Why Does Buffalo, NY Exist?
I have more than a passing acquaintance with The Queen City. Not only were all my school nights signed off by Irv Weinstein on WKBW 7 News, but I attended the postmodernist scatterbrained scattering known as SUNY's Amherst Campus where it never ceased to amaze me how the planners never figured that in a town where you can get six feet of snow on any given day between October and April that it might not have been the best idea to place the buildings so far apart that you could comfortably house several football stadiums in the frozen tundra between them. Your next class is in 10 minutes in the next building? Is your snowmobile warmed up?
But then again, that's Buffalo for you. Borne of a hardy Eastern European heritage where overcoming adversity is a pleasurable pastime, Buffalonians look on with a doe in the headlights stare at anyone who dares suggest that Buffalo is ranked only slightly above Vladivostok or Rovaniemi as a great place to live, so why don't they pack up and move away.
Oh, okay, Vladivostok and Rovaniemi don't have an NFL team. But given that the residency of the Bills is reliant only on the continued pulse of a 91 year-old owner, Buffalonians had better get used to showing their biometric passports whenever they want to see the Toronto Dollar Bills play from now on.
Once the Bills leave Ralph Wilson Stadium to disappear under lake effect squalls never to be seen again, then exactly what will be the reason why the lights are kept on in Buffalo? It is a city that has already had half of its population flee with all the ardour of Haitians heading over the hills from the devastated Port Au Prince. Actually large swaths of Buffalo resemble the Haitian capital today... minus the palm trees. If you thought the desolate cityscapes of Detroit were fascinating wait until you take a tour of The Butt End Of The Rust Belt. Half of downtown Buffalo makes the Motor City's Packard Plant ruins look like the Waikoloa Beach Resort. No wonder that conventional knowledge states the only people left in Buffalo are the ones who are "too poor or too stupid to leave."
"Buffalo's a great place to live," the ruddy cheeked, red-nosed Buffalo Boosters will tell you chomping down on their third Beef On Weck and gulping a Genny. That definition might be a bit suspicious as Buffalo has six months of bring your brass monkey inside cold with feet upon feet upon feet of snow piling up (southtowns anyone?) in-between four months of dreary drizzling rain, and two months of stifling Amazonian-humidity blast furnace heat that wilts any carbon based life form into a fetid puddle.
So what does Buffalo have in the refuge of the great indoors? Great restaurants? No. Culture? No. Arts? No. Museums? No. Theater? No. Nightlife? No. Any of those offerings in Buffalo are dwarfed by any given South Dakota cowtown. The only great thing that Buffalo has is an airport that takes you the hell away from it.
Buffalonians, come to your senses. Get a bunch of Cat D9s, flatten the city, and turn the urban area into farmland and vineyards. Your neighbo(u)rs across the Niagara River are making a killing with their wines. At least Buffalo would once again produce something of value to someone. Then all the Buffalonians could sit at the TGIF terrace in Tampa enjoying the sunshine, some "Buffalo" wings, and a nice glass of wine which originated from the soil where a completely useless, pointless, hideous, and pathetic excuse for a city once sprawled.
Buffalo: A gigantic waste of mortar and asphalt. Plough it under now.
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