Ok, who do we blame?

Over the past few weeks we have been witness to atrocities against mankind that have us shaking our heads in wonderment. Citizens dying at the hands of law enforcement, police officers dying at the hands of citizens and people of all races, religions and genders being slaughtered by insane human beings who believe their terrorists acts will somehow change the world. How can we have come to this? There must be someone to blame. But who, who is really to blame for all of this.

One would believe that by using reasonable deduction it would not be very hard to conclude who exactly is the force behind all of this horror going on in our lives and who truly deserves the blame.

Let's start with the people we can't blame:

1. Don't blame me, I didn't vote for Obama. OK, we have just eliminated almost 50 million people who have uttered that phrase at least once over the last eight years.
2. Don't blame me, I didn't vote for Bush. Another 50 million people who believe they deserve absolution.

3. Don't blame me, I'm believe in gun control
4. Don't blame me, I'm opposed to gun control
5. Don't blame me, I support Black Lives Matter
6. Don't blame me, I don't believe black lives matter any more than any other life
7. Don't blame me, if Hillary wins, I'm moving to Canada
8. Don't blame me, if Trump wins, I'm moving to Canada
9. Don't blame me, I didn't tell them to be gay
10. Don't blame me, I don't care if they are gay
11. Don't blame me, I didn't tell them to come to this county
12. Don't blame me, I think we should have open borders and allow anyone to come in to our country
13. Don't blame me, I work for a living
14. Don't blame me, I believe people in need should get help from the government

The list can go on forever. The excuses will never end. That's why we will never actually be able to blame anyone for what is happening in society today. So if we can't actually blame a “someone” for this is there a “something” that can be blamed.

Can technology actually be blamed for enticing civil unrest? Did Diamond Reynolds realize what she was doing while she streamed video of her boyfriend being shot by a policeman in Minnesota? Did having security camera all over Dallas help in fostering the belief that policeman are innocent targets? Do racist rants and liberal propaganda on social media actually change any of our beliefs? No, I don't think technology can be the blame only because these things were invented by the people in numbers one through fourteen and if they can't be blamed, how can their inventions take the fall?

Can we put the blame on the evolution (for those who believe in that sort of thing) of society itself for what is going on, or is this just the culmination of Intelligent Design (for those who believe in that sort of thing) that will lead us to complete chaos?

I believe the answer to blame is staring us in the face. It's an item that each and every one of us uses everyday. Something so simple that we don't even realize it. What we need to blame are the mirrors we use to look at ourselves each day, because when we look in that mirror and say “how in the world is this going on” and then go about our day like nothing is happening we can protect ourselves by hiding behind the reflection left in the mirror. 

All of us are appalled at what has happened over the last few weeks. We talk about it at work, at home and over a beer, but for most of us, myself included, that's where it stops. One of these days, and I hope it is soon I will be able to look into the mirror and know that I actually tried to help stop some of the challenges that are facing our family's, our friends, our neighbors and the people who make it their jobs to protect us.

We are all responsible for what happens to each and everyone of us, maybe it's time we start taking some of the blame.

Ban the Canadians!

Over the last year we have heard time and time again from the presumptive nominee of the Republican party that we must build a wall and ban all Mexicans because they are drug dealers and rapists. We have to ban and close our borders to the muslims because they are all terrorists. Holy crap, we have to ban the internet because it's being used to radicalize innocent minds. I have no idea how "Le Grande Orange" (apologies to Rusty Staub) can be taken seriously when he has missed the boat on the single biggest threat to our country since the Bay City Rollers.

We must ban the Canadians! Yes the Canadians. While we worry about people young and old crossing our southern borders in the quest for a better life, those scoundrels from the north are busy planning the complete take over of our country. Their plan is ingenious and they have begun to assimilate into our society without you knowing it.

Tell me something, when was the last time you were in a line at the grocery store, at the ball park or even better your local gun store stocking up for Armageddon and knew you were standing next to a Canadian? You can't can you? There's a reason for that, they look just like us! That's just how clever those sneaky Canadians are.

This goes against all logic of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer! Here, the man who wants to make America great again is going to ban and remove all of the people you can clearly look at and see that they are bad people, because let's face it, just looking at them is the best way to decide whether or not someone is bad, but yet he doesn't mention anything about the people who look just like us. His utter indifference (or is it?) to this threat will have huge ramifications if something isn't done, and let me tell you, it will not be pretty, and by not pretty I mean....

FREE HEALTHCARE! Yes once enough Canadians have slithered their way across our border they will begin putting this ridiculous plan into place. What the hell? People getting free healthcare, it's just madness. That would mean more healthy Muslims and Mexicans, and god knows we can't have that. Well no, I forgot, the Mexicans will be behind the great wall so that's not a worry and somehow we are going to be able to stop all of the Muslims at Kennedy Airport, soooooooo that means free healthcare for all of us! Wait a minute, that last statement sounded very Canadian, come on man, hold on, get a grip you can't let them do this to you!

They have already infiltrated our national pastime with a team from Toronto called the Blue Jays. The Blue Jays....get it, bbllluuueee (they've claimed one of our colors, how long before red and white follow), they are trying desperately to woo Buffalo's beloved Bills to cross the border, well o.k., take the Bills, just leave the wings. The 122^nd most popular sport in the world is hockey and we have more teams in America than they do in Canada, and it's their national pastime! What next, NASCAR? Oh god please not NASCAR!

Did you know that The North American Swedish Fish factory, the company that makes your favorite gill-bearing gummies is located in Ontario? Uh huh, you can see where I'm going with this, right? How do we know what they are actually putting in those gummies? I can swear that the last time I had some I broke into a fine and unsolicited acapella version of “Oh Canada”.

You have no idea how pissed off the Canadians are about Molson. They have been trying to push that stuff down our throats for years and here we are embracing Dos Equis (made in Mexico) and the most interesting man in the world. Now I know he isn't really Mexican but would he be able to come into the country even though he played one on T.V.?

Look, I'm not saying all Canadians are shifty-eyed scoundrels from the north, and some of my very best friends are Canadian but, you know, I wouldn't want my daughter marrying one. Think of the kids.

One hour after quitting Facebook...

1. After one hour of quitting Facebook color begins to return to your face, your eyes stop watering every 15 minutes and you are shocked to see that your walls really need to be painted.
2. After one day of quitting Facebook a random porn site membership increases by one. (Yeah like you’ve never looked).
3. After one week of quitting Facebook food tastes better, the air smells cleaner and your skin starts to clear up. (See number two).
4. After two weeks of quitting Facebook you realize that your computer has a whole bunch of really neato programs you’ve never used before. There's a little something called Candy Crush that all the kids are talking about, Itunes really sounds like fun, Ibooks is another, can you imagine books right on a computer! Damn!
5. After three weeks of quitting Facebook you understand now how useful the index finger truly is. It’s not just for swiping anymore!
6. After one month of quitting Facebook you become part of the solution, you're out there, you’re spending money, you’re investing in the economy albeit Russia’s when five random porn sites memberships increase by one. Bol’shoye spasibo my little Dorogaya.
7. After two months of quitting Facebook you realize that you are running out of “Tasty” new heart attack inducing recipes. Exactly how much cheese is there in the world and can I really fit them all into one 30 minute slow cooker recipe?
8. After four months of quitting Facebook get your fat ass back to the gym. A direct result of number seven.
9. After six months of quitting Facebook you finally get over the embarrassment of not recognizing friend’s voices when you actually talk to them. It's just so hard to know if they "liked" my call or not. (insert emojji quizzical face here)
10. After eight months of quitting Facebook you find out that David Bowie died. David Bowie died? DAVID BOWIE DIED??? I wonder why that wasn’t covered on my local news. You Bastards!
11. After ten months of quitting Facebook you give up watching your cat because after strapping a GoPro to her head for a week you realize that she doesn’t do any of that cute stuff that all of the Facebook cats in the world do and now you have to take her to the vet because her neck is all crooked.
12. After twelve months of quitting Facebook you are notified that your membership to BigBuxomAmericanMomsWhoStripforSaudiBusinessmenWhilePlayingTwister.com is expiring.

$19.95 well spent my friends, welllllll spent!

Facebook, It's Not You...It's Me!!!

Michael: Oh Facebook, we knew this time would come. I had warned you early on that relationships like this don't last. Sure we had some good times, shared some memories, got involved in each others families and thought that this was it, a relationship that would last a millennium.

Facebook: 

Michael: I'm sorry to say this Facebook, and please just hear me out. I know this is going to be upsetting to you and I know how you can get when you are upset, but really, seriously, it's not you....It's me!
Facebook:


Michael: When we first met I was taken by your popularity, everyone wanted to be your friend, and boom, all I had to do was ask and there you were the head cheerleader wanting to hang out with me, and given my past history with relationships (see Manson Married, Me Single) I was hooked from the start.  How wonderful it was in the early years, the trips we took, the late night check-ins just to make sure I was OK, even the occasional message reminding that my mom's birthday was coming up made you special.
Facebook:

Michael: I used to look forward to coming home after a long day at work and turning you on. Yeah, you always said I knew just the right buttons to press. No matter what time of day or night you never rebuffed my wanting to spend some time with you. What more could I have ever asked for.

Your concern for the well being of my family and friends went beyond what I could have ever expected in a relationship like this. I was so taken by how great it was when I introduced you to them, it was like you knew them as well as I did.
Facebook:

Michael: But something seems to have changed, something I've noticed over the last few months. Believe me, I have tried hard to look the other way, put these odd feelings aside and just continue on with our relationship, but alas my dear Facebook the overwhelming feelings of disappointment have finally taken me over. I must do the unthinkable, Facebook we have to breakup.

Facebook:

Michael: Now there's no reason to get nasty, just hear me out. As you became increasingly popular over the last few years, there's been a change. The filters you once had that helped you distinguish between right and wrong have seemed to become blurred and like all of us, as we grow our thoughts and opinions change, and you have every right to change yours and express them however you choose. That is why Facebook it's not you, it's me.

Facebook: 

Michael: Our relationship has allowed me to see and hear things that I no longer am comfortable with. What used to be fun and amusing has now turned into sad and upsetting. Too many times of late have I had to push you aside because of the things you show me. 

Facebook:

Michael: And that's OK Facebook, you have a right to show and say whatever you choose. I know you've told me many times to just block or hide what I don't like seeing. I can't do that Facebook, it would be a lie and I won't do that to my Facebook friends. I became friends with them in life long before you came along because they were important to me. To block or hide what they say or show is not fair to them, I would never take that right away from them. So that is why we must go our separate ways. 

Facebook:

Michael: You have to understand Facebook. I honestly believe that I can keep in touch with all of those people who are important to me and maintain the relationships I had before you came into my life, and if I don't shame on me. Friendships should not and can not be defined by what you relay us, they need to be established with intelligent conversations and visits where you can look into each other in the eyes while discussing the ways of the world. Too many times what you have shown us can be misconstrued and friendships ruined without a word ever being spoken. I would like to say that I will miss the photos, videos, birthday wishes and snippets of life that my friends share with me. But my mission is to keep those things alive without your help. 

Facebook:

Michael: Thank you for understanding Facebook, I knew you would. Hey, but we can still be friends, right?
Facebook: 




Michael:





Note: For those family and friends who would like to comment on this please do so at the bottom of the blog in the comment section. I am going to try and keep the blog going and through google. If you would like to know when it is updated just let me know at michael.grattini@gmail.com, If not and I'm a man of my word, you'll probably hear from me anyway.

LETS GO METS!!!!!!

Let's Go Mets! Lets go Mets! Oh how I have longed to shout those words with such glee and jubilation! Yes, lifelong fans of the New York Metropolitans like myself have had to put up with the jabs and taunts of Yankee fans for years. Well now its our turn! Lets Go Mets! My god I can't get enough of it.

I can remember as a young boy the heartbreak and misery these lowly band of misfits would bring me year after year. I hid under my bed for two days when I learned that they had traded Nolan Ryan for Jim Fregosi and I cried until I could cry no more when I saw that the franchise, Tom “Terrific” Seaver had been traded away for Pat Zachry, Doug Flynn, Steve Henderson and Dan Norman. But those historic mistakes did not sway my allegiance to the almighty blue and orange.

We stood proud when Pete Rose throttled Bud Harrelson in the 1973 National League Championship Series but mourned our loss in the World Series to Charlie Finley's upstart Oakland Athletics. How many of us remember standing and cheering for Oakland's second baseman Mike Andrews after Charley Finley tried to fire him during the series for making two errors in one inning.

Then there was 1987 when we Met fans bellowed aloud as we watched footage of our young franchise savior walk sullenly into the Smithers Rehabilitation Center. It mattered not, the Mets were my team and there was no getting away from it. The memories of sitting around the lunch table at school and talking about the great players they had brought to the team warm my heart everyday. Don Hahn, George the Stork Theodore, Bob Aspormonte, Tim Foli and, well I could just go on forever.

Lean years followed through the 80's and 90's never ever seeming to be able to catch those darn Atlanta Braves. Year after year we would watch as they would win the division and move on to October baseball as we scoured the L.L. Bean catalog looking for what we would be wearing that winter, but then came a magical year. The year we were to meet our cross town arch rival in the Subway Series. Yes, we were in for the fight of our lives against those stinking Yankees, well as much of a fight as you could put up in 5 games.

We suffered through the indignity of that hopped up, roid ragged Roger Clemmens as he hurled a broken bat at our sainted Mike Piazza, who coincidentally ended that World Series run with a fly ball to center while facing Mariano Rivera.

Our sadness continued through 2007 when with a seven game lead on September 12^th we lost 12 of the next 17 games in one of the worst collapses in baseball history. But we prevailed and in 2008, well, we failed again missing the playoffs and being eliminated on the last game of the season for the second consecutive season.

But now, here are  in 2015 and we are one win away from going back to the Series. Met fans like myself are reveling in seeing this scrappy bunch of scamps playing their hearts out this year. Daniel Murphy has become a giant among mortal men. Home run after home run fly from his bat and yet he is disrespected by the voice of the Mets who noted that “I have no interest in bringing back Daniel Murphy”.

Met fans like myself were horrified to hear such mutterings. We are on a roll, we finished first in a division where only one other team had more wins than losses. We beat the hated Los Angeles Dodgers and are on the verge of eliminating the hapless Chicago Cubs. We can do this, I know we can, I know we can.

So tonight as we sit watching our Blue and Orange wave crash into the Chicago Cubs and march our way to our first World Series appearance in 25 years we will unite as one, rise to our feet and shout..................

Editors note: Hours after posting this piece Michael Grattini was found wandering the streets of Pleasant Valley mumbling Fonzie....Agbyani....Fonzie......Agbyani. Friends and family may visit the 6^th floor psychiatric ward at Mid Hudson Medical between the hours of 4 pm and 6 pm. Please leave all sharp objects at the door.

Pope T.V.

Like many people across the country, I spent some time this week watching Pope TV. I was interested in hearing what this man of god had to say, and for someone like me who was raised catholic but has wandered from the church and their teachings it was quite a step to say the least. The Pope has been tweaking the interest of “wanderers” like me for some time now. We here snippets of speeches that make us raise our eyebrows and say hmmmmmmm, we see him riding around in a Fiat and say hmmmmmm, but there is one one reason that kept me tuning in each night to Pope TV.

I wanted to see a miracle.

I can not be the only person who was watching Pope T.V. waiting for a miracle. I mean we have all seen miracles in our lives. The 1969 Mets, miracle. The 1980 USA Hockey team, miracle. My getting a date on a Saturday night, miracle in waiting. We refer to those occurrences things as miracles but really they are just a matter of being in the right place at the right time, there is no divine intervention for a sports team winning a championship or me getting a date. That is why I wanted to see a real miracle.

Each time the Pope got out of his car and walked over to a child in need to deliver a blessing I wanted desperately for that child to be able to walk, to see or to hear. I thought for sure that if anyone could do this, he was the man who could. He would bring a shining light from the sky's down onto this person and heal them of whatever terrible affliction they may have. Each night I was disappointed that the Pope didn't deliver. I didn't get my miracle, but I continued to tune in.

On Friday night after another particularly distressing week at work I tuned in to Pope T.V. once again just as the Pope preparing to ride through Central Park en route to his mass at Madison Square Garden. Ah-ha I thought, if there is going to be a miracle what better place for it to happen than at Madison Square Garden, the home of miracles!

As the Popemobile cruised through Central Park I was astounded at the tens of thousands of people who had gathered just to capture a glimpse of the Pope. Thousands crying, thousands smiling, thousands cheering and thousands holding up their cell phones so that they might capture a moment in time they will hold dear for the rest of their lives. The motorcade was running late so the pope did not have time to exit his vehicle to deliver any blessings and again I began to wonder if I was going to be disappointed. His ride through the park was short and quick but the people who came to see him were still crying, smiling and cheering well after he was gone. Hmmmmmmm.

The Pope arrived at Madison Square Garden via his Fiat again to thousands and thousands of people just waiting for a look at the man I hoped was going to perform a miracle. He was whisked into the back of the Garden and got into a golf cart that would carry him around the Garden floor so that he might greet the 20,000 people who had gathered to hear him and watch him perform a mass.

As his golf cart slowly worked its way through the tight aisles his driver stopped as the Pope looked upon a child who was being held by its father. The Pope raised his hand, blessed the child and then gave a blessing to both parents. The mother and father cried tears of joy and hope. 

That's when I realized that I had seen my miracle.

All this time I was looking for the miracle to be a cure, something substantial that I could see, when all the while the miracles were right in front of me every night watching Pope T.V. This Pope came and gave millions of people hope. He gave them smiles, tears and the feeling that their god was there for them. He helped them believe that he cared about each and every one of them, and for most the real miracle was just him being here. He touched each them without touching them, he spoke to each of them without speaking to them and he cured them without curing them. Some of their lives will never be the same because of a kiss on the forehead, a blessing or just a smile.

So in the end I guess the Pope showed me my miracle. Now I can't wait for Saturday night.

The Art of the Lie

Ahhh the Lie. A simple three letter word that can change the world.

Simply defined by Websters a lie is;

Noun

1. a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood.

Synonyms: prevarication, falsification.

How can this tiny little word do so much damage, change so many lives and tarnish the images of people we hold in high regard. Before I go any further I would like to quote one of the wisest men to have ever graced the television airwaves. His name, Mr. George Costanza. His quote “Jerry, just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it”. 

My question is do we honestly (odd word to use in the scenario) believe our own lies or those told to us?

Point in case, during my tenure in art school as an aspiring photographer I showed my teacher a photo of the Ridgewood train station. “Tom, I just printed this photo of the train station, what do you think”? Tom, in his very thick British accent replied “very nice”. Maybe it was the accent but “very nice” from him turned into “My god, this is incredible, you have captured the majesty, the mystery the aura of serenity all in this special moment, there's a Pulitzer in this one for you” or so I believed as I merrily skipped away to continue my photo history of the Erie Lackawana Railroad.

The reality of the “very nice” was as I found out a few days later from a fellow student went something like this, “If that fucking kid shows me one more bloody photo of that god damn train station I'm going to tie his arse (the British say arse) up, lay him on the tracks, call him Pauline and wait for the next train to spread him from here to Manahttan”'

That of course is an example of believing a lie, as is the ever popular “SPEEDING!!! What do you mean officer, I wasn't speeding, what about the guy in front of me, now he was speeding, as a matter of fact I was just a bout to dial 911 and report him, I think he had guns, I'm sure I saw a foot sticking out of the trunk, I was just trying to stay with him until the authorities could catch up, look he's getting away”. “DRINKING!! Now way, I only had two beers all night, go ask the bartender”'

But recently there has been a gentleman in the news who obviously suffers from a severe case of Costanzaitits. “Tommy, just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it”.

Tom Brady now stands among The greatest liars of all time, Mr. I did not have sex, Bill Clinton, Mr. Weapons of mass destruction, George W. Bush, Mr. I never did steroids, Alex Rodriguez, Mr. We don't torture detainees, Dick Cheney and Mr. I am not a crook, Richard Nixon, and has become the newest member of “it's not a lie if you believe it club”.

Now I'm not calling Tom a cheater as many have. Actually I don't care about that at all. Players have been looking for an advantage over one another ever since Spiros whacked Achilles in the heel during the first ever 100 yard dash. It doesn't matter that Tom conspired to let air out of footballs, if you read the tabloids you'd know that ever since Tom has been married to Giselle he's had deflated balls.

My issue is “Tommy, just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it”, and I am sure that Tom believes that he didn't coax two lackeys to let the air out of the balls, that he didn't text them after they did it, that he really does need a new cell phone every six months and that his lie is more harmful to the game than the shenanigans he purported with the footballs.

If we believe in what the cherry tree did for George Washington, then sometimes we have to suck it up, look someone in the eye and say “hey kid your photo sucks”.