August 29, 2006 by MoPat.

I used to hate humidity, until I grew a little older and lived in a place that has none, or very little to speak of. People say of Arizona, “It’s a dry heat.” It is. And so is the blast that comes out of your oven when you open it to take out the cookie sheet. Membranes dry out, skin scorches, eyes holler for moisture. Little furrows form in the smooth places on your cheeks and chin and forehead. They become big furrows before their time.

In contrast, walking out of the Buffalo airport into the summer evening air usually yields a cool, soft, moisture-laden wisp or gust of wind, the scent of water in it such a contrast to the scent of dust I’m used to. It’s like walking through an invisible mister.

The times when the humidity is as high as the temperature in Buffalo are murder, especially if it doesn’t cool off at night. But that’s fairly rare, and I remember those times as special–my mom would bring the big box fan in to try to blow the hot air out of my little second floor bedroom window. It didn’t work, and it made a lot of noise, but God love her for trying.

My past dislike of humidity wasn’t just tied to discomfort, though; it was more tied to vanity. Humidity made my hair frizz.

Posted in Summertime | Print | No Comments »

August 20, 2006 by MoPat.

I don’t know what the things that pass for tomatoes in the grocery stores out west really are, but they sure as heck aren’t the red, luscious, fragrant, firm, juicy fruit that I remember canning with my parents or eating right from the baskets we bought in the country each summer. We’d travel just outside of Buffalo, where the houses were farther apart than they were in the city, and where trusting people left baskets or jars out for produce-buyers to drop money into. I miss the smell of those “real tomatoes.” I miss the taste and texture, the ripeness that arose out of rich, dark soil and someone standing in the evening light with a hose, patiently watering the vines.

How dare merchants use the same label for those pinkish, flavorless products heaped in mounds in the stores!

Posted in Summertime | Print | 1 Comment »

August 13, 2006 by LIZAinBUFF.

And as for eleven year old traveling by themselves to a foreign country on a bus, I also did that in the 70’s. I asked my mother about it 20 years later because I couldn’t believe she would allow us to do this. She said I conveniently left out the part about an unchaperoned bus and she thought we went to “Kenmore Days” with my friend’s father!

I approximate this adventure with the stories of the teenagers who meet someone on-line today and secretly take a plane half way around the world to meet them. Technology has upped the ante.

Posted in Summertime | Print | No Comments »

August 10, 2006 by LIZAinBUFF.

A “twist” is chocolate and vanilla frozen custard twisted together so it looks purdy. And, if you are from buffalo you know that ‘beef on weck’ stands for Roast Beef on a Kimmelweck roll with salt on the top. The coolest thing I’ve seen lately are the old sugar waffles and suckers from Crystal Beach which closed down at least a decade ago.

Posted in Summertime | Print | 1 Comment »

August 9, 2006 by MoPat.

I just realized I mentioned Anderson’s twice in the last two postings. I swear I am not a shill for Anderson’s. It just always tasted so GOOD, and it was such a special treat to go there.

I used to ride my bike the half-mile or so (could it have been a mile?) over there, twice a day sometimes, for ice cream. And I remember feeling really embarrassed when Barbie Cohen and I were about 5 years old, in the back seat of her dad’s car, and I whispered to her, “Ask your dad if he’ll take us to Anderson’s,” and then I saw him looking at us in the rear view mirror and knew he had caught me asking for something I shouldn’t have. (But I’m not sure why I felt I shouldn’t have. I guess because you weren’t supposed to ask anyone to spend money on you? Weren’t supposed to tell secrets? Weren’t supposed to be bossy to your best friend? I felt just awful. But her dad did take us to Anderson’s.)

Anyway, the old Sheridan Drive sign will be featured in the Missing Buffalo book (see a preview of some of the art work at www.mpkane-art.com). (Geez, looks like I’m three for three now.)

Posted in Summertime | Print | 2 Comments »

August 8, 2006 by MoPat.

My dear friend Sandy just was in WNY and we agreed that we Arizona residents really, really miss the change of seasons. Summer is the alive time in Buffalo, full of life and festivals and fun. It stays light late and everybody can play outside, even if they work all day in an office.

I’m dreaming of an Anderson’s hot fudge sundae, or lemon ice, or black raspberry or pistachio frozen custard cone. Sandy brought me a box of Macintosh toffee, shortened to Mack in this 21st century, but still tasting like summer days at Crystal Beach. Hard to believe that parents let us kids ride the bus from the Kenmore West and Kenmore East parking lots up to Crystal Beach on our own for Kenmore Day in Canada. Imagine: 11-year-olds with no supervision taking international excursions to a beachfront amusement park and being just fine with it!

Posted in Summertime | Print | 2 Comments »