Act in your own interest

Much noise has been made about a viral internet video featuring Wall Street professionals mocking protesters participating in the “Occupy Wall Street” campaign.

The video shows a hand full of well-dressed business types drinking champagne and taking photos of the protesters. Many have referred to it as “a slap in the face” of those on the streets picketing what they say are unfair market conditions that keep the rich rich, keep the poor poor and wipe out the middle class.

The war between the haves and the have-nots has gone on since the dawn of time and won’t end any time soon, but the current economic situation in the country, coupled with mass media alerting everyone to said economic situation makes it all the more heartbreaking.

While I think the Wall Street types’ actions are deplorable, I’m not in the “lynch them” crowd. From their perspective, their way of life is being attacked. In fact, from their point of view, they themselves are being attacked.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have much sympathy for them. I may even envy them, just like I imagine the protesters envy them, as well.

Most of us grew up learning that if we worked hard, we, too could have the American dream. And most of us believe that today. Some of us may have achieved that dream — with a house, two cars, a cat, a dog, picket fence, etc.

There are some people, though, who work hard every day and have less and less to show for it. In fact, right now, more Americans are slipping into poverty on a daily basis. They wish they could be drinking champagne and mocking the downtrodden. If only they could figure out a way to no longer be downtrodden.

It doesn’t help that right-wing talk radio and conservative news outlets have convinced us that the downtrodden are the problem. The people starving and homeless are what’s wrong with America, they’d have you believe. It’s almost social Darwinism. And it’s downright scary.

I’m certainly not saying storm the castle and take what you feel you deserve. That’s not what our republic is about. The revolution should be at the ballot box. But there will be no revolution if the people vote against their best interest.

Voting for someone who idolizes the rich because you idolize the rich is a path to your own destruction. Self loathing on account of your aspirations to be able to loathe the downtrodden from above is a huge mistake, to say the least.

So when it comes time to vote, vote for you or at the very least someone like you.

To paraphrase Niccolo Machiavelli, “deal with the situation at hand — not the situation you wish were at hand.” And the situation is that we’re empowering the destruction of the middle class.

Act in your own best interest. If you don’t, no one else will.

Struggling for power and fighting the future

Like many of you, I'd imagine, I have a cell phone charger at home and another at work.

Funny story. For some reason that escapes me now, I brought my home charger to work on Wednesday. And forgot it there. So Thursday morning, my phone had drained completely and I had no charger. I live in Tonawanda and work in Lockport, so it's not like I could just pop in and grab it. It's about a half an hour drive. Fortunately, my downstairs neighbor uses the same charger and I got through the day.

After work on Thursday, I remembered to bring home my home charger.

Friday, I get to work and find that I'm actually working out of our Tonawanda offices instead of the Lockport office, like I usually do. So in order to make sure I got through the night, I brought my work phone charger to the Tonawanda News with me ... and then home.

My girlfriend and her kids came over Sunday to spend time with me and my girls. She brought her home charger with her ... and accidentally left it at my place. (She lives in Lockport)

After dropping my kids off at their mom's (Lockport) following the weekend, I popped into work to grab the power cord for my laptop, as I'm off for a few days and won't have the juice to get through it without the power cord, should I need to use my work laptop.

I would have let my girlfriend borrow my work charger, since we use the same type and I won't need it for the next three days ... but I left it at home. Along with my home charger. And her charger. If you're keeping track here, on Thursday morning, I had no phone chargers at home. As I type this, I have three.

Also, it's not without irony that the reason I had stopped into work at all was to get the laptop cord/charger.

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Every day that passes, I'm a little older – and hopefully a little wiser, but more importantly (and sadly) right now, we're a little closer to winter.

It's football season and the Bills are off to a great start, having won half as many games already as they won all of last year.

Last night started Sabres' pre-season. That excites me a lot more than football season, quite frankly. If spending means winning, then the Sabres should have a great year this year. Of course, spending doesn't always mean winning, but I'm hopeful anyway.

My neighbor across the street put scarecrows out over the weekend. I think they're Halloween decoration. I love Halloween more than most, but I think it's a bit early to start decorating. Of course, it's better than my neighbor down the street who still has Christmas lights up – and lights them. I'm sure they'd say they're not “Christmas” lights, they're just lights. But I'm not buying it.

We've only got a little over three months before it's 2012 – and there's just 14 months before the world is supposed to end … again. You may recall that the rapture was supposed to occur earlier this summer and didn't. Of course, I'm okay with the world not ending this summer. And I'll be equally pleased if it doesn't end next December. I have too many things left to do than I'll be able to accomplish in 14 months. One of them, apparently, is to invent a way to charge phones and laptops without cords.

Sept. 11th took a toll on all of us - and still does

I'll be honest, I wanted to avoid writing about Sept. 11^th. You've already read so much about it in the last couple weeks and I've heard so much about it myself. I just wanted to stay away from it.

But I can't.

This weekend was hard for all of us. Every single person I know over the age of 20 has a “where were you when” story. Everyone has a story about how it affected them. Everyone knows someone they were worried about, whether it was a friend or colleague in New York or D.C., or whether it was someone local that they just couldn't stop worrying about.

My day was not unlike anyone else's. I got the news on my computer, went to the television and watched in horror as the day's events unfolded. From the instant the second plane hit, all I could think about was how badly I wanted my wife to come home.

It all seems almost silly now that we'd be worried about people in Buffalo or, in my case, Niagara Falls. But we had no idea how things would play out and given the degree to which the day already didn't make sense, who could blame us for not thinking clearly.

I got choked up a couple times this weekend. Try as I may, I couldn't help but go “back there” mentally, revisiting the fears that I had on the day.

For a male, I'm pretty big on dates. I remember birthdays and anniversaries. I remember what happened a year ago most days. I recall the dates of significant things that happened in my life. The closing date on my house, the day I bought my car, first dates, last dates, etc. I'm not sure why. If I were a computer, I would try to turn this feature off. Frankly, it's a hassle. 

No matter whether you're big on dates, though, Sunday was probably a big one for you. You could “feel” it around town. The quiet that cried out — people trapped in their own minds.

I went to a Sept. 11^th memorial Sunday at Lockport's VFW post 2535. “Quiet” was the word that summed it up. No one was on their cell phone. No one was texting. And the conversations that were happening were all in very hushed tones.

State Sen. George Maziarz was there and gave a very short speech. I've known the senator for several years. He never shies away from talking. But Sunday he said what he had to say in just a couple minutes, thanking the heroes of 10 years ago — as well as the heroes of today, and stepping away from the microphone.

For anyone that knows George Maziarz, you know he's a very outgoing person, always working the crowd, shaking hands, laughing. There was none of this on Sunday. He was quiet. Reserved. Maybe it was simply out of respect. Or maybe he was just like the rest of us, trapped in thought, thinking about the things that were important to him.

In truth, I'm glad to have the anniversary pass. It took an emotional toll, one I don't want to deal with again for a while. 

As I said, I didn't want to write about Sept. 11^th. I'd rather focus on something else. But for better or worse, these past few days, nothing else existed.

Are we missing the obvious?

Another summer has come and passed. I hope you all got out there and took advantage of all that Western New York has to offer.

I spent most of the unofficial last weekend of summer eating, first at a family gathering and then at the 10^th Annual National Buffalo Wing Festival.

I've gone to the chicken wing festival for several years now. And it always amazes me that there are these businesses around the world that make money – and lots of it – off of chicken wings. An entire industry, if you will, exists because of something that happened right here in Buffalo. And although wings remain a “Buffalo thing,” there are restaurants all across America that make Buffalo (and our wings) their specialty. 

Each restaurant seems to have their niche. Many seem to go for the hottest wing possible. Others go for different and unusual flavors. But they all recognize that Buffalo is the chicken wing capital of the world. 

For decades, people have recognized Buffalo as the birthplace of chicken wings. In fact, many parts of the country refer to them as “Buffalo wings.” 

But it took a somewhat obscure movie starring Bill Murray – who went to a fictional chicken wing festival in Buffalo - and a newspaper column asking why said chicken wing festival didn't really exist to make Drew Cerza, AKA the “Wing King,” stand up and say, “Why don't we celebrate this birthright of ours? Why don't we have a festival dedicated to chicken wings?”

And so, 10 years ago the National Buffalo Wing Festival was born. It's grown each year, attracting more and more media attention to one of the things that we do right. TV cameras from every major news organization were in town, showing Buffalo on a hot summer day instead of the standard blizzard footage they all seem to show every time Buffalo is mentioned.

For the fifth year in a row, yesterday, Sonya “Black Widow” Thomas won the chicken wing eating championship. This year she did it in style, eating 183 wings in 12 minutes, setting a new world record. I couldn't eat 183 wings in a week, let alone 12 minutes. 

Thomas' feat will no doubt bring even further attention to Buffalo. 

Good for us.

The whole thing makes me wonder, though; If we were so oblivious to not have a chicken wing festival one of the things we're most famous for, what else are we forgetting? What other obvious highlights, attractions and local oddities are we forgetting to promote? 

The rest of the world thinks of Buffalo as “the place where snow comes from.” But we have so many things to offer the world. From art and music to architecture and industry, Western New York has so much to be proud of. 

Which of you will be the next Drew Cerza? Which of you will be the next person to realize that there's something we need share with the world – and bring it to fruition?

* A side note: There was a “Ridiculously Hot Wing Eating Championship. The winner ate 20 of them in the least amount of time. I tried one of those hot wings from Hurricane Grill and Wings. My ears literally hurt and I was dizzy. They were impressive. And painful.