Author Archives: Charlie Fashana

Doubles at Delaware

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Field of DreamsLike the ghosts from Field of Dreams that emerged from the Iowa corn fields to play pick up baseball, there’s a dedicated group of living athletes that make their way down the trails and through the trees to a secluded corner of Delaware Park each summer week for doubles volleyball.

Now I would consider myself a regular in the local (intermediate) volleyball scene, playing on different teams year round at places like IV Stallions in Cheektowaga, Rose Garden in Lancaster, and Nichols School in Hertel Ave’s backyard.  I’ve made a ton of friends and even impressed the 6’7” terror, Jay Josker, enough for him to honor me with my own twitter hashtag…which I, in turn, made into a tee-shirt.  flashandsmashMolly McDermid has adopted me as her own overaggressive middle hitter and sometimes we look like we know what we’re doing and other times it’s just silly.  The leagues are as fun as they are competitive, filled with bazaar team names, friendly trash talking and some intense rivalries.

So despite having a place in many indoor court and outdoor sand leagues, somehow, this summer doubles league, played on grass and so close to home, eluded me.  It wasn’t until the above mentioned Molly, who knows every volleyball league, court, ref and player in WNY, said I should come check it out and play on her team. So I did. And it’s glorious.

My first time playing I struggled a bit to find my footing.  Playing barefoot in the sand is a no brainer, but grass? It can go both ways. So I tried both ways. Surprisingly barefoot provides better traction than sneakers. It was also easy to adjust to having only one teammate as opposed to four or five. So now that I’ve got the beginner issues of where the hell is this place, what are the doubles rules, what do I wear, etc. out the way, I’m ready to make this regular habit.

Thom Burnett, organizer and Saranac neighbor, had a vision over 30 years ago that if he built volleyball courts in the middle of a grassy field, people would come play volleyball. I envision James Earl Jones saying “People will come, Thom. People will most definitely come.”

So my guess is that one day, he strapped on his canvas converse all-stars and set up shop.  He found an isolated green in the park, lined by trees and backdropped by the serene beauty of Hoyt Lake. Now, each week, the story unfolds the same way. People emerge, set up, play, break down, and leave. They play for the love of the game. It’s not about winning or losing (said the occasional loser). It’s about the friendships, the exercise, and the incredible privilege we Buffalonians have to play a game in the middle of an Olmsted masterpiece in the middle of our great city.

Is this heaven? No, it’s Buffalo.

volleyball1

Block Clubs: Not Just Beer & Bounce Houses

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I would say this blog demonstrates my passion for the North Buffalo community, and specifically, my neighborhood. But talking the talk (or blogging the blog) only goes so far. So, on May 30, I attended my first SCBA meeting. Translation: I went to Bertha’s for a block club meeting with the residents of Saranac’s central block.

happiness is a bounce house

Growing up as kid, I didn’t know much of block clubs – only block parties. I just thought block clubs provided a legitimate excuse to close off the street for a day, eat a lot of food and rent a bounce house. Turns out, there’s a shit-ton (yes, a shit-ton) of good that can come from these organized neighborhood gatherings. And for the record, you’re never too old to enjoy a good bounce house.

Some pleasant learnings and observations from our meeting:

We have a leader. His name is Vince. There was an agenda. Neighbors Joan and Justin own Bertha’s. Our District Common Council Member, Michael LoCurto, along with legislative assistant, Alyssa Weiss, actually attended. There was open dialogue, suggestions, minor complaining, agreements, and some occasional laughter between the residents and the city representatives. We discussed much needed sidewalk repairs (which I might add have begun and my driveway apron is being fixed as I type, courtesy of National Grid), tree trimming needs, plans and neighbor concerns for nearby Hertel Avenue businesses, development wishes for the former Korean United Methodist Church property, a block sale and even a wine tasting night.

In my initial, un-jaded opinion, it was a wildly productive meeting. I made my $20 donation for annual “dues” and was on my way.

Saranac Central Sign

I live across the street from this sign, and regretfully, it took me two years to attend my first meeting and meet some of my fine neighbors in person. I’ve been following the regular updates of the Saranac Central Block Association Facebook page for quite some time now, but just shook hands with Vince Gregory, the block president, a month ago. Social media is both a blessing and curse in this respect as it allows you to stay informed without actually engaging – somewhat defeating the tight-knit community concept. But for anyone who may be interested in starting a block club or joining a block club, I’d say the SCBA page is worth a follow, to see what an active and productive block club looks like. But don’t let “likes” be your only way of contributing to your neighborhood.

Much more to come as this relationship with SCBA grows…

Get BLOOMED!

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Maybe you were raised in a similar family (but probably not). If so, your Grandfather was a farmer from the old country who utilized nearly every square foot of his plot of land for flowers and vegetables. To him, horticulture was a science that required no teaching. It just came natural. So well in fact, his house was shown in Better Homes & Gardens magazine in the 60s. True story.

So let’s take it to the next generation. Your father would have what I call “landscaping OCD.” Not quite an illness, but an all-consuming urge to make the lawn look like Yankee Stadium and the flower beds look like the Botanical Gardens. I’d imagine this would be what nicotine addictions for smokers are like.

So where does that leave me? Shit. I can’t top that. But what I can do is try, and if lucky enough, I can get recognized with a Buffalo in Bloom designation, something my suburban family members can’t get – no matter how hard they try. Each year in the city, a troop of garden scouts troll the neighborhoods looking for well-manicured streetscapes. Standout front yards are given a B-I-B tag to proudly accompany their garden art. It’s like wearing the Captain’s “C” or getting a key to the city. I wonder if Terrell Owens ever got bloomed?

Bloom

2012 was our first full summer in our new house.  Call it our inaugural planting/gardening season.  After removing layers of bark chips, I began to cultivate the unfruitful beds by adding a solid mixture of top soil, Michigan Peat, compost and 5-10-5 fertilizer. 48 impatiens, a hosta and a daylily later, we had enough curb appeal to earn the coveted tag.

This year, it’s on. It was an active offseason for me, as I was scouting potential additions to the front and back yard. Beyond the return of perennial performing flowers, new prospects include a Japanese maple tree and a purple rhododendron. Time and the landscaping salary cap will tell but Vegas has us at 3-1 odds to repeat as Buffalo in Bloom recipients.

48 impatients 2012

BuffaLOVERS Unite!

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Buf-fa-LOVE [buhf-uh-luhv]

Noun

  1. A profoundly passionate affection for the City of Buffalo.
  2. A feeling of warm and personal attachment for the people, places, traditions, culture and history of Buffalo.
  3. A Western New York city toward which love is felt; beloved city.

Ex) Thousands proudly show off their BuffaLOVE by wearing t-shirts branded with a buffalo and heart logo.

Origin

Circa 2008. 42.8864° N, 78.8786° W. American English, Buffalo Slang. Early appearances of the word BuffaLOVE came on facebook posts and twitter hashtags, and of course, on clothing, turning the theme into an apparel sensation. Regretfully my research couldn’t trace ownership of the word to any individual or group.  My tip of the hat to the creative mind or minds behind it. It’s a pure and relevant way to convey the meaning of our local pride and state of mind.  A beer on me should our paths ever cross.

BuffaLOVE

BuffaLOVE has widely become part of many people’s vernacular, but now that I’ve formally documented the definition of the word it’s time we celebrate it and its meaning with a festival. It’s Buffalo, what else would we do? On May 31st, BuffaLOVERS will get an opportunity to break bread (and tacos) at the Buffalo Zoo as it hosts the BuffaLoveFest; a collection of all things Buffalo.

This inaugural festival came about through a good friend of mine, Tom Muraca, who concocted the idea during one of his many inspirational daydreams.  Through his involvement with the ProZoo board, the idea quickly turned into reality, as the zoo was not only a great venue, but they were eager to partner on the initiative. The BuffaLoveFest will feature everything from Buffalo music on two separate stages to a celebrity dunk tank!

Buffalovefest

I’d be remiss for writing this blog without planning to attend. I’m thrilled we have yet another reason for the masses to herd to North Buffalo. I expect to overindulge in food truck food and locally brewed beer (don’t worry, it’s a short walk home to Hertel), scream many incorrect answers to Buffalo Trivia questions, and just bask in the goodness that is a Buffalo festival.

So logistics. May 31st. Party starts at 5:30 p.m. and for those who wisely buy in advance, tickets are only $20 as opposed to $30 at the door. If you’re into adult beverages, NOTE, you will also receive two free drinks with your ticket purchase. HEYO!

Visit BuffaLoveFest.com for more info and to purchase tickets. See ya there!

The Story Behind the Design

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I can’t be alone. Among the thousands of pro-716 “BuffaLOVERS”, I think many of us have an unexplained affinity for the standing buffalo. An odd choice for a favorite animal, sure.  Especially for one that has no confirmed credit for the city of Buffalo’s name. But yet it’s slapped all over everything we love, from sports teams to street landscapes. So of course when Karen and I moved to the city, we immediately needed to adorn our new house with the burly image.

Enter New Buffalo Graphics, the standing buffalo capital of Buffalo.

The first piece that caught my eye looked like a pack of camel cigarettes. Closer inspection revealed creative detail with a purpose unrelated to smoking altogether. References to camel were replaced by buffalo both in writing and graphically. Cigarettes became clarinets and the subhead of Jazz & Geography Blend Clarinets brought it all together.

But what’s better is how those elements came about.

I inquired with Hertel Avenue shop owner and designer, Michael Morgulis (who I note is a former award winning Ad Club member), about his inspiration for this wildly interesting piece, and also (politely) demanded an explanation on how it related to Buffalo. He was happy to oblige, and went on to tell me about his days in the late 70s and early 80s where he would develop posters for the Just Buffalo Literary Center. Each poster announced an event, usually a poetry reading or other literary happening. In this case, poets and musicians from many geographical points around the country were coming to perform in Buffalo. It was sort of a rock concert, but with poetry and jazz.

He went on to tell me how the stars aligned at the 11th hour.

“So, there I was trying to meet deadline, up all night, drinking coffee and smoking one Camel after another, struggling to come up with the right combination of words and images. And then it was time to take my daughter to the Community Music School for her clarinet lesson. As usual, she complained that I smelled bad from smoking so much. So, I decided the only right thing to do was to listen to the wisdom and quit smoking then and there. All at once the elements of that moment coalesced. The sun came out from behind the clouds, the air was clear and I knew that the clarinet/cigarette rhyme and the “make music, not smoke” message was going to somehow be on the 17×22 piece of paper on my drawing board. I crumpled the pack of Camels with 3 cigarettes left, meaning to dump it forever… and then, in a double-take, uncrumpled the package, flattened it out and looked at it in an all new way.

I finished the poster in time and never went back to smoking. It was 1985.”

28 years later, it’s in my living room.