My Ramblings

I know this blog has become pretty random in the things I write about. This is because I do not have a particular goal in mind. But sometimes I get in the mood to put something into black and white, so I’ll stop, think for a minute about it and then come up with a story for the day. Right now I am listening to “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas it made me think of one of my many misadventures as a youth. Starting in 1974 when I was 17, I began going to San Francisco with some then-friends to see concerts. Some of these were at a place called Winterland, but I also went to several Days on the Green at Oakland Coliseum as well as other venues. For those who are unaware, Wikipedia has this to say about the Winterland: The Winterland Ballroom, often referred to as Winterland Arena or simply Winterland, was an ice skating rink and 5,400-seat music venue in San Francisco, California. Located at the corner of Post Street and Steiner Street, it was converted to exclusive use as a music venue

This story is about my little sister, Tina Gay Faddis who was third in line and the only girl in our family. She was a tad more than three years younger than me, the oldest and wasbetween Jeff and Kevin. Tina had the same birthday as my daughter, Heather (August 3) who was born exactly 25 years later. I remember Tina being a happy young girl. She was very smart, pretty and she liked to play with the other kids in our neighborhood. We lived on a cul-de-sac that that had six houses and a duplex, and each one had several kids living in them. The busiest house was across the street from us where the six Hair kids lived. Many days were spent having fun outside with all those kids. We played softball, hide and seek and wrestled on the lawn. Being the only girl in our family, Tina was teased a lot by the three of us boys. We made her laugh with our joking and she would get all worked up to the point she had to pee. Several times she was not able to make it to the bathroom in time which m

As I get older, I become frailer, like everyone I guess, but my rate of failure is accelerated. The primary reason for this is that I don’t take care of myself like an aging person should. For those who know me, you know how overweight I am and have been since I was about 12 years old. Battling my weight has been a losing struggle for me for the past 40 years. To be honest, I was able to carry all this fatness well until my late forties. Back in the day, when I was around 320 lbs., I could do most everything. I could walk a long way without my knees, feet and hips hurting, or getting out of breath. I played golf, basketball, softball, flag football and racquetball. My friends would comment that I was a good athlete and very agile for my size. I went to college with a guy named Steve Jackson who played basketball for the school. In pick-up games Steve like me to be on his team because, he said I “set a mean two-man pick.” Steve was a good ballplayer but his claim to fame is that he’s th

After church this morning I was approached in the foyer by a young man I calculated to be in his mid-thirties. He said he was a visitor and his name was Mike. I learned he is the son-in-law of one of the churches elders and I reckon I was pointed out by someone so he came over to talk to me. Mike said,” I really like reading your blog.” He said it makes him laugh and cry and that some of it is entertaining. Mike mentioned a couple of the entries, one of which included the one about Rick Criscione and I going to Mario’s. He went on to say he hopes I’ll continue to write it. I told him that as long as I can think of things to write about, I will do so. His encouragement has led me to write today’s entry. Back in the summer of 1978, I bought a car from my mother’s friends for $300 and it was one of the coolest rides I have ever owned. It was a 1964 Chrysler New Yorker and somewhere along the way one of my friends dubbed it the “Stanmobile.” To this day, whenever someone talks about tha

There is a door in our garage that opens to a 6x8 foot storage closest. I dread opening the door to inventory what’s inside that closet because it contains Daniel’s possessions. He lived with us prior to his death and I assigned him that storage area when he moved in. It is packed full from floor to rafters. The plan was for Daniel to move everything he left here, including his gun safe, and clothes at the end of June to his apartment in the Bay Area prior to his wedding on July 21. Going into the gun safe was less a problem because I knew more or less what was in there. Although, the safe did have in it a couple of “surprises” such as a gazillion rounds of ammunition od various calibers including five boxes of shotgun shells containing buckshot, nun chucks, throwing stars and 20+ knives of various sizes and styles. It has been more than six months since he died and I honestly do not know when I’ll be ready to sift through all that is in that closet. As a point of reference, my Mom