Its that time of year when inviting delicious smells permeate your decorated home as you struggle to enjoy the holidays with the minimal amount of sweat, stress and tears.
Most people open the refrigerator and voila---a succulent turkey all seasoned, dressed and maybe garnished with a little greenery and cranberries. I open our freezer door and out plops a dead skinned raccoon and opossum. Trust me, its the honest-to-God truth. Luckily they both just missed my arthritic toes and I was able to limp hysterically over to my trapper/hunter/fisherman of a husband and shove the rodent relatives under his nonchalant nose.
These butchered carcasses and near mystery meat were touching my precious frozen strawberries---whats the big idea?
Poor people have to eat too, he stated matter-of-factly.
We have your monthly pension and Social Security, so what do you mean poor?
I dont hear you mentioning about your writing loot? he was so quick to add.
Shh, not so loud. Big Brother may be listening. Do you want the Internal Revenue Service knocking down our door?
Why the hell not? Everybody else you know does.
Dont try to sidetrack me; were talking about road kill in my freezer.
Its not road kill, I trapped it and cleaned out their guts with these very hands.
Dont think youre getting near me tonight, I mumbled.
I dont know, he sighed, but the older I get the more I only have the strength to pet a opossum.
Whats a wife supposed to say to that? The little voice inside my disturbed head whispered, Shut-up and dont say anything, and for once I listened.
He leaned back in that darn easy chair thats glued to his behind, and with his chest all puffed out like he was about to deliver a commencement speech at Harvard or something, he explained.
Met two fishermen brothers from the deep south a while back and they told me that every year round Christmas time, they always get a hankerin for roasted raccoon and opossum pie. Our Mama always cooked em up whenever good fortune smiled down upon us. Those were their exact words, whenever good fortune smiled down upon us. Sounds too damn sugary for me, but wouldnt you know, there was a catch in their voices when that said that, so I thought, what the hell
I never knew that you could be so sentimental toward strangers who are from a different time, place and culture. Thats really the Christmas spirit and how wonderful it would be if that feeling could linger year round.
Well it cant! he scoffed. Im just not he type, and all the nagging in the world isnt going to change that.
Well, at least for the second you were kind and giving to the least of your brothers.
If people were more self-contained they could live off the fatta the lan and then every day could feel like Christmas for them, he grunted.
Yes, but that feeling is not for you, because youre not the type, remember?
Damn right. Hell, thats the first time Ive ever admitted that to you, so consider it your Christmas present.
Intangible presents are the best, but it sure would have been nice if you had wrapped it with tenderness, I sighed.
Were not talking Christmas miracle here, woman, be grateful for what youve got.
Right now theres no coon and opossum in my freezer, so Im very grateful for what I dont have.
Happy Christmas and blessed New Year, to my faithful following.
To read Karens previous articles, please visit her blog at homegrownharvard.blogspot.com
Tuesday, December 22. 2009
Remembering A Great Man
In collecting pictures and articles for poster boards and a DVD remembering my Papa at his recent wake and funeral, I found out so much about a man I had known for 22 years of my life, but never really knew.
I knew that his favorite color was blue. My grandma and him use to do the Word Game in the paper everyday. At their respective spots at the kitchen table there would be long lists of words that they would then say to each other tallying points if one had the word when the other didnt. When he had time he would also try his hand at the Cryptoquip. I never understood that one. Papa would religiously flip through the newspaper and read every article, saving the paper for weeks after or if he didnt have the time to read one article.
He was grounded in his faith, he never waivered on it. He never gave up on his faith, even though he could have had reason to considering all of the ailments he faced and endured, and always told his children and grandchildren to go to church and never let our faith and belief dwindle.
I knew that when I was little I use to play beauty shop with the little hair that he had then, which no thanks to me probably dwindled at a faster pace. When a special or television show came on and we couldnt tape it at home I called Papa to ask if he could tape the show for me so I could watch it at a later time.
If the weather was going to be bad the next day he would call us and warn us to dress warmer or be safe on the roads. If he had read something in the newspaper that pertained to us and our safety he would clip it out and save it for us. My Papa had two girls and two granddaughters. He never complained. He took it upon himself to protect us. My Aunt Dawn, cousin Brianna and I were grandmas girls. My mom was a daddys girl.
Five years ago my cousin, Jake, was born and finally he had someone to bond with besides my mom.
He would make things for us out of wood. Papa constructed a manger for my mom, did various house repairs and built anything that he could. While he constructed it, my grandma would paint it. Together they were an unstoppable team. He saved everything and just when the right moment came along or something needed to be fixed he knew where that perfect item to help in the repair would be. He could fix anything and everything. My Papa made signs for my stepfathers bar, Legends, and for various politicians. He made Just Married signs for many people and milestone birthdays. I always wanted him to construct a manger for me.
My Papa never spoke ill of people. He took individuals for what they were and never tried to change them. He never gossiped.
Papa was one of those special individuals that you always hope could be your father. He was someone all men should emulate. He was patient, gentle and kind and spoke few words, but they were potent and meaningful. Papa was one of those last remaining men who had that classic chivalry and respect surrounding him. He grew up with the old school thinking. When he told stories about his mischievous days or the days of his youth when he was having times he would get this elfish grin, the grin that Jacob has.
When I was little I was always over at their house, them babysitting me. When I was in school and had a winter break or a day off from school or summer vacation, I went to their house. On days when they had to go to the Indian Reservation to purchase cigarettes for the entire family they would take me on the jaunt to Akron where we would eat at the adjacent restaurant. On the way there and back we would play animal, vegetable, mineral.
Those are just a few things
In a newspaper article out of the Courier Express, in which his father worked at, showed the graduation picture of my Papa along with a write up regarding his extracurricular activities and future. I knew he went to Bishop Timon, but I didnt remember that bit of information.
I also never knew that Papa was on the schools bowling team, just that he bowled when he was younger. I was on my schools bowling team. I never knew he was a member of the schools photography club. His father was into photography.
At the bottom of the article it said he would either attend UB or Canisius studying either electronics or journalism and that he would work the summer at the Central Terminal.
My Papa had always told me to go into pharmacy. I would make a lot of money and that was the up and rising job at that moment. I never listened to him. Writing was my passion and so I went to Medaille College to study journalism. Never in a million years did I think that my Papa would even consider going into the field of journalism. When I read that he was thinking about it I was bittersweet.
I wish that he had told me that he wanted to be a journalist. I didnt know that we shared that. I didnt know that we were a lot similar then I thought we were.
There were many things that I never knew about my Papa that I wish he had told me before I had to find out when it was too late. I would have asked him many questions. Now I wont get the chance to.
Since I didnt go to school to become a pharmacist I always thought my Papa was upset at me, or not proud of me. That was not the case. Deep down I knew that he was proud of me but I didnt know to what degree. So many people came up to me during the funeral to tell me that my Papa always bragged about my accomplishments. He saved many of my articles for me to take home and to show to people.
Looking through the pictures I saw that my Papa was someone else entirely before he met my grandma. I only picture Papa with our family. Its difficult to see him as anything but a part of our family and see him in his younger days without us all there.
Its a sad thing when people dont get to know certain things about their family members. So now, during the holidays when family surrounds you, ask those questions, take notes. There were some questions I asked that Im glad I did, but some that I just never thought to ask before it was too late. Learn from my mistakes and learn everything you can about your loved ones.
I knew that his favorite color was blue. My grandma and him use to do the Word Game in the paper everyday. At their respective spots at the kitchen table there would be long lists of words that they would then say to each other tallying points if one had the word when the other didnt. When he had time he would also try his hand at the Cryptoquip. I never understood that one. Papa would religiously flip through the newspaper and read every article, saving the paper for weeks after or if he didnt have the time to read one article.
He was grounded in his faith, he never waivered on it. He never gave up on his faith, even though he could have had reason to considering all of the ailments he faced and endured, and always told his children and grandchildren to go to church and never let our faith and belief dwindle.
I knew that when I was little I use to play beauty shop with the little hair that he had then, which no thanks to me probably dwindled at a faster pace. When a special or television show came on and we couldnt tape it at home I called Papa to ask if he could tape the show for me so I could watch it at a later time.
If the weather was going to be bad the next day he would call us and warn us to dress warmer or be safe on the roads. If he had read something in the newspaper that pertained to us and our safety he would clip it out and save it for us. My Papa had two girls and two granddaughters. He never complained. He took it upon himself to protect us. My Aunt Dawn, cousin Brianna and I were grandmas girls. My mom was a daddys girl.
Five years ago my cousin, Jake, was born and finally he had someone to bond with besides my mom.
He would make things for us out of wood. Papa constructed a manger for my mom, did various house repairs and built anything that he could. While he constructed it, my grandma would paint it. Together they were an unstoppable team. He saved everything and just when the right moment came along or something needed to be fixed he knew where that perfect item to help in the repair would be. He could fix anything and everything. My Papa made signs for my stepfathers bar, Legends, and for various politicians. He made Just Married signs for many people and milestone birthdays. I always wanted him to construct a manger for me.
My Papa never spoke ill of people. He took individuals for what they were and never tried to change them. He never gossiped.
Papa was one of those special individuals that you always hope could be your father. He was someone all men should emulate. He was patient, gentle and kind and spoke few words, but they were potent and meaningful. Papa was one of those last remaining men who had that classic chivalry and respect surrounding him. He grew up with the old school thinking. When he told stories about his mischievous days or the days of his youth when he was having times he would get this elfish grin, the grin that Jacob has.
When I was little I was always over at their house, them babysitting me. When I was in school and had a winter break or a day off from school or summer vacation, I went to their house. On days when they had to go to the Indian Reservation to purchase cigarettes for the entire family they would take me on the jaunt to Akron where we would eat at the adjacent restaurant. On the way there and back we would play animal, vegetable, mineral.
Those are just a few things
In a newspaper article out of the Courier Express, in which his father worked at, showed the graduation picture of my Papa along with a write up regarding his extracurricular activities and future. I knew he went to Bishop Timon, but I didnt remember that bit of information.
I also never knew that Papa was on the schools bowling team, just that he bowled when he was younger. I was on my schools bowling team. I never knew he was a member of the schools photography club. His father was into photography.
At the bottom of the article it said he would either attend UB or Canisius studying either electronics or journalism and that he would work the summer at the Central Terminal.
My Papa had always told me to go into pharmacy. I would make a lot of money and that was the up and rising job at that moment. I never listened to him. Writing was my passion and so I went to Medaille College to study journalism. Never in a million years did I think that my Papa would even consider going into the field of journalism. When I read that he was thinking about it I was bittersweet.
I wish that he had told me that he wanted to be a journalist. I didnt know that we shared that. I didnt know that we were a lot similar then I thought we were.
There were many things that I never knew about my Papa that I wish he had told me before I had to find out when it was too late. I would have asked him many questions. Now I wont get the chance to.
Since I didnt go to school to become a pharmacist I always thought my Papa was upset at me, or not proud of me. That was not the case. Deep down I knew that he was proud of me but I didnt know to what degree. So many people came up to me during the funeral to tell me that my Papa always bragged about my accomplishments. He saved many of my articles for me to take home and to show to people.
Looking through the pictures I saw that my Papa was someone else entirely before he met my grandma. I only picture Papa with our family. Its difficult to see him as anything but a part of our family and see him in his younger days without us all there.
Its a sad thing when people dont get to know certain things about their family members. So now, during the holidays when family surrounds you, ask those questions, take notes. There were some questions I asked that Im glad I did, but some that I just never thought to ask before it was too late. Learn from my mistakes and learn everything you can about your loved ones.
Thursday, December 17. 2009
Down At The House
By: Karen White-Walker
Why didnt somebody ever tell me? They should have told me. But no, there I often sat at Mamas and Papas house, sometimes stewing in some corner over a new pimple that had maybe popped out that morning, or crestfallen because some greasy headed new boy I had just met showed no signs of finding me absolutely irresistible---blemishes and all. So introspective was I that I couldnt look beyond myself and realize that Mama and Papa and all the gang wouldnt always be there.
See you down at the house, my aunts and uncles would say, and that indubitably meant my grandparents place. They descended in droves, like starving jackels on some carcass, craving Mamas homemade sauce, and hungering for each others company. You could always spot the in-laws---they didnt display near the enthusiasm that Papas and Mamas off-spring did, in fact, the outsiders looked like they could use a good tonic. Okay, Ill say it, a good strong laxative. That was also the carefree pre-terrorists era, but some of the in-laws looked like, well, they looked like hostages.
You could at least PRETEND youre enjoying yourself, one of my blood relative uncles would warn his snooty wife.
I can just sense that they dont like me, she whined.
Over the years you have pulled a few whoppers.
Yeah, like marrying you! Were not staying long, she warned, So dont get too comfortable.
Well see about that. Just remember, I have the car keys, and hed dangle them in front of her uppity nose.
Their Dance of Anger never varied. Their marriage endured 41 years, so they had to have had something going between them.
Above all the laughing and yelling I can still hear the horseshoes clanging while the dusty earth kicked up and powered their so easy-on-the-eyes faces. Some were more handsome than others, but really, not an ugly looking one was in the bunch. Come evening the men would get out the Pinochle cards. Uncle Giuseppe would be a partner with normally soft-spoken Uncle Tom, and theyd be pitted against Uncle Calogeo and Uncle Ted ---no big deal until Uncle Giuseppe started bidding all the way up to 45. With trembling hands Uncle Tom would lay down his lousy five meld, Uncle Big Mouth, his puny two meld and thats when Uncle Toms vocal cords got their weekly workout.
We have a whole seven meld between us! yelled Uncle Tom, and even if we got all 25 tricks that only totals to 37. Like a big shot, you bid up to 45. What, you cant count, knucklehead?
Neither can you. That totals 32 NOT 37.
You got me all crazy and nervous inside. Even before the first card is played, were done, finished, kaput! Im NEVER playing with you again!
Never lasted until the following Sunday night when once again we all met down at the house. Never became a reality until heartbreakingly their generation just faded away---done, finished, kaput! And guess what? My generation is next. Why didnt somebody tell me it would happen so soon? They should have told me---Im telling you---savor every second. You probably will for the moment, but then youll forget. People always do.
To read Karens previous articles, please go to http://www.homegrownharvard.blogspot.com
Why didnt somebody ever tell me? They should have told me. But no, there I often sat at Mamas and Papas house, sometimes stewing in some corner over a new pimple that had maybe popped out that morning, or crestfallen because some greasy headed new boy I had just met showed no signs of finding me absolutely irresistible---blemishes and all. So introspective was I that I couldnt look beyond myself and realize that Mama and Papa and all the gang wouldnt always be there.
See you down at the house, my aunts and uncles would say, and that indubitably meant my grandparents place. They descended in droves, like starving jackels on some carcass, craving Mamas homemade sauce, and hungering for each others company. You could always spot the in-laws---they didnt display near the enthusiasm that Papas and Mamas off-spring did, in fact, the outsiders looked like they could use a good tonic. Okay, Ill say it, a good strong laxative. That was also the carefree pre-terrorists era, but some of the in-laws looked like, well, they looked like hostages.
You could at least PRETEND youre enjoying yourself, one of my blood relative uncles would warn his snooty wife.
I can just sense that they dont like me, she whined.
Over the years you have pulled a few whoppers.
Yeah, like marrying you! Were not staying long, she warned, So dont get too comfortable.
Well see about that. Just remember, I have the car keys, and hed dangle them in front of her uppity nose.
Their Dance of Anger never varied. Their marriage endured 41 years, so they had to have had something going between them.
Above all the laughing and yelling I can still hear the horseshoes clanging while the dusty earth kicked up and powered their so easy-on-the-eyes faces. Some were more handsome than others, but really, not an ugly looking one was in the bunch. Come evening the men would get out the Pinochle cards. Uncle Giuseppe would be a partner with normally soft-spoken Uncle Tom, and theyd be pitted against Uncle Calogeo and Uncle Ted ---no big deal until Uncle Giuseppe started bidding all the way up to 45. With trembling hands Uncle Tom would lay down his lousy five meld, Uncle Big Mouth, his puny two meld and thats when Uncle Toms vocal cords got their weekly workout.
We have a whole seven meld between us! yelled Uncle Tom, and even if we got all 25 tricks that only totals to 37. Like a big shot, you bid up to 45. What, you cant count, knucklehead?
Neither can you. That totals 32 NOT 37.
You got me all crazy and nervous inside. Even before the first card is played, were done, finished, kaput! Im NEVER playing with you again!
Never lasted until the following Sunday night when once again we all met down at the house. Never became a reality until heartbreakingly their generation just faded away---done, finished, kaput! And guess what? My generation is next. Why didnt somebody tell me it would happen so soon? They should have told me---Im telling you---savor every second. You probably will for the moment, but then youll forget. People always do.
To read Karens previous articles, please go to http://www.homegrownharvard.blogspot.com
Wednesday, December 9. 2009
The Sanctity Of Sex
By: Karen White-Walker
My grandparents, parents and I all read your column, exclaimed the young man. Thank them and thank you, I humbly smiled.
Theres more, he rambled on. My grandfather said hed divorce you in a New York minute if you were his wife because
Hold it right there, Big Mouth. Id rather not hear why. Its taxing enough that I have to deal with one mans opinions, I dont need two.
Its a rewarding feeling to know that this column seems to transcend all ages, but now the pressure is really on because what subject (s) can possibly appeal to everybody? Ive got it! Sex. Boy, am I in real trouble now, because the number one rule in writing is to write about what you know. Of course Im no prude, (my husbands opinion is not to be solicited here) but I come from a generation where if a girl kissed on the first date her reputation was refuted. If you kissed at all (and who didnt) the minute you waltzed into the house, someway, somehow your mother always knew. Your hair could be neatly plastered to your head, your clothes completely unwrinkled, and your lipstick smudge-free, and shes take one glance at you and warn, A boy doesnt respect a floozy.
Our generation knew very little about the real world; this generation knows far too much and its heartbreaking. Nothing seems to embarrass young people; everything made us blush and squirm. Those are two extremes and neither seems very healthy. We live in a promiscuous society, but do you see many people any happier because of it? All you have to do is look at the rich thriving prescription drug companies and one of their most prescribed drugs is Valium used for nerves and anxiety. If having so much sex relieves so much stress, why all the pills? Im neither a physician nor a person of the cloth, but maybe the conditions arent conducive to having the right kind of sex. I would prefer calling it lovemaking because then youre more concerned about pleasing your partner. Having just plain, old, every day sex is more concerned about pleasing yourself.Im not making a moral judgment call here because only God has that right. And speaking of that, have you ever noticed how the ones with the shadiest past are the most judgmental? Seems to me things are terribly backwards---people live together, have children and then get married---maybe. Im really stumped as to what went wrong and believe me, it didnt happen overnight. This issue truly makes me wonder.
You think too much, complain some of my colleagues, and sometimes they say it like thats a bad thing. Immediately Im put on the defensive and to compound the situation, Im foolish enough to comment.
Id rather have the ability to think then just instinctively stumble through life.
How sad, but some dont even have the ability to think or stumble. My doctor friend recently shared with me this true encounter. A young girl came to her with what appeared to be STD. Are you sexually active? asked the doctor.
Sexually active? Oh no, the young girl firmly replied, My boyfriend does all the work!
If the doctor and I hadnt laughed we would have surely cried.
That reminds me, Doc, I continued laughing, how once a teacher wrote on a report card the following comment, Its impossible to believe the sperm that created this child beat out 1,000,000 others.
I wonder, could her patient have been that student? A sick, sordid, pathetic world, isnt it? But please permit me to say quite wonderful and magical, too.
To read more of Karens previously published articles, please visit homegrownharvard.blogspot.com
My grandparents, parents and I all read your column, exclaimed the young man. Thank them and thank you, I humbly smiled.
Theres more, he rambled on. My grandfather said hed divorce you in a New York minute if you were his wife because
Hold it right there, Big Mouth. Id rather not hear why. Its taxing enough that I have to deal with one mans opinions, I dont need two.
Its a rewarding feeling to know that this column seems to transcend all ages, but now the pressure is really on because what subject (s) can possibly appeal to everybody? Ive got it! Sex. Boy, am I in real trouble now, because the number one rule in writing is to write about what you know. Of course Im no prude, (my husbands opinion is not to be solicited here) but I come from a generation where if a girl kissed on the first date her reputation was refuted. If you kissed at all (and who didnt) the minute you waltzed into the house, someway, somehow your mother always knew. Your hair could be neatly plastered to your head, your clothes completely unwrinkled, and your lipstick smudge-free, and shes take one glance at you and warn, A boy doesnt respect a floozy.
Our generation knew very little about the real world; this generation knows far too much and its heartbreaking. Nothing seems to embarrass young people; everything made us blush and squirm. Those are two extremes and neither seems very healthy. We live in a promiscuous society, but do you see many people any happier because of it? All you have to do is look at the rich thriving prescription drug companies and one of their most prescribed drugs is Valium used for nerves and anxiety. If having so much sex relieves so much stress, why all the pills? Im neither a physician nor a person of the cloth, but maybe the conditions arent conducive to having the right kind of sex. I would prefer calling it lovemaking because then youre more concerned about pleasing your partner. Having just plain, old, every day sex is more concerned about pleasing yourself.Im not making a moral judgment call here because only God has that right. And speaking of that, have you ever noticed how the ones with the shadiest past are the most judgmental? Seems to me things are terribly backwards---people live together, have children and then get married---maybe. Im really stumped as to what went wrong and believe me, it didnt happen overnight. This issue truly makes me wonder.
You think too much, complain some of my colleagues, and sometimes they say it like thats a bad thing. Immediately Im put on the defensive and to compound the situation, Im foolish enough to comment.
Id rather have the ability to think then just instinctively stumble through life.
How sad, but some dont even have the ability to think or stumble. My doctor friend recently shared with me this true encounter. A young girl came to her with what appeared to be STD. Are you sexually active? asked the doctor.
Sexually active? Oh no, the young girl firmly replied, My boyfriend does all the work!
If the doctor and I hadnt laughed we would have surely cried.
That reminds me, Doc, I continued laughing, how once a teacher wrote on a report card the following comment, Its impossible to believe the sperm that created this child beat out 1,000,000 others.
I wonder, could her patient have been that student? A sick, sordid, pathetic world, isnt it? But please permit me to say quite wonderful and magical, too.
To read more of Karens previously published articles, please visit homegrownharvard.blogspot.com
Tuesday, December 8. 2009
On The Cheap
With the holidays coming up, most people are strapped for cash and are forced to turn down hanging out with friends.
If you spend the research time and dig around a little there are lots of activities to do with you and your friends, family or even alone throughout the holiday season and beyond. Or maybe you just need to take a load off and remove yourself from the hustle and bustle of the holiday season by doing something fun, getting all your energy out.
Through a couple months of research I have compiled a list of activities to do Monday through Friday, some of the hardest days of the week to find things to do.
Monday:
Ice skating at Buffalo State College of the Amherst Pepsi Center.
Buffalo State College is $2 to skate and $2 for adults to rent skates and $1 for children to rent skates. A complete schedule is available at http://www.buffalostateathletics.com/sports/2008/6/26/GEN_0626085953.aspx
but normally they have open skate between noon and 1:50 p.m. or beginning at 8 a.m., depending on which day you choose to go.
The Amherst Pepsi Center has varying times on Mondays, and other days of the week, but most open skates are in the afternoon. Visit http://www.amherstpepsicenter.com/ for more information.
Tuesday:
Bar Louie, located at 1 Walden Galleria Drive in Cheektowaga, serves up $1 burgers from 5 p.m. until close. Servers bring over sheets of paper and customers can customize their burgers, adding on various components including cheese, bacon, guacamole, etc. for 25 cents to 50 cents extra. The burgers are the same size as if you went to Bar Louie on a different day. I would recommend ordering some tots. One order is definitely big enough to share with another person. They also have special pricing on draft beers and drinks during happy hour.
For more information, visit http://www.restaurants-america.com/barlouie/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewLocation&locID=36
Wednesday:
Catch a second run flick at Movieland 8 Theatre, located at 200 Thruway Plaza Drive in Cheektowaga. Normally movies are $3.50, but on Wednesdays shows are only $1.50. Viewers can also opt for the big deal package, which contains one admission, one small drink and one small popcorn.
Thursday:
Dont be an absentee at Transit Lanes, located at 7850 Transit Road in Williamsville, Thursdays after 9 p.m. Each game played is only 75 cents. Visit http://www.transitlanes.net/ for more information. This special runs Monday through Thursday only.
Friday:
Get a little culture in your life and visit the Albright-Knox Art Gallery for free between 3 and 10 p.m. Each Friday is themed and they offer various programs and events throughout the evening. Parking is $3 on the grounds of the gallery.
www.albrightknox.org
If you have any other suggestions, please feel free to add them.
If you spend the research time and dig around a little there are lots of activities to do with you and your friends, family or even alone throughout the holiday season and beyond. Or maybe you just need to take a load off and remove yourself from the hustle and bustle of the holiday season by doing something fun, getting all your energy out.
Through a couple months of research I have compiled a list of activities to do Monday through Friday, some of the hardest days of the week to find things to do.
Monday:
Ice skating at Buffalo State College of the Amherst Pepsi Center.
Buffalo State College is $2 to skate and $2 for adults to rent skates and $1 for children to rent skates. A complete schedule is available at http://www.buffalostateathletics.com/sports/2008/6/26/GEN_0626085953.aspx
but normally they have open skate between noon and 1:50 p.m. or beginning at 8 a.m., depending on which day you choose to go.
The Amherst Pepsi Center has varying times on Mondays, and other days of the week, but most open skates are in the afternoon. Visit http://www.amherstpepsicenter.com/ for more information.
Tuesday:
Bar Louie, located at 1 Walden Galleria Drive in Cheektowaga, serves up $1 burgers from 5 p.m. until close. Servers bring over sheets of paper and customers can customize their burgers, adding on various components including cheese, bacon, guacamole, etc. for 25 cents to 50 cents extra. The burgers are the same size as if you went to Bar Louie on a different day. I would recommend ordering some tots. One order is definitely big enough to share with another person. They also have special pricing on draft beers and drinks during happy hour.
For more information, visit http://www.restaurants-america.com/barlouie/index.cfm?fuseaction=viewLocation&locID=36
Wednesday:
Catch a second run flick at Movieland 8 Theatre, located at 200 Thruway Plaza Drive in Cheektowaga. Normally movies are $3.50, but on Wednesdays shows are only $1.50. Viewers can also opt for the big deal package, which contains one admission, one small drink and one small popcorn.
Thursday:
Dont be an absentee at Transit Lanes, located at 7850 Transit Road in Williamsville, Thursdays after 9 p.m. Each game played is only 75 cents. Visit http://www.transitlanes.net/ for more information. This special runs Monday through Thursday only.
Friday:
Get a little culture in your life and visit the Albright-Knox Art Gallery for free between 3 and 10 p.m. Each Friday is themed and they offer various programs and events throughout the evening. Parking is $3 on the grounds of the gallery.
www.albrightknox.org
If you have any other suggestions, please feel free to add them.
(Page 1 of 2, totaling 10 entries)
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