Christmas Eve

I was lucky enough to watch the homeless, drunk version of santa claus (riding a bike, in december, in Buffalo) yell "pornstar" loud and repeatedly at the uncomfortable hipster walking across the street. It made all of the hassles and waiting in line worth it.

The last Leaf game I attended...

Every year, I end up with tickets to several Toronto Maple Leaf games in Buffalo. It's almost impossible to get tickets in Toronto, so a lot of Toronto fans come down to Buffalo and buy tickets from season ticket holders who can pay for a seasons worth of tickets by selling them to Leaf fans. It's hard to describe the annoyance of walking into HSBC arena (the clever name we have here in Buffalo for our arena), hearing chants of "Go Leafs Go". Oddly, it's the only chant you hear (being one of the original six teams does not lend itself to fan creativity, apparently). Of course, they're much louder than anything you and your friends can muster, and it sets the tone for a night of annoyance.

Security at these games is much more visible and omnipresent. If this were Europe, you'd expect a soccer like riot. Ridiculous, nationalistic arguments abound, with Buffalo natives reminding the Leaf fans that Canada, does in fact suck, and Toronto natives reminding Sabre fans that we've never won a stanley cup. Sometimes these digress into serious discussions of national policy (Canadians are pussies, Americans are gun toting red necks) and sometimes you form a bond with your northern counterpart. There's been a lot of losing in Toronto and Buffalo over the years. Either way, you leave feeling violated in some way.

Last year, around this time of year, was the last Leaf game I attended (I'm torturing myself tonight). Walking into the arena, I am instantly bombarded by "Go Leafs Go", and throngs of fans wearing blue hair and Leaf flags as capes (some sort of weird Canadian super hero, I suppose). I check my ticket with the ticket holder and walk into the lobby. Almost instantly, I am slammed into by a short, fat man wearing a Toronto hat. I apologize, and he responds with "fuck you, eh". Not one to be out done, I push him, and he responds that he is going to kill me (I find this a dubious threat, we are amongst 18,000 people), and I respond with "go fuck yourself". I paid too much money to get into the game to get kicked out three seconds in, so I walk away. As I walk to my seat, I quietly curse every season ticket holder that sells their tickets...

Zip's Wiseguys, 2:45am.

As I walk in the door to get two slices of cheese pizza, all I hear is screaming and yelling. This is a common occurrence at this particular pizzeria, so I don't think much of it. I realize, almost immediately, that it is the man working the register who is yelling, and he his yelling into his cellphone. "I'll kill you, nigga, punk bitch mutha fucka". This continues for a few moments. After he notices that I am standing at the counter, he says "hold on" into the phone. His tone changes, and he says, "Can I help you?" in a calm, polite voice. I ask for my two slices of cheese pizza, pay for them, and leave the pizzeria. As I am walking out, I hear the phone conversation resume. "I'll drive over there and kill you right now, mutha fucka......".

My current job.

I make my own schedule now, and the results have been interesting. No more eighty hour weeks and no more being on call twenty four hours a day, every day. Sometimes I work forty hours, sometimes I work twenty. It's opened up a world of opportunities school wise, and time for more creative ventures. So far, however, I've found myself staying up all night, arguing with teenagers over how much I think Nickelback sucks on youtube. It's not really what I envisioned for myself. I'll figure it out, but in the meantime, Nickelback does suck!

The Baptist Church

We used to play hockey in the parking lot of a Baptist Church, in South Buffalo. I couldn't tell you the actual name of the church, as I still only know it as the "baptist church". It was a natural place to meet up for games of hockey, as the parking lot is quite big, and someone (we thought it had to be a church member, but looking back I'm not so sure) painted hockey like markings on the blacktop. I say hockey like markings, because everything was crooked, and nothing lined up. Both of my brothers played there, as well as most of the neighborhood kids (for better or for worse, it was scary to be matched up against drug dealers who weren't afraid of flashing their weapons). I spent hours and hours there, crafting my trade and trying to impress the girls who would inevitably stop by. One of the last times I played there, my youngest brother (Scott) was playing goalie, and was stopping everything the other team threw at him. I was on Scott's team, and my younger brother (Chris) was on the other team. A kid from the neighborhood (Brian) took a shot that Scott stopped and trapped on the ground with his baseball glove (this was south buffalo, no fancy street hockey equipment there). Brian proceeded to hack and slash my brother, using every demeaning curse word used at the time (faggot and bitch come to mind). My brother Chris immediately dropped his stick, grabbed Brian by the throat and slammed him against the brick wall of the church (Brian was bigger than Chris). I did my part by threatening Brian's life with a variety of adjectives. Brian apologized to Scott, and we continued to play the game. My friend Paul, who was hanging out with us for the first time that day, left sometime during the scuffle. We thought we scared him off (maybe we did), but he's still around, and one of our best friends.

Post - Election Letdown

I have to admit, I miss all of the pre-election news coverage, the same coverage I swore off so many times, only to seek it out a few hours later. I obsessed over it (thank god I have an amazing girlfriend, who doesn't mind my obsessive watching and reading of political coverage - or the NHL, for that matter!), and I feel a (sort of) void in my life, now that it's all over. Economic stimulus packages and corporate bailouts don't excite me much, and it's hard to get fired up over the vile stream of shit on fox news or right wing radio, because they don't really matter anymore. Not to be misunderstood, I am extremely excited about the Obama presidency, and the prospects of real change. I just miss the McCain mis-steps, the Palin Interviews and watching the strategy of the Obama campaign unfold. I'm sure it will be a temporary lull, things are already starting to pick up.

Buffalo isn't dead.

Cool article from the New York Times: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/16/arts/design/16ouro.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1&emc=eta1