This day has been filled with memories. This morning I was searching the web and wound up on a site that was talking about Buffalo and its lack of revitalization on the East Side. There were pictures of buildings that I recognized and streets were mentioned that I haven’t driven down in years. From the gist of what was being talked about, I gathered that someone is trying to build up those neighborhoods, but just because you build it, doesn’t mean people will come. It’s a catch-22. If you put nice, new homes in a neighborhood, the area will clean itself up and nice, new business will follow. Or is it vice versa? Well, this is not for me to ponder because I don’t live there anymore, but I thought I would mention it as something to think about.
Then my father and his email and the nostalgia he brought up about his old boat. I remember being on that boat, as he said, swimming off the stern, bucket wars in the hot August sun and as I got older, the moonlight sails to Point Abino the weekend of the Queen City Regatta and Mayor’s Cup. I remember duct tape sheets and having a race called due to lack of wind while we were 50 yards from the finish – way ahead of our nearest competition. I keep close in my mind leaning against the mast as we motored out of the channel to get ready for our Wednesday night races and preparing myself for the job ahead; setting the bag, setting the pole, jibing the chute, getting my 175 lb. frame off the bow as quickly as possible because it slows us down. I also remember being face down on the bow while setting the bag in 10 foot waves and every time we came out of a swell, a wave would crash on top of me; the whole time I’m thinking, ‘one hand for the boat, one hand for yourself’, but loving every damned minute of it. I too will miss the Getaway, but I haven’t been on her since ’99, so she doesn’t hold any recent memories for me. Dad offered her to me, but I have neither the time nor the money to take her off his hands; but oh, how I would love one more sail.
I always defend Buffalo when people criticize it, whether it’s because of the snowstorms or its sports teams, Buffalo is a very special place - home. I am often asked if I would ever return and my answer has always been the same since the day I left in ’99, “If the financial situation was better and other situations could work out, I would move back in a heartbeat." I don’t mind the snow; it’s better than running from a hurricane! I love the summers. 85 degrees and sunny almost every day is hard to beat and it’s certainly better than 105 and humid. The south doesn’t even know what fall foliage is and the area surrounding Buffalo is second to none when it comes to that. I love the architecture downtown and my dad does such a great job telling different stories about how this building was such and such and now it’s just a piece of history. Buffalo was a big part of the industrial revolution and has a huge part in American history around the turn of the 19th Century. I grew up a stone’s throw from the Erie Canal and learned about its rich history while in school. It’s close enough to Toronto to make a day trip up there and be in a world-renowned city that has a culture like no other. It’s close enough to the middle of nowhere to get lost in the country for a day and still make it home for a late dinner. You can get anywhere you need to be in 20 minutes. It’s a piece of my heart that just doesn’t die. It doesn’t matter how many times people put it down or I hear about all the economic disasters happening, I will always think of Buffalo as my home.
Then my father and his email and the nostalgia he brought up about his old boat. I remember being on that boat, as he said, swimming off the stern, bucket wars in the hot August sun and as I got older, the moonlight sails to Point Abino the weekend of the Queen City Regatta and Mayor’s Cup. I remember duct tape sheets and having a race called due to lack of wind while we were 50 yards from the finish – way ahead of our nearest competition. I keep close in my mind leaning against the mast as we motored out of the channel to get ready for our Wednesday night races and preparing myself for the job ahead; setting the bag, setting the pole, jibing the chute, getting my 175 lb. frame off the bow as quickly as possible because it slows us down. I also remember being face down on the bow while setting the bag in 10 foot waves and every time we came out of a swell, a wave would crash on top of me; the whole time I’m thinking, ‘one hand for the boat, one hand for yourself’, but loving every damned minute of it. I too will miss the Getaway, but I haven’t been on her since ’99, so she doesn’t hold any recent memories for me. Dad offered her to me, but I have neither the time nor the money to take her off his hands; but oh, how I would love one more sail.
I always defend Buffalo when people criticize it, whether it’s because of the snowstorms or its sports teams, Buffalo is a very special place - home. I am often asked if I would ever return and my answer has always been the same since the day I left in ’99, “If the financial situation was better and other situations could work out, I would move back in a heartbeat." I don’t mind the snow; it’s better than running from a hurricane! I love the summers. 85 degrees and sunny almost every day is hard to beat and it’s certainly better than 105 and humid. The south doesn’t even know what fall foliage is and the area surrounding Buffalo is second to none when it comes to that. I love the architecture downtown and my dad does such a great job telling different stories about how this building was such and such and now it’s just a piece of history. Buffalo was a big part of the industrial revolution and has a huge part in American history around the turn of the 19th Century. I grew up a stone’s throw from the Erie Canal and learned about its rich history while in school. It’s close enough to Toronto to make a day trip up there and be in a world-renowned city that has a culture like no other. It’s close enough to the middle of nowhere to get lost in the country for a day and still make it home for a late dinner. You can get anywhere you need to be in 20 minutes. It’s a piece of my heart that just doesn’t die. It doesn’t matter how many times people put it down or I hear about all the economic disasters happening, I will always think of Buffalo as my home.
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