J.J. Goodman: Writings, Musings and More

Caught in the carnival A Dervish unable to whirl Time driving to a standstill   The music is gone Melody long since moved on We've remained moments too long   Still I close my eyes Shutting out all of the lies As the world accepts what it decries   Yes we're all caught in the carnival Just players we are On a stage for others' delight   'twas once that I thought Perhaps if I'd wish I'd be able to run from this fright   Once more caught in the carnival The mind's engine has stalled Unable to topple the wall   The music we heard Now barely whispers a word 'tis into the silence we're lured   With closed eyes I'm not blind And with amazement I find A peace in what's left behind   Yes we're all caught in the carnival Or so I had thought Perhaps it's not we who are here   But rather we've wan

Having been born and raised in Western New York, I am a die-hard, life-long fan of both the Buffalo Bills and Buffalo Sabres. In my lifetime I have endured two events, the mere utterance of which sends us Buffalo fans into instant convulsion: Wide Right and No Goal. I've seen the Bills advance to four Super Bowls, and the Sabres advance to the Stanley Cup Finals and Conference Finals, only to fall short of the championship each time. Still, like an addict, I return every year to root on two teams, and a city, that very well may be cursed. Of course I know there's no such thing as curses, and the teams' fates boil down to management, coaching, personnel and play on the field or ice. But holy sweet bejeebus it would be nice if something good could befall one or both of these teams. Unfortunately, they can't seem to get out of their own ways. This year's teams are no stranger to that fact. Let's start with the Bills. A new coach, new direction, and ne

Open-mic night took on a whole new meaning at Basement Brewing Co. Of course, one doesn't normally associate open-mic night with an establishment that brews coffee, not beer. Nevertheless, loved for its variety of coffees and teas, its brick-adorned, basement ambiance, and its unique open-mic performances, Basement Brewing Co. had quickly become one of the hottest java spots in the South Wedge. For those old enough to remember, the place emitted a "Central Perk" vibe and one might expect Phoebe Buffay to take the stage in the corner at any moment. The nostalgia was lost on the ever increasing hipster crowd, however, that was beginning to flock to the BBC in droves. Forge hated hipsters. You'd think that with a name like Forge he'd fit right in, but such was hardly the case. Forge was in his early forties and had been named after his grandfather, whose parents, it seemed, were well ahead of their time in utilizing unique names for their children. No,

So, I've been doing a little thinking. (On a Monday??? Oh sweet cripes, this ought to be good….) I was thinking yesterday . Don't get your knickers in a twist. Actually, I was reflecting on my writing "career" if you will. I pondered how much I've written over the years, and the how's and why's of what I write. In some ways it's exhilarating. In others, frankly, it’s a little frightening. At times it can be downright depressing, knowing the inspiration that's led to some pretty dark writings. All in all, though, I wouldn't change a thing. Why am I telling you this? I don't know. Maybe because I have a deep seated longing for approval. Maybe it's that touch of narcissism all writers have. Maybe I just need to share these words as I have the millions, and yes they number in the millions of words I've already written. My writing is a part of me; it's part of my DNA, as much an identifier of who I am as is my hair

Sometimes all you need is a little Disney.   (*blink blink*)   What??   (Who are you and what have you done with Jim?)   Oh stop it now. And don't worry, I'm not getting all magical and sparkly and whatnot. I'm just saying that maybe, sometimes, yeah, a little Disney does go a long way.   (I'm going to need to sit down for this. And need some more coffee.)   Alright, sassypants, I'll explain. A dear friend of mine recently celebrated a milestone birthday and, in celebration, made arrangements for a large group of friends to stay at a Disney resort and wreak havoc on the parks for a few days. Of course, being the cynical, skeptical self that I am, I immediately questioned why we'd go to the land of enchantment… for children. With hordes of… children. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, but generally when I think vacation I think relaxation, not thousands of screaming, smelly, sticky children.   (You have