Buffalo

Bus ride down from Toronto was uneventful — as far as these rides typically goes. Bunch of Jewish camp kids. A lingere model and a few Russians. A Falun Gong practitioner got pissed at how long the border crossing was.

“We’re late,” she said to the bus driver.
“Tell the Customs Agents to hurry up,” he shrugged.
She said nothing and went back to her excerises.

A long layover in Buffalo to “catch” the bus to Erie, PA — two hours. Actually my bus to Buffalo arrived early and it became a three-and-a-half hour layover. I walked a three-block perimeter around the coach terminal and all of Buffalo is empty buildings and above ground parking lots. It’s like the movie “Twenty-Eight Days Later.” Magnificeient buildings everywhere and not a living soul in sight. All empty. Nothing open. It’s as if the inhabitants decided collectively to all go to a better place. (NYC?) All I wanted was breakfast. Buffalo is so inadequate.

Met a man smoking. He told me his story. He drove all the way from Toledo to give a brand new car to his son who just graduated from high school. Drove it all the way to Albany and now, he needs to take the bus back to Toledo. The man was proud of his son. But cautious. He told his son to go to college, but to take it easy.
“I don’t care if it takes him 6 years to finish junior college,” he said, “just don’t get burnt out.”

Great dad, I suppose. Don’t know if I’d every say that to my kids. But then, different background and different values, I suppose.

Hopefully in Erie, there will be breakfast.

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