The other decision I came to during the course of my walk was to discontinue this project that I've been working on for the past six months. While it may just be a convenient time for me to do so, considering the laptop I charged last week or the doctor appointment I have coming up next week that I'll have to put on my credit card as well, I've also had enough of the daily counting of every single penny that I spend.
When I set out I set out to do this for a year. At the end of December it was six months. And I feel that a suitable enough place to stop. Over the next week I'll analyze some stats and make some conclusions based upon those, but the main goal was to show that life isn't nearly as expensive as we might think it to be and for the most part I think I showed that.
Where I failed was knowing, in the back of my mind, I was going to need some money set aside to be able to inevitably and ultimately move away once again. And in constantly pressuring myself to save money, and count every penny I spent (and not allow myself to having next to nothing and trusting things would still find a way to work out for themselves) I was allowing money to be at the forefront of my day-to-day experience: quite the opposite of what I set out to do.
Still, in having a job that will easily be replaced once I get to Portland (umm...I hope), in other words doing nothing in the form of a career, I am able to follow the instinct that has led me to decide to return there. Besides some unfinished business that I left behind out there, what better reason to do nothing and living cheaply than to have the freedom to be able to up and follow those instinctive desires when they beckon?
That's not to say I'm not incredibly strung out and anxious about the move or what I'll leave behind. But having managed the space and freedom to at least attempt it makes the last six months--if not the last six years of my life--a success as far that goes.
And I hope that I've still yet to see just how far that is.
Showing posts with label Buffalo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buffalo. Show all posts
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Birthday Monday
Five years ago, to familiarize myself with parts of Buffalo I otherwise was ignorant of, I decided that I would take a day-long walk around Buffalo to commemorate my birthday. I wasn't raised celebrating my birthday and have since never preferred attention being brought to it or make a big deal about it. But why not at least take such a walk on a date I'd remember? Besides, that extra money Mom refuses not to give me (and which I certainly begrudgingly accept) every year for my birthday is perfect for just such an event.
Of course, just as last time, the weather was windy and below ten degrees to start the day off. But, once again, this wouldn't deter my attempts at taking the entire day to make my way around.
This time I started with breakfast at Bertha's Diner and Hertel around 11am and took it from there. I had only general plans at best and decided it best to just go wherever I wished to go. This time especially being significant with my impending departure, I wanted the day to be free of any unnecessary stress and just take the day and the city in as much as I could.
I had made quite my way around North Buffalo for a few hours, making it over to South Campus and as far north as Kenmore Ave before making my way down one of my three favorite Buffalo streets, Starin Ave. But after only two hours, and probably not just because I stupidly only wore one pair of pants but probably also because I am now five years older than the last time I tried this walk, my knee started hurting so badly that it forced me to limp over to the Humboldt subway station and make my way downtown via the Metro Rail.
Still, the walk wasn't a total loss. The simple act of walking has a way of clearing the mind of the unnecessary worries--such as those that have left me, at times, so anxious/analytical/depressed over the last few weeks that I have had little luck at doing much more than finding myself on a deprived and demented sleep schedule--that it becomes medicinal if not even meditative. And as such, I was able to clear my mind just long enough to think of things that I have needed to think about for some time now.
The main one I'll get to in my next post. As for the secondary one, I was once again able to take in another day of enjoying the neighborhoods of Buffalo. I even cleared my camera so as to take as many pictures of the places I walked as possible.
And in walking, and taking in the streetscapes while it lightly snowed on already snow covered lawns and streets, and the others equally bundled up and out walking as though the cold and snow were barely a hindrance at all, I knew I was taking in Buffalo for what I have always appreciated it for and probably always would.
But those streetscapes, and the houses and the general atmosphere they help create will always be here in some form or another. As I made one more gut check as to whether or not I really wanted to leave here, I came away again more certain that I did. For what I find so comforting in the landscape, I now find lacking in my emotional attachment to the city. For whatever reason, true or disillusion, everything here has an air of permanence. From the large, worn-in, inviting homes to the families I've seen my cousins my age now being, it is a permanence I have no direct access to at the moment and may in fact never--for better or worse--have access to.
It was easy for me to pass through the streets an unnoticed bypasser taking in the view. But as has become apparent to me over the last seven months (or more?), it, for me, is a whole other matter to try to feel the sense of impermanence I still find myself in need of amongst such a place that affords the wonderful, stable comforts home and history. For reasons I may not even be certain of myself, right now I know it's time to move on once again. It may just be pointless running that I'm doing, it may not be; I may just wind up back here again, I may not. But right now, as I reassured myself on that walk, it's what I need to do.
I noticed Buffalo will always be my home on my walk.
But sometime ago, I left that home. I came back believing that it still was and wanting to make sure. But just as I couldn't recreate the walk I took five years ago--my knees are getting older--as the saying goes, I also couldn't go home again.
Of course, just as last time, the weather was windy and below ten degrees to start the day off. But, once again, this wouldn't deter my attempts at taking the entire day to make my way around.
This time I started with breakfast at Bertha's Diner and Hertel around 11am and took it from there. I had only general plans at best and decided it best to just go wherever I wished to go. This time especially being significant with my impending departure, I wanted the day to be free of any unnecessary stress and just take the day and the city in as much as I could.
I had made quite my way around North Buffalo for a few hours, making it over to South Campus and as far north as Kenmore Ave before making my way down one of my three favorite Buffalo streets, Starin Ave. But after only two hours, and probably not just because I stupidly only wore one pair of pants but probably also because I am now five years older than the last time I tried this walk, my knee started hurting so badly that it forced me to limp over to the Humboldt subway station and make my way downtown via the Metro Rail.
Still, the walk wasn't a total loss. The simple act of walking has a way of clearing the mind of the unnecessary worries--such as those that have left me, at times, so anxious/analytical/depressed over the last few weeks that I have had little luck at doing much more than finding myself on a deprived and demented sleep schedule--that it becomes medicinal if not even meditative. And as such, I was able to clear my mind just long enough to think of things that I have needed to think about for some time now.
The main one I'll get to in my next post. As for the secondary one, I was once again able to take in another day of enjoying the neighborhoods of Buffalo. I even cleared my camera so as to take as many pictures of the places I walked as possible.
And in walking, and taking in the streetscapes while it lightly snowed on already snow covered lawns and streets, and the others equally bundled up and out walking as though the cold and snow were barely a hindrance at all, I knew I was taking in Buffalo for what I have always appreciated it for and probably always would.
But those streetscapes, and the houses and the general atmosphere they help create will always be here in some form or another. As I made one more gut check as to whether or not I really wanted to leave here, I came away again more certain that I did. For what I find so comforting in the landscape, I now find lacking in my emotional attachment to the city. For whatever reason, true or disillusion, everything here has an air of permanence. From the large, worn-in, inviting homes to the families I've seen my cousins my age now being, it is a permanence I have no direct access to at the moment and may in fact never--for better or worse--have access to.
It was easy for me to pass through the streets an unnoticed bypasser taking in the view. But as has become apparent to me over the last seven months (or more?), it, for me, is a whole other matter to try to feel the sense of impermanence I still find myself in need of amongst such a place that affords the wonderful, stable comforts home and history. For reasons I may not even be certain of myself, right now I know it's time to move on once again. It may just be pointless running that I'm doing, it may not be; I may just wind up back here again, I may not. But right now, as I reassured myself on that walk, it's what I need to do.
I noticed Buffalo will always be my home on my walk.
But sometime ago, I left that home. I came back believing that it still was and wanting to make sure. But just as I couldn't recreate the walk I took five years ago--my knees are getting older--as the saying goes, I also couldn't go home again.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
New Year, New City
Without a doubt, the biggest development in regards to these posts that came over the holiday season was my decision to once again move back to Portland.
My first posts described this as a project to see if I could spend no more than $1,000 a month, but a large part of the ideas laid out were that I would do it living in Buffalo, both because of its affordability and with the hopes of making myself reacquainted with my hometown city.
Now I'm faced with the decision as to whether or not I should continue this project in another city--and thereby continue to count every penny I spend, which, as one might guess, has begun to leave me a bit spent--or instead celebrate the freedom that doing nothing, in the larger sense--such as not having a career or house to hold me down--allows me to have and thus enables me to be able to travel at whim's desire.
My first posts described this as a project to see if I could spend no more than $1,000 a month, but a large part of the ideas laid out were that I would do it living in Buffalo, both because of its affordability and with the hopes of making myself reacquainted with my hometown city.
Now I'm faced with the decision as to whether or not I should continue this project in another city--and thereby continue to count every penny I spend, which, as one might guess, has begun to leave me a bit spent--or instead celebrate the freedom that doing nothing, in the larger sense--such as not having a career or house to hold me down--allows me to have and thus enables me to be able to travel at whim's desire.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
The Knot in My Stomach
As my time was winding down on the job, my frustrations had boiled over onto Buffalo as well: for not having more people to justify more frequent bus stops out near where I worked or for not having more jobs so I could more easily quite one I hate and easily replace it.
When I came back to Buffalo this summer, I came back with no illusions about it being something it wasn’t (and isn’t) and with expectations no loftier than discovering some of the things it might still nevertheless have going for it that I may have previously missed. If that job had done anything more it removed me from the physical city too frequently, for too long each day. Now that I have the free time to be in the city itself everyday, I am making sure, at the very least, that if I am to leave Buffalo again, I am going to leave it on good terms.
Because, that said, I’ve definitely been seriously considering a move back to Portland a lot lately. Enough so that I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in my life next and find myself in a limbo state--both welcomed and unwelcome--at the moment. Everyday I’ve had a knot in the pit of my stomach constantly pouring over the possibilities, half excited, half nervous about making a good decision and making it for the right reasons. I know that it’s a knot that is a result of being willing to quit a job, live off as little money as possible and be willing to move about on an instinctual whim when the feeling dictates. I know too that I will eventually, when looking back, appreciate this situation as being a result of that freedom, but that will be easier than actually going through the experience as it interferes with my day from time to time.
I recently had a passing thought that I may have seen a bit too much of myself in Buffalo: a proud past that potentially had a promising future that ultimately went an unforeseen and unexpected route. That Buffalo isn’t as big a city that I might want to be living in, but, like I said, I had no illusions about that before I came back. If I am going to leave, it will be reasons unrelated to such arbitrary standards but rather for the fact that I may just have to admit that Buffalo might not be the place for me to be at this time.
And between Buffalo and I, the one I can change the easiest is myself.
When I came back to Buffalo this summer, I came back with no illusions about it being something it wasn’t (and isn’t) and with expectations no loftier than discovering some of the things it might still nevertheless have going for it that I may have previously missed. If that job had done anything more it removed me from the physical city too frequently, for too long each day. Now that I have the free time to be in the city itself everyday, I am making sure, at the very least, that if I am to leave Buffalo again, I am going to leave it on good terms.
Because, that said, I’ve definitely been seriously considering a move back to Portland a lot lately. Enough so that I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in my life next and find myself in a limbo state--both welcomed and unwelcome--at the moment. Everyday I’ve had a knot in the pit of my stomach constantly pouring over the possibilities, half excited, half nervous about making a good decision and making it for the right reasons. I know that it’s a knot that is a result of being willing to quit a job, live off as little money as possible and be willing to move about on an instinctual whim when the feeling dictates. I know too that I will eventually, when looking back, appreciate this situation as being a result of that freedom, but that will be easier than actually going through the experience as it interferes with my day from time to time.
I recently had a passing thought that I may have seen a bit too much of myself in Buffalo: a proud past that potentially had a promising future that ultimately went an unforeseen and unexpected route. That Buffalo isn’t as big a city that I might want to be living in, but, like I said, I had no illusions about that before I came back. If I am going to leave, it will be reasons unrelated to such arbitrary standards but rather for the fact that I may just have to admit that Buffalo might not be the place for me to be at this time.
And between Buffalo and I, the one I can change the easiest is myself.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Car Borrowing/Bike Riding
Tomorrow will be the first day in almost two weeks that I won't have a car to drive myself to work. As many free drink I've still been seeing every weekend, the cars have been being loaned to me nearly as frequently.
And as incredibly convenient that they have been in cutting down the commute to work and allowing me to use them for little errands like grocery shopping, as soon as I have to fill them up with gas I am immediately reminded just how little interest I have in actually have in owning a car again.
It's an incredibly generous offer that I will take every time from a friend in borrowing a car. But as soon as I would have to pay insurance, repairs (etc) would be when my interest in an automobile would cease.
And despite the colder weather now arriving, I still haven't abandoned my bike. In fact, I used it to go food shopping today. Today was the very type of day that I had been romanticizing when living in Portland and such a day that I wanted to ride my bike on just to show it possible. Once I got past the brief moment that I thought I was fucking crazy for ever romanticizing such a stupid thought, I warmed up and made it back and forth with an enjoyable ease even with the winds picking up.
So even on a day when I was mostly lazy (but not drinking at least), I did manage to accomplish something I had set out to in my return.
And as incredibly convenient that they have been in cutting down the commute to work and allowing me to use them for little errands like grocery shopping, as soon as I have to fill them up with gas I am immediately reminded just how little interest I have in actually have in owning a car again.
It's an incredibly generous offer that I will take every time from a friend in borrowing a car. But as soon as I would have to pay insurance, repairs (etc) would be when my interest in an automobile would cease.
And despite the colder weather now arriving, I still haven't abandoned my bike. In fact, I used it to go food shopping today. Today was the very type of day that I had been romanticizing when living in Portland and such a day that I wanted to ride my bike on just to show it possible. Once I got past the brief moment that I thought I was fucking crazy for ever romanticizing such a stupid thought, I warmed up and made it back and forth with an enjoyable ease even with the winds picking up.
So even on a day when I was mostly lazy (but not drinking at least), I did manage to accomplish something I had set out to in my return.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Saturday Morning Coming Up
Today I woke up like I have not on a Saturday morning in quite some time: before 2:00pm and less than mildly hungover.
This minor victory to the beginning of my day was quickly turned into a short trip to Wegman's where my roommate and I had our jokes about the lives we were leading somehow oddly reaffirmed when I walked by my prom date, unnoticed, only to overhear a conversation that mentioned she had recently been married.
On the ride home I jumped out of the car at a traffic light to pick up two tubes to fix my bike's two flat tires. And having gotten that out of the way I began walking the six blocks home and noticed it started snowing.
I have been waiting for snow in Buffalo for two years now. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to keep walking in that weather so I hurried home, unpacked my groceries, ate and headed back out to go for a walk.
As I walked south down Elmwood humming songs from Dylan's Time Out of Mind there was an odd feeling that I was somewhere both in my past and my future--a combination of a longing romanticism of previous days and the optimism that there is a pay off somewhere down the road that says everything I've ever done had rightfully lead up to that moment--in the very moment that I was experiencing.
The snow still falling, my breath visible and an unexpected warmth derived from the otherwise dreary gray overcast above me, for the first time in months I felt comfortable right where I was as I was right where I wanted to be. Even though I was just walking, observing, passing by and not actually touching anything, it--Buffalo--was all making an impression upon me that made me feel as though I were as much a part of it as it was a part of me. These were the moments that would always be recalled when remembering Buffalo and I was conscious enough to enjoy the moment for what it was.
I made it all the way downtown on my walk, saw the new M&T building that, while still new and pristine to offer any sort of welcoming feeling, will at least give notice that there were in fact still people living in Buffalo in the '00's, made it down Chippewa and then back up Elmwood before going all the way back north to Talking Leaves on the corner of Bidwell and Elmwood.
And all the while, contrary to usually being too trapped in my head to take in the details of the scenery, I noticed all the side streets--Virginia, Edward, Trinity, Tracy, Johnson Park--that I wish I could live on though felt life's limited length will prevent me from doing so, and I took in views down alleys and through parking lots and up and down the side streets that I hadn't ever seen before despite the number of times I had walked the very same route.
And because nothing can exist without its opposite--a city must first die before being reborn--I felt that the last few months that I've been sluggishly pushing through were suddenly worth it for they allowed this day and these moments, their total opposites, to occur. It might be gone tomorrow and I might return to that limbo place soon enough, but from this serene (re)connection to Buffalo today I saw signs of a personal rebound and again being assured that this is where I want to be and this is what I want to be doing with myself at his point, these thoughts all culminating in the calm realization that this is what I could do everyday if I simply didn't work. Or at least as much and so far from my house. And so all questions and doubt were ended at that moment: I will be quitting by the end of the year and will trust that work will be found and bills will be paid and, most importantly, I will again find myself back in the moments that led me to return to Buffalo and that will, should I leave again, always be calling me back.
Curious to know if every Saturday could be like this should I only wake up early enough.
This minor victory to the beginning of my day was quickly turned into a short trip to Wegman's where my roommate and I had our jokes about the lives we were leading somehow oddly reaffirmed when I walked by my prom date, unnoticed, only to overhear a conversation that mentioned she had recently been married.
On the ride home I jumped out of the car at a traffic light to pick up two tubes to fix my bike's two flat tires. And having gotten that out of the way I began walking the six blocks home and noticed it started snowing.
I have been waiting for snow in Buffalo for two years now. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to keep walking in that weather so I hurried home, unpacked my groceries, ate and headed back out to go for a walk.
As I walked south down Elmwood humming songs from Dylan's Time Out of Mind there was an odd feeling that I was somewhere both in my past and my future--a combination of a longing romanticism of previous days and the optimism that there is a pay off somewhere down the road that says everything I've ever done had rightfully lead up to that moment--in the very moment that I was experiencing.
The snow still falling, my breath visible and an unexpected warmth derived from the otherwise dreary gray overcast above me, for the first time in months I felt comfortable right where I was as I was right where I wanted to be. Even though I was just walking, observing, passing by and not actually touching anything, it--Buffalo--was all making an impression upon me that made me feel as though I were as much a part of it as it was a part of me. These were the moments that would always be recalled when remembering Buffalo and I was conscious enough to enjoy the moment for what it was.
I made it all the way downtown on my walk, saw the new M&T building that, while still new and pristine to offer any sort of welcoming feeling, will at least give notice that there were in fact still people living in Buffalo in the '00's, made it down Chippewa and then back up Elmwood before going all the way back north to Talking Leaves on the corner of Bidwell and Elmwood.
And all the while, contrary to usually being too trapped in my head to take in the details of the scenery, I noticed all the side streets--Virginia, Edward, Trinity, Tracy, Johnson Park--that I wish I could live on though felt life's limited length will prevent me from doing so, and I took in views down alleys and through parking lots and up and down the side streets that I hadn't ever seen before despite the number of times I had walked the very same route.
And because nothing can exist without its opposite--a city must first die before being reborn--I felt that the last few months that I've been sluggishly pushing through were suddenly worth it for they allowed this day and these moments, their total opposites, to occur. It might be gone tomorrow and I might return to that limbo place soon enough, but from this serene (re)connection to Buffalo today I saw signs of a personal rebound and again being assured that this is where I want to be and this is what I want to be doing with myself at his point, these thoughts all culminating in the calm realization that this is what I could do everyday if I simply didn't work. Or at least as much and so far from my house. And so all questions and doubt were ended at that moment: I will be quitting by the end of the year and will trust that work will be found and bills will be paid and, most importantly, I will again find myself back in the moments that led me to return to Buffalo and that will, should I leave again, always be calling me back.
Curious to know if every Saturday could be like this should I only wake up early enough.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Bye Week Sunday
It only hurts when I move.
Ow.
I found a great way to force myself to do nothing for more than two straight days: play a little pick up football with my friends!
We (my standard group of friends) played this past Bye Week Sunday (yes, it's worthy of capitals) at Delaware Park, figuring we would play a five-on-five or six-on-six game against each other. But when we got there there was another group of seven guys ready to play a game amongst themselves until both groups decided to play each other.
But rather than play ten-on-seven, we politely suggested playing seven-on-seven and we would begrudgingly substitute our players throughout the game. Who would have known that rotating ten guys would help our rag tag, hungover, out of shape team against an otherwise borderline Johnny (or is that borderline-Johnny?) team that may not have been thoroughly in shape, but at least appeared to have been in shape at some point in their lives?
Still the game was close. Playing to seven, we were up 4-2 and then 6-4 before they tied the game up both times. And as our game-winning drive came to an unsuccessful conclusion when I femininely went for a pass that was thrown only slightly high and tipped it to the safety for an interception, I doubt I was the only one who worried we were going to blow a two point lead.
But perhaps I was the only one because my friend Jay followed up the turnover with a great tip into our very own Don's hands giving us the ball deep in their territory. From there we dropped a couple more sure fire touchdowns only to be saved by a spectacular diving catch in the corner of the end zone by Cakes for the game winner.
"Don't celebrate unless you got it," said the worst of the goons.
Oh, we had it. We had it the whole time.
The entire game further deepened my preference to play a game of any sort rather than watch it. And the fact that my friends and I banded together and defeated the common Johnny enemy (some of the guys were good guys and fun to play against, though, like all groups of people, that was by no means entirely the case) made it all the more sweeter.
But ever since then I have barely been able to move. Perhaps the body, in not being a bicycle, requires constant physical attention to maintain a youthful exuberance after all. But either way, I've gotten my way and haven't done a thing since.
And even though we all know we won because we had subs, I'd hate to think how I'd feel right now if we didn't.
Ow.
I found a great way to force myself to do nothing for more than two straight days: play a little pick up football with my friends!
We (my standard group of friends) played this past Bye Week Sunday (yes, it's worthy of capitals) at Delaware Park, figuring we would play a five-on-five or six-on-six game against each other. But when we got there there was another group of seven guys ready to play a game amongst themselves until both groups decided to play each other.
But rather than play ten-on-seven, we politely suggested playing seven-on-seven and we would begrudgingly substitute our players throughout the game. Who would have known that rotating ten guys would help our rag tag, hungover, out of shape team against an otherwise borderline Johnny (or is that borderline-Johnny?) team that may not have been thoroughly in shape, but at least appeared to have been in shape at some point in their lives?
Still the game was close. Playing to seven, we were up 4-2 and then 6-4 before they tied the game up both times. And as our game-winning drive came to an unsuccessful conclusion when I femininely went for a pass that was thrown only slightly high and tipped it to the safety for an interception, I doubt I was the only one who worried we were going to blow a two point lead.
But perhaps I was the only one because my friend Jay followed up the turnover with a great tip into our very own Don's hands giving us the ball deep in their territory. From there we dropped a couple more sure fire touchdowns only to be saved by a spectacular diving catch in the corner of the end zone by Cakes for the game winner.
"Don't celebrate unless you got it," said the worst of the goons.
Oh, we had it. We had it the whole time.
The entire game further deepened my preference to play a game of any sort rather than watch it. And the fact that my friends and I banded together and defeated the common Johnny enemy (some of the guys were good guys and fun to play against, though, like all groups of people, that was by no means entirely the case) made it all the more sweeter.
But ever since then I have barely been able to move. Perhaps the body, in not being a bicycle, requires constant physical attention to maintain a youthful exuberance after all. But either way, I've gotten my way and haven't done a thing since.
And even though we all know we won because we had subs, I'd hate to think how I'd feel right now if we didn't.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Good Ol' Hockey Game
I meant to add this post during the Bills game (and actually before last Friday's Sabres' opener) and now after yesterday's performance feel the need to post it even more:
Despite the now 0-2 start, I am excited about the upcoming Sabres season.
This season looks to be something of a relief in the face of all the heavy pressure and expectations to win it all last season. And even with the departure of the two captains and their immediate impacts in their first games for their respective teams, there still remains a lot of promise and talent, not to mention a lot more youth than the two captains took with them.
Maybe it is a standard denial experienced by any hometown fan (Buffalonians--and I one of them--seem especially competent at it), or perhaps the Sabres teams of the past two seasons really did transform me into an actual optimist exactly as I claimed to be last season when it was far easier to be one (remember, this talk of optimism from a Buffalo team was written before last night's Bills game -ed.), but the Sabres didn't win in either of the last two seasons while having both of the now departed captains. Now getting older, how much could those chances have increased over the last two seasons? Not to mention by the time their new contracts would have run out?
It still hurts to have lost their services, especially New York's acquisition in that he, perhaps better than any other previous Buffalo athlete, embodied what Buffalo fans want from a player.
Still, I look at the new season, at its best anyways, to be somewhat like two seasons ago when the success was a surprise and enjoyed in the light of its unexpectedness.
And if all else fails, it can't be any worse than the Bills season. Bring on that good ol' hockey game and Harry Neale.
Despite the now 0-2 start, I am excited about the upcoming Sabres season.
This season looks to be something of a relief in the face of all the heavy pressure and expectations to win it all last season. And even with the departure of the two captains and their immediate impacts in their first games for their respective teams, there still remains a lot of promise and talent, not to mention a lot more youth than the two captains took with them.
Maybe it is a standard denial experienced by any hometown fan (Buffalonians--and I one of them--seem especially competent at it), or perhaps the Sabres teams of the past two seasons really did transform me into an actual optimist exactly as I claimed to be last season when it was far easier to be one (remember, this talk of optimism from a Buffalo team was written before last night's Bills game -ed.), but the Sabres didn't win in either of the last two seasons while having both of the now departed captains. Now getting older, how much could those chances have increased over the last two seasons? Not to mention by the time their new contracts would have run out?
It still hurts to have lost their services, especially New York's acquisition in that he, perhaps better than any other previous Buffalo athlete, embodied what Buffalo fans want from a player.
Still, I look at the new season, at its best anyways, to be somewhat like two seasons ago when the success was a surprise and enjoyed in the light of its unexpectedness.
And if all else fails, it can't be any worse than the Bills season. Bring on that good ol' hockey game and Harry Neale.
Tuesdayoff
I'm doubtful that today's day off couldn't've gone much better.
After making my initial posts here for the day I went on to finish reading the book, Jailbird, I had started a few days ago. From there, very restless with the amount of free time I had on my hands, I went for an hour and a half bike ride.
For whatever reason, I have long accepted the notion that Buffalo is a small city and that the only healthy areas it has are Elmwood, Hertel and, to a lesser extent, Main St.
The truth is that Buffalo is a small city relative to the many other cities on the planet. And 280,000 people is still a lot of people unless compared to the 6,500,000,000 of us funny little creatures running around on the same planet. A planet which we also accept as small, but this is true only when compared to other known planets.
But to me, on a bike, the planet is fucking enormous. And even Buffalo is big. Big enough even to house neighborhoods I have never been in. Thankfully, I found a few of them today. In fact I went down eleven streets I had never been on before: Florida St, Hedley Pl, Hughes Ave, Blaine St, Beverly Rd, Meech St, Oak Grove Ave, Loring Ave, Burbank Dr, Meadowview Pl, Agassiz Cir that lead me to the previously unvisited Medaille College that anyone who has ever driven on the 198 has been next to while waiting at the light at Parkside.
Some of the views include:
Beverly Rd, which with its consistent row of houses with the median in the road and those seemingly ancient street lights rotating direction gives me yet another street scape that makes me immediately think of Buffalo:
Trees on Hughes Ave, right behind Canius College, that I didn't think grew that tall in Buffalo. Or survived the October storm for that matter:
Florida St, where I see five distinct Buffalo characteristics in this view:
1. Parking Lot Front property (though that may be more of an American characteristic than specifically just a Buffalo one)
2. An empty parking lot
3. Sparse, unhealthy looking trees
4. A boarded up attic window
5. A plastic covered window
From there I slowly made my way through Forest Lawn Cemetery for a few pics:
Death Front Property:
Once I returned home I caught up with a lot of the small daily distractions that I tend to put off in the name of not annoying myself like straightening up my room, catching up on emails (I'm still behind) and continuing some other things I've been meaning to spend some time working on.
I did catch a couple of brief naps, as well as a brief Seinfeld for my only TV (as opposed to those long Seinfelds). By the end of the day I did take one more bike ride after making dinner and am now winding up the day with a little bit of posting here and the hopefully some reading before I go to bed.
All in all, not a bad day. Seeing what I can do with an entire free of drinking or a hangover it almost makes me wish I didn't drink.
Almost.
After making my initial posts here for the day I went on to finish reading the book, Jailbird, I had started a few days ago. From there, very restless with the amount of free time I had on my hands, I went for an hour and a half bike ride.
For whatever reason, I have long accepted the notion that Buffalo is a small city and that the only healthy areas it has are Elmwood, Hertel and, to a lesser extent, Main St.
The truth is that Buffalo is a small city relative to the many other cities on the planet. And 280,000 people is still a lot of people unless compared to the 6,500,000,000 of us funny little creatures running around on the same planet. A planet which we also accept as small, but this is true only when compared to other known planets.
But to me, on a bike, the planet is fucking enormous. And even Buffalo is big. Big enough even to house neighborhoods I have never been in. Thankfully, I found a few of them today. In fact I went down eleven streets I had never been on before: Florida St, Hedley Pl, Hughes Ave, Blaine St, Beverly Rd, Meech St, Oak Grove Ave, Loring Ave, Burbank Dr, Meadowview Pl, Agassiz Cir that lead me to the previously unvisited Medaille College that anyone who has ever driven on the 198 has been next to while waiting at the light at Parkside.
Some of the views include:
Beverly Rd, which with its consistent row of houses with the median in the road and those seemingly ancient street lights rotating direction gives me yet another street scape that makes me immediately think of Buffalo:
Trees on Hughes Ave, right behind Canius College, that I didn't think grew that tall in Buffalo. Or survived the October storm for that matter:
Florida St, where I see five distinct Buffalo characteristics in this view:
1. Parking Lot Front property (though that may be more of an American characteristic than specifically just a Buffalo one)
2. An empty parking lot
3. Sparse, unhealthy looking trees
4. A boarded up attic window
5. A plastic covered window
From there I slowly made my way through Forest Lawn Cemetery for a few pics:
Death Front Property:
Once I returned home I caught up with a lot of the small daily distractions that I tend to put off in the name of not annoying myself like straightening up my room, catching up on emails (I'm still behind) and continuing some other things I've been meaning to spend some time working on.
I did catch a couple of brief naps, as well as a brief Seinfeld for my only TV (as opposed to those long Seinfelds). By the end of the day I did take one more bike ride after making dinner and am now winding up the day with a little bit of posting here and the hopefully some reading before I go to bed.
All in all, not a bad day. Seeing what I can do with an entire free of drinking or a hangover it almost makes me wish I didn't drink.
Almost.
Last Thoughts On Last Night's Bills Game
Really, this is it. I'm ready to move on now.
Seinfeld once suggested that, with the way players change teams so much, we are really rooting for laundry. And for the most part I can't argue with that point.
But I think it's more a matter of simple arithmetic.
See, last night's loss was especially harsh because of the almost impossible chances the Cowboys overcame just to win the game.
Normally, I love watching the nearly mathematically impossible. It just might be the very thing had keeps my interest in sports alive. Except when it victimizes my team.
As fans, we'd like to think that winning vs. losing is a 50% likelihood. Thus, when one thinks of the chances of losing four straight Super Bowls, it would look like the chances are 1 out of 16 (1/2 ^4) and we were victims of mathematical absurdities.
But deep down we also know the other factors influencing those odds--talent or coaching disparity, injuries, home crowds, etc--and that it's rarely an even 50% chance of winning.
But likewise, it's never a 0% chance either. And when you get to watch a team overcome what were said to be long shot odds to win, it makes the win all that much sweeter.
The Bills were :02 away from doing just that. And up to that point they put all the odds on their side but still lost.
And that's what makes this such dirty laundry to have to air out today.
Seinfeld once suggested that, with the way players change teams so much, we are really rooting for laundry. And for the most part I can't argue with that point.
But I think it's more a matter of simple arithmetic.
See, last night's loss was especially harsh because of the almost impossible chances the Cowboys overcame just to win the game.
Normally, I love watching the nearly mathematically impossible. It just might be the very thing had keeps my interest in sports alive. Except when it victimizes my team.
As fans, we'd like to think that winning vs. losing is a 50% likelihood. Thus, when one thinks of the chances of losing four straight Super Bowls, it would look like the chances are 1 out of 16 (1/2 ^4) and we were victims of mathematical absurdities.
But deep down we also know the other factors influencing those odds--talent or coaching disparity, injuries, home crowds, etc--and that it's rarely an even 50% chance of winning.
But likewise, it's never a 0% chance either. And when you get to watch a team overcome what were said to be long shot odds to win, it makes the win all that much sweeter.
The Bills were :02 away from doing just that. And up to that point they put all the odds on their side but still lost.
And that's what makes this such dirty laundry to have to air out today.
Monday, October 8, 2007
A Short Open Letter: To the Buffalo Bills
Seriously?
Seriously?
There is no way you just lost that game.
Super Bowl XXV.
Six turnovers. Two defensive touchdowns. One kickoff return for a touchdown.
Seriously?
And still you let them nearly tie the score in the last minute.
Music City Nightmare.
But redeemed yourself by stopping the two-point conversion.
Only to let them grab the on-side kick.
The season opener against the Jets.
And even when the officials upstairs sided with you and said T.O. didn't catch that pass, you decided not to cover the little dump-off pass that had killed you all night.
Not once, but twice.
Jacksonville season opener.
And then you had the audacity to call a timeout and force us, your fans, to watch the game winning kick twice.
How many ways can you lose in one fucking game?
The blown 24-3 4th quarter lead against Miami two years ago.
Over the years I've slowly distanced myself from getting so emotionally involved in games that I have no direct influence upon. And yet watching that home crowd going absolutely berserk for a 1-3 team, seeing our depleted defense play like a Super Bowl contender, and having confidence in a quarterback for the first time since--who, Flutie?--how could I not get wrapped up and think we deserved to win?
Even the Denver season opener just four weeks ago.
How many teams have made their fans say that it would have been better to let the opponent score the tying two-point conversion with twenty seconds left and go to overtime?
Worse, how many teams have made their fans say, with :20 left, after just stopping the opposition's two-point conversion attempt, "this game still isn't over. I remember that Titans game."
Yes I remember it. But tonight, I didn't think I would have to remember it.
As I will now also have to remember this game, not as one of those sweet shining moments that gives us reason to hope and to hang in there and root for a team hoping to rebuild, but as a part of that ever increasing list of utter disappointments we saw coming but failed to believe would actually happen.
I feel like I've got to keep my friends on suicide watch. I can't even imagine what it's like at the stadium now.
That's enough for now.
No, that's enough for good.
-nait
Seriously?
There is no way you just lost that game.
Super Bowl XXV.
Six turnovers. Two defensive touchdowns. One kickoff return for a touchdown.
Seriously?
And still you let them nearly tie the score in the last minute.
Music City Nightmare.
But redeemed yourself by stopping the two-point conversion.
Only to let them grab the on-side kick.
The season opener against the Jets.
And even when the officials upstairs sided with you and said T.O. didn't catch that pass, you decided not to cover the little dump-off pass that had killed you all night.
Not once, but twice.
Jacksonville season opener.
And then you had the audacity to call a timeout and force us, your fans, to watch the game winning kick twice.
How many ways can you lose in one fucking game?
The blown 24-3 4th quarter lead against Miami two years ago.
Over the years I've slowly distanced myself from getting so emotionally involved in games that I have no direct influence upon. And yet watching that home crowd going absolutely berserk for a 1-3 team, seeing our depleted defense play like a Super Bowl contender, and having confidence in a quarterback for the first time since--who, Flutie?--how could I not get wrapped up and think we deserved to win?
Even the Denver season opener just four weeks ago.
How many teams have made their fans say that it would have been better to let the opponent score the tying two-point conversion with twenty seconds left and go to overtime?
Worse, how many teams have made their fans say, with :20 left, after just stopping the opposition's two-point conversion attempt, "this game still isn't over. I remember that Titans game."
Yes I remember it. But tonight, I didn't think I would have to remember it.
As I will now also have to remember this game, not as one of those sweet shining moments that gives us reason to hope and to hang in there and root for a team hoping to rebuild, but as a part of that ever increasing list of utter disappointments we saw coming but failed to believe would actually happen.
I feel like I've got to keep my friends on suicide watch. I can't even imagine what it's like at the stadium now.
That's enough for now.
No, that's enough for good.
-nait
Weekend Roundup
Well, I was working on this while watching the Bills game. Then it got interesting. Before it got devastating. Nevertheless, no point in wasting a post...
My Mondays usually have three steps:
1. Reluctantly wake-up, at least mildly depressed from another weekend of more boozing than constructive work accomplished, if not also from having to wake up to work.
2. Slowly pull myself together and not make more out of my partying than needs be made.
3. Ultimately get over it and go about enjoying my day.
Only today, my first two steps were far shorter than they normally were. The reasons, to me, were obvious. There was no way I would have guessed, especially after a Sabres loss on Friday, that I would have had my longest consistent laugh in recent memory.
But had I known that my friends and I would consider it a good idea to talk with stereotypical southern accents for over an hour (with Drew and Poose stealing the show), Chief would "round up" some sort of wagon with an extension cord, my friend Nick would be smooth enough to provide a consistent supply of stolen beers, Nick and Chief would slow Allen St down into only one lane with only two orange cones and their traffic directing abilities, and that we would collectively taunt (still in said southern accents) the girl working for Molson Canadian dressed up as a Mounty that was giving us free beers via some promotion they were running when she asked if she could borrow a cell phone, then yes, I would have definitely guessed it would have been a good night.
Once Saturday capped it off with a marathon bid pitch session, Pat riding Jay's bike inside of Merlin's (with Queen's "Bicycle" in the background of course) and a "long distance darts" session despite the constant buzzing of the "insert a quarter" sound, yeah, it was a good weeekend.
So even as I slept my Sunday away I couldn't help but not care. If a good time meant sleeping a whole day just to catch up, then sign me up ever time.
My Mondays usually have three steps:
1. Reluctantly wake-up, at least mildly depressed from another weekend of more boozing than constructive work accomplished, if not also from having to wake up to work.
2. Slowly pull myself together and not make more out of my partying than needs be made.
3. Ultimately get over it and go about enjoying my day.
Only today, my first two steps were far shorter than they normally were. The reasons, to me, were obvious. There was no way I would have guessed, especially after a Sabres loss on Friday, that I would have had my longest consistent laugh in recent memory.
But had I known that my friends and I would consider it a good idea to talk with stereotypical southern accents for over an hour (with Drew and Poose stealing the show), Chief would "round up" some sort of wagon with an extension cord, my friend Nick would be smooth enough to provide a consistent supply of stolen beers, Nick and Chief would slow Allen St down into only one lane with only two orange cones and their traffic directing abilities, and that we would collectively taunt (still in said southern accents) the girl working for Molson Canadian dressed up as a Mounty that was giving us free beers via some promotion they were running when she asked if she could borrow a cell phone, then yes, I would have definitely guessed it would have been a good night.
Once Saturday capped it off with a marathon bid pitch session, Pat riding Jay's bike inside of Merlin's (with Queen's "Bicycle" in the background of course) and a "long distance darts" session despite the constant buzzing of the "insert a quarter" sound, yeah, it was a good weeekend.
So even as I slept my Sunday away I couldn't help but not care. If a good time meant sleeping a whole day just to catch up, then sign me up ever time.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
TEG 10.4.07
Standings..W..L..GF....GA..Home..Away
Todd............2...1....13......8....0-1...2-0
Kevin...........2...1....11.......9....1-1....1-0
Chief............2...1......9......4....1-0....1-1
Chris............2...1......7......3....0-1....2-0
Pat...............2...1......5......7....1-1.....1-0
nait..............1 ..2......6......7....0-1.....1-1
Dan..............1...2......6....12....1-1.....0-1
Churchie.....0...3......2......9...0-2.....0-1
Week 2 Games
Chris @ nait
Chief @ Todd
Churchie @ Dan
Kevin @ Chris
Chief @ Dan
Churchie @ Kevin
Chris @ Todd
nait @ Chief
Todd @ Churchie
Dan @ Pat
Kevin @ Pat
Pat @ nait
Eighteen Month Sentence Served On a night when Chris Drury and Daniel Briere scored winning goals for each of their new respective teams, Buffalo fans might have needed a little something to distract them. And nearly eighteen months after the last game played, Bubble Hockey finally returned! And for all the traveling I had done in between, Thursdays just never felt the same. Not even this summer's Thursday in the Square felt right. Thursday had just lost its charm. On a rare good Thursday in the past year I remember once texting Church Nate "I forgot how much fun Thursdays could be." How I forgot just how much fun it was to know that on one given night you'd be amongst the best of your friends competing and hanging out I don't know. But I remember it now. I missed this and it's good to be back.
Last 1990's NHL Finds Bubble Hockey Home It was almost noticed immediately. Something didn't feel quite right about the length of the first game. And then the final stats started rolling in and it seemed all too obvious. The games may be cheaper now, but the games are also shorter as well. This will not only effect the likelihood of all-time records of being broken, but it more than likely also effect the number of high-scoring games, high shot totals and, perhaps most disappointing, multi-goal comebacks that we see. Also, more boring records such as the least SOG in a game (1) are suddenly more likely to be broken. There has never been a 1-0 game in league history (there have been 2 2-0) but, with this mid-1990's like dip in scoring, it may just be a matter of time before we see that.
Running Items Department, Four Goal Minimum: Another stat that immediately jumped out as being down was TEG's favorite rule that a team that scores four goals has an 80% chance of winning. The actual numbers for teams scoring four or more goals is 201-37: a .845% winning percentage. Teams that score exactly three times, just one goal less, fall to a mere .336 winning percentage, having gone only 37-73. The winning percentage for teams scoring even less than three continue the trend downward.
But this week, 4 goals were only scored seven times (out of thirty six) and there was only a single instance when both teams scored 4 or more, that being done in the second game, a 5-4 win for Kevin over Dan.
These stats do remain consistent with TEG's rule as teams went 83.3% of the time they scored four goals or more. But where it doesn't remain consistent is that out of those 246 previous games, 201 had at least one team score four goals or more. This week only saw 7 of 36, a 19.4% that is far less than the previously established 81.7% of the time.
Still, that isn't to say that there weren't any interesting stats this week.
Stats of the Week:
1. Kevin still never been shutout in league play, a streak that is now sitting at 81 straight games.
2. Todd became only the second team to shutout Dan. Dan was only shutout twice previously, both times by Colin.
3. Still on the topics of shutouts, there had been 22 previous shutouts in league play. In his first three career games, Chris had two.
4. nait was held, by Kevin, to a career low of four shots on goal in a game. nait's previous worst was 8, though Kevin has held teams to three shots three times in his career.
5. Chief fell one win short of the longest winning streak by an expansion team to begin their first season.
6. The record for most shots on goal in one game is 34. After three games, only nait (39) and Todd (35) have more than that.
7. This marks the first time there were no teams undefeated after the first week.
8. Teams shooting more than 20 times had previously been 52-13. This week they were 0-1. Only one team had more than 20 SOG!
Slowly Working My Way Back After a long lay off from the TEG column, I'm sure to need a little bit of time before I get back into the thick of things and have more stats and insights. As for a possible new name for TEG readers are encouraged to suggest one, as TEG is uncertain as to when exactly he will be writing this weekly and it is almost certain to not have the Thursday night consistency it previously had.
Todd............2...1....13......8....0-1...2-0
Kevin...........2...1....11.......9....1-1....1-0
Chief............2...1......9......4....1-0....1-1
Chris............2...1......7......3....0-1....2-0
Pat...............2...1......5......7....1-1.....1-0
nait..............1 ..2......6......7....0-1.....1-1
Dan..............1...2......6....12....1-1.....0-1
Churchie.....0...3......2......9...0-2.....0-1
Week 2 Games
Chris @ nait
Chief @ Todd
Churchie @ Dan
Kevin @ Chris
Chief @ Dan
Churchie @ Kevin
Chris @ Todd
nait @ Chief
Todd @ Churchie
Dan @ Pat
Kevin @ Pat
Pat @ nait
Eighteen Month Sentence Served On a night when Chris Drury and Daniel Briere scored winning goals for each of their new respective teams, Buffalo fans might have needed a little something to distract them. And nearly eighteen months after the last game played, Bubble Hockey finally returned! And for all the traveling I had done in between, Thursdays just never felt the same. Not even this summer's Thursday in the Square felt right. Thursday had just lost its charm. On a rare good Thursday in the past year I remember once texting Church Nate "I forgot how much fun Thursdays could be." How I forgot just how much fun it was to know that on one given night you'd be amongst the best of your friends competing and hanging out I don't know. But I remember it now. I missed this and it's good to be back.
Last 1990's NHL Finds Bubble Hockey Home It was almost noticed immediately. Something didn't feel quite right about the length of the first game. And then the final stats started rolling in and it seemed all too obvious. The games may be cheaper now, but the games are also shorter as well. This will not only effect the likelihood of all-time records of being broken, but it more than likely also effect the number of high-scoring games, high shot totals and, perhaps most disappointing, multi-goal comebacks that we see. Also, more boring records such as the least SOG in a game (1) are suddenly more likely to be broken. There has never been a 1-0 game in league history (there have been 2 2-0) but, with this mid-1990's like dip in scoring, it may just be a matter of time before we see that.
Running Items Department, Four Goal Minimum: Another stat that immediately jumped out as being down was TEG's favorite rule that a team that scores four goals has an 80% chance of winning. The actual numbers for teams scoring four or more goals is 201-37: a .845% winning percentage. Teams that score exactly three times, just one goal less, fall to a mere .336 winning percentage, having gone only 37-73. The winning percentage for teams scoring even less than three continue the trend downward.
But this week, 4 goals were only scored seven times (out of thirty six) and there was only a single instance when both teams scored 4 or more, that being done in the second game, a 5-4 win for Kevin over Dan.
These stats do remain consistent with TEG's rule as teams went 83.3% of the time they scored four goals or more. But where it doesn't remain consistent is that out of those 246 previous games, 201 had at least one team score four goals or more. This week only saw 7 of 36, a 19.4% that is far less than the previously established 81.7% of the time.
Still, that isn't to say that there weren't any interesting stats this week.
Stats of the Week:
1. Kevin still never been shutout in league play, a streak that is now sitting at 81 straight games.
2. Todd became only the second team to shutout Dan. Dan was only shutout twice previously, both times by Colin.
3. Still on the topics of shutouts, there had been 22 previous shutouts in league play. In his first three career games, Chris had two.
4. nait was held, by Kevin, to a career low of four shots on goal in a game. nait's previous worst was 8, though Kevin has held teams to three shots three times in his career.
5. Chief fell one win short of the longest winning streak by an expansion team to begin their first season.
6. The record for most shots on goal in one game is 34. After three games, only nait (39) and Todd (35) have more than that.
7. This marks the first time there were no teams undefeated after the first week.
8. Teams shooting more than 20 times had previously been 52-13. This week they were 0-1. Only one team had more than 20 SOG!
Slowly Working My Way Back After a long lay off from the TEG column, I'm sure to need a little bit of time before I get back into the thick of things and have more stats and insights. As for a possible new name for TEG readers are encouraged to suggest one, as TEG is uncertain as to when exactly he will be writing this weekly and it is almost certain to not have the Thursday night consistency it previously had.
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Tonight's Bike Ride, Part II: Do Nothing About It
If the best things in life are indeed free then what are we working ourselves to death for?
For me, it’s the desire for travel. To move around and stay in motion because that motion is a motion against the stability of the settling down I still swear I am against. I am aware of the possibility to do it as a hobo for no money at all, but I am also aware of a certain standard that I am still unwilling to compromise.
(And it is in having something to actually work for—Goddamnit—that ultimately prevents me from begrudging anyone who does work, whether it be for a home or a family or what have you, because we each have our carrot on the stick that we find worth working for. If nothing else, maybe I am just trying to chase a stick of celery, one I will salt the hell out of, instead of a the same carrot stick?)
And that’s why I still work: just for the possibility of going somewhere else again.
Yet it’s hard for me, even with that possibility lingering, because, besides having to tell myself I am not compromising my idea of doing nothing, when I work I pressure myself to be constructive with my time when I come home and if I am not I almost overwhelm myself with a sense of disappointment (with myself). But when I don’t work, I do not have that urge to do anything at all; only the desire to literally do nothing at all and find little disappointment with such a thing. Perhaps that is yet another reason why I grow so easily frustrated with the idea of work: it requires of me (thanks to internal pressure from myself) to do a specific kind of nothing instead of whatever kind of nothing I wish to do. It inhibits even my options of nothing.
And it’s always hard for me to do something specific (just to sit here and write this is usually difficult because I always know that I could be doing something else—I still haven’t hung up the picture my roommate drew of me sleeping on the couch; I could put my rear light back on my bike) because doing something specific is doing something. And vice versa, doing something is to do something specific. Or, doing nothing specific is doing nothing.
Like the Renaissance Man who is an expert in nothing but familiar with everything, I do not want to be tied down to one specific thing at any given moment. I do not need an expert to support what experience itself can show me and thus can find myself overwhelmed by all the options that are before me when I wish to do nothing at all.
By the end of my bike ride, my body was well exercised and my mind a bit more focused. I was glad to be riding in Buffalo but knew that I didn't plan on staying there forever. And I was even reassured that it would be alright for me to sit here for a short time and write out some thoughts, and even waste a few more months working, because it was by no means ever required to do so. Nothing specific ever is required for me to do. I just find myself thinking that it is sometimes and that's when I need to do nothing about it, like go on a bike ride. Then I find myself back at ease and in the moment of eternal nothingness.
For me, it’s the desire for travel. To move around and stay in motion because that motion is a motion against the stability of the settling down I still swear I am against. I am aware of the possibility to do it as a hobo for no money at all, but I am also aware of a certain standard that I am still unwilling to compromise.
(And it is in having something to actually work for—Goddamnit—that ultimately prevents me from begrudging anyone who does work, whether it be for a home or a family or what have you, because we each have our carrot on the stick that we find worth working for. If nothing else, maybe I am just trying to chase a stick of celery, one I will salt the hell out of, instead of a the same carrot stick?)
And that’s why I still work: just for the possibility of going somewhere else again.
Yet it’s hard for me, even with that possibility lingering, because, besides having to tell myself I am not compromising my idea of doing nothing, when I work I pressure myself to be constructive with my time when I come home and if I am not I almost overwhelm myself with a sense of disappointment (with myself). But when I don’t work, I do not have that urge to do anything at all; only the desire to literally do nothing at all and find little disappointment with such a thing. Perhaps that is yet another reason why I grow so easily frustrated with the idea of work: it requires of me (thanks to internal pressure from myself) to do a specific kind of nothing instead of whatever kind of nothing I wish to do. It inhibits even my options of nothing.
And it’s always hard for me to do something specific (just to sit here and write this is usually difficult because I always know that I could be doing something else—I still haven’t hung up the picture my roommate drew of me sleeping on the couch; I could put my rear light back on my bike) because doing something specific is doing something. And vice versa, doing something is to do something specific. Or, doing nothing specific is doing nothing.
Like the Renaissance Man who is an expert in nothing but familiar with everything, I do not want to be tied down to one specific thing at any given moment. I do not need an expert to support what experience itself can show me and thus can find myself overwhelmed by all the options that are before me when I wish to do nothing at all.
By the end of my bike ride, my body was well exercised and my mind a bit more focused. I was glad to be riding in Buffalo but knew that I didn't plan on staying there forever. And I was even reassured that it would be alright for me to sit here for a short time and write out some thoughts, and even waste a few more months working, because it was by no means ever required to do so. Nothing specific ever is required for me to do. I just find myself thinking that it is sometimes and that's when I need to do nothing about it, like go on a bike ride. Then I find myself back at ease and in the moment of eternal nothingness.
Tonight's Bike Ride, Part I: Any Road
With the continuation of summer that we are experiencing here in Buffalo I made the most of it tonight by taking an unplanned bike ride with no destination in sight.
I’ve been having a lot of thoughts running through my mind lately and a body in motion calms the mind.
The bike ride took me through some of the North Buffalo neighborhoods. It was a little after eight o’clock and there was still enough traffic and noise to remind me that I wasn’t in the suburbs though the houses and wide streets in the area certainly suggested the possibility. For a brief second I thought that, were I in the market as a homeowner—and my how I laughed at the idea of picturing myself being one, if not more than a little frightened that one day I will probably concede defeat and find myself begrudgingly mowing my lawn on a Sunday morning (because if you think I’m going to pay someone to do something that I can do myself you must be fucking crazy!)—this would be the sort of neighborhood that I would look for a home in.
But looking for a home is the very thing that someone who is doing something with their life would do. And I, a no one wishing to do nothing with his life, want nothing to do with that. At least not now.
In fact, many of my thoughts lately have dwelled on what I my next move is going to be.
I have been more than happy to be back in Buffalo. And I still have a lot of things to do that I wished to do in moving back. But at the same time it has also come to a point where it’s feeling a little weird being back here too. Perhaps some nouns—or people, places and things if I was taught correctly—that I found in Portland are missed more than I thought they would be; perhaps the idea that there are so many other nouns to be discovered everywhere; or perhaps even the idea of doing nothing only in Buffalo sounds static enough to me that I have begun weighing my options.
And thus, I keep working so as to have those options.
I’ve been having a lot of thoughts running through my mind lately and a body in motion calms the mind.
The bike ride took me through some of the North Buffalo neighborhoods. It was a little after eight o’clock and there was still enough traffic and noise to remind me that I wasn’t in the suburbs though the houses and wide streets in the area certainly suggested the possibility. For a brief second I thought that, were I in the market as a homeowner—and my how I laughed at the idea of picturing myself being one, if not more than a little frightened that one day I will probably concede defeat and find myself begrudgingly mowing my lawn on a Sunday morning (because if you think I’m going to pay someone to do something that I can do myself you must be fucking crazy!)—this would be the sort of neighborhood that I would look for a home in.
But looking for a home is the very thing that someone who is doing something with their life would do. And I, a no one wishing to do nothing with his life, want nothing to do with that. At least not now.
In fact, many of my thoughts lately have dwelled on what I my next move is going to be.
I have been more than happy to be back in Buffalo. And I still have a lot of things to do that I wished to do in moving back. But at the same time it has also come to a point where it’s feeling a little weird being back here too. Perhaps some nouns—or people, places and things if I was taught correctly—that I found in Portland are missed more than I thought they would be; perhaps the idea that there are so many other nouns to be discovered everywhere; or perhaps even the idea of doing nothing only in Buffalo sounds static enough to me that I have begun weighing my options.
And thus, I keep working so as to have those options.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Cloud Cover
I don't whether or not it's the impending weather change that suddenly has me talking about weather and weather related things, but yesterday I once again noticed that an awe inspiring imposing wall formation of clouds that seemed to stretch for miles inland was noticeable from the 290.
They appear to be just about far enough from my viewpoint that it would make sense that they are the clouds just coming off of Lake Erie just south of the city. I don't know how I never noticed this great view before I left, but this was the second time I've noticed this since I've gotten back and will be one I will continue to look for now whenever I have the chance.
Thankfully, the first time I saw them, my roommate snapped a pic of the view:
(photo by D. Magee)
They appear to be just about far enough from my viewpoint that it would make sense that they are the clouds just coming off of Lake Erie just south of the city. I don't know how I never noticed this great view before I left, but this was the second time I've noticed this since I've gotten back and will be one I will continue to look for now whenever I have the chance.
Thankfully, the first time I saw them, my roommate snapped a pic of the view:
(photo by D. Magee)
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Bills due...
Watching football is about as collective as this country gets in doing nothing together. (Or anything for that matter.) Rather than play our own pick up games or participate in any event that we can directly influence and are more than just a spectator in, we stand unified in saying that we would simply rather sit around and drink beer and watch others have the fun.
And while I would rather play my own pick up games, I do like the sound of hanging out and drinking beers with the possibility to crack each other up for at least three hours just as much. If not more.
And so, even though this Bills team is godfuckingawful (and I get shit for saying that) and I vowed to stop scheduling my entire Sunday around their games, I was nevertheless baited once again this past Sunday into watching them "play" all because of my addiction to said hanging out (our house is the central locale for Bills' road game get togethers).
It almost makes me long again for a town like Portland where if I did watch a Bills loss it would be over by 1pm and I had the entire day to reclaim those three wasted (pun intended) hours because I wasn't surrounded by an entire disappointed fan base.
Portland or Buffalo. Pluses and minuses. You win some and you lose some.
Except in Bills games. Then everyone loses.
Goddamnit.
And while I would rather play my own pick up games, I do like the sound of hanging out and drinking beers with the possibility to crack each other up for at least three hours just as much. If not more.
And so, even though this Bills team is godfuckingawful (and I get shit for saying that) and I vowed to stop scheduling my entire Sunday around their games, I was nevertheless baited once again this past Sunday into watching them "play" all because of my addiction to said hanging out (our house is the central locale for Bills' road game get togethers).
It almost makes me long again for a town like Portland where if I did watch a Bills loss it would be over by 1pm and I had the entire day to reclaim those three wasted (pun intended) hours because I wasn't surrounded by an entire disappointed fan base.
Portland or Buffalo. Pluses and minuses. You win some and you lose some.
Except in Bills games. Then everyone loses.
Goddamnit.
Blowin' in the Wind
If Buffalo wasn't already so self-conscious about it's weather reputation--not to mention the inevitable lawsuits that Buffalonians would certainly level against any signs of such change--I would suggest it should do it's best to rightfully claim for itself the title of "The Windy City" from Chicago.
I already knew that statistically speaking Buffalo is windier, but this has also been something that I've noticed the entire time I've been back, especially on bike. It seems that it is windy almost all of the time here. And not just breezy, but actually windy.
It certainly helps keep the air moving on yet another unseasonably warm day like today (unless you live on the east side of a duplex that faces north and south) but you can't prepare for how sharp it's going to get in the winter. Probably a lot worse in wind chill factor than Chicago.
As to why Buffalo is afraid to embrace anything that allows it to claim any sort of distinction, even if is supposedly bad whether (you really couldn't spin that into a positive in any way? How Buffalonian to be so easily defeated!), I would be surprised and confused about if only I needed to look no further than everywhere to see just how alike each of us is and just how negatively most react to even the slightest observed difference, if not an altogether supposed defect, we see in others.
As the old adage goes something like, I am the only one who can allow myself to be embarrassed. It's too bad Buffalo seems so embarrassed about being a cold weather city. Strange, but certainly human. But, whatever, let Buffalo continue to deny it's windy and cold reality. I however know it's best to ride a bike towards the east and preferably during the summer around here.
I already knew that statistically speaking Buffalo is windier, but this has also been something that I've noticed the entire time I've been back, especially on bike. It seems that it is windy almost all of the time here. And not just breezy, but actually windy.
It certainly helps keep the air moving on yet another unseasonably warm day like today (unless you live on the east side of a duplex that faces north and south) but you can't prepare for how sharp it's going to get in the winter. Probably a lot worse in wind chill factor than Chicago.
As to why Buffalo is afraid to embrace anything that allows it to claim any sort of distinction, even if is supposedly bad whether (you really couldn't spin that into a positive in any way? How Buffalonian to be so easily defeated!), I would be surprised and confused about if only I needed to look no further than everywhere to see just how alike each of us is and just how negatively most react to even the slightest observed difference, if not an altogether supposed defect, we see in others.
As the old adage goes something like, I am the only one who can allow myself to be embarrassed. It's too bad Buffalo seems so embarrassed about being a cold weather city. Strange, but certainly human. But, whatever, let Buffalo continue to deny it's windy and cold reality. I however know it's best to ride a bike towards the east and preferably during the summer around here.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Does This Bus Get Off at 82nd Street?
That said (re: the previous post), the bus rides home have given me a new, if not odd, reattachment to the city of Buffalo itself.
Most of my experience in public transportation has been in using it in other cities. In using it in my hometown for a change, it gives me that feeling of being somewhere new, someplace not altogether known to me. By no means is Buffalo ever going to be fully known to me (only a routine mindset would argue otherwise). And just by finding something that proves this point has been somewhat liberating.
As well, now, rather than riding a bike alone amidst enclosed cars I am personally exposed to the others around me. Even if no interaction takes place between them and I it is still a situation that enables the possibility of that personal routine to be broken. Not to mention one can always over hear conversations and those eternal laughs like the women across from me on the bus yesterday.
And lo and behold, I’ve even yet to be mugged or assaulted. In the city no less!
Perhaps a very romantic view of the situation, but one that has helped alleviate that routine that has been haunting me and given me the necessary boost to get me to be ready to consciously break that routine even more.
Most of my experience in public transportation has been in using it in other cities. In using it in my hometown for a change, it gives me that feeling of being somewhere new, someplace not altogether known to me. By no means is Buffalo ever going to be fully known to me (only a routine mindset would argue otherwise). And just by finding something that proves this point has been somewhat liberating.
As well, now, rather than riding a bike alone amidst enclosed cars I am personally exposed to the others around me. Even if no interaction takes place between them and I it is still a situation that enables the possibility of that personal routine to be broken. Not to mention one can always over hear conversations and those eternal laughs like the women across from me on the bus yesterday.
And lo and behold, I’ve even yet to be mugged or assaulted. In the city no less!
Perhaps a very romantic view of the situation, but one that has helped alleviate that routine that has been haunting me and given me the necessary boost to get me to be ready to consciously break that routine even more.
Labor Days
I cannot believe that September is already half over.
And that fall is only a few days away.
Nor can I believe that I’ve only posted eight times this months.
Time flies when you’re caught in routines.
Everyday I get up at seven.
But now, rather than getting to work via bicycle, I catch a ride with my friend Andy to work. And just having someone who is in a relatively similar boat as I am—he’s only working to save up and quit his job again next month—helps alleviate the otherwise stressful disdain I hold for work and reminds me that I am not the only one who is going to work every morning. Not to mention that I no longer have to worry everyday whether or not my bike will go flat.
Every night I go to bed at midnight or thereabouts.
And now at the end of every work day, due to our unstable workday schedules that makes me getting a ride home too much of a pain, I catch a bus ride home. And suddenly my entire day is much more at ease. For one, because the busses I can take home only come once an hour, there is little difference between 4:45 and 5:15 (both will get me the same bus) and thus time becomes less of a pressing thing: there is nothing I can do to make the bus come earlier or make it get me home any faster.
But I have consciously allowed myself to be in this position of routine.
Also, with such waiting times looming, I come prepared with a book to read while both waiting as well as riding and so have managed to bring an otherwise neglected as of late hobby back into my daily routine.
If it is routine that I despise so much about the workday, is it at least possible to alleviate that routine so that it is, even within the strict pillars of my times of sleep, not so predominate?
Still, at the end of each day, I find myself not riding my bike as much. As well, other things that I had set out to do in returning to Buffalo, or just little things to mix my days up a bit, such as taking more bike rides through the neighborhoods or hanging out with my friends every night have gone largely neglected. Hell, I’ve even been drinking less on the weeknights.
Even giving our tired bodies is a routine. If not the basis of most of it.
I understand I get into ruts here and there. Quite routinely actually. And I understand that I will not be able to go completely without working at the time. Still, I have my eyes set on working until I am comfortably set with enough savings to do so.
Routine thinking is also very evident in my day-to-day routine.
The important thing is to be sure to break out of these ruts and routine ways of thinking as quickly as possible and, if not immediately, to make sure they still do not dominate my entire day. To make such breaks takes a constant conscious effort. Because I've failed to do so lately, it is once again my intention to make sure to do something everyday that, even if it is the minutest detail, does not subscribe to such routine that keeps me from doing nothing.
Less I find myself suddenly a year from now again wondering where the latest September went and awaiting the routine of yet another seasonal change with no change to show for it myself.
And that fall is only a few days away.
Nor can I believe that I’ve only posted eight times this months.
Time flies when you’re caught in routines.
Everyday I get up at seven.
But now, rather than getting to work via bicycle, I catch a ride with my friend Andy to work. And just having someone who is in a relatively similar boat as I am—he’s only working to save up and quit his job again next month—helps alleviate the otherwise stressful disdain I hold for work and reminds me that I am not the only one who is going to work every morning. Not to mention that I no longer have to worry everyday whether or not my bike will go flat.
Every night I go to bed at midnight or thereabouts.
And now at the end of every work day, due to our unstable workday schedules that makes me getting a ride home too much of a pain, I catch a bus ride home. And suddenly my entire day is much more at ease. For one, because the busses I can take home only come once an hour, there is little difference between 4:45 and 5:15 (both will get me the same bus) and thus time becomes less of a pressing thing: there is nothing I can do to make the bus come earlier or make it get me home any faster.
But I have consciously allowed myself to be in this position of routine.
Also, with such waiting times looming, I come prepared with a book to read while both waiting as well as riding and so have managed to bring an otherwise neglected as of late hobby back into my daily routine.
If it is routine that I despise so much about the workday, is it at least possible to alleviate that routine so that it is, even within the strict pillars of my times of sleep, not so predominate?
Still, at the end of each day, I find myself not riding my bike as much. As well, other things that I had set out to do in returning to Buffalo, or just little things to mix my days up a bit, such as taking more bike rides through the neighborhoods or hanging out with my friends every night have gone largely neglected. Hell, I’ve even been drinking less on the weeknights.
Even giving our tired bodies is a routine. If not the basis of most of it.
I understand I get into ruts here and there. Quite routinely actually. And I understand that I will not be able to go completely without working at the time. Still, I have my eyes set on working until I am comfortably set with enough savings to do so.
Routine thinking is also very evident in my day-to-day routine.
The important thing is to be sure to break out of these ruts and routine ways of thinking as quickly as possible and, if not immediately, to make sure they still do not dominate my entire day. To make such breaks takes a constant conscious effort. Because I've failed to do so lately, it is once again my intention to make sure to do something everyday that, even if it is the minutest detail, does not subscribe to such routine that keeps me from doing nothing.
Less I find myself suddenly a year from now again wondering where the latest September went and awaiting the routine of yet another seasonal change with no change to show for it myself.
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