I have officially boarded the Trump Train. Toot-toot! I’ve reread my Facebook status updates and blog posts since Donald Trump rode down the golden escalator over two years ago, and I’m ashamed. I regret all my rants that target President Donald J. Trump, and each and every person who vehemently support him. I’m here to … Continue reading The Great Comeuppance
-orginally published in Crooked Lullabies, 3/24/13.-to my son, Uri. We are the good guys. We are the merrymakers dancing among the fires of the apocalypse. We are the heretics screeching from the bell tower above the smoke plumes. We are the carousers laughing while the pharaoh chokes. I’d spent nine months imagining my reaction the … Continue reading We Are The Good Guys
-originally published in Crooked Lullabies, 8/7/16. -to my wife, Kait. She is young. She is an artist. She has boundless dreams and steady hands. The clay is fresh. The clay is moist. The clay is shapeless. She places the clay on the wheel and presses the pedal that makes it spin. The clay is squishy … Continue reading The Sculptor
-originally published on Crooked Lullabies, 5/12/13. Nothing drives a baseball fan to the morning drink quite like a 1 o’clock start time. Nothing drives a Pirates fan to sheer lunacy quite like the local baseball club. Combine a 1 o’clock start time for a Pirates game in which a fan protest is due after the … Continue reading I SUPPORT THE THIRD INNING WALKOUT
-originally published on Crooked Lullabies, 10/12/14. am a Pink Floyd completest. If the band officially releases any licensed product—music product, I mean—I feel compelled to hastily purchase said product. Frankly, this compulsion is a curse. Why? Besides spending nearly every dime earned as a teenage stock clerk at Kmart on imported bootlegged concerts and rare … Continue reading Pink Gloyd And The Endless River…Of Scarves, Marbles And Fake Backstage Passes.
-originally published on Crooked Lullabies, 8/12/14. The field correspondent from ABC’s Good Morning America asked 10-year-old me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I saw my reflection in the lens of the hulking television camera bearing down from above; I had a burly moustache and spit chaw, while clad in mid-80’s Phillies home pinstripes. … Continue reading Raised On Boring Workaholic Athletes Who Happen To Be Super White
-originally published on Crooked Lullabies, 6/9/14. Last Saturday evening Kait and I took a stroll through Calvary Cemetery in Greenfield. Along the bend near the main entrance, beside the newly built three-story mega-mausoleum, I noticed a large weathered tombstone with the last name BUTERA embossed across the front. (all names have been changed to protect … Continue reading Don’t Give Me Reason To Ghost Ball Punch Your New Husband
originally published in Crooked Lullabies, 3/5/13. “And it is a good morning indeed: for I have a job… I take over as the sports editor of the Jersey Shore Herald-a morning paper serving Jersey Shore, Lock Haven, and Williamsport. I shall leave for Williamsport next weekend.” -Hunter S. Thompson, in a letter to Lt. Col. Frank Campbell … Continue reading The Proud Highway…To Jersey Shore, PA?
-originally published in Crooked Lulabies, 12/8/16. During the workweek, I park about a mile from the Allegheny County Court of Common Pleas—where I'm employed—to avoid the downtown Pittsburgh parking fees. I walk to work. Along the way I pass Mercy Behavioral Health—psychiatric facility, a Salvation Army—drug and alcohol rehab, the Allegheny County Jail, the Renewal … Continue reading Something In The River
-originally published in Crooked Lullabies, 4/26/17. Throughout much of April and May, our backyard was home to a garter snake. My son Uri considered him an outdoor pet. "Let's go see the snake," he'd say, excitedly. Docile the snake slithered among the grass nearly every time we visited the backyard. (The name Docile is earned). Eventually, my … Continue reading I’m Thinking About Adopting A Terminally Sick Hamster For My Son