship of the world.

What I have learned is that boxing is just as much mental as it is physical. I have to remember that when I am punching with one hand the other hand has to be up protecting your face. Breathing is also very important. You have to get the oxygen into your lungs and through your blood stream.

The pay off for all of this hard work I have been doing with be well worth it as I will be one lean mean fighting machine for my next employer.



April 8, 2015


I was fired last week. There is no other way to put it. Yes laid off sounds less harsh, but I believe in being honest. My fellow employees and I were informed that our company had merged with another organization on Wednesday afternoon. On Thursday afternoon it was deemed by the new regime that about half the staff was no longer needed. “Thank you for coming in, pack up your stuff, take this envelope and the guy in the black shirt and the yellow teeth will escort you to the door.”

I have run through a gamut of emotions from anger, devastated, fear, relief, optimistic, upset, depressed and excited about what the future will bring. I have spoken to friends and former colleagues and have begun the process of job hunting, which in 2015 is a lot different from 1993 when I first had to really look for a job.

Fortunately, I still have my freelance gig at CBS Sports. However, that ended with the Elite Eight and it won’t begin again until the NFL season resumes in September. Another positive is that my wife has good gig and she is well compensated. In addition, her busy time is around the corner. That will help as will the severance package that I received and the money I have been squiring away as a “just in case” this day came.

Right now everything just kind of sucks, there is me being honest again. I spent yesterday with my son whom I took to the movies and lunch. That is one of the positives of all this, I get to spend more quality time with my boy. However, I am an able-bodied intelligent person with good skill sets who knows he can be an asset to a company. On top of all that I WANT to work.

To my friends and former colleagues reading this, I will be reaching out to the people in my field, so please be kind. As one friend told me, “If you got fired 30 years ago it meant you were a screw up,” she said. “Nowadays everyone gets fired. I was fired three times last year.” NOTE: my friend has her own PR & Communications firm in the Midwest.

I have had my little pity party, I self-medicated with Guinness and Jameson’s during the evening of the Final Four with the help of my friend Dennis. So now it is time to get back on the horse and see what is out. Right now all I really care about is getting a job to take care of my family.

There are two people out there who I would be remiss without mentioning. Ironically I have never met either of them in person, but they have been influential to me. First there is Sophia in Chicago who has more balls then some men I know. Thank you for all of your good advice. Your iron fist with a velvet glove was much appreciated. For Cindy in Canada, your notes and phone calls have meant a lot to me. Jeff is a lucky man to have a wife as loving, kind and caring as you.

Yes you must be careful who you “meet’ on the Internet, however these two ladies are the best and I am happy and proud to call them friends. Someday I hope to meet them both. With that said, it’s time to get job hunting. I would like to put the last five years behind me and look forward to what I hope will be a bright and rosy future.


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