Archive for the ‘ Uncategorized ’ Category

Tarnished City on a Hill

What the f*** just happened? Whatever way you lean politically, I think we can safely agree that no one—no one—expected this. Even the most staunch Trump supporter didn’t expect him to actual…

Source: Tarnished City on a Hill


The Love Song of Sidney J. Stein, Opening Friday in NY

My play “The Love Song of Sidney J. Stein” will have its premier showing this Friday in NY and play through the weekend.  If you’re in the area, please come check it out!

The Fresh Fruit Festival presents Brian C. Petti’s The Love Song of Sidney J. Stein, a gay relationship play for the new millennium, at the The Wild Project, 195 East 3rd Street on the Lower East Side (bet. Aves. A & B, F train to Second Ave.) A former male prostitute tries to guide a troubled young streetwalker in this comedy/drama about trust, honesty, and second chances. Show times are: Friday, July 12th at 9pm, Saturday, July 13th at 4:30pm, Sunday, July 14th at 7pm. Tickets may be purchased for $18.00 online at Runtime approx. 80 minutes. 


Let Us Give (Ahem) Thanks


Thank you that when my wife Mary Ellen said to my son Conor, “Do you want me to snap and kill all of you?” it probably didn’t include me. Most likely. Hopefully.

Thank you for the 652 people who had the good taste and common sense to download my ebook when it was free last week. They got a few free laughs and I got to look at the pretty round numbers.

Thank you for letting me be born in a blue state. Although I hear people in red states are very friendly, the idea that after they’re so friendly they go home and try to research Barack Obama’s Islamic heritage just ruins it for me.

Thank you for making my children bright. Thanks a lot, really. Every time they argue with me about, oh, EVERYTHING from what they’re going to eat, to what they’re going to wear, to whether or not the damn moon revolves the damn Earth…I count this particular blessing. Sometimes while simultaneously counting to ten.

Thank you for NOT blessing my cat Shea with said brightness. Watching him equivocate over whether or not to leave the house on a rainy day while I breathlessly wait, holding the door, for his final answer like Regis Philbin in that game show fills me with unfathomable joy. And I’m pretty sure he eats his own feces.

Thank you for the ability to eat. I will never, ever take it for granted. If it is taken from me at some future date, at least we had Paris. And bacon.

Thank you for the following exchange between me and Mary El:

Mary El: I don’t know why they let fathers in to see the birth. Wouldn’t you rather be in the waiting room?

Me: I thought I was as calm as I could possibly be. I was there for you.

Mary El: Yeah, but…

Me: Look, wherever you are suffering, I’m gonna be there.

(brief pause)

Mary El: (deadpan) That is so true…

Thank you for my new play, The Love Song of Sidney J. Stein, running this July at the Fresh Fruit Festival in NYC July 12, 13 and 14. And thank you for allowing me to live with the shame of relentlessly promoting myself at every possible opportunity. Tickets available at!

Thank you for my fantasy baseball team. Although You, in your wisdom, saw fit to take my best player Troy Tulowitzki away from me for six weeks due to injury, I know You did this in order to test my coping abilities. You would think the seven surgeries and constant poverty would have covered it, but no! You had to go and smite a perfectly good power-hitting shortstop having the best year of his life. Blah, blah, blah, mysterious ways, blah, blah, blah, ours is not to reason why, blah, blah, blah…I was in first place, Youdammit!

Thank you for taking the scourge of my Hickman catheter (a permanent IV for nutrition) away from me. It had been about three years since I was able to take off a shirt without unclipping it from my collar. My chest is still sore, but it is indeed a small price to pay.

Thank you for summer vacation. Getting up and getting the kids ready for school is literally killing me. Plus they’re are SUCH pleasures in the morning! Just moaning, bitching, complaining bundles of unadulterated joy. I’m sure I will not be thanking anybody when they start bemoaning how bored they are, but at least I will be more rested.

Thank you for giving the Mets Matt Harvey, though they desperately don’t deserve him the way they hit when he pitches.

Thank you for allowing me to be well enough to help coach Mychal’s little league team this season. I missed it.

Thank you for Miguel, the kid who works at Wal-Mart and fixes cars on the side, who will provide the brakes that will keep our car from catapulting off the side of the mountain when we drive into town to pick up milk. And thank you for answering our hurriedly mumbled prayers that have somehow kept said catapulsion from occurring during the previous month’s forays down the mountain of imminent death.

On behalf of my family, thank you for the ability to not take ourselves too seriously, and to find humor in the most unlikely places. Laughter is our offense against ignorance and our defense against despair.

And if you’re taking requests, some good crowds for my show would be swell. And help Tulo’s ribs heal up, I need him in the lineup. And, you know, health for us all. Thanks.