The Home of the Wing & 5 Ridiculous Things for Tonight's Game

Ah, Buffalo.  The word itself caresses the tongue.  Elegant?  Engaging?  Sure, all that and more.  Why else would it be the first stop on my voyage to marriage?  Should I explain?

I'll explain.

Nearly six years ago, my wife and I decided it was time to settle down for all of the sweet and wonderful reasons you might expect (she wanted Lazik surgery, my work has a family discount).  We talked about wedding options and came to the conclusion that we didn't want a "normal" traditional one.  Neither of us had any inclination to organize the ordeal, nor really to be the center of the spectacle (invite us to your next karaoke event, we hold up the walls nicely).

Like Buster Bluth, I excel at being neither seen nor heard

Above all, we didn't want to blow the cash on it.  Our preference, if money was to be spent, was to use it on a vacation.  So, planning began in order find an ideal place to take a trip in which we could allocate the better part of an hour (at most) to dealing with the legal formalities of wedlock, but otherwise enjoy the freedom of travel.  Yes, I'm quite a romantic.

Anyway, enter Buffalo.  Literally.

The final plan involved a jaunt into the hinterlands of Canada and its far superior side of Niagara Falls.  To get there, and to get home again, we needed an airport in which to start the adventure.  We picked good old BUF, due to its proximity to the border and reputation as a first class...something or other.

To jump to the end, we had a great time, got married, and still speak to each other to this very day!  Isn't that grand?  And, as a result of the escapade, I still have fondness in my heart for the great city of northern New York which welcomed us in as singles and sent us away all shacked up. 

Tonight, my (and your) Buffalo Bills are playing the New York Jets.  Strangely, this game between two NY teams is being held in neighboring New Jersey.  Why?  I don't know.  The east coast is weird.

Regardless, in celebration of tonight's footballing, I'm flashing back on my trip through the (looking...) Queen city.  Huh, that's much more majestic than what I thought it would be.  But, why not?  Cheers to them and their royal lineage!  You're way better than Rochester.  Trust me, that's a compliment.

• We landed in Buffalo and made our way to the car rental building.  Now, I've never been one to seek out some cool, high powered vehicle on my travels.  To me, for the most part, a car is just a means to get from A to B, and little else.  I figured we'd get some standard template sedan and be on our way.  That didn't quite happen.  In mid-November, we loaded into the auto-equivalent of an air hockey puck.  If there was any, ANY snow or ice on the ground (which thankfully there wasn't), I'm sure we would have pinballed right into the nearest waterway.   I mean, really Buffalo car rental people, you had this in stock?

Otherwise available on Matchbox tracks everywhere

• Soon we were on the road.  Driving from the airport towards the city, we scanned the surroundings.  I don't remember exactly what was said word-for word, but it was something to the extent of, um, "Wow, everything we heard about Buffalo is true."  I'm sure we meant that in a good way.  Of course we did.  Uh, let's move on.
• Into downtown we motored, checking out the sights.  There, in the center of it all, sat the home of the Sabres hockey team.  Did we stop there so I could strap on my skates and immediately find myself on the second line for that night's game?  No.  I could of, but had no desire to where that logo.  I do have some standards.

A slug with horns.  I think that's what the endtimes fortold

• A week later, after the wedding hullabaloo, a trip to Toronto and the hockey hall of fame, and more poutine than any responsible soul should consume, we hopped on the Peace Bridge back to the states.  It takes you from Niagara over to Buffalo.  But, on the Canadian side, before you leave, there's a duty free store. There, you buy your booze, and it is handed to you as soon as you're over the border and back in America again.  Basically, Canada is trolling us.  Are you guys leaving?  For Buffalo?  Here, take this.  You'll need it! 
• Finally, the wings.  Yep, the Anchor Bar is where "Buffalo Wings" became a thing, and we headed there before hopping back to the west coast.  I'd like to glamorize it and say they were the best things ever, but, well, meh.  I can't.  It's just chicken.  I felt pleased to have experienced an important spot in the history of cholesterol, but little more.  

There are other parts of the chicken, you know?!?

In the end, I came to Buffalo a single man, and left with a belly full of wings and a wife on my arm.  Being able to truthfully write that sentence trumps any wedding cake I could have possibly ever asked for.