On Feb. 11, 2012, I grabbed a shovel and cleared the sidewalk for the second time for the entire winter. It felt kind of good to do it too; you know what I mean? For months now the topic that saves all socially awkward situations -- the weather -- was like a record stuck skipping in the same groove over and over again.
Me: Wow, can't believe it's this warm out in November (or December, January or February).
Woman at convenience store: I was just saying the same thing; it's like we skipped winter and went right to spring.
Me: I can't remember the last time I wore short sleeves out in November (or pick any month since).
Guy at coffeeshop: I know, right? What are we now, like Florida?
I never thought I'd say this, but I really missed the snow. It's part of what makes us, us. Without snow our winters are like rushed sex in a coat-check room -- pleasant, sure, but nothing to make you contemplate getting rid of your king-sized bed.
The point is, it seems like we spend a lot of time around here wishing we were something other than what we are. If something is central to Niagara Falls, we immediately assume it's inferior to what they have elsewhere.
Our winters are normally really cool. We get snow, but not too much. It gets cold, but the mercury doesn't fall to sub-Arctic temperatures. The days start off short, but daylight grows each day past Dec. 21, until one day you're pleasantly surprised to see 6 p.m. arrive and find the sun still perched in the western sky.
Without snow this winter has been kind of a drag. Christmas was brown and ugly. There's been no pond hockey, no front-yard snowmen and no ice bridge below the falls.
Without the snow covering the yards and sidewalks, the city has looked older and more broken-down than usual. If this is the kind of winter that lured so many of our former residents to Carolina, then it's clear the Tar Heel State played them for the crud that is scraped off boot heels.
Adding to the depression about the lack of snow has been the transition of our Wilson Farms stores to 7-Eleven stores. Here's a news flash for you -- 7-Eleven stinks. They can't kiss the chrome on Wilson Farms' countertop.
Wilson Farms had better selections, better prices, a better color scheme and better employees than 7-Eleven ever will. Best of all, you could only find them here. Seven-Eleven's are like cigarette butts and losing lottery tickets -- you can find them hanging around on any corner, and your heart will never quicken a beat when you do.
Every time I pass a 7-Eleven standing where a Wilson Farms used to be, I'm reminded of those news stories when the last veteran of a foreign war passes away. It's just another link to our identity as a people that has been lost forever.
Military Road is like that now. There are lots of new restaurants and they are all packed with cars morning, noon and night. They're also all chains -- restaurants that can be found in any and all major (and not so major) cities from coast to coast.
Sure, it's great that Niagara Falls now has an Olive Garden, but can it really hold a candle to the Como, Fortuna's or Michael's? Their motto is, "When you're here, you're family." Sorry, General Mills (the processed food company that launched Olive Garden in 1982), but I think that Dom Colucci and his family have made more people feel that way at one location than you have at hundreds.
It's sort of like the new litmus test to see if your city has the very basic requirements to hover near the "cool" table in modern-day America:
"Olive Garden? Check. Applebee's? Check. Chili's? Check. Denny's? Check. Sonic? Sonic? Sonic? Sorry, Niagara Falls, you're closer, but here's your "kick me" sign, now if you'll kindly take a seat over there in loser-ville, thank you."
I'll take our collection of varied ethnic restaurants, all affordably priced, over a gaggle of blase chains any day. Just like I'll take our roads with no traffic jams, our movie theaters with no lines, and our malls where sometimes the fitness walkers outnumber the shoppers.
What I'd like to lose is this mentality that we need to be like every other cookie-cutter community in the United States. Just because we're poorer doesn't mean we're poorer in the areas that aren't tracked with a calculator or bankbook.
There is a reason why so many Niagara Falls-centric websites are populated with expats. It's because they found the job they were looking for elsewhere, but paid a hell of a price for it. They miss the culture, food, history and easy living of Niagara Falls.
They know firsthand that you can get a great steak in Atlanta, Raleigh or Phoenix, but you sure as hell can't get a Viola's Steak and Cheese. People in Miami, Denver or Los Angeles can become a big fish, but they can't get a decent Friday fish fry. You can slice your way to the top in Richmond, Las Vegas or Louisville, but you can't find a slice of La Hacienda pizza, and I'm willing to bet you can't find anything even close.
Tim Russert called Western New York "God's Country." He was bang-on. Aside from the lack of jobs, it is as perfect as America gets. More and more young professionals are realizing what a ground-floor opportunity the area represents and they are staying put. Their drive and talent will woo and create the jobs, and the next 50 years will look nothing like the exodus seen over the last half-century.
So don't think it odd if you find me cackling in a sea of white flakes this month. In this 7-Eleven, Olive Garden, cookie-cutter universe that passes for authentic living these days, I'm going to embrace the snow and hold onto one of the beautiful things in Niagara Falls that makes us, us.
| Niagara Falls Reporter | www.niagarafallsreporter.com | Feb. 14 2012 |