I've taken to learning a few instruments lately.
I started playing the guitar about 15 years ago, and I played it until was ready to move on. About four years ago I took up the banjo. A year later the mandolin. In the past two months, I've started learning the concertina, tin whistle and now, the Irish war pipes.
The concertina's not so bad, and I'm starting to learn how to play well enough to get by. I can squeeze out a few melodies, including "Scotland the brave." On the tin whistle I'm no pro, but I can fake a whole lot. I do a pretty good "Danny boy."
So I started thinking that maybe I'd try something a little more challenging and a lot more...well, challenging.
The bagpipes arrived last night...

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So here's a brief update on using the pipes:
I sat down for a few last night, and after looking up some pictures on how to hold and tune the bagpipes, I finally got them sounding pretty good. And I learned a song, even.
I don't think you can play the pipes without knowing "Scotland the brave," so that's where I started. And after a while, I really did okay.
The only unfortunate part of the whole thing was that after practicing for a little bit, I started getting some very strange sharp pains in various portions of my head. Could have been just a headache from too much soda, but I thought I'd burst a blood vessel...

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Honestly, I didn't think that I'd ever make it here.
Today is my birthday. My 31st. Ten years ago I would have told you I wouldn't have made 30. Last week I didn't think I'd make today.
There's no particular reason for that. I'm not ill. I have no terminal disease. I have, however, stopped counting on tomorrows.
So here I am. And for the 31st year in a row, folks are congratulating me for the simple fact that I didn't die last year.
I'm not feeling very cheery today, in case you can't tell.
Worse yet, I remember last year, and the idea that 30 was going to be a good year. It's a round number, you know? It's supposed to be a milestone year. It wasn't. For all intents and purposes, I'm the same person I was 12 months ago...

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I'd like to be among the first to thank Mayor Matt Driscoll for wasting taxpayer money fighting a project that he claims is a bad use of taxpayer money.
For all Driscoll's talk about fiscal responsibility, isn't it a tad odd that he'd spend so much of YOUR money fighting the Destiny USA project? And for what, really? He lost in court. On all counts.
Look, I've said it before and I'll say it again: Bob Congel is not trying to screw Syracuse. This is not a joke. If it were a joke, nearly $300 million spent would be a hell of a price to pay for a good laugh.

Why is it that at least one of you tries to kill me every morning on Route 690? Is there a target on my head or something? When you're out driving, watch where you're going. I'm in the blue Jeep...

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By this time they're already packing Coleman's. Tonight the drunken revelers will be out in full force. Tomorrow of course is the parade downtown. It's St. Patrick's Day -- the day when everyone claims to be Irish, even if it's just so a pretty lady will give them a kiss.
I've never been one to celebrate the day with barrels of green beer. I usually honor the day with some Irish rebel music and some corned beef.
The day is bittersweet for me. I'm proud that so many celebrate Irish roots in America, but disappointed that people use the Irish as an excuse to get blasted. Because when I think of Ireland, I think of my grandmother.
When I was in high school, my grandparents came to live with us...

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I love baseball. Anyone who has known me for 10 minutes -- or even if you've just seen me drive by -- could probably tell you that. I love the game because it's thoughtful, deliberate. It isn't constant action, but more a chess game punctuated by heroic feats and towering moonshots.
I like the game because it calls to mind symbols of America, like Babe Ruth and Joe DiMaggio. It calls to mind sunny summer days, hot dogs and peanuts.
Right now, however, I hate Barry Bonds.
It's obvious that Bonds is a cheater...

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