And a Very Good Evening To You

Our friend Mr. Scully is beginning the swan song of 67 years of magic in the broadcast booth. The Dodgers can say they're not replacing him, and believe me, they can't. If they think what they've hired or have in mind or currently have on staff will suffice, they're nuts.

There are people (present company included) who will care about the Dodgers only because of Vin. Next year, they go right back to the being the hated Dodgers. Once a bum, always a bum indeed.

But for now, let's enjoy the approximately 87 games that the master will give us in 2016. He met the media yesterday for the first time in spring training before calling his first spring game. The gremlins at MLB.com (or here at the Exit 55 Rest Area) won't allow me to embed the video.

Vin and Joe, circa 1984. Yes, I want those jackets. Photo courtesy Getty Images

Also worth watching is this wonderful tribute to Vin's Game of the Week partner, Joe Garagiola.  Here are Vin and Joe, calling a 1987 weeknight game on NBC as the Royals (and George Brett, again) beat the Yankees.

There was a reason why I hated George Brett. He devoured the Yankees.

27 Years

My dad's picture book, ca. 1940

I had a post written this morning, and it somehow got deleted. I'm not going to try to repeat it. Somehow I feel like someone is saying to me, "Dude. Get over it."

My dad's been gone for 27 years.

I've written words and words and words. I still feel the loss everyday.

I looked at picture I posted of him and I this morning and said, "Was he real? Did he ever really exist?"

I don't know if that makes sense. I know he was real. I can still hear his voice and his laugh.

Anyway, so ends another St. Patrick's Day. 

Follow this link to see how you write about loss, by the way. 

An Update

A few minutes ago, I posted the update to a post called Award Winner, now renamed Award Winner (Not Really).

It was also referenced in this post.

Anyway, as I wrote in the award post, Susan and I were not the winners of the NENPA award for Multimedia, as we originally thought. Our colleagues Maureen, Jenny, and Mario were the winners and through a series of mistakes, I wound up going to Boston and accepting the award that I thought Susan and I had earned. They should have been the ones heading to Massachusetts instead of me.

I think I can still talk for Susan when I say we're both incredibly proud of our work. The crew that accompanied me on the broadcasts related to the 2015 Connecticut Girls Ice Hockey Championship game and subsequent interviews helped create memorable audio that was heard around the world. Susan was inspired by us to write a stunning editorial.

It would have been remarkable to share the award with a person whose work I greatly admire (I mean, read this - a gorgeous poem about loss - and get back to me).

The stars were the teams and coaches (Simsbury, East Catholic, Glastonbury, South Windsor). They showed the greatest grace of all.

Hopefully we called attention to what was a confusing situation in 2015.

That confusion rolled into 2016.

Incidentally, a worthy watch (since we're talking about girls ice hockey) is Anya Battaglino's appearance earlier this week on Nutmeg Sports. Pretty cool. A great reminder that athletes are athletes, regardless of gender.

Bud Collins

Dick Enberg and Bud Collins, 1982. Photo by Art Seitz/NBC/NBCU

The news broke yesterday that Bud Collins -- as strong a voice in the media as tennis has ever had -- died at the age of 86.

Ah, the memories of watching Breakfast at Wimbledon on NBC with Dick Enberg and Bud. Dick's "Oh my!" combined with Bud's encyclopedic knowledge, good guy rapport, and sense of humor (not to mention the trademark pans), made for some appointment TV through the 80s and 90s.

Tennis is weaker today. Certainly sadder. Oh the sport will be just fine, but something was lost for me. Heck, something was lost for me when Enberg and Collins split up.

I met Mr. Collins in the late 90s, when I was at Flushing Meadows. Yes, do not be fooled by the fact I was in the shadow of Shea Stadium. Heck, the Beatles played there, as did the Yankees in 1974 and 1975.

Anyway, I was there having won tickets to watch the Imus in the Morning show at the US Open. Bud, a frequent guest of the I-Man, was there with his wife, Anita. I was able to say hello to both of them at one point, as they left the court on which the show was being broadcast from. They were both very gracious and kind to spend the briefest of moments saying hello.

Truly, it was a passing thing.

Thanks, Bud. I hope more people read up on what an important man you were for sports, tennis, and media.

Last Game of the Season

Darien wins the Girls FCIAC Title last Saturday.

There comes a point where, no doubt, the crew is ready to say goodbye.

I'm usually not that person.

Later today, at Terry Conners Rink in Stamford, Greenwich will play St. Joseph for the FCAC Championship. As it currently stands, it will be my last hockey call for many months.

It struck me last night that, following Westhill's win over Danbury in the basketball final, I was done with hoops as well.

Oh sure, I know baseball is approaching (and isn't it fantastic?), and lacrosse, and much more, and before we know it, the cycle will go around again, but there is something sad about putting the notes away.

It's been a manic couple of months. Just like the manic couple before that. Yet it's a good manic. It feels a little more like there's a rhythm to it all now. Indeed, it's down to a science.

Admittedly, times have changed. That last football game of a season could spell the last game I'd call -- in ANY sport -- for months. So it's not like I'm walking away from everything in a few hours.

So what I'll do is what I always do. I'll call the game. I'll have fun doing it. I'll work with friends. We'll rock it all as a team.

Then a champion will be crowned. Hopefully people will tweet us and have a good time with it all.

Then I'll reflect. The odds that I'll be happy with the call? Slim, at best. It's just how I am.

I've come to know that there are some who want the broadcast for posterity. They'll want to hear that final call or big moment. I'm honored by that, but it's also a little intimidating. I've reached a point in my life where certain calls are quoted to me ("Eat a sandwich. Catch a touchdown.").

I appreciate it. I laugh at it. Yet I don't want to think about it. I don't want it to be rehearsed. The whole process needs to come off as natural and spontaneous.

One last frenetic hockey game for me later today. Two outstanding goalies: Nick Bozzuto (Greenwich) and Ryan Wilson (St. Joseph). A new champion will take its place (St. Joseph has never won, and Greenwich last won in 2009).

A few hours after that, Darien will play ETB for the girls state championship. Best of luck to both teams.

I'm rambling here. Just thinking about the end of the season.

Seasons change.

A Disappearing Post

A few weeks back, I posted some good news that I received in Boston. Within hours, I found out the news might not have been as good as initially reported. I thought about how to handle it here on the ol' bippity bobbity blog.

I took the post down, and put it back into "draft" status. Once I get further clarification, I will repost it - regardless of the outcome. At that time, I will also tell you "the rest of the story."

So if you saw it, and now see it's gone, well, yeah. Now you know.

A Bad Dream

Yep. That pretty much sums it up.

I had a dream last night, and it absolutely rocked my world.

I don't usually have very memorable dreams, but on occasion, I have ones that pop up. My father, no surprise, has visited me a few times, most notably in a dream so vivid, that I still remember the details.

We were in a car (perfect place for us) and I started talking with him about why he died. I started asking him why he had to leave us. Yet there he was, in this car, talking with me. It was clear. Memorable. Most of the time, I know I'm dreaming. This time, I did not.

I woke up with a tremendous thud.

I won't discuss last night, but I'll only say it was bad. As in I need to use italics bad.

About the worst thing I can imagine.

Again, it woke me up, horribly. Still I was relieved to discover that it was only a dream.

Yet I wound up awake for a few hours, watching whatever I could find on TV and reading my iPad. I was finally able to get back to sleep, but I'm still a wreck over it.

Oh yeah, add in some debit card fraud (no, I'm not in Illinois today, thank you very much), and I'm just a touch rattled.

There's the obvious silver lining that all, otherwise is fine, and I'm quite fortunate. The dream wasn't real and the debit card was quickly resolved.

But it's still in the back of my mind.

Ladies and gentleman, Mr. Roy Orbison.

Cats and Cradles

My child arrived 14 years ago today. He came to the world in the usual way, but there were games to catch and bills to pay... (with apologies to Harry Chapin)

Sean Robert Adams, the pride of a family, was born on this day in 2002. One can't help but marvel at where time has gone.

It's been said many times that Sean is Sean. I love him for that. I don't want him to be anyone else. He loves Minecraft and Super Mario Maker and Doctor Who. He loves cats. He goes on about things that are of very little interest to me, but interest me because of him.

He's among the best travel companions I'll ever know. He kept me company for every step of our drives to and from North Carolina. Oh yeah, his head is into some device, but he's there.

We're thick as thieves as father and son, and thankfully he is the most patient of kids. I've dragged him to countless games and broadcasting events.

I often think about how I've failed him. There seems to be the notion that kids must do certain things due to peer pressure. Yet he overall doesn't complain, but if it wasn't for certain moments of serendipity, he wouldn't have had some of the experiences that he has had. Certainly our trip to Vermont last August comes to mind. If it wasn't for my job, that wouldn't have happened. Yet not only was he invited, but he was a welcomed part of a gathering of adults.

He gets bullied and I talk to him about that a lot. I always want him to know that there are avenues to deal with such things.

He's a sensitive soul with a great sense of humor.

Life has dealt us curveballs that we've adjusted to. We don't do Wednesday dinners often anymore - if at all. That's on me (and thus I hear "Cats in the Cradle" playing). We've obviously had changes in our lives. I don't nearly see him enough.

We're able to try to talk about anything. He's certainly there for me, and has a mature, yet childlike approach to everything. When I was pretty annoyed about something a few weeks ago, I was able to talk to him. That's a rare gift.

He holds certain things in. I know what is hurting him, but he doesn't want to make too much of it.

I've no doubt talked about him way too much. I've shared countless pictures and stories. To a point, I apologize for that. Yet I don't.

My life changed on February 23, 2002. It's a day I'll never forget. I became a father, and there is no job I've relished more. I've screwed it up, no doubt, but I'm so proud of this kid.

I looked at his mother a few months ago and said, "He's a great kid."

He is. He's working on becoming a great young man.

Incidentally, he starts high school in the fall.

Happy birthday, Sean.

Award Winner (Update: Not Really)

UPDATE: Below are the thoughts from early in the morning on Sunday, Feb. 21. A few hours later, we began to find out that there might have been a mistake. I took the post down later that evening, after I returned from Boston. In fact, Susan Shultz and I did not win the award seen above. Through a series of confusion, we were named as nominees and, eventually, winners. While the whole thing is embarrassing (if that's the right word), I congratulate Mario, Jenny, and Maureen, our colleagues who are the real winner of this award. I've decided to leave the original post up, but want to make sure that I'm pleased that HAN still picked up another ward, and that Mario, Jenny, and Maureen are deserving winners.

*****

I'm still trying to process this.

I have to get ready to leave Boston and head back home, but I still can't believe this.

Surreal? Yeah.

I'm not an awards person, and I drove Susan Shultz and Paul Silverfarb nuts with that very thought. They pushed me to please come to Boston (there's a song in there).

It was a team effort, except for Susan. She wrote a great editorial (nothing new there). I had Paul, Eric Gendron, Jake Zimmer, and Chris Kaelin to help me call the girls hockey game and get the interviews that followed the game and produced this award.

It's important for the teams and the players to know that we're grateful to them for their grace and talent.

I'm honored my name is on it.

I'm thrilled HAN Network is on it. It's our first award of any kind.

I'm proud to share it with Susan and the Darien Times.

I had to step away and have a moment. Thoughts of Pop came into my brain, especially as I texted and messaged the people who wanted to know if we won.

We waited all night, and were almost the last award given out. I shot raw video so that Susan could see and hear it for herself.

I trembled as I walked up there. I shook as I posed for pictures.

I need breakfast. I'm rambling.

Maybe I'm amazed.

There's a song there also.

Speaking of Susan, find this book. Buy it. You'll enjoy it.

A Day in Boston

I'm in Boston this weekend for the NENPA convention. It's my third time here for the convention, though I've been to Boston many times.

The day was spent in seminars and talking, and spending time with former colleague and good friend Paul Silverfarb.

Later in the day, after grabbing a cup of coffee, we walked to a nearby piano store so that Paul could get some advice on his own piano. At the end of the conversation, he asked if he could play one. He sat down at a gorgeous, $125,000 Steinway and played pieces of a few songs.

Rather gorgeously, I might add.

He broke into "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)" by Billy Joel, and I admittedly had to walk away for a moment to compose myself. It's a song that takes me back to when Sean was a baby. I can still hear it on the CD player every night when he went to bed.


It still grabs me quite emotionally. My little boy keeps getting older (there will likely be more about that in a few days).

It also worked as a way to divert my attention from other things in that moment. I don't understand some things in life.

I'm babbling, I guess.

And so it goes.

Pictures...memories

1986...

2016 (courtesy Shawn Sailer)

Pictures can tell us so much. They can be painful. They can be sweet. Great memories. Bad memories.

They also tell the story of time.

I remember my family putting some old home movies on one night, and my dad getting upset because he didn't really want to watch them. For reasons all his own, they were sad.

I found myself looking through an album this morning for a picture from 1986 that I used in the last post. It made me smile to see the memory of posing with characters at Disney World, along with other assorted trinkets. Pictures of my dad, sister, brother, nieces, aunts, uncles, my grandparents, my beloved cat Bandit, and more.

In short, as both pictures show above, I enjoy being silly. Standing with the Big Bad Wolf or Cinderella (her hair felt like a horse brush) or making a goofy face for Shawn Sailer as we got ready to go on the air on Thursday night.

I'll post more, maybe, as time goes on.

Oh, it's still Valentine's Day...yeah...more HLN. When this baby hits 88 miles per hour...

Perspective: Weather

Just a couple of guys hanging with a blonde in Florida in 1986.

It was -6 when I woke up this morning here in the 8-4-5.

That's six below zero Fahrenheit. Or 21 below Celsius.

Around here, everyone is posting pictures of thermometers or screen grabs from their smartphones.

In short, it's really cold. It's the lead story on the news, of course.

Yet in International Falls, MN, it is currently eight. They're fairly used to that.

In Fairbanks, AL, it's four below. Yeah. They know a thing or two about that also.

It's currently one here. We're not used to that.

It will be in the fifties by Tuesday.

And we'll all be sick by Wednesday.

Pitchers and catchers report to Tampa on Thursday. I spent several President's Days around Tampa. Thus we have the picture of the two dudes and a girl that they met in 1986 at the top. We were dared to pose with her.

Oh and it's Valentine's Day. So there's that. Do you believe in love?

Off the Bench Sunday

I posted the above picture on social media earlier today. It's just a good reminder. I tend to live in the moment, believing in two of my favorite mantras:

"All I want from tomorrow is to get it better than today." - Bruce Hornsby/John Hornsby (sung by Huey Lewis)

"Keep moving forward" - said by many, I assume, but used frequently here.

Anyway, once in a while, I get hung up. There's nothing deeper to what I'm saying here, except to say that when I saw my old friend John Monty of Sears days (1986-1988) post it on Instagram, I had a moment of EUREKA!

Or HOLY MOLY! I'm not sure which.

So there's that. I'm just reminding myself to live in the here and now.

***** (please notice I use five stars, because 55 would look ridiculous)
So hey, er, that was some game last night in Arizona, no? A week after the utter insanity of Steelers/Bengals (Bengals=thugs, Steelers/Joe Porter=not 100% smart), we got an "off-the-hook" game last night.

Remember one key thing though: Larry Fitzgerald is one fantastic football player. One kids should emulate.

Speaking of that Packers/Cardinals games, this is a crazy good play-by-play call from one of the absolute best: Kevin Kugler of Westwood One.
He keeps it simple. Works in some humor. Gives you all of the details. Isn't too flashy. He's absolutely brilliant.

*****
I give the Steelers very little chance today in Denver. No Antonio Brown? No DeAngelo Williams? Banged up Ben Rothlisberger? A weak secondary?

Yeah. No.

*****
Pitchers and catchers report in last than a month. Consider this a public service announcement.

I was partially responsible for the notion of #Metsies15. I believed in that team, even when they weren't playing so well. Then they went to the World Series, and doggone it, they lost.

Given the offseason they're having, I'm struggling with the notion of #Metsies16.

Though, with that pitching, well, yeah.

#Metsies16 it is!

*****
On Friday, this happened:

The Force is strong with me, I think.

*****
I hope you catch the HAN Network soon (if you haven't already). We have hockey twice this week, along with hoops, programs, and more. Go check everything out at han.network.

As parodies of sports broadcasts go, this had me cracking up.

The Year of Vin Begins

The 1979 CBS Sports NFLTeam

Unless things change, 2016 will be the final year in the career of Vin Scully.

Normally I would use an adjective to describe his career, but really, what more is there to say? He's remarkable, great, legendary, iconic, etc. Words aren't necessary, but I will undoubtedly say and type so many before it's all over.

I decided, since it's January 1, and it's traditionally a football day*, I would find a pigskin highlight featuring Vinny.

* It's evolving, folks. I used to live for college football on January 1, but hockey has definitely grabbed a share. Reasons for this? The football games have all moved to other outlets (mostly ESPN), and there's just nothing compelling about them anymore. Today's games, in particular, were awful, and last night's semifinals drew terrible ratings.

Hockey, and the Winter Classic (no matter how terrible today's game was) has stepped into the spotlight. Give me that.**

** Dear Yankees, the NHL very much wanted the first Winter Classic, pre-lockout, to be at Yankee Stadium. They wanted Rangers-Bruins. You were part of the reason it didn't happen. Sadly. Let's fix that.

Anyway, back to Vin. Here's just a small highlight, from September 24, 1978. Vin is calling the action on CBS, with coach George Allen, and Jim Brown (no introduction necessary). Let's just say Coach Allen gets a touch excited, as does Brown. Vinny does what Vinny does as Earl Campbell shows why he was a legendary running back.

The Flip of the Calendar

Sean - The Doctor's Apprentice - plays his new WiiU.

So we're done with this year.

It's tempting to look back at 2015 and break it all down. Sure, it was trying, but it does me no good to wallow in the mire*.

*Come on, baby, light my fire.

I'd rather, if anything, look at the good. There was plenty. So many broadcasts. So many shows.

So. Many. Games. I loved it. Call fifteen baseball games over five days? YES, PLEASE?!?

A favorite picture, with one of my closest friends: Paul Silverfarb, in Cooperstown.

I got to travel a bit - even if I never left the east coast. I still got to visit Boston, Scranton twice (mock if you wish), Cooperstown, Vermont, and everything between here and the North Carolina/South Carolina border.

As always, friendships were strengthened. Relationships were deepened. We loved. We lost.

There was bad to 2015, but there's bad to every year. I'd rather focus on the good, and of course, keep moving forward©.

Again, there was good.

There are things that drive me for the future. I said this a year ago - about wanting certain things badly. Nothing has changed.

Two guys talking sports. John Kovach and I rocking in Cooperstown.

We didn't do much around the bloggity this year, and for that, I apologize. But I'm grateful - so very - for the views. For every kind word. Even the criticisms. They sting. Sure. But they help make me better. They give me things to think about. I got more criticism of my broadcasting than ever this year, and that had much to do with more ears and eyeballs on it. I think about all of it, and assess it. Then I move on and decide how to address it.

Two guys, 50 FCIAC Championships: Chris Erway and I.

I love my friends and their support means so much to me.

While my family vexes me, I still love them.

I'm honored by the people who have helped make HAN Network a machine. A couple of times stand out to me:

- Cooperstown, in which I glanced over my shoulder at one point on NY Route 28, to see I was the lead car of a whole bunch of HAN people, all dedicated to a kick-ass baseball broadcast. We did that, and a lot more. The spirit there is remarkable.

- The New England Babe Ruth Regional, where we did those 15 games. Then I rested my voice.

- Vermont, where for four days, we spoke with business leaders and more in some truly beautiful settings. My great son was there. Plus we didn't get electrocuted when our tent was launched onto wires.

- The Turkey Bowl/FCIAC Championship game, where we put on one hell of a broadcast, despite being minutes from possibly not getting on the air. It's where my 25 years in this business came in handy. I knew - KNEW - we'd find a way to pull it off. The number of games that haven't made the air in my career have been minimal, and that one was going to be fine.

Kato and I. Laughing and drinking coffee.

The images that I shared here represent just a few of the many wonderful moments. I can't possibly represent everyone and everything.

There are more. Many more highlight moments. Laughs with those great friends of mine. Dinners. Quiet moments. Moments of reflection.

Things that I've learned about myself.

"All I want from tomorrow is to get it better than today." A wise man once wrote that (Bruce Hornsby) and a great man sang it (Huey Lewis).

Onto 2016. Another day follows January 1. Let's make that one better than the one before. Then repeat.

Sean gets shy talking about "Snakey."

Onward.

The Final Nutmeg Sports of 2015

Casey Kasem on the left, and Shadoe Stevens on the right...counting 'em down!

This came together quickly.

Nutmeg Sports - our final broadcast on HAN Network in 2015 - counted down a top 15 of 2015.

I put the list together on Sunday with a random collection of memories. Then I tossed the idea towards both AJ Szymanowski and, eventually, Eric Gendron. Initially, it seemed too last minute.

Then we put it together. A couple of final suggestions came in, and with social media from Kate Czaplinski, video editing from Eric, audio editing and photo selection from me, a nudge from Susan Shultz for a particular call*, and Marty Hersam's enthusiasm, we banged it.

Donald Eng joined me for the show (he's normally not available on Wednesday's) to co-host.

It's one of my favorite shows of the year.

Just phenomenal work from the HAN Network team.

*People have quoted a few calls and comments to me over the years. It seems that "Eat a sandwich, catch a touchdown" is a favorite. I appreciate the love for it, but I've used lines like that before. Nevertheless, I'm happy it resonated, although maybe not so much with the Trumbull Eagles. Susan told me that she thought it was hysterical, and that her reporter, Kevin Webb, has even mentioned it. Yet it's more about Michael Collins, the New Canaan quarterback who threw nine touchdowns that night, en route to eventually breaking the state season record. It's about the games and the athletes. So the call was fun. I hope it enhanced it.

Here it is - the final show of 2015. Thanks for watching.

A Christmas Song?

I just saw a post on the evil of FB from old friend John Monteforte (ah, the Sears days of 1986-88) about Christmas songs.

Indeed, for instance, The Pretenders* didn't intend "2000 Miles" to become a holiday staple, just because it mentions Christmas. Alas, it has.

* Incidentally, every now and then I come back to listening to The Pretenders, and if you need educating, let me just say Chrissie Hynde rocks. I mean, so does James Honeyman-Scott, Pete Farndon, and Martin Chambers (the original lineup for the first two albums, along with Hynde), as well as the lineup she used on Learning to Crawl, their 1984 album. Both Honeyman-Scott and Farndon had died and she regrouped with Malcolm Foster on bass and the wonderful Robbie MacIntosh on guitar. Maybe it's the correct spelling of Robbie that I like about him. Anyway, getting way off-topic, I recently revisited The Pretenders' first album. Wow. That's basically the point. Start with "Precious" and let Hyndy simply punch you in the gut.

Wow. Again.

Ok, I digressed wildly there.

Now, back to non-Christmas-yet-Christmas songs.

This isn't a Christmas song. Yet it mentions Christmas. As I write, it's Christmas Eve. Again, alas.

Turn on all the Christmas Lights (and listen).


Such a great, under appreciated song from Billy Joel. The Nylon Curtain has long sat right near the very top of my favorite albums of his, and this song is part of why.

Music (Non-Christmas Division) Just Because

Ah yes...1991...

Here's an old HLN song I saw on the evil of Facebook today.

The song was on the album Hard at Play, and came out in 1991. Yes, the video and the song ooze of 1991, but so be it. The band is in major blues/soul mode. He don't know. No, I mean he really doesn't know.

But I do.

Favorite album? No. Favorite song? Nah.

It's still Huey and Johnny and Chris and Mario and Bill and Sean. The original lineup.

That's all.

Perfection - Sinatra

Sinatra and Basie

I've said this before.

I'll say it again.

Frank Sinatra, with Count Basie and his Orchestra (conducted by Quincy Jones), in an arrangement by Nelson Riddle, performing "I've Got You Under My Skin" in early 1966 is just about the greatest piece of recorded music I've ever heard.

Written by Cole Porter, the song was part of a "wonderful new show" at the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas that was released as Sinatra at the Sands later in 1966. The overall album is widely-regarded as one of the greatest live shows ever put on record (or CD or 8-track or digital media). Rolling Stone placed it at 36th all-time.

The Chairman of the Board had just turned 50, and he is in fine voice throughout the album. But it's "I've Got You Under My Skin" that is simply blistering. Basie and the band don't overwhelm it. They sit in waiting, tingling along until WHACK!

That's when things explode.

It settles back down, with Frank's voice - that masterful interpretation - taking it from there.

Then it climbs until we reach the zenith: "Don't you know, you fool, there ain't no chance to win. Why not use your mentality?  Wake up! Step up to reality! Annnnnnnd each time I do, just the thought of you makes me stop just before I begin!"

Then a moment of silence. The slightest moment, as Sinatra breaks it down.

You feel it. You know our hero stands no chance.

None. He's trying to be wise. He's trying to recognize it and walk away.

He can't. He's whipped.

"Because I've got you," he sighs. "Under my skin. Yeah you're grabbing me under my skin."

Basie bangs the piano and we're done.

It's exhilarating and exhausting.

On this day - the 100th anniversary of Sinatra's birth, take a moment and listen to something of his. Even if it's not your genre. Just take three minutes and listen. Listen. Hear that voice. He's not just singing. It's something entirely different.

You'll feel it.

It's Sinatra.

Accept no substitutes.

A Smile

Tonight was Sean's holiday concert at his middle school. If you've been to one, then you know the drill. You wait patiently for your child/brother/friend/cousin/whomever to perform and try to survive the rest of the evening.

Sean rocked on the sax as always, but that wasn't the story of the night.

Sean doesn't have braces anymore. Yet that's not the story either. Not entirely.

Let's back up.

From the time he could do so, Sean had an electric smile. I mean, simply mega-watts. It was the expression handed down through generations.

Then, basically, it stopped.

He'd grin. He'd smile without showing his teeth. On occasions, he'd show his teeth, but it was the smile I was used to.

He didn't like his teeth.

He got braces a few years ago, and the smiles continued to hide, or be seen in moments with the braces showing.

Yet tonight, after he finished the concert and greeted his family, he posed for a picture. The braces were removed today, and I encouraged him to show those teeth off. This instantly became one of my favorite pictures of him.

By the way, here is his eighth grade picture. Still handsome for sure.