You might find yourself thinking, "doesn't he mean feeling a little blue?" But sadly, no I mean green. Of course one person might say mustard, yet another black, but it's all green to me. Green Algea.
 It used to be I'd open the pool on Memorial Day spend 4 days and $300 dollars to get a pool that would be crystal clear for exactly 17 days. Then slowly the crytal clear water at Chateau Healy would begin to change slightly. First, a little cloudy, then a little darker, finishing off with a beautiful green hue right off your favorite paint chart (I'd say the green rivaled my grass color, but by mid-June the grass is a lovely shade of brown). I'd fight the Algea with hundreds of dollars more worth of chemicals and might even consider vacumming the pool. But alas, August would arrive (aka Fall in Buffalo), it would rain for the month, and Labor Day was spent with me covering the pool and saying, "I'll fix it in the spring."
 So, this Memorial Day weekend I took a new tact, I aggressively opened the pool. What this means is I asked the 16 year old kid at the pool store for advice. After I translated his blank stare to mean "buy more chemicals," I did just that. Then I went home and poured them all in. Once the toxic cloud cleared and the Haz-Mat folks had left, I looked in the pool to discover a grey haze. Now granted grey haze is better than green pond water, but it's not clear. So at this point I'm not sure I interperted the kid's blank stare correctly.
 But, here's the funny thing (as if my enitre life isn't one large joke), yesterday night there were five kids swimming in the grey haze and I'm pretty sure only two of them were mine. So what does this all say? "Only Polar Bear should swim in Buffalo?" No, it says kids will always make the best of it and maybe that's what we forget as adults. So what if the pool has a light green haze, it's cool and refreshing and it's where kids go during the summer. So next year instead of worrying about the green clud that's engulfed my pool, I will embrace my green side and spend all of that chemical money on googles. I wonder if the pool store kid knows what aisle the rose colered ones are in?

 So I was thinking about growing up and the simpler times we once lived in, then I realized this made me sound old. But, considering I grew up in the 80's I guess I am old, but don't tell my wife that. Though she is only one year younger and we were married in the mid-90's, she claims to remember nothing from the 80's (much like hippies trying to recall the 60's). It was simpler time, maybe because we were younger, but mostly because there was less..less technology, less stress, less to worry about. So, let's harken back and remember some of the "real" good things from the 80's.

Answering the phone
 My wife lost it a couple of weeks ago. She was tired and anxiously awaiting the kids going to bed. The phone rang and she picked it up, staring at the little screen. Finally, after the third ring, she answered the phone, told whatever social organization that she had given at the office, then hung up. She then looked at me and said, "The caller ID isn't working." I of course knew this, becasue I had cancelled it earlier in the day. I had saved our family $120 a year, but my wife is still aggravated about almot a month later. The upside is now whenever the phone rings I can say, "I wonder who that is," and not really know.
 I remember growing up if I wanted to talk to someone I called thier house. If they were home, they'd answer, if not you'd try back later. Then came the answering machine and the art of screening, followed by the ultimate screen, caller ID. Growing up you had two choiced when the phone rang; answer it, or not and wonder all day who had called. Seems like a foreign concept in the days of cell phones, text messaging, and instant availability, but it was a simpler time.

Cassette tapes
 This one may sound weird because anyone that is my age remembers their favorite tape being eaten by their walkman as soon as the batteries got low. But, I still miss tapes, mostly becasue of the cases. Granted it wasn't a size thing, I can put a 1,000 songs on my Ipod and dance around for days, but have you ever tried scraping ice off your window with a CD case? They are called "jewel" cases for a reason; fragile and easily broken.
 Even though I've lived in Buffalo all my life, it seems I never have an ice scraper when I need one. Early in winter, there isn't one in the car, becasue you don't expect the snow (yes I said Buffalo). Late in winter the ice scraper is always broken, usually by a foot in the passenger seat two days after it was purchased. But, as a kid, you could always grab a tape case and make a nice hole in the windshield to peer through until the defroster finally kicked in. Even though I've gotten older, the ice scraper rules seem to still hold true. There seems to be many a morning I wish for the "Slippery When Wet" cassette case.

Public transportation
 When I was growing up, my mother didn't have a license and my buddy's mother didn't drive. That meant we had two choices to get somewhere: bike or bus. During the summer bike would usually suffice, but during the winter bus was the only viable option (someday they'll invent snowtires for bikes). We could get anywhere in Erie County with a token and a bus schedule. We knew the connections, how to transfer, and we never worried about safety.  My girls have never been on a bus, unless you count Walt Disney Transportation, which I don't think you can. A lot of who I am now is because I had to be independent and able to take the bus. Taking the bus also made me want to strive for more in life, like having my own car. It may sound weird to you (and if your reading this, that's saying a lot), but the bus really shaped my life. That being said, I wouldn't let my family take the bus in Buffalo. Things have gotten rougher, and dirtier throughout the city. Plus the buses don't run as often as they used to. But, the fact is something that was such an important part of my life, my kids will never experience, it's a little sad...or it's a testament to how well the bus raised me.

 I lost a good friend yesterday. It was one of my blue pair of Fruit of the Loom boxer breifs. I had gotten him for Christmas in 2004, but he just unable to carry on any longer. The small hole that had started a year ago had become so large I accidentally put my leg into it. Had I not been getting dressed in the dark (can't wake the whole house up), the unfortunate incident might not have happened (I also might not have worn a black shirt with blue pants which made me look like a giant bruise for the entire day).
 My wife started a tradition several years back. While most people get candy and fun items in their Christmas stocking, I get one pack of underwear and socks every year. Now my wife assumes I'll quickly purge three old pair to be replaced by the new pairs, but my underwear and I have been together since high school. We've had some good times and I can't just send my friends off to the trash dump like yesterday's dinner. The reason I hold on to any underwear that's wearable is idemonsrated by what happened this year. This year, my wife changed up my Christmas stocking and decided on socks and T-shirts, instead of the customary underwear. Appaearantly my gangster-like T-shirts were mostly see through, but that's for another day.
 Unfortunately the loss of my friend Blue #4 XL (yes he had 3 twin brothers) was not the first this year. Tragically, he was the fourth pair to die and were only in January. That coupled with the lack of Christmas underwear sent a glaring signal (no, not that I'm too fat!); I have to go to the store and buy some underwear.
 It's funny to me that a women sees a small hole in anything and her first instinct is throw it out. A man sees a hole and he has several possible thoughts depending on the size of the hole. If the hole is small, a man thinks "no one will notice." If it's a medium-size hole he thinks "maybe my wife can mend it." With a large hole every man has only one thought, "Where's the duct tape?"
 The average woman loves to go shopping. A hole in something is a reason to get something new. A woman can walk through the mall to look and browse and come home with 4 shopping bags of "bargins." A man has to have a purpose to go to any mall or shopping center. So for me, I now have to head over to my local Target get into the Men's section, grab the first pack of underwear I see, then get out. I may stop in the golf aisle, but that's not shopping, that's another step towards making the tour.
 So as I depart let me remember my friend that served his purpose so well. Blue #4 XL you were a loyal pair of underwear and you will be missed...hey look the new pack has teal #1 2-XL, what a great day.

...or are the towels getting weaker? This is what I was left to ponder as I was stepping out of the shower just the other day. I was in the process of drying off my enourmously large body(dwarfed only in size by Antarctica) and still needed to get my back. As I slung the towel over my shoulders and began to pull from side to side, I heard the distinctive "rrrriiipppppp" and knew another bath towel had met it's maker (JC Penny in this case). Unfortunately for me, my wife who was in another area code at the time also heard the sound. And even though she had to journey over mountains and across rivers she was there in less than 4 seconds screaming, "Do you know how much those things cost?" I assumed she was referring to the towel, because she did not know about the river or mountain comment (she does now.)
 There were so many ways I could answer that obvious opening volley that was sure to be followed by cannon blasts of "Do you think we're made of money," or my favorite, "Just air dry, save the towels for those that know how to use them." I was crafting a snappy comeback to the cost line, something like "about 400 times less than your last Coach purse." But all I could get out was "Four Dollars?" Guys, if your are being berated about the cost of something-never guess low. Go high, at least then you'll be dismissed with a simple, "that's right, be more careful.' But, going low opens you up to hours of playing the "Price is Right" and trust me the yoddler falls off the hill everytime.
 So, as I stood there naked and cold being reinstructed by some demon form of Bob Barker that strangely resembled my wife, I was left to ponder the question, "Am I getting stronger or are the towels getting weaker?" This age old question had so many interesting avenues to explore. There was the size question of course. Yes I had put on a few pounds and maybe the towel didn't make it all the way around like it used to. There was also the fact this towel was purchased in 2005 and had almost 5 years of service. At $5 a towel (I wasn't off by much) that was less than a dollar a year, a pretty good investment I thought.
 The answer I settled on though was poor quality control in the Turkish textile industry. Yes, this towel was not made in the US and therefore it had not stood up to my wife's exacting standards of lasting forever. Alas, I would have to call Penny's and complain about their poor textile quality which would result in some person in a Turkish sweatshop recieving 5 lashes. I can only hope it is done with one of their towels. Okay-maybe I won't call the store.
 As I emerged from my "Scrubs-like" trance, I realized my wife was now muttering under her breath and had left the bathroom. And though I stood there with water still dripping off my back, I realized two important facts: the towel that was now ripped in half could be used by the kids so I now had 2-for-1 towel. I also realized I really am getting stronger, who would've known?

 The big story in Buffalo today is about the group of Bills fans buying a billboard to let Ralph Wilson know who they would like to be our new coach. Though this effort seems noble, I wonder if these fans realize Ralph lives in Detroit? The odds of him seeing a sign on the 190 is about the same as the Bills actually hiring that coach...slim at best. But, this made me think if I could afford to put up random billboards what would I say? These are my billboards
Politicians Suck  Well of course they do, you'd say, but let's be honest anyone in Western New York will be honking for this one. Enough said.
God Doesn't Care About Football  This one seems obvious, but as I write this, I hear the soundbite of an injured quarterback telling me how God takes care of him. I'm all for believing in a higher power, but if God cared about football wouldn't he have prevented you from getting injured? Of course there is the another option...God had money on the other team.
If You Don't Like IT Change IT  This ones for me as much as anyone. I complain about taxes and politics all the time, yet the most I action I take is a call to Tom Bauerle on Christmas Eve (did anyone under 60 hear my awesome call?). Everyone needs to be reminded of this. So many things in life are within our control to change. If something makes you unhappy, stop doing it. Take control of your life, you'll be better off in the long run.
It's Not the Snow, It's the Cold  This is for those people that live in the desert and tell me how a 110 degree day is fine as long as there's no humidity. Well, snow is great as long as the wind chill is above 20. Ha-ha, take that Las Vegas.
I'm Funny, so Send me Money Now I just sit back and wait for the checks to start rolling in...

 Another New Year has come and gone and so has the memory of 2009's forgotten resolutions. Some of those included: getting rich (quickly of course), ending hunger (my own), and of course saving the world (SuperDan, has a nice ring to it). Granted those resolutions mostly failed, so I figured I needed to be a little more realistic this year. With that in mind, I give you Dan's 2010 New Year's resolutions.
 Like all fat people that can't get on the Biggest Loser, I resolve to lose weight this year. I plan to do it the old fashioned way; eat less, exercise more, unless of course they invent a skinny pill, then I will eat more pills. I will walk this year. Instead of watching whatever channel is on when I lose the remote, I will get up and change the channel manually (I think I know how to do that). I will be in shape, even though my current round fits that bill, I'm hoping for a better geometric design, pear maybe?
 This year I reolve to be a better member of my family. Instead of working that second job as general manager/coach of the Playstation Sabres, I will be more involved with my family. Whether it's reading a book with the girls at night or just pretending to listen to my wife's work woes (who knew accounting was so boring...ok everyone does) I will be a better husband, father, mother, daughter...you get the point.
 Also this year, I Dan Healy being of sound mind and...oops wrong speech. This year I resolve to listen more and not just to myself. I will listen to both the left and the right, and also the front and the back. Even though I may not always agree I do need to listen first, who knows what I may hear.
 Also this year I resolve to be funnier. How does a person go about this you may ask? Well first of all, I will write more jokes and work on that stand-up routine that's been sitting around for the past couple for years. I will also make these little musings much more Joel Stein-like, which will either leave you laughing in the aisles or want to get your own copy of Time to read Joel Stein. Based on my current laughter while writing this, I have already completed this resolution...check.
 Finally this year, I resolve to write more. I've always believed there's a writer trapped somewhere inside of me just yearning to eascape and go live with Stephen King. Though I wrote a lot this year, I want to do more, just not now. Welcome to 2010.

 I guess this is the time of year to look back an evaluate the past year. Just look at all of the Top 10 this and worst that lists out there. It should be no surprise we spend so much of our time focusing on what could have been instead of what was.
 If you don't believe me about focusing on regrets, then answer this one question; Are you going to make a New Year's Resolution in a few short days? If so, your focusing on a regret. Think about what a New Year's resolution is; "I wish I was thinner," I wish I didn't smoke," or the famous "I wish I treated someone better." Granted these are noble things we promise to accomplish every January 1st, but is it any wonder they are left along the roadside by March every year. It's becasue we're focusing on regrests instead of the positives.
 Trust me I'm not the most positive person in the world, but I've learned to enjoy what I have. My wife and I have a standing joke every month, we over spend then I say to her, "I'm not worried, I know you'll figure it out." We live in the now and we figure it out later. We pay the bills and we don't lament what we should have done, we enjoy what we did.
 I know it's easier to focus on the regrets sometimes, becasue they can become your scapegoat. "If only I had done this," or the famous,"If only that had worked out." But, no matter who you are there has to be a positive out there for you to build on. Some good thing becomes the conerstone for something better.
 I often think of the Robert Frost poem, "The Road not Taken." The last lines are prophetic, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." All the difference in my mind is a good thing. Looking ahead not behind and always thinking about the road your on, not the fork you passed.
 So, as New Year's approaches and your thinking of that resolution, let it be a simple resolution, "focus on the good things in life." Oops, I've go to go, my glass of champagne is only half-full. Happy New Year!

 This was my thought the other day as I was precariously perched on my 6-foot stepladder trying to assemble my third Christmas tree. (A thought for another day, but why do they put a step on top if your not supposed to step on it?) Yes I said third Christmas Tree! Now your first thought may be "tree killer," and your second may be "rich corporate mogul," but neither is the case (of course if Merrill Lynch is hiring I'm listening). The trees each have their own meaning that's special to us.
 Tree number one is the Family Room tree. That tree is a thin artificial tree that fits nicely in the corner. I like to call this tree the Department Store Tree (ironic becasue it was purchased at Macy's). My wife bought special ornaments and color coordinated the tree to resemble the high class trees you see at Lord and Taylor's and the Bon-Ton. Needless to say there is a four foot circle around this tree that I'm not allowed to enter. My wife loves this tree and would sell me before parting with it.
 Tree number two is the newest addition, yet another fake tree. This is the tree that was purchased for the morning room (no we don't have an evening room also) so someone in the backyard could see we have a Christmas tree. This is the tree I convinced Traci had to be at least 9-feet tall. Turns out, it only needed to be 8.5 feet. Maybe no one will notice the angel is hanging upside down. It's a country tree and reminds me instantly of Christmas as a kid.
 Tree number three is my favorite tree. This is the "family tree," the tree we pick out together every year. On the first Sunday of December we bundle up the kids and head out to one of the many local nurseries. We walk around, drink the free hot cocoa, then head to Home Depot to get our tree. We walk into the corral, ask for the cheapest tree and my wife complains the whole time she's cold. We then tie our cherished tree on top of the car, it falls off on the way home, and we tie it on again (after retrieving it from the ditch by the road). This is the true family experience.
 Once we get home, we drag pine needles throughout the house and set the tree up. It always leans to the right, but that's the joy of the family tree. Every year the kids fight over who gets to put "Santa with the beat down stick" (holdover from our 2-room apartment days) on top of the tree. We add lights and the ornaments, all of which have a special meaning. This is the tree I look at each night and think about the story each ornament holds. I find something new everyday and it is my favorite Christmas tree.
 So maybe three trees isn't too many. Maybe it's just the right amount. I'll decide later, but right now I have to go assemble the new bedroom tree...

 When I first tripped and almost fell on the toys in the shower, I thought the kids had been careless. Then there was that laundry basket left at the bottom of the dark stairs for me. I thought, "she just wants to make sure I carry it up." Then there was the smoke detector she "accidentally" pulled off the ceiling. I only got shocked twice trying to put that back up. But today, everything became clear; my wife wants me dead.
 My wife is a beautiful, caring woman that goes out of her way to make me lunch everyday. Today, I sat down at my desk, to enjoy my nice homemade soup and sandwich and took a look at the soup container. I had just microwaved a Cool-Whip container (yup no generics in this house) and the sides were mysteriously bowing in. Upon further review, buried deep under the ingredients, I found these words, "Package not intended for microwave use." (Insert a meek uh-oh escaping my throat.) I think I already feel my throat constricting.
 It was at this point I began to put everything together. My kids and I were all having soup for lunch. Daughter one had it pre-warmed and placed in her Barbie thermos. Daughter two had a Gladware container (motto, it costs more than Tupperware and lasts not nearly as long). That container was of course microwave-safe. Then there was my soup in the aforementioned container. My wife went out of her way to remind me to make sure I grabbed the "right-lunch" (she actually likes the kids). I'm sure the "right" lunch had nothing to do with the fact that I eat three times the amount of food of any normal human at lunch. It had everything to do with the plastic poisoning plan she had secretly devised.
 Now granted maybe my wife's upset about the fact I never bring containers home or the fact I really don't help to make lunches. I guess her anger might be slightly justified, but does it deserve poisoning? I guess I'll just have to start making my own lunch...or I could do the smart thing and just assume the package warning is a scare tactic. Besides, how bad can a little white plastic be for me anyways? Won't the plastic just settle in with all that gum I swallowed as a kid?

 So my wife is home on maternity leave and bored, what does she turn to? Facebook. How long does it entertain her? Exactly one week. That's how long it took for my wife to figure out there's two kinds of people using Facebook.
 My wife fell into the first group of user who we'll call the "high School Reunioners." These people have some free time and join Facebook looking for old firends. They want to see what happened to someone, or where they are now. The reunioners are truly using the Internet for what it was intended. They are redicovering on old friend, romantic flame, or even tormenting an old enemy (who knows maybe time does heal all wounds). They're also making sure the Prom King and Queen got old and fat, just like the rest of us.
 What my wife soon found out though, is that there's a second type of person on Facebook, "the career-user." This is the person that is currently living in their parents basement in between shifts at the Game Zone. These are the people that instantly respond to comments, no matter the time of day. These are the people that make posting on social networking sites their job. They tweet us with such mundalities as "taking a shower" and "thinking about cereal for breakfast." I don't eat breakfast, so why do I care if your thinking about cream of wheat? These are the people that take the fun out of the site for everyone else.
 I remember before my 10-year high school reunion, some people set up an e-mail chain to notify everyone of upcoming events. What happened was a few people began using the chain as their own personal stand-up routine. This of course reminded everyone why they were so happy to exit high school in the first place. Eventually the e-mails were blocked by most of the list (Deep thought: if an e-mail is blocked by an enitre distribution, is it still sent?) Now these people have their own place and it's called Facebook.
 It took one week for my wife to discover the career-users, and she's become bored with the site. I guess now "pokes" will go unnoticed and her "wall" may begin to crumble as she fails to check in every day. But, there is good news, she just found about some other site, has anyone ever heard of "MySpace?"