Hope you had a chance to catch this one.

I was always a big Rolling Stones guy.  A few of my boys were diggin’ on Zeppelin.  Some liked the Beatles.

Check out James Corden of the Late, Late, Show and Paul McCartney…


Dedicated to Joe Mussa, Tommy Brick, and  Jack Kelly.






The German poet Wilhelm Busch once said, “To become a father is not hard. To be a father is, however.”

Today is Father’s Day.

Father's Day

I have had so many people wish me a happy father’s day and I did the same.  Reaching out to many of my friends who are fathers, it’s a special day for sure.

The stories I read on social media from these men about their dads are heart-warming.  You can feel a real connection. When I look back, the only stories I can honestly tell you are sad ones.

My father left our family when I was five, maybe it was six. I might have been seven?

He left my mother alone… to raise three kids.  She didn’t have a high school diploma.


The year was 1969.  Or wait,  maybe it was 1970?  Regardless, it was a great year if you were a sports fan in New York City.  I loved sports, especially basketball. The Mets, Jets and Knicks all were able to capture championships in their respective sports.

Despite being absent from of our lives, my father, whom everyone called ‘Gooch’ would come around on Saturday mornings to take me with him to Timboo’s down on fifth avenue.  These trips began when I was around 11, maybe 12?

But it was all bullshit.

I think he was trying to make my mother happy by getting me out of the house.

He gave me money from time-to-time.  A five-spot here, sometimes he’d throw a twenty my way.

I was happy, but not for long.  Soon as the money ran out, I was miserable.

Gooch gave me a little bit of his time but the most important thing I needed was love.

The Gooch didn’t know how to love anyone. All he wanted to do was chase women, drink and gamble. He had a big mouth, but like John Wayne once said in “The Cowboys,”

“A big mouth doesn’t make a big man.”

But it’s alright. The Gooch has been long gone. I won’t write anymore about him, you can paint your own picture. Good luck with that.

The one thing the whole experience did teach me was to be the best dad I can be to my daughter. I never thought I would be a parent.

But I learned how to be a outstanding and caring father to my daughter Taylor.

Gooch showed me what NOT TO DO.

I’m begging you, a parent can’t let their children down; especially if the father has a boy/son. The minute you stop being a father, you’re hurting the kids.

The fantastic author, J.R. Moehringer once said, “For a boy to become a man, he first must see a man.

As a kid, I never saw a man.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there.




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I am sitting in Starbucks drinking an iced coffee with whole milk and 4 splenda.

This guy, probably in his 40’s comes walking in wearing a New York Mets cap.

Met Power

Here in East Lansing, Michigan in the 22 years I have been around, I have not seen one New York Mets hat.   I’ve seen a few Yankees caps but Mets? Not so much.

“Yo, you a Mets fan?’ I ask him.

“Yeah I am.”

“Cool, you don’t see many Mets hats around here,” I reply.

“I’m from New York,” the Mets fan says.

“Which part?” I ask.

“The City, Manhattan.”

“Oh sweet, I’m from Brooklyn.”

Dude turned out to be cool.  A friend of his showed up moments later, he was from Queens.

We chatted a bit.

Three boroughs covered in an East Lansing Starbucks…






To Karen Artz-Shanley

The Gang

As a kid growing up in the neighborhood, Karen lived on Windsor Place between 7th and 8th avenues.  We hung out together for many years and went through Holy Name as classmates.

Have a great day Karen…



My mom, Mary Corrigan, died early this morning at her home in Brooklyn after a mercifully brief illness.


She had lived in Windsor Terrace for more than 60 years and had celebrated her 90th birthday on March 27th.


The family will receive visitors at the Joseph G. Duffy Funeral Home, 255 Ninth Street, between 2-5 pm and 7-9 pm on Sunday.

A funeral mass will be celebrated at Church of the Holy Name, 245 Prospect Park West, at 10 am on Monday.

RIP Mrs. Corrigan…