of an 11 day work week.....

I got a call Friday from my old department to help on the Ultimate Tailgate Party on Saturday afternoon. I, at least pretending to be a class guy, reported and stood around and talked cable, ran a raffle for a Bills Helmet and basically stood around for 6 hours prior to the Housewarming. My earlier duty left me pooped and the party looked great. It was as always great to see everybody in the flesh for however briefly.I was glad to meet (e:chicoschica) and (e:chico) as well as seeing what (e:twisted) actually looks like behind the frames. Hope nobody took my quick departure as anti-social. I had to be back at the stadium today to do my duty with the Bills. I was at Spot for breakfast by 8 and in the lot helping my day job folks set their tent by 9. After watching (e:leetee) and (e:thecarey) torture poor unsuspecting citrus by drowning it in a sea of vodka, I had to laugh this morning, because one of the "business" party I stand guard over had two paid bartenders doing the exact same thing. Our peeps may have missed their calling.

Today's duty had me patrolling a section of concrete that has my knees calling me names. My ankles are egging my knees on in that regard. It was a long day. No Clinton sightings, but I did get a tip from one attendee which felt strange because I've never done much to warrant those. One of my other guests wanted to know if I needed a drink. I mentioned that ice water would be great and she placed a glass of what I thought was ice water out for me. The water was anchored in the glass by a few fingers of vodka. Memo to self: peppermint lifesavers are a good thing to have at your disposal.

I must be getting old, good thing I don't look it........SHADDUP!!

I love dogs. It's the owners that sometimes have a knack for pissing me off, as the pets are sometimes more intelligent than their two legged owners. Not a day goes by that I don't see some moron holding a leash that isn't attached to the dog. What is the fuckin point? an alibi for when you do get the ticket? Don't even get me started on the idiots who insist on dragging the poor animals to things like the Elmwood Arts Fest. None of these chuckleheads ever stop to fucking look to see how miserable their four legged family members are.

I write this because my 12 year old was leaving church yesterday on Elmwood. She was catching up to some friends at the former Manhattan Bagel. Coming from the other direction was a sizeable dog and its brainless owner. The dog got caught up in the excitement on the street and knocked my daughter to the ground while said owner was oblivious to the dog's behavior. First words out of the jackass's mouth was "He never does that at home." Like my kid secretly replaced the dog's coffee with Folgers. My lovely child is pretty tough and rather stoical. The moron asked if she was okay and immediately left. No effort to be sincere in conern. No effort to help her get to her into the sandwich shop. My lovely daughter now has a softball size bruise on her thigh and bloodied knee because a idiot was too caught up in the strip versus village debate to pay attention to the behavior of her animal. There is a reason why they tell kids that dogs and other pets are big responsibilities. I wish the adults would have to digest that speech too.

Having found out about this, 8 hours after the fact made me even more frustrated. It pisses me off that somebody is so self-absorbed in being seen on the Village/Strip/Ave that they genuine sink into buffoonery. Walk you dog, but have a fuckin clue.

But having worked the Bills game yesterday, I saw my share of buffoons. More drunken yahoos then you care to shake a stick at. When you work the game, there is a shuttle that takes employees from the far lot around the stadium to where we enter. The path takes the long way around. As the bus pulled around the practice field, there were already two guys so out of it, I doubted they were going to make it in. Once at my post, every third person had a stagger to them, or so it seemed. What a difference a month makes. I busted somebody trying to break into my suites. You'd think a kid would try that, but the moron was almost my age. Gave me great pleasure to run him out. The suite owners sent out a steady supply of drinks in gratitude. It's an interesting people watching fest when the gates open and up to half time, then I'm prone to getting full for it. I couldn't believe the amount of folks who were there to literally make a day out of it. I have to be there by 10 for a 1:00 game and I got to Abbot Road by 9, it still took 45 minutes to climb to the employee lot. Got a high five from the mascot from Takeo Spikes and the Bills mascot for tips.

There is a shuttle to go back, but I never bother with it. After walking a few miles in a small space, the walk back feels good. Walking from the employee gate, through the camper lot, I was stopped to take pictures for two different groups ("Everybody say: Jets Blow!"), a woman I'd never seen before starting running toward me to exchange high fives. While she was charging, I was quickly running through my mental rolodex ("Did I know her? Should I be frightned? Is she empty handed?) Since the answers were no, no and yes. I exchanged greetings and moved on. The Bills Employee tag is fairly well known as I made the turn one tailgator gave the long day look and offered a burger with the trimmings. Dude could cook too. I exchanged pleasantries with he and his party, newly fortified, completed the journey to my car.

Today, my ankles are telling my knees lies about the effects of standing around for six hours, but taking the day off from the world big cable is soothing to my morale. Went for a job interview that I won't take, but it was good practice. I did discover, you walk in Spot with a suit on everybody takes you seriously. They opened a register just for me. I must wear a suit well.

Happy Monday, ya'all

Okay, so Saturday night wasn't exciting, but I have a new found sense of accomplishment! Good night and good luck

I know, I know, another one. Well, dear reader, deal. Lord knows I've had to. I did a little mental cataloging. The latest agrese error was forgetting my holiday pay. I've joined the chat at times from the glamor of the drive through window a few times. As of Friday, I have to record activities in four different ledger because apparently the four requesters can't seem to share.

I think I did address the trouble with getting benefits put through. The answer from HR (the true palace of sin) came two weeks into TW employ. "he should be able to go online and take care of it." When the fuck was anybody going to say anything?"

The timeclock system is java script which almost every computer has trouble running. Neither I or my boss knew it had to be programmed to record time off. I put in for a day off and made sure it knows I ain't working Monday - as a measure of poetic justice I got an interview with company called Five Point Marketing. I don't know much about them, but I think it would be worth going just to keep my interview b.s. skills sharp.

It was a rough week. Got the my schedule is too full from the woman I was attempting to see. Sigh. Alone again, naturally.........

Ah, well, a day in the semi fresh air tomorrow at the Bills game. Of my 3 employers at the moment, they've been the most interesting to work for late, having the decency of supplying food and drink each time I report.

Seeya at the housewarmin.....

The sons of bitches didn't pay me for Labor Day. I'm registering for a civil service exam and interviewing for another gig.



Beautiful sweet beer...mmmm, beer.

With a nod toward (e:Jenks) and her photos, and at (e:leetee) 's request, here you go, a little piece of that time before most of you were born.



That's me circa late 1966. Careful what you wish for. Cute kid, not sure what happened.

Took a stroll with the youngins to a largely unspoiled spot in the middle of spoiled yesterday. Went to 3 sisters island in the falls. We drove up and parked in the northern Goat Island parking lot where since it is after Labor Day, there was no College freshman to college my eight dollar parking fee. When you get out of the car there is a path right there that takes you along the river's edge. What I like about three sisters is that the parks people connected the islands for foot traffic and stopped. No souvenir stands, just unspoiled evolution. Doesn't mean you can't see the spoilage, just that you have a little room


















One of them spiritually refreshing days, we walked down to the gorge's edge. That's my guys running the viewfinders. The walk back was good. I felt centered again and my legs were abuzz with just the right amount of exercise that I wouldn't make a noise each time I stood up today.

Nice day.

I know not everybody is a Keith Olbermann fan, but I like the way the guy writes and he delivered the following on his show on this year's 9/11.


This hole in the ground

Half a lifetime ago, I worked in this now-empty space. And for 40 days after the attacks, I worked here again, trying to make sense of what happened, and was yet to happen, as a reporter.

All the time, I knew that the very air I breathed contained the remains of thousands of people, including four of my friends, two in the planes and -- as I discovered from those "missing posters" seared still into my soul -- two more in the Towers.

And I knew too, that this was the pyre for hundreds of New York policemen and firemen, of whom my family can claim half a dozen or more, as our ancestors.

I belabor this to emphasize that, for me this was, and is, and always shall be, personal.

And anyone who claims that I and others like me are "soft,"or have "forgotten" the lessons of what happened here is at best a grasping, opportunistic, dilettante and at worst, an idiot whether he is a commentator, or a Vice President, or a President.

However, of all the things those of us who were here five years ago could have forecast -- of all the nightmares that unfolded before our eyes, and the others that unfolded only in our minds -- none of us could have predicted this.

Five years later this space is still empty.

Five years later there is no memorial to the dead.

Five years later there is no building rising to show with proud defiance that we would not have our America wrung from us, by cowards and criminals.

Five years later this country's wound is still open.

Five years later this country's mass grave is still unmarked.

Five years later this is still just a background for a photo-op.

It is beyond shameful.

At the dedication of the Gettysburg Memorial -- barely four months after the last soldier staggered from another Pennsylvania field -- Mr. Lincoln said, "we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract."

Lincoln used those words to immortalize their sacrifice.

Today our leaders could use those same words to rationalize their reprehensible inaction. "We cannot dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground." So we won't.

Instead they bicker and buck pass. They thwart private efforts, and jostle to claim credit for initiatives that go nowhere. They spend the money on irrelevant wars, and elaborate self-congratulations, and buying off columnists to write how good a job they're doing instead of doing any job at all.

Five years later, Mr. Bush, we are still fighting the terrorists on these streets. And look carefully, sir, on these 16 empty acres. The terrorists are clearly, still winning.

And, in a crime against every victim here and every patriotic sentiment you mouthed but did not enact, you have done nothing about it.

And there is something worse still than this vast gaping hole in this city, and in the fabric of our nation. There is its symbolism of the promise unfulfilled, the urgent oath, reduced to lazy execution.

The only positive on 9/11 and the days and weeks that so slowly and painfully followed it was the unanimous humanity, here, and throughout the country. The government, the President in particular, was given every possible measure of support.

Those who did not belong to his party -- tabled that.

Those who doubted the mechanics of his election -- ignored that.

Those who wondered of his qualifications -- forgot that.

History teaches us that nearly unanimous support of a government cannot be taken away from that government by its critics. It can only be squandered by those who use it not to heal a nation's wounds, but to take political advantage.

Terrorists did not come and steal our newly-regained sense of being American first, and political, fiftieth. Nor did the Democrats. Nor did the media. Nor did the people.

The President -- and those around him -- did that.

They promised bi-partisanship, and then showed that to them, "bi-partisanship" meant that their party would rule and the rest would have to follow, or be branded, with ever-escalating hysteria, as morally or intellectually confused, as appeasers, as those who, in the Vice President's words yesterday, "validate the strategy of the terrorists."

They promised protection, and then showed that to them "protection" meant going to war against a despot whose hand they had once shaken, a despot who we now learn from our own Senate Intelligence Committee, hated al-Qaida as much as we did.

The polite phrase for how so many of us were duped into supporting a war, on the false premise that it had 'something to do' with 9/11 is "lying by implication."

The impolite phrase is "impeachable offense."

Not once in now five years has this President ever offered to assume responsibility for the failures that led to this empty space, and to this, the current, curdled, version of our beloved country.

Still, there is a last snapping flame from a final candle of respect and fairness: even his most virulent critics have never suggested he alone bears the full brunt of the blame for 9/11.

Half the time, in fact, this President has been so gently treated, that he has seemed not even to be the man most responsible for anything in his own administration.

Yet what is happening this very night?

A mini-series, created, influenced -- possibly financed by -- the most radical and cold of domestic political Machiavellis, continues to be televised into our homes.

The documented truths of the last fifteen years are replaced by bald-faced lies; the talking points of the current regime parroted; the whole sorry story blurred, by spin, to make the party out of office seem vacillating and impotent, and the party in office, seem like the only option.

How dare you, Mr. President, after taking cynical advantage of the unanimity and love, and transmuting it into fraudulent war and needless death, after monstrously transforming it into fear and suspicion and turning that fear into the campaign slogan of three elections? How dare you -- or those around you -- ever "spin" 9/11?

Just as the terrorists have succeeded -- are still succeeding -- as long as there is no memorial and no construction here at Ground Zero.

So, too, have they succeeded, and are still succeeding as long as this government uses 9/11 as a wedge to pit Americans against Americans.

This is an odd point to cite a television program, especially one from March of 1960. But as Disney's continuing sell-out of the truth (and this country) suggests, even television programs can be powerful things.

And long ago, a series called "The Twilight Zone" broadcast a riveting episode entitled "The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street."

In brief: a meteor sparks rumors of an invasion by extra-terrestrials disguised as humans. The electricity goes out. A neighbor pleads for calm. Suddenly his car -- and only his car -- starts. Someone suggests he must be the alien. Then another man's lights go on. As charges and suspicion and panic overtake the street, guns are inevitably produced. An "alien" is shot -- but he turns out to be just another neighbor, returning from going for help. The camera pulls back to a near-by hill, where two extra-terrestrials are seen manipulating a small device that can jam electricity. The veteran tells his novice that there's no need to actually attack, that you just turn off a few of the human machines and then, "they pick the most dangerous enemy they can find, and it's themselves."

And then, in perhaps his finest piece of writing, Rod Serling sums it up with words of remarkable prescience, given where we find ourselves tonight: "The tools of conquest do not necessarily come with bombs and explosions and fallout. There are weapons that are simply thoughts, attitudes, prejudices, to be found only in the minds of men.

"For the record, prejudices can kill and suspicion can destroy, and a thoughtless, frightened search for a scapegoat has a fallout all its own -- for the children, and the children yet unborn."

When those who dissent are told time and time again -- as we will be, if not tonight by the President, then tomorrow by his portable public chorus -- that he is preserving our freedom, but that if we use any of it, we are somehow un-American...When we are scolded, that if we merely question, we have "forgotten the lessons of 9/11"... look into this empty space behind me and the bi-partisanship upon which this administration also did not build, and tell me:

Who has left this hole in the ground?

We have not forgotten, Mr. President.

You have.

May this country forgive you.

Very well said

I'm a big Sabres fan and for the unitiated the team colors were blue and gold for roughly the first 26 years of their existence. Quinn made the right noises about "returning to tradition" etc. The colors were only part of what made it special. He has the team wearing their original unis for 20 games of the upcoming season. Larry's newly ordered design looks like the team is the screaming toupees. This was taken at center ice yesterday.



Ladies and Gentlemen, the Buffalo Annoyed Goats!