Weather Rant aka Spreading my Buffalo Wings

It’s April 25, 2005…and it’s snowing.

Welcome to Buffalo.

Okay, I will admit it. My patience is wearing very thin these days with this place. Those who know me well know that I have tried to be a big Buffalo booster. Despite the fact that I’ve been known to speak out rather enthusiastically against the Giambra and Masiello administrations, I have extolled the cultural virtues of the area – the art, the music, the architecture, the history, traditions, and legends. While the city comes alive in the summer months with huge events like Thursdays in the Square, Allentown Art Festival, and the Taste of Buffalo (second largest “Taste” in the country, topped only by Chicago – and that’s probably only because Buffalo’s is two days and Chicago’s is a week), I have also stressed the abundance of smaller-scale urban adventures; trawling the interesting nooks and crannies of the city, exploring the little off-the-way stuff, getting one’s fingernails caked with the dirt of the uniquely Buffalo fun stuff, attending the small events buried deep within the last few pages of ArtVoice. I have stood tall and defended this place – and my decision to move back here two years ago – by pointing out these advantages, these charms, these quirks and nuances. I’m very quick to point out that this city has a world-class art gallery, filled with treasures classic and contemporary. I’ve demanded that my listener note we have higher education on what seems like every street corner – from career training to a Ph.D, there is certainly NO shortage of educational resources here. Even the public schools here are ranked some of the best in the nation.

We live 20 minutes from one of the Seven Wonders of the World – something that we all take for granted but is pretty amazing if you think about it. We grew up thinking the Falls were just another place to go when you had nothing better to do, but there are people who fly halfway around the world just to land in our backyards. We have THE best pizza (I’m a sweet-sauce, puffy-crust, burnt pepperoni kind of girl, and you just can’t get that anywhere but here), and of course, WINGS (and try as they might, nobody outside of Buffalo can ever get it right). This is the only place on earth you can get Loganberry – and on tap at that. Most bands stop here on their tours (although I’ve yet to convince Mason Jennings or Alice Peacock to make a stop here). And then there is that art-deco behemoth love of mine, Central Terminal. The list of good things about Buffalo goes on and on and on.

Of course we also have corrupt politicians, gross departmental mismanagement, and squandered resources. Thanks to the people in charge, we can’t use our libraries half the time, we have to break into public parks if we want to enjoy them, and we have to drive thirteen miles out of the way to get a stupid driver’s license renewal. We have crime. We have drugs. We have our fair share of urban blight. You can’t fly anywhere directly from here. And on top of all of this, our weather SUCKS.

Bottom line - I can’t take it any more. May is a week away, and we’re still getting winter weather advisories. This is bullshit! The first day of spring was MORE than a month ago…where the hell is it? I want my spring! My garden should be blossoming with daffodils and crocuses and hyacinths! My grass should be greening up! My maple tree out front should be budding! My heat should not be still kicking on in the middle of the day with my thermostat set at 60 god damn degrees!! I hate that, on April 25th, I have to wear my winter coat. I hate that we get like three or four “teaser” days, where the temps get up near 70, and then just when we think we’ve made it, we go back into the 30’s. Damn it! We will continue this “Sprinter” season, this vacillation between the seasons, until Memorial Day, when the threat of any more snow has been completely eliminated. As much as that sounds like a sarcastic statement, it is sadly, unfortunately, the truth. I’ve seen in snow in May, boys and girls. Stranger things have happened.

Once we’ve eliminated all threats of snow, then we deal with the rain. Buckets of rain, all summer long. After having spent nine years in Chicago where the summers were excruciatingly (as in 90’s, 100’s) hot, my first summer back here was kind of nice. I would love a summer of high 70’s, low 80’s, and just a few spectacular thunderstorms to make it truly perfect. But here it will stay mostly in the 70’s, we will spend some time in the 80’s, and it will rain. Then it will rain. Then it will rain again. And then it will rain some more. And my neighbors and my customers and my co-workers will all say the same thing…“wet enough for ya?” Hardy har har. We’ll crack jokes about building arks and whatnot, and I will curse. Loudly. Then I’ll blow my nose, since I’ll still be fighting the cold I’ve had since Christmas.

Then once we’re finished having a semi-summer, we’ll head into fall, which is typically my favorite season but is much too short. The leaves will turn and fall before we know what’s happening, and the first fallen leaf is the cue: people, get ready. It’s going to start snowing soon. By Halloween we’ll have seen flurries, if not more, and by Thanksgiving we’ll have shoveled the driveway at least once. Then we’ll settle in for the winter and wait for May to arrive all over again. It’s sad. And for someone whose mental state is affected profoundly by the weather, it can be pretty damn depressing.

So when I woke up yesterday morning and saw an inch of snow on the ground, and then drove to work in wet snow this morning, I cemented my resolve. I will be leaving again – and soon. To where, I don’t know yet, and that will depend on a lot of things, like job markets and grad school applications. But it won’t be anywhere it snows into early summer. Maybe I’ll head out west or perhaps down south where snow is a remote memory for some, an abstract concept for others. Hmm, maybe a place like North Carolina where they get those freak ½-inch snowfalls and shut everything down. I can laugh at the people freaking out as I enjoy my day off.

Or I may possibly just move back to Chicago, where the weather sucks but at least I can get a direct flight to anywhere in the world. Plus, nobody ever skips over Chicago when touring, I can get a real burrito at 4:00 in the morning, and if Richard M. Daley is still running the joint, I know I’ll at least like the mayor.