I was in the cafeteria at work this morning getting my breakfast sandwich when someone inquired if I was in mourning. You see, I’ve been dressing more and more in all black attire. Just for the record, I do deviate from black at least 2 days out of the week.

I started to wonder myself why I’m wearing black more often than not, as of late. I’ve come to a couple of conclusions. I do wear black as a symbol of mourning.

I wear black for the men and women who have made the ultimate sacrifice in the name of freedom. I wear it for those who fight for the rights we so easily take for granted day after day. For the men and women who ask nothing from us other than the ability to enjoy the same freedoms as we do. These men and women are the true American hero’s as far as I’m concerned and deserve much more than they are given.

I wear black for the homeless vets, the under-privileged and those forgotten by society. For the men, women and children existing in the shadows, wondering from minute to minute if it might be their last. I mourn because they reach out for a helping hand that isn’t there.

I wear black for those who struggle day in and day out to put food on the table, not able to get the much needed assistance because they don’t qualify. I mourn for the failing system that allows the able-bodied to leech off the system designed to help the truly needy.

I wear black for the abused children, women and elderly, beaten not only physically, but mentally by cowards who do it to make themselves feel superior or gratified in morally twisted ways.

I wear black for all the victims of crime.

I wear black for loved ones who have gone before me.

I wear black because I like it.

I wear black.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

This week, I ended up with 4 consecutive Monday’s in a row. It’s been bad enough to give me writers block. Like any other writer, or least I would assume like any other, it’s very agitating to me. In some cases over the years, I systematically compounded the problem by over thinking and trying too hard, resulting in bad moods and lashing out at others, without anything to show for it.

The feeling of 4 consecutive Monday’s in a row ironically started on Ground Hog’s Day. I felt as if each day was the same as the previous, but significantly more aggravating. How apropos that my week of Monday’s would start on Ground Hog’s Day. It eventually made me laugh as I thought about Bill Murray in the wonderfully imaginative movie.

I believe I’ve snapped the streak today as I’m enjoying a typical Friday. This time though, it’s atypical in the sense that I seem to be enjoying it just a little bit more. It’s always nice to appreciate something more. My only regret is that I don’t appreciate the smaller things as much as I should. The things I generally take for granted, such as a beautiful day, can easily be taken from me in a heartbeat

The human condition generally marches us down the path of cynicism allowing our psyche to rejoice when something goes our way. This way of thinking also sets in motion complacency when it comes to the little things we expect and take for granted. A good example might be how we breathe without hesitation, as a natural bodily function. We all know that breathing is essential to life, but we expect it to happen, without delay or impediment, as we might expect the Sun to come up everyday without any intervention. Take away the natural ability to breathe on our own and we immediately panic and fight to the bitter end to achieve our objective to live.

Stop and smell the flowers and take notice of how, without much effort, you inhale a just a little deeper in an effort to tantalize your senses with a sweet scent. Now imagine having to concentrate and exert energy to accomplish such a function every waking and sleeping moment of your existence. A scary thought to say the least.

Again, I assume, not much of this makes sense to most of you reading this, but that’s ok with me. I’m simply enjoying the ability to write something to be enjoyed by others, without much forethought and physical exertion on my part.

Today I take notice of the little things and marvel at the true gifts all around me.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

This segment of “I’ll give you five minutes…” brought to you by Molson Canadian Beer, Buffalo Sabres Hockey and hard working American people across the USA.

As I sat in front of my TV watching the Sabres vs. Leafs on my DVR, I thought of all the hard working American people spread across our great nation. We are the backs that great things are built upon. We strive to do our very best, in every situation and want nothing but the best outcome for all.

We come from the rolling plains, the mountains and hills, valleys and deserts, from sea to shining sea, in droves striving to make our lives and the lives of others around us, day in and arduous day out, the American Dream. We work very hard every day and many times much, much more than eight hour shifts.

We are the people!

While I watch all the maleficent executives preying on our good nature, I begin to wonder when we might take up and lock arms together as citizens of this great country unified as one and rally against this type of malicious disregard for the very people who make it all possible.

It makes me sick that these top executives take, take and take more, pocketing billions collectively and then, they grotesquely laugh in the face of those who question their ethics. Is there no one that can stop the insanity?

People are losing their jobs by the thousands, day after day, losing benefits that keep them afloat and in some cases, keep them and family members alive.

Will it ever stop?

Will someone stand up and fight for the hard working, ever deserving Americans?

As always, the questions are much easier than the answers!

Do you believe? Will things change?

I for one, doubt that any real penalty bestowed upon the elitist executives, be it great or small, will ever, rope in the ugly green monster we know as Corporate America.

Thank you for tuning into another segment of my over thinking and sometimes irrational thoughts.

I’ve just given you much more than five minutes…

Saturday morning I sat consuming my freshly made caffeine elixir while staring at the boob tube. The morning news was over and the cartoons were starting. Much to my chagrin, the they were lackluster at best.

What happened to the good old days of Warner Brothers Looney Tunes? I remember watching Wile E Coyote chasing the Road Runner and knowing that poor Wile would never catch him no matter how many ACME products he purchased and used in his unsuccessful attempts. I often wondered what he would do if he did catch the Road Runner? Would he eat him? Would they become friends? Would the Super Genius move onto more challenging prey? I guess we’ll never know.

Maybe I just don’t know the schedule. Why would they hide or not air these classic cartoons?

I’ve decided that I must, for the simple reason of perpetuating the greatest cartoons ever, begin building a DVD collection of Looney Tunes. I’m not just talking about the icons of Looney Tunes such as Daffy Duck, Bugs Bunny, Porky Pig, Wile E Coyote, Sylvester and Tweety. I’m talking about Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam, Marvin Martian, Elmer Fudd and the Docutunes, you know, the cartoon documentaries.

I miss so many of these… I need them… and I shall have them one way or another.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

On a ride to the Tuscarora Indian Reservation to purchase my tax free cigarettes, my wife and I listened to some country music while our daughter happily slumbered in the back seat. As we forged forward with our plans for the day, visiting Nana and Pops, stopping to pick up a few things from the store and then home for the Super Bowl with friends, I began to day dream.

My thoughts always seem to come back to one reoccurring theme in my head, country living. I day dream about a fairly larger home, nothing extravagant, but enough room to not be on top of each other as we can be at times now. I dream of a large parcel of land, enough for riding my quad, snowmobiling in the winter season, hunting, cutting my own firewood and a room enough for a nice out building housing a wood shop and room for the Harley, the quad and whatever other toys we may have.

A large deck would be on the back of the house accessible via the French doors leading from the kitchen. The deck would be overlooking the large back yard and the tree line off in the distance. Summers evenings would be spent on the deck listening to the crickets and watching the fireflies dance all across the yard. On occasion we would have a fire out in the yard and roast marshmallows, hotdogs and make pie iron pizzas. In the winter, I would use my tractor with the front loader and build my daughter a big snow hill for sledding. I would also clear a nice spot in the backyard for an ice skating rink to be enjoyed by friends and family.

I have many more visions in my daydreams and I’ll keep them all mine for now.

Never give up on your dreams.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

On my ride in this morning, I had some extra time to think. Picture that, extra time to think on the commute to the city, who’da thunk it. The snow came down at a pretty good clip and my thoughts began to turn to national affairs, government and our endless, spiraling plunge towards a second depression in 100 years.

The first thing to pop into my head was the “Blagojevich Situation”. I wondered if this guy is so far gone in his delusional perception of his own innocence that he believes it to be truth. Then I thought for a moment, he’s not your average bear. He maintains his strong grip on the “I did nothing wrong” platform for one or two simple reasons, at least in my opinion. First, when you tell a lie enough times, it becomes truth to you. He has said it out loud enough times to make it sound like truth. Or, he is maintaining his lie for the simple fact that he does not want to incriminate himself if there is a criminal trial. I for one, hope there is a criminal trial and they introduce the tapes into evidence and send him to jail. He can join the group of politicians that got caught. Problem is, he joins a long list. The fact there’s a list is disheartening. The only caveat is he’ll probably write a book while in prison, get out, publish his book and get rich off it.

I then wondered how many politicians are breaking the law and getting away with it. As the saying goes, “When you see one cockroach, there’s sure to be thousands more” scares me. Have we as a society, become so complacent with how our government is run that we tend to look the other way? Do we say to ourselves, “It’s not hurting me too badly, so I guess I can live it”?

These are elected officials, or better yet we allow the positions to go to the highest bidder. This is also heart breaking when a person with a ton of money and the ability to lie so well, takes office, or a position of power and then rams it down the throats of the very people who helped them get there. Where is the democracy?

There is no room in a capitalistic republic for democracy. What has happened since our founding fathers forged the foundation for a true democracy? 

Let me share some of my thoughts on the matter. We (society) have sanctioned lies and deceit for far too long. We’ve allowed it to manifest into what it is today. This didn’t happen overnight. This has been a calculated attack from the inside and I could almost call it homeland terrorism, but it’s a bit of a stretch at this point, but not far off.

Our own governmental administration is a cancerous tumor that is eating away at our very ideals. If we don’t eradicate this type of behavior soon, we’ll end up speaking another language. We listen to them tell us what’s good for us, when in reality, the “what’s good for us” is truly what’s good for big business and the amount of kick backs that end up in the coffers of those elected officials.

Our system has eroded so badly, that it is only recognized on the surface as a free democratic society. The declaration of independence and our constitution has become a front, a dummy corporation of sorts. It has been twisted so badly that it may be teetering on the edge of no return and disrepair. God help us.

Not all people in positions of power, or in our government are bad, but if you wrap it all up in one package, it still stinks. How’d that saying go… you can put lipstick on a pig, but… it’s still a pig! PIG = People In Government.

I’ll get off my soap box now… I’m sure none of this makes sense, but at the very least, I know what I mean.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

The alarm rang at 6 something A.M. and to my wife’s chagrin, I hit the snooze 3 or 4 times. She would say more, but I have the snooze set for 9 minutes and I know I was out of bed before 6:30 A.M. and starting the fire to warm up the house.

I’m thankful for the snow plow drivers who work endless, thankless hours preparing the streets for safe travel. However, I’m completely and utterly dismayed by this morning actions by the plow driver. I heard him fly, and I mean fly, down the street at least 3 times. While I understand the need for urgency in getting from one street to the next in a timely fashion is critical on a weekday, I don’t understand the need for speed in which they seem to travel when pushing snow off the street.

I know we have to keep our sidewalks clear of snow for pedestrians, and I diligently make sure that is the case for my house, and 3 of my neighbors. When the plow careens down the street at break neck speeds, throwing the snow distances only admired by other plow drivers it begins to create a problem for homeowners such as myself.

This morning, not only did the plow fill all the of the sidewalks I cleared twice in a 12 hour period, he whacked the snow banks so hard and at such speed, causing a huge chunk ice the size of an extinction sized meteor to land smack dab in the middle of my driveway apron.

I was more than livid I can tell you that. I immediately had thoughts of taking a sick day from work to follow this plow driver until his shift had ended and discover his place of residence. Once I obtained that crucial piece of evidence, I would rent a dump truck, load it with boulder sized chunks of ice from a nearby supermarket parking lot and dump it directly in this person’s driveway.

As I pulled out the snow blower one more time and began the tedious process of clearing the sidewalks and chipping away at the chunks at the end of my driveway, I was consumed by these thoughts. Money was no object at this point and you could see the fire circling me as I laughed wildly at my plan as if I was in the Devil’s den hatching the perfect nightmare.

I finished my task and as luck would have the brutally cold temperatures outside cooled my temper back to manageable levels.

I started my car and resumed my regularly scheduled morning.

I’ve just given you five minutes…

I left the house this morning after cleaning off my car. The frozen precipitation that had collected overnight in the form of snow on my vehicle has quickly become an unwelcome nuisance. Waking up and looking out the window on days like this simply puts me in a bleak mood.

It dawned on me this morning that snow really serves no purpose in my life after Christmas. I’d like to suggest that Mother Nature take into consideration the people in this region and give us a break from this slippery, white abomination.

Yes, I get the whole economic impact from the snow, but does it really balance out? I know people love to ski, and ski resorts in our southern region depend on snow to operate and in turn the local people and businesses depend on that to make a living. Let’s take into account the tax dollars that are now being spent to provide this economic growth. The streets have to be plowed and salted, the municipal sidewalks must be maintained and you must have people working to perform those tasks. All of the local government building must be heated in the form of electric, gas or oil.

Correct me if I’m wrong here, but isn’t this a vicious cycle? You live in the southern region and work at a local ski resort. You get up in the morning to eke out your meager existence (this in no way negatively reflects the lifestyles being lived in these regions; this is simply a ‘for instance’ scenario). You go outside and clear your driveway and clean off your car. You begin to head down the road to work. What are you working for? You are working to pay your bills. You are paying a good percentage to keep these needed services, such as plowing, heat and so on, in order to get to work to make money to pay those bills. Does this make any sense?

Why are we (most of us), the saps that live from pay check to pay check, busting our humps for this vicious cycle? To keep the economy going? How is it benefiting us? I’m very confused by this. Is this how a free, democratic society thrives? I say not. I say, this is how a capitalistic republic survives.

I know I get on my screwy, eccentric rants now and then, and I know this is one of them. I beg for your indulgence on the subject matter and then I apologize for bringing it up. I just don’t get it… Cheers!

I’ve just given you five minutes…

I mentioned yesterday I would write about a once in a lifetime experience I had. I’m referring to the time I had the distinct pleasure of running a late model race car around Lancaster Speedway for 30 hot laps. I was involved in a program that allowed amateurs a chance to take a race car around the track.

I sat on the side lines for most of the morning as I was scheduled to go last. I watched people take their turns following one of the late models in the lead setting the pace. The thing with the pace car was that the person driving it was a professional driver and he could pull away at any moment if someone got too close. I watched this go on for hours and I thought to myself ” this is a joke, there’s no way I want to follow this guy around at 10 mph“.

When it was finally my turn, I got into my fire suit, fire resistant boots, racing gloves, a nomex hood and I donned a racing helmet. My adrenaline began to get the better of me as my hands started to shake. I was so excited I could barely contain it. I climbed into the Firebird and began assembling the five point harness. I pushed the clutch in and pressed the start button and fired up the hot rod.

As I received final instructions from the crew chief, I asked him if I had to go as slow as the previous drivers. He told me to do the best I could based on the instruction I’d received earlier and to be careful. If I put it in the wall and wadded it up, I would be fronting the $500 deposit. I checked my straps once more and slowly pulled out onto the track.

I gave the rumbling monster some gas and I could immediately feel the power behind this car, she wanted to go fast and turn left. I mention the famous racing phrase because the steering and suspension was setup to go left, in fact, the car wanted to go left so badly, I had a bit of a hard time keeping it straight in the beginning.

As I took a couple of slow laps and began to become acclimated with how the car handled, I wanted to stomp on the gas. As I rounded turn four, I gave the thumbs up to the crew chief and the flagman waved the white flag signaling ” one lap to go“. I reached down and checked my straps once more and rounded turn one going into turn two.

This was it, my heart was racing, my breathing rapid and I’m sure my knuckles were white beneath the specialized gloves I was wearing. I gained a bit more speed on the back straight away and then slowed a bit going into turn three.

As I came out of turn four into the front straight away, the flagman dropped the green and it was on. I gave the gas some gentle pressure, the car responded in kind with a roar and we were off. I did one entire lap holding my breath and tried to concentrate on what I was doing. After a few more laps, I had to remind myself to breathe and I finally began to relax.

I later found out for the first few laps I was running a 22 second lap time. That was enough to get me lapped several times in a regular heat race. As I became more comfortable I began gaining on the pace car and he in turn, pulled away, but I pressed on. I was determined to catch him. After a few more laps, we were later told we where running in the 19.5 second range, and that was good enough to keep pace with the big boys at Lancaster.

At one point I was close enough to the pace car that I felt I could get around it, so I pressed a little harder on the gas. I was quickly brought back to reality when the rear end of the car began to go away from me, heading into a spin out and probably right into the wall. A slight screeching sound from the tires and I was off the gas. I straightened out the car and ran a bunch more hot laps at a more conservative pace. I finally pulled into the pits after my 30 or so laps were tallied.

As I climbed out of the car, the driver of the pace car came over to me and offered me his hand. As we shook hands, he thanked me for waking him up on the track. he mentioned he was becoming bored with all the slow laps. The owner of the race car also came over and asked me if I was sure I had never raced a car before. I answered as I did in the beginning of the program, ” no but I’ve always had the itch“. It was one hell of a ‘once in a lifetime experience’. This is one I’ll never forget.

I’ve just given you a little bit more than five minutes…

I’m starting to get excited about NASCAR’s Daytona 500 race coming up on February 15th. The excitement actually starts on February 7th for me. On the 7th, the Bud Shootout, which to me, is one of the most exciting races of the season. The format is a 70 lap shootout. The race is broken down into 2 segments, the first is a 20 lap run, then a 10 minute break where teams can make changes to their cars. The second segment is a 50 lap shootout to the end, and this in my opinion, is by far, some of the best racing you’ll ever see at Daytona International Speedway. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing this race in person and it’s just as exciting on TV. I highly suggest you find the time to watch this intense auto race. The race airs on Fox at 8 p.m. on the 7th of February.

I could go into the nuts and bolts of Daytona Speed Weeks, but I really don’t want to dive into the specificity of NASCAR. I will tell you this, all of the races leading to the 500 on the 15th are qualifying races.

This used to be quite a big deal when my father was alive. We would get chips and dip, lots of beer and I would provide homemade chicken wings to be cooked and consumed during the long race. My father and I would talk daily about the stories coming out of Daytona leading up to and during Speed Weeks. As he was forced into retirement at a young age, my father had the advantage of Speed TV. He’d watch it all day long and share some of the highlights over the phone with me when I would get home from work. On special occasions, when the story was so hot my father couldn’t contain himself, he’d call me at the office. The old man loved to yank my chain. He’d call me with some juicy tidbit and then embellish it in such a way it would make his favorite team look better, or seem to have the advantage. I truly think he took to favoring another team just to be at odds with me during the race season. It was his way of spicing things up, I miss it dearly.

I was watching NASCAR races with my father at a very tender age, on the rare occasion the Wide World of Sports would air a race. I remember watching Dale Earnhardt bump, rub and knock people out of his way. This was before Dale’s popularity boomed. My father and I agreed this was the guy to watch and we both became fans of Dale. Years later my father became a fan of Jeff Gordon and I still believe to this day, despite Jeff’s obvious talents, my father picked him because I didn’t like him. Both my father and I were deeply saddened by the sudden and premature departure of this great racer, which incidentally, happened during the final laps of the 2001 Daytona 500.

When I was 3-4 years old, my father began taking me to Lancaster Speedway (the venue has had many names over the years, but will remain Lancaster Speedway for me), I was instantly bitten by the local racing bug. I spent the next 34 years attending races, some years religiously and some when my father could afford to take me. Years later, when I was able to support my own racing habit, it was my home away from home during the race season and some years even in the off season. I had even started building my own car one year, but quickly ran out of money. To this day, I’d still love to give racing a shot. I think tomorrow’s installment will contain a story about the time I had the honor of racing a late model car around Lancaster Speedway for 30 hot laps.

I’ve just given you five minutes…