It's a Love Hate sort of thing, me and this holiday season, that is.

I guess it is such a dominating thing, that you can't help but think about what was. I always fret a little over doing the right amount for my kids. It always works out, but the self-inflicted stress over doing that and the imagined comparisons to the seeming magic tricks that my folks used to work annually for me and my siblings makes my head hurt sometimes.

Perhaps if it didn't try stealing Halloween's thunder on the shelves of Target and Wegmans (I'm sure there are others), Christmas wouldn't seem so looming. While I really would like to give the season the big old sloppy kiss it seems to command, a little pause comes. I sometimes get a little sad over the divorce and what those circumstances have done mostly to me, and how that makes you (well, me) pretty much everything. The demands of the office secret santa, the adopted family, the board functions, decorating for members, and the dreaded office party (I'm skippin) can make my chest feel tight sometimes. The office party--nothing like the parade of significant others to reinforce the sense of holiday bumhood. Dating life is picking up a bit, but not enough to subject anybody to the coworkers.

So, this isn't a currier and ives, rah, christmas post, but I'm still in favor of it, just have a bit of tom waits and bourbon where the unicorns and rainbows ought to be.

It really made me feel Thanksgiving got screwed in the holiday pecking order. I felt bad for the people who had to go report for work at 10:00 that night, because I'm pretty sure that if the stores opened for holiday shopping at 10:00 a.m. on Friday, people would still shop.

"We're hunting cwistmas twees....hehehe"

Well, enough Fudd-isms, as we no longer do such foolish things. But the day after Black Friday, before American Express sponsored it, used to be known as...Saturday. Quite the revelation, I know.

My older brother and our dad had taken to procuring a real honest-to-gosh Christmas tree for the folks' place on this mighty day. With the appearance of my lovely eldest daughter, I joined in the quest. When you have baby at home, suddenly tossing some lights on top of a six foot tall artificial plant that was there all the time, didn't seem to cut it. The boys had done their due diligence and found that Ulbrich's tree farm had a good selection of free range trees (A joke for those of who take shopping at the co-op too seriously). While the good folks at Ulbrichs had already had some on the lot already pre-cut and ready to be attached to your car, those were for the wimps, the candy-assed & generally inferior.

Okay, chances are those were also taken by the smarter people, but the real men, the hairy chested, not afraid of rear-wheel drive cars, drinkers in the good dive bars, went to get our own. Well, it was also cheaper to cut your own down as it saved the Ulbrichs folks from doing it. In our thriftiness, we also became snobs. That first one, that's a good one, but let's see what else is out there. My first escapade on this adventure had either my dad or I leaving a glove to mark a potentially worthy tree. From a distance it looked like the glove was giving us the finger. That system evolved as the old man made markers out of material, so we could TRACK the trees, as the good ones wouldn't stay where we left them.

The uniting factor in all this is that I think with one exception the weather was mostly crappy. It was raining one year and even the staff was looking at us like we were nuts, which truth be told, we probably were. Either rain, snow, or ground that mostly resembled walking on a fudge sundae, it was never ideal, but you came away with the right tree from the space. I don't think it mattered much to my kids where the tree came from, but it was an all too rare window in my brother's soul. He battles a variety of issues, but can tell you about each jaunt in remarkable detail, even though we stopped some years ago.

That is what I take away, when I read about people tsk-tsk-ing about the midnight shoppers Thursday night, or self-righteously shopping local because a credit card company told them too, I tend to think more about this kind of silly stuff. There wasn't a year that we didn't look like the Keystone Kops heading into the woods of Alden, and that was pretty cool.

That said, shop the local shops at the damn time, the Black Friday deals are marketing (as they pop up again and again, during the year and the season) and cyber monday? Click on the "watch" buttons and you don't have to do things because some smarmy marketer told you so. I say this as one of those smarmy marketers.

I mean seriously, I know some bars were opening back up Thanksgiving Night and all, but can you imagine being the guy who has to leave dinner to put his stuff on to head off for the 10 pm shift at Target?

There is a reason that people like Thanksgiving more so than Christmas, less constant pressure. This occurred to me, thinking of the poor devil who actually had the misfortune to need an essential, underwear, or whatever at the closest Target.

I mean, I understand, Friday is a day off for most folks and it's the season and all that, Remember when the season started at the civilized hour of, say, 10? There wasn't anything wrong with that. The bulk of the "incredible" deals often resurface during the season and even during the "mystery days" of Christmas, you know, that space between Christmas and New Year's.

I guess this all stems from me seeing the inevitable news piece of some poor slob who had to line up at 2 in the morning for the deal on a flat screen at some big box retailer, only to stumble and get trampled the moment the doors open. Nobody needs a new set so badly that they need to risk safety and regard for other people that way.

And I think that is at the heart of it for me. Christmas and I have had a love hate relationship over the past few years, mostly from my own odd belief that I wasn't able to do all that I wanted for my kids only to find out we were doing fine all along. Yet, the season actually is a "Season" with displays creeping into the Halloween racks at some retailers last month, before Halloween.

It is the one time frame where people generally act the way they should all year long, provided you aren't seeing them in a retail setting.

You want to embrace it, but it can sometimes be too big to get your arms around.

I got the call for ushering duty for the Sabres/Coyotes matchup. One of the cooler things about this duty, other than you really aren't working to hard, is the people watching fest that unfolds in front of you.

Part of the fun of this for me is watching the show get prepped as the Arena, er, Center gets itself ready for the 18,000+ visitors. Those of us in blue meet a little bit before the doors open en mass, get briefed on what might be happening and then it's showtime. I tend to be all over the building, but was dispatched to one of the corridors that faces the front of the place last night, so it was going to be little busier. And that was cool and from down on the main level, the game looks almost life size.

There is typically an hour from when the doors open to when the event starts and it is kind of cool to see people stream in. A couple of times last night, a couple of parents were bringing kids to their first game ever. And to see young eyes go wide as saucers seeing what they had previously only seen on tv was a kick. You can't help but smile watching somebody trying to soak everything in for the first time. The entertainment also comes from the little things, like how fast you make temporary friends (one guy worked for former employer of mine, to which another had some opinions of that employer's now jailed owner), to showing off your photo skills (telling a fan how to pose so we can get the picture of them, the logo on the ice and the scoreboard all in one picture), to explaining the significance of Milt Ellis to those unfamiliar (for reference, head over to www.staffannouncer.com for a primer on Ellis' importance). The topper for me was the beer vendor who recognized me from my days peddling cable from across the hall in the Adelphia Zone. In the intervening five years, I've at least changed places.

One of the folks in my gathering was sporting a jersey from the now-long defunct California Golden Seals, so I regaled him with the story that the Seals were the opponent for my first Sabres game, back when my eyes were wide from things other than the current bags. He told me how he knew of the team as they came with his table top hockey game as a kid. His wife looked at both of us and decided "You guys are old." She's right on that score.

A lot of my blue jacketed breathen have been doing this work since the Aud days so there isn't a huge amount of turn over, but you can see why. At only 30 some events, I'm still a newbie (hope to make the cool kids clique at some point). There is a little common-interest community going on there regardless how well or poorly the home team is playing. And why they stink at home is a bit of mystery. I think the other events are the price paid to talk hockey.

I wish I'd thought to score a ticket for Ray Davies tonight.

A few months ago, the Albright Knox took some less than good natured grief for putting on a small exhibition of Hockey photographs. It was during that Junior Hockey tourney after last christmas. A lot of pissing and moaning about the gallery compromising itself. While I not only enjoyed the exhibit, it was also brilliant as it got people to the gallery.

No small feat that. This occured to me as Number one Son and I plopped into a pair of seats at Kleinhans to hear the Buffalo Philharmonic perform the music of the Who. Always loved the Who, especially the early 70s records. There are a lot of symphonic elements to the recordings so it wasn't much of a stretch for a six piece rockband to join the orchestra. I was always curious how they staged these pop shows, keeping the rock band and the orchestra on the same page. The only guy who really had to work hard was the sound man to insure a decent mix between the two groups of musicians.

While mimicking parts originally done on synthesizers wasn't a whole lot of heavy lifting for the BPO, it was still kind of fun. It was a hits show to be sure. While the lead singer was a little smarmy, he had some good pipes for the music. He wasn't going to make anybody for Roger Daltrey, but he acquitted himself well. It was a kick to hear a guy a few rows behind me shouting out obscure Who tunes. And if they would have played "The Punk versus the Godfather" that would have been something. I remember tales of a BPO conductor some years ago stopping a show to admonish a coughing audience. The rules were lessened for us philistines.

But it was fun and it got some people to Kleinhans to hear some music, maybe even arouse a little curiosity about the orchestra and that is the cool part.

It's great to see the acoustically perfect place host a greater variety of shows, but it was also good to expose some folks to the main tenants too.

Some random notes now that I'm finally in a quiet time workwise.

I heartily agree with (e:Paul) 's assessment of the Connecticut Street Sandwich Company. I snuck over there a couple of days ago and the burger, chips and milkshake hit the spot. My stomach made yummy sounds all the way back to the Zoo.

Missed (e:ladycroft) 's shower because of work. In the midst of what would have been a four day weekend, I got yanked into my moonlighting gig at the Arena downtown. While working a hockey game is fun and my bank account needed it, I'm sorry to miss out on seeing the parents to be and other estrippers that it has been too long between visits.

On the upside, with a new bank pushing the old bank out of the Arena, I was able to turn in my tomato colored, flame retardant blazer for an equally ugly, but more practical fleece pullover thing. It is a different flavor of dorky, but a little more practical as it is cold in that place. The new hockey owner is doing something to make sure the ice is up to snuff, but that has lowered the temperature in the place. So, if you are going to something there, be prepared.

Halloween sort of came and went for me. We had the usual throng of folks at the Zoo so I was sort of spent by the time the revelary actually came. I did notice that now that number one is 13, I can't get away with the "Dad needs to inspect for safety" con. He just gave me a few kit kat bars to make me go away.

Working with aweber software for our electronic newsletter is the epitome of a love hate relationship.

Went out briefly with this woman I really liked in the first part of the fall. We had great times getting out, escaping parenthood but all the sudden messages stopped getting returned. I understand not going anywhere, not ready, not right time, but hell, to say nothing? That is just rude. Over 40 is too old to be that impolite.

Has anybody ever needed a head start to a left turn? Does that extra second make any sense?

New cupcake place has opened on Parkside, along with the new Spot on Hertel, perhaps Paul should snag Hertelstrip.com too.

When the home team stinks up the joint as a whole like the lads did on home ice, we moonlighters have a little time to watch the little things.

I was grateful to trade in the polyester blazer from the previous bank for blatantly blue, almost azure, of the new bank’s pullover, an infintely more practical change.

While the drinkers still astound me, it was a treat to watch a couple of different sets of parents bring little kids to their first games. The kids in both cases were old enough to know where they were and what they were about, but young enough to be unable to hid the joy of being there. You have to be made of stone not to find that heartwarming. You know at least a few folks weren’t sarcastic in their wave appreciation.

The new daiquiris come in some pretty interesting colors.

The pizza did look pretty good, from a distance, but I’m not sure what will make it artisian, hopefully that is a step from, well, bad.

Hopefully, the guys who came in Sabres costumes get a little better next time out.

Hope everybody had fun at the 24 Halloween party and (E:Ladycroft)'s baby shower. Work and reasons domestic got in the way of both for me, but I still have two days left of this long weekend, so we're gonna make the best out of it.

With my job, I move with a diverse group of folk when getting out of the office. The ones in the office are pretty cool too, but the nature of what we do has you mixing with a number of different publics. One of my favorite on-going collaborations is with the good folks at Visit Buffalo Niagara. The former CVB took a lot of grief from internet wags about their "Buffalo: For Real" slogan and that is unfortunate because it doesn't really touch on the big picture of this weirdly, wonderful pace we call home. They do tremendous work getting people to come see the place, but something struck me in watching the various reports, tweets, stories leading up to the premiere of "Buffalo:Unscripted," the documentary about life here.

A lot of folks here don't venture beyond their own self-inflicted boarders a lot and you need to play tourist in your own backyard now and again. There is a lot happening, but sometimes you have to be curious enough to go get lost. It's been on my mind a lot as we try to find the right mix to get folks to come see what we've been up to at my place of employ.

Wanderlust is in invaluable thing. My folks still live in the house that I grew up, but that neighborhood is shifting and the bulk of the landed immigrants are younger than me and more than once I've heard the comment about "Coming all the way out from the city." Like to get to Clarence from where I reside in the city, you had to stop in Cheektowaga for rest and provisions before completing the journey.

The key to seeing the big picture is to know some things and not care about others, and to occasionally try something new for the heck of it. Stride into Gigi's on the east side and you know what evil, what torture, what torment you'll face? A breakfast that will make you wonder where it's been all your life. I don't know how many trips I've taken down Niagara Street on various missions over the years, but had to remind myself to go explore Squaw Island on a early September afternoon. It was a left turn worth taking.

Between Buffalo: Unscripted and the National Preservationist Gathering, there is a upshot of feeling that we do indeed have some pretty good stuff around in these parts. What I take away is the feeling that people are looking around a little more, which hopefully means less of "I haven't been there (zoo, museum, fill in attraction here) in years." And, you know, hopefully, you start with the Zoo, just sayin."

So, I hope the preservationist conference attendees go back to their homes and talk about what they found, but hopefully the resounding energy of discovery can translate into somebody from Hamburg curious to see the evolution of Canalside or at least lunch at the Niagara Cafe, or gasp, even a little christmas shopping on Elmwood or Hertel. And then maybe dinner in Blackrock!

Imagine.

It's an epidemic, I tell you. All these buildings are throwing themselves in front of senior citizen drivers. Apparently it is a call for more drive through lanes. Just to be safe, I'm going to park behind the folks car when I go visit next.

As I write this, the Sabres are 2-0, the Bills 3-1 and it is 75 degrees on an October day in Buffalo. I can't help but wonder if some other Rust Belt city lost a bet.

I'm beginning to think that people watching the people occupying Wall Street might have a complete grasp as to why the original occupiers (occupiees?) showed up in the first place.

And speaking of capitalism faux paws (intentional), I can't fathom the logic in some "entity" chasing the Whole Hog Food truck away from the Bidwell Farmers Market last saturday. If it was a market-eer, maybe they would be some of your Kale for their awesome breakfast sandwich if you weren't sticking the cops on them. If it was another restaurant, then shame on you. Make good food and people will come to your place. There are plenty of stationary competitors too. Do good work and people will come. People are buying from these rolling merchants because the stuff is good quality. That might be a key, doncha know?

Back to the Wall street stuff for a moment, Peter King is quoted about not wanted to give the movement legitimacy. Well, Congressman, people are upset and making their voices known. Ain't that a good thing? Isn't that what a democracy is supposed to be about? People need heard. When the main republican leadership is and has been nothing more than to take down the President, the democrats mealymouth their way around so it isn't clear what they stand for and the executive branch spends a lot of time just trying to be liked, and none of them are representin', yo, people are going to get ticked.

On more mundane matters, I'm curious to see the new films on Paul McCartney and George Harrison, despite both having mixed reviews. Always liked the music of both guys and the possibility of learning a little more is intriguing, but not enough to sign up, even temporarily, for either pay channel they were getting shown on. I've always been a more "trust the art, not the artist" guy, so I've never really had a handle on those who fling themselves on the cars or things like that, but seeing what might have gone into building a portion of my life's soundtrack is a curious thing.