BOOK REVIEW: No Grey Areas by Joseph Gagliano

Joseph Gagliano was a central figure in the Arizona State University basketball point shaving scandal of the 1990s.  He has published a book about that event, his role in it and how his life took him there - and beyond.  I was asked to read the book and publish a reviews.  In the spirit of full disclosure, I was provided a complimentary copy of the book by the Cadence Marketing Group however the review is completely my own and I was never influenced by Cadence.


Admittedly I started reading “No Grey Areas” by Joseph Gagliano with healthy skepticism regarding motive.  He states in his introduction that he wrote the book in the “sincere hope for this story…to influence your thinking as you take your own steps.”

I didn’t buy it.  Even as I started reading it I wasn’t buying it.  It was as if a convicted felon was just trying to find a way to profit by his misdeeds under the veil of remorse.

An interesting thing happened from cover to cover.  By the end of the book, I cared about Joe.  I cared about what happened to him and I truly believed that he cared about what happened to the reader.  He transformed from Gagliano the felon, to Joe the walking, talking, cautionary tale.

He decent into bad decision making was gradual, but steady and unflinching.  An action junkie, Gagliano was seduced by the Chicago commodities market and the lure of easy money.  Scamming came easy for Gagliano, even as the voice in his head was telling him it was wrong, be it rigged Super Bowl squares, 900 numbers or, eventually, game fixing.

It was easy to push that voice back into the depths of his consciousness.  His story is even made more compelling by the legitimate success Gagliano attained through restaurants and then later in car washes.  He had the mind and the spirit to succeed in legitimate business but was unable to avoid the seduction of short cuts.  Eventually even doing the right thing couldn’t work out right and Joe found himself back in jail and writing his story.

While the allure of the book is the Arizona State basketball point shaving scandal of 1993-94, Joe’s story is much more.  More scams; more internal conflicts; more contradictions and, eventually, peace.  His road to redemption becomes more compelling as you read.

Most appealing is Joe’s writing style.  He’s good but not a professional – and it works.  Because it is his story and you can hear it in his voice.  At a time when life was bleakest he found salvation in an ex-football player preacher, an accepting parish community and true love.

I went from skeptic, to empathetic almost a fan.  I am rooting for Joe to make a go of life legitimately.  The breezy read will keep you engaged throughout and by the end you’ll want to see Joe make it as well – and maybe examine some of your own life choices.

Happy Holidays?

"This is for all the lonely people,
Thinking that life has passed them by"

- America, "Lonely People"

The holiday season is a time for family, friends, fellowship and goodwill.  The holidays are also, however, a dark time for many.  In several ways I’ve been reminded of this over the last week or so and it has made me tremendously sad.

Through a variety of events – both natural and man-made – my wife and I found ourselves flying solo for Christmas.  Christmas is also my wife’s birthday.  Because of the dual purpose of December 25^th in our lives, we split the day into morning Christmas and afternoon birthday.  Usually we take the gang bowling at our local casino resort and make a night out of it – mostly because it’s the only place open!  This year it would be just the two of us with one friend along.  We would stay the night and have fun.  An ice storm pushed our departure to Christmas Eve and we had two nights there and I spent a lot of time walking around and observing.

“He walks on, doesn't look back

He pretends he can't hear her
Starts to whistle as he crosses the street
Seems embarrassed to be there.”  

- Phil Collins “Another Day in Paradise”

One woman, loud and apparently exuberant, was playing a machine and loudly chiding it – talking to no one in particular but hoping someone would listen.  The sparkle in her eye was deceiving. It dissolved swiftly to an emptiness; a longing to be heard; to communicate; to have contact with another person. Funny at first, her act wore on those around her and they stopped playing along.  The more desperate she was, the more outrageous she would become.  Negative attention was still attention.  She eventually left, broke and broken. A smile on her face but a terrible sadness behind her eyes.

An older couple at the otherwise empty bar after midnight.  Eve was becoming Day but here last call was approaching and another drink was in order.  Faces red from time at the bar not from the ice storm outside, they talked at each other.  Heads down, no signs of closeness but a shared sadness was evident.

“Merry Christmas,” he said to her with not even a trace of a smile.

“Yeah…” she replied, never looking up.

No more words were spoken between the two.  Any intimacies they once shared were gone, beaten down by time and circumstance.  What it was that caused such obvious sadness wasn’t evident, but it was there.

“So many faces in and out of my life

Some will last
Some will just be now and then
Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes
I'm afraid it's time for goodbye again”

-          Billy Joel, “Say Goodbye to Hollywood”

On the eve of the Eve a friend passed away in Vegas.  Young guy.  Bright, talented, larger than life in many ways.  The circumstances were sad but ultimately, after losing his wife suddenly a year ago, I believe that he gave up.  I cannot imagine the magnitude of that loss on someone and for him it was the beginning of the end.  Only a couple of days before Christmas he lost his battle with infection and a series of small strokes and went to join his beloved wife.

One of my very dear friends, family really, lost her dad a few days before Christmas.  The man could light up a room and everyone in it.  Now that light was gone. A husband, father, grandfather and all around wonderful man was gone after a very long and courageous battle with cancer. For nearly 20-years I was able to call him my friend and, while my sense of loss is deep, it does not compare to his wife, children and many grandchildren that will now see the holiday season as a sad time.

Are these life’s blows that cause one to find themselves in a casino bar on Christmas Eve, unsmilingly drinking away heartache or causing an isolation so painful that in a desperate desire for human contact you resort to making a spectacle of yourself?

I’d like to wrap this up in a neat bow and a deep and meaningful conclusion, but I’m not sure that there is one.  It just “is”.

A Letter To My Hetero Life Mate

A Letter To My Hetero Life Mate

Ted,

I was going to write a blog about procrastination, but I put it off until later *Rim Shot*. I will be here all weekend and don’t forget to tip your waitress and for sure order the salmon special!

There are times when I think that the only reason we are still friends is because we know too much about each other and that the statue  of limitations isn’t up for most of the stuff we have done. Then there are times like last week, when you constantly checked up on me, even with a quick text or call. You have no idea how much that meant to me. You are by far the best man I know.

There are things that will always remind me of you:

•  Any time I see or hear a reference to “Remember the Alamo”
•  Any time I see a hot dog vendor or hear a really bad Italian accent
•  When I find myself lying in bed, with the same clothes on from the night before, but there are holes in the knees of my pants and my palms are filthy and have gravel pressing into them. (Dick move by the way)
•  Any time I hear Batman’s girlfriends name
•  Any time I see a Lamborghini and wonder how a fat guy could get in and out of that car
•  Any time I take a 4 hour lunch break to play craps or miniature golf
•  Any time I find out that somebody was “raised by wolves”
• Any time I run into somebody named “Jose Marimba”
•  Any time I turn a rental car in and they need to just throw it away instead of clean it out

You know, every day stuff!

And there are not so funny memories we share, breakups, illnesses, watching the fall of the World Trade Towers.  You were with me during some of the hardest parts of my life. Every step, and you and I know how rough some of those steps were.

Today we live 1600 miles apart and you are still there for me when I need you. Always giving me advice based on what’s best for me and not just your opinion. It’s like having my own Jiminy Cricket. You are also not afraid to tell me things I don’t want to hear or disagree with.

So today I am sitting here in my favorite pub, drinking bad coffee and laughing at all of our old mishaps and adventures. I miss seeing you every day but know you’re only a call or text away so I can get some of that old fashioned New England wisdom.**Chowda**

I will end this by saying it again; you are the best man I have ever known and thank you for all these years of your friendship. I look forward to many more years of this.

With love and affection (not in THAT way, but there’s nothing wrong with that…)

Your Buddy Chris

Remember, Be Inspired and Smile

There are moments in our lives that are overwhelming emotionally. Weddings, births and various milestones are all legitimate reasons to become overwhelmed with positive emotion.  For some us, sports can generate that kind of emotion. Not all sports and not all events - and certainly not the same events for all people - but there are a few that resonate across the ages for each of us that count sports as an important part of their lives.

For me, the first such event I remember clearly was the 1980 Miracle on Ice. Watching the game at the time was thrilling.  We beat the Soviets.  WE BEAT THE SOVIETS!  It was a miracle and Al Michaels captured the moment brilliantly.

At the time, though, it wasn't an emotional event.  Later, looking back on it 5-10 years later it was an emotional win.  It meant more later than it did at the time.  Maybe it is the passage of time that makes us look back on the perceived simpler time of our childhoods, though I think that is the easy answer.

I think a part of it is that nostalgia but also a growing appreciation for the event and its times.  The magnitude of the accomplishment.  As the years go by, the accomplishment isn't diminished in the prism of time but it is magnified.  As time travels and the feat isn't duplicated, it's magnitude grows and its impact on the individual deepens.

As I sit watching "Secretariat" on cable (its not like we don't own two copies ourselves...), I think about every single time I watch the 1973 Belmont and hear Chic Anderson erupt "He's moving like a tremendous machine" and how I tear up every time.  The accomplishment was so extraordinary.  So unworldly.  I THINK about the moment and I get emotional.  The same watching the American boys celebrate on the ice in 1980.  Another watching the 2004 Red Sox become the "champions of the baseball world" after 86 years of frustration and heartbreak.

These may not be your moments, but as a sports fan, you have your own, I'm sure of it. These moments land on our own timelines and become our own personal milestones; markers of time that let us remember greatness and bookmark the most extraordinary athletic moments of our lives.

Ultimately, they are happy moments.  Moments that you can look back on and draw strength and inspiration from, especially in times that are less than stellar.  Use them to remember, to laugh, to cry to drive you to excellence in aspects of your own life; to make you transcend the divisiveness and acrimony that seems to slat and pepper each day lately. 

Let it take you back and take you away.  You'll be glad you did.

Kap's Not Wrong...But He Is

It's been a while, but we've been busy - Fat Guys have lives, you know! - but there have been so many things that have sent me off to rant about that I've been totally frustrated and find myself wishing I had kept a list.

Finally, though, I have a moment (contain your excitement) and need to vent my spleen over this Colin Kaepernick brou-ha-ha.  Unlike so many expressing their opinions on social media, I apparently am near alone in thinking that this issue is more complex than memes allow.

Let me start with something really important: I don't agree with Kaepernick's choice of protest here.  HOWEVER, if you REALLY think that the reason behind it isn't valid, then you're living in a bubble. You can't look at what has happened in this country over the last 18 months or so and think everything is hunky dory. 

Kaepernick chose to stand up and have his voice heard by sitting down and he has caught a lot of flack for it from inside and outside the NFL.  He certainly has people talking, though regrettably not about the issues that need to be discussed.  You could say that's the fault of the listeners, not the speaker, but if you want your voice to be heard, you can't bury the lead either.

Here is where I think Kap erred.

The anthem and, by extension the flag, are broad representation of the United States of America as a whole. Neither are symbols of only oppression and divisiveness.  The Star Spangled Banner is an expression of freedom and democracy known around the world.  It is a symbol that our soldiers fight under, sure, but it also has flown (and been played) to honor our athletes in Olympics, welcomed countless millions to Ellis Island, provided broad opportunities for people to rise up through the lowest levels of society to make fortunes or even lead a nation.

Blatantly disregarding the anthem is to disregard all that have died in for this country as well as turning a blind eye to the broad spectrum of society that it represents and honors.  I am represented by that anthem and, perhaps more importantly, George Grevelis, the long gone founder of my family in America is represented by that anthem.  He never fought for his new country (they wouldn't let him, he was too old at the start of WWII and he was laughed out of recruiting offices all over the North Shore of Massachusetts, much to his lifelong regret), but he made it his home and raised sons who did serve and provided opportunities to his now countless great grand-children starting to make their way in, what was for him, a strange new land with limitless opportunity.

Before you think I'm going to get all holier than thou on you, we're not a perfect people.  That flag and then, after 1931, that national anthem, has overseen some horrendous acts of violence and state sanctioned racism. 

The anthem was played in concentration camps or, as we prefer to call them, "internment" camps of Japanese Americans during WWII.  The flag flew over slave trade markets for nearly two centuries before the Civil War.  It was the crusading flag in the banishment and attempted extermination of Native Americans.

These are not pretty or proud moments in our history, but for better or worse they shaped who we are and what we've become.  America isn't perfect but, for all her flaws, she's done a pretty good job being a beacon for the world; a ray of light in some of the darkest of times.  Much has been sacrificed by many - civilian and military alike - to get us where we are and more sacrifice will no doubt be required to make us even better.  The National Anthem will be the rallying cry that will call us all to do our duty like the many before us who already have.  Turning your back on all that represents has buried your point rather than enhanced it.  Ignoring all that is good and right in America by disrespecting the Anthem that now represents all of us, turns many away that would be in your corner.

NBA and WNBA players have protested and brought attention to the same issues you wish to be heard about in a way that educate and tried to bring people together, not by alienating most of mainstream America. They used a scalpel, not an axe. 

Again, I don't think that you're wrong in what you're trying to change, but it wasn't a well thought out way to go about it.  In my opinion, of course.

And a couple of final points before I close.

- Apparently to many of you the only people that can speak out about an issue are those directly affected by it.  Archbishop Iakovos, the late Greek Orthodox Archbishop for North and South America, marched with Dr. King (dark robes, big hat, beard, staff...you've seen him in the photos).  He was neither African-American nor oppressed, but he saw the plight of others and spoke with his words and actions.  Today's right wing social media would probably show him in a meme in his robes, in a full, ornate church with the words: "Tell me again how oppressed you are?" 

And what of Teddy Roosevelt, FDR and Lyndon Johnson?  All of whom were considered traitors to their class and/or race because of the causes they championed.  The thought that you have to be oppressed to understand it, say something about it or do something about it is simplistic - to say the very least.  Many of you running those memes out there on Facebook are many of the same people I read posting about what the underprivileged segments of our society really needs.  By your own logic there is no way you can know because you ain't them.

- Finally, remember a few months ago when you all were singing the praises of the recently departed Mohammed Ali?  Anyone recall all the hateful comments thrown his way in 1967?  Maybe you threw some yourself before praising him nearly 50 years later as a 'courageous hero'.  Fifty year hindsight can change the complexion of many issues and stances.  Keep that in mind as you attempt to tar and feather someone who might be making you a bit uncomfortable.

Living in Motion without Emotion - Life with Depression and PTSD

We started this blog to talk about stuff in our lives that make us want to rant. Stuff that makes us want to talk to the world in one way or another. Ted and I have an extremely connected sense of humor and communication. We talked about finding a forum where we could scream into the universe about things that bother us or make us happy and see what comes back. Little did we know that we would have thousands of views on our rants and ramblings. Some of our rants have been comical, some political, some about the heartbreaking state of our country and world. The connecting thread about all of them is that they are all genuine and come from our hearts. 

That being said, I have written this particular blog about eight times since we started, but never published it. I have spent time out of my life at my keyboard pouring out thoughts and just couldn't press that little orange button that says "Publish" on it. I don't know why, but I do know that it was a fear-based decision. A fear of what would you, the reader, think of me. A fear of rejection. A fear of ridicule. And for sure a fear of not being able to put my thoughts and emotion into words without sounding like a lunatic. (No promises on the last one by the time you are done reading this!)

Do you remember back in "the day" that freaking Jack-in-the-Box? Turning that crank over and over waiting for that sadistic clown to jump out? (Side note - who's idea was it to put a clown in there?? No wonder I hate clowns! Well those and Steven King!) Well, take out the devil jokesters and that is my life. Just waiting for it to POP.

I really never know when the feeling of guilt, pain, sadness and being overwhelmed is going to hit me. I don't know when my mood is going to change, when I want to isolate from people and conversations, when my emotions feel so overloaded that I just feel numb. It gets to a point, where I just don't want to feel anything. My thoughts go back to times and situations that I really don't want to visit. My mind is in control and my body follows quickly. 

It is a crazy merry-go-round. Once my mind is in control and I no longer have the ability to get off of the ride, my body starts in on the fun. Sleeplessness, anxiety, gastric issues, physical pain, headache and on and on. And once my body is in full swing, those issues pile right on top of the shit that started it all. 

I always feel like I have been hijacked when it happens. I don't have control and I am along for the ride no matter how hard I resist. I have to ride it out, see where it takes me, and hope it doesn't happen again any time soon. These rides can be short and with mild thoughts, long with very dark thoughts, short with very dark thoughts, long with mild thoughts... and all across the board. And again, I don't have control of it. 

That is one of the hardest things to say out loud, that I don't have control of it. I can't tell when it's going to happen and when it does I can't slow it down. I can mitigate it a little and sometimes, with medication, meditation and exercise, but that is just me and it doesn't always work! We are all different people. There is also the concept that we can "just stop it" when we feel it happening. If it were only that easy. 

What most don't know is that people with depression and PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder) are operating on a sort of "autopilot" and not always in control. PTSD and depression are exaggerated states of survival mode. We experience emotions that frighten and overwhelm us and believe it or not, we act out accordingly in defense of those feelings we cannot control. Those actions may not seem rational to you or society in general but please be patient with us. We most often cannot stop the anger, tears and other disruptive behaviors that are hard for you to endure.

The trauma we have endured has changed us and just like you, we want to believe that life can return to the way that it was and we can continue as who we were. Unfortunately, this isn't how it works. Trauma leave a large and deep-seated scar on the soul. I don't think it is possible to endure trauma and not experience a shift in our psyche.

There is also a misconception out there that PTSD is only suffered by war-torn Veterans. That's not true. It is caused by being in any traumatic experience; mental, physical or sexual abuse, car accidents, witnessing something tragic... there are a lot of situations that people deal with that change them.

We are not in denial, we are actually coping. It takes a lot of effort to live like this. Even if we don't or can't admit it, we know there is something wrong. When you approach us and we deny there's a problem, that is really code for "I'm doing the best I can". Taking the actions that you suggest would require too much energy, dividing focus form what is holding us together. Sometimes just getting up and doing our daily routine is the biggest step toward the recovery we make. We need a safe space where we can find support and alleviate our stress.

Contrary to the ways we might behave when you intervene, inside of us we know that you are not the source of the problem. Unfortunately, in the moment we could use your face as the image of PTSD, since we have trouble directly addressing our PTSD and depression issues sometimes it is easier to address you. As hard as it seems, continue to approach us. We need you. Your presence matters. PTSD and depression create a great sense of isolation. In our post-traumatic state, it makes a difference to know that there are people who will stand by us. It matters that although we may lash our, don't respond and aren't ourselves, that you are still there, no matter what. Please don't give up, we are doing our best.

There are words and phrases that make me wince when I hear them. One of the questions I get asked a lot is "What triggered this depression?" Guess what? I don't know. Could be something obvious, could be absolutely nothing. Please don't get upset if our answers are not what you are looking for.

I don't like who I am in regards to this part of my life. I don't like knowing that this is a part of who I am. I don't like the dark rides and very dark thoughts. I don't like seeing those people who love me feel helpless or hurt because my words don't make sense to them and actions are worse. I don't like the feeling in my gut that this could be the cause of my death one day. 

I want to like being in crowds again. I want to be able to sit in a restaurant and feel comfortable with people sitting behind me. I want to laugh and joke when somebody comes up from behind me and touches my neck or shoulders by surprise. I want to have dreams that I want to remember. I want to react to loud booms and bangs with wonder and not terror. I want to be normal. 

Here is what I have learned through this journey though... "Fuck Normal". I have friends and family who don't understand me (and might never) and I have those that do. I have days that I can look in the mirror and forgive myself for all the bad shit I have done in my life and there are days that I literally do not look in the mirror because of who I will see. It's just part of my life. Part of my journey. Part of my story that I get to tell. Even as messed up as all of this is, I want to be a example to my kids and grandkids and not a warning. 

If you need are having thoughts of hurting yourself or others please call the National Suicide Hotline at 800-273-8255 or if you are a Veteran and want to speak to somebody who knows specifically what you are going through call the VA Crisis Line at the same number, 800-273-8255 and PRESS 1.

Violent Protests Furthers Their Cause, Not Yours

A day of non-violent protests erupted overnight in St. Paul when demonstrators pelted police with rocks, concrete, fireworks and more.  Twenty one officers were injured and 102 protestors arrested.

This doesn't help anyone.  No one's memory is honored by this type of action.  No one's cause is furthered. 

Rashad Turner, described as a Black Lives Matter leader in St. Paul spoke out against the violence in the Sunday edition of the St. Paul Pioneer Press.

“We condemn all acts of violence,” Turner said. “We want to be disruptive, but at no time is it OK to hurt other people.”

Disruptive they were, shutting down I-94 for several hours overnight.

Understandably they received attention.  None of it positive or productive.

Col. Matt Langer, State Patrol chief told the paper, “Our longstanding message has been that there are many places that people can gather and protest and demonstrate and exercise their First Amendment rights, but the freeway is not one of those places,”

In Minnesota it is illegal to be on an interstate highway on foot.

Governor Mark Dayton, who shocked everyone the day after the shooting by admitting that the shooting most likely would not have happened if the driver were white, condemned the violence and the shutting down of a major highway.

In statement he said:

“The occupation and shutting down of Interstate 94 last night were unlawful and extremely dangerous. Twenty-one law enforcement officers were injured by rocks and other projectiles thrown at them by some of the protesters. 

 

“I am deeply grateful for the heroic efforts of those men and women, who put themselves in harm’s way last night to protect the safety of all Minnesotans. I thank them for their professionalism and persistent attempts to resolve the situation peacefully. 

 

“I also thank the leaders, who were doing their utmost to stop this very dangerous escalation. Until then, the protests of the last few days have been lawful and peaceful. I thank everyone, who has shown restraint and tolerance. 

 

“Again, I urge all Minnesotans to remain calm and peaceful during this very difficult time. I urge everyone exercising their First Amendment rights to do so lawfully and without endangering themselves or others."

The violence has no place in protests.  The only agenda it furthers is that of those who feel that BLM should just stand for Bureau of Land Management; that this proves their point that the protestors are really just thugs; that we all are just jumping to conclusions; that Castile wasn't as innocent as what appears.  Hell, he has a HUGE criminal record after all (though all I could find is that he appears to be guilty of is DWB - Driving While Black). Rock throwing and attacks on law enforcement furthers their agenda - not the legitimate protestors' agenda.

The problem that is developing with the violence is the "us" versus "them" mentality; that if you support the police you must hate black people and if you support the Black Lives Matter movement that you necessarily hate the police.  Neither is true nor is it mutually exclusive to understand that there are legitimate issues facing people of color in the United States and that the police have a very difficult job and make split second decisions every day - 99% of which are correct.  More talking, uniting and understanding are necessary, not name calling, division and violence.