Hottie

The Obama came to town, primarily to celebrate the entrepreneurialship of some guy in the east side. The company apparently makes whatever you want them to, but their big claim to fame is the manufacture of salad bars. OK, but didn't that kinda go out of style in the 80's?

Being The Obama, he decides to stop on the way in to have some lunch.

OK....Let's see....Buffalo and ribs? No. That's not it.

Buffalo and fried chicken? No. But, it's close.

I know. Buffalo and chicken wings.

So, where does he stop? The "Anchor Bar", like every other tourist? No, better go to the place that won the last "Best Wings in Buffalo" contest. Duffs.

He (and the entire entourage) pull in and order a single medium, crispy.

OK. No challenge there. Best not get them too hot, otherwise you'll look like a fool for not getting a pitcher of beer to go with them. Up runs a lady, and before anyone can stop her, she says The Obama is a "hottie".

Oops.

Everyone in the world who has access to Youtube now knows about this women and her opinion of The Obama. I think it's kinda cute. Obviously, my opinion isn't shared by everyone, including quite a few locals who decided to write in to the News.

Well, folks. I got news for y'all. This is Buffalo. It ain't some foreign capital. It's not some town where the unemployment rate is less than 4%. We all don't live in $1M homes. This, my friends, is the "City of Good Neighbors", the "Queen City", the home of the Buffalo Bills and Buffalo Sabres. We say things from the heart. We live and die from the heart. We give when it counts, and then we give some more. If you have a flat, this is the place you want to be stranded by the side of the road. 'Cause that's the way we roll.

So, don't chastise someone for getting all excited about seeing The Obama in person at Duffs. He's the one that stopped there. What did you want the lady to do instead? Just stand there and pee her pants. She wore her heart on her sleeve, just like the rest of us do.

Hell, if he'd have stopped at "Arty's", nobody would have given up their stool for him. To be sure, they would've bought him a beer or two. But, he would have had to buy a couple rounds himself. Otherwise, people would've talked.

What did you just say?

Talk about ease of use....
Just go to this site and see what everyone else is saying.....


http://youropenbook.org/

fruitful

nothing is simple
or so it now seems
care to be taken
by each in its time

cross over and back

guess once, but not twice

refute with temptation

laugh with both hands

see always ahead
look back to make sure
do kiss with desire
cry, once in a while

breathe

sleep well

don't stay cold for long

there'll be enough time

Railroad Express Terminal - Is quickly returning to the place from once it sprang. Around 90 years ago, rail service was the end to the means. Cartage, waterways, and shipping had controlled the movement of goods for most of history. Countries and governments lived and died by their ability to control seaway commerce; Carthage, Greece, Venice, Portugal, France, Great Britain. Wars were fought over the trade of raw materials and finished goods. Even American freedom was borne in retaliation for what was deemed unfair trading practice.
The "Iron Horse" replaced "good ol' Sal" in a way that no one could have foreseen. Travel to reach frontier outposts that originally took months was now completed in days; months reduce to days, and days reduced to hours.
Everything was being moved by rail; people, money, raw material, mail, and finished goods. No longer would purchases through the mail-order catalogs need to be made out-of-season. Christmas gifts didn't need to be ordered in July. And the quality of goods improved with manufacturing centers and their economies of scale.
And while Buffalo may have had 14 different railroad lines servicing the area, and each with its own station, a majority of goods still moved through the larger depots and terminals. This one, the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad Express Terminal, was one of the largest. During its "hay-day", movement of wagons and trucks was continuous, 24 hours a day. Measuring nearly one-quarter mile in length, it appears that it serviced no less than 4 different railroad spurs.

Now, it sits idle, awaiting its final collapse. No longer able to fight the elements, lacking a roof, walls, windows and solid foundation, pieces fall away daily. Columns slide apart under the water-weight. Roof panels disintegrate from lack of care. Cantilevered overhangs, that once protected dock men and teamsters, have long since surrendered to the inevitable rot and decay.

Except for this section. New life is supporting what was once hundreds of feet of awning. Here are 3 sections that have not given in.
Oh, to be that tree and hold on to the past as well.

Śmigły Wilno

or in it's full name......Wojskowy Klub Sportowy "Śmigły" Wilno.

One year, for Christmas, I purchased a soccer ball for my dad. I don't remember why I did. I just did. I thought it was something he might enjoy. Growing up, my dad never showed any natural athletic sport abilities. He didn't throw a football very well. And forget about trying to teach him how to toss a Frisbee. Horseshoes and Jarts were OK, but not too many kids play catch with their dads with Jarts. The thing was, he couldn't get the throwing motion down; like his rotator cuff didn't rotate.
(There was a trick us kids used to use to show off our coordination skills. You bend your arm up at the elbow until your hand is touching your shoulder. Then, rotate your hand so it is palm up on your shoulder. Then, while keeping you hand on your shoulder, raise your forearm up so that it is parallel to the ground. Then take a stack of quarters and place them as close to your elbow as you can. Without letting them fall, swing your hand quickly forward and catch the pile of quarters.........My dad could not rotate his hand the right way, thereby NEVER being able to catch the quarters.
But, he could play the hand slap game very well........I digress........)
So one sunny day, with my sister's kids in tow, my mom and dad decide it'd neat to have a picnic. Growing up, these would typically mean getting out the old galvanized Thermos cooler, making noodles salad and maybe some fried chicken, a watermelon, throw in a couple beers for dad and a jug of lemonade for us kids, and we'd travel to exotic places like Dufferin's Island or Ellicott Creek. This time, however, the trip was just down the street to Sheridan Park.
We nestled into a shelter, fired up some charcoal in one of those mandatory stationary grills, and headed out to the hill. I ran to the car and got out some toys for the grandchildren and even that soccer ball I decide to include.
Getting close to the group, I kicked the ball towards my dad. In an instance, it was like someone had flipped a switch. He suddenly turned into "Soccerman", with incredible skills and abilities!
With grandkids laughing and screaming with joy, he was able to dribble, pivot, and pass the ball without even watching his feet. He was constantly trying to keep a straight face, but I could see he was having the time of his life. When he took off his shirt and got down to his undershirt, I knew he was getting down to business. At one point, during our spontaneous game of "keep away", he passed the ball to me and I quickly returned it.
Then, to everyone's amazement, he started dribbling the ball over his shoulder. Yes, from a toe kick, over his shoulder, and then with the same foot flexed fully behind him, kicking back over his shoulder onto his toe. He did this without watching the behind-the-back contact, not once, but twice more. Then laughing, punted it out into the field for the grandkids to chase.
He was slightly out of breath at this point, but when I asked him where he learned to kick like that, he just said, "You baseball play. I soccer." And, he walked away.
I can only imagine that "his team" was very likely one that played close to the farm. Knowing that he always said his family lived near Wilno, I can just imagine him watching "Śmigły" Wilno. Who knows.....he might have even been on the team.......