Snowy Days and Bills Games

It's January in Western New York. Once again the lights of Ralph Wilson Stadium have been dimmed at the end of the regular season, and the shores of Lake Erie are cold with disappointment. The Bills have missed the playoffs for the 13th straight year, finishing last in the AFC East in the process. When I was a little boy, the Bills were in the playoffs almost every year. I fear for James' emotional health. Will he be able to bond with his father as I bonded with mine if our football team plays so miserably? Or could they at least be more interesting if they're going to be this bad?

I went to the final game with my friend Bill, and we sat in the Time Warner Cable luxury suite. Have you ever sat in a luxury suite? No, you haven't. You aren't important enough or rich enough. (I don't say this disparagingly...I'm not important enough or rich enough to sit there either, I just happen to have a lucky friend.) As 70,000 plebeians freeze in the regular stadium seats, the dwellers of the luxury box relax in warmth and comfort. There are couches, free drinks, free buffet, and big-screen TVs.

Bill and I came into the stadium with plebes, and had some trouble finding where our box was. You see, we kept on asking for directions to our seats (GL22 in the Time Warner Box) but we couldn't find anyone who was important enough to have been there themselves. Asking for directions to the luxury suite while going through general entrance is like asking questions of yacht maintenance at the bingo hall.

Once we found our suite we dropped off our coats at the coat-check and then got in line for the buffet. There was roasted lamb, a pork and apricot salad, honey-roasted salmon, creamed spinach, and fresh bread. I had a glass of free red wine, and we sat back to enjoy the view of the game through enormous wall-sized windows. For the first ten minutes I was too surprised by my good fortune to consider myself with anything other than a delighted surprise. Then I started feeling guilty. It's hard to say when plenty crosses the line into opulence, or abundance into gluttony, but my conscience started nagging me.

Fortunately, they brought out wings and pizza for halftime, and my conscience is very partial to wings. There were stuffed meatballs as well, and fresh fruit and vegetables. The Bills broke open the game in the third quarter, and the whole box roared with each new score. Outside the plebes high-fived each other, threw snow in the air, and pounded the stands. We might not be very good, but the fans have a good time. After they brought out the desserts (baklava and a raspberry filled cake) I decided to be done with the food.

Summary? It was an awesome experience to do once and once only. But I think that if someone came and offered me the tickets again I'd rather give them to Pax or my Dad. They'd make better patricians anyway.

In other news, James and I went "sledding" in the backyard today. We had the PT Cruiser towed to our driveway for Tim to work on, and I thought James might want to see the big truck. We wrapped him up in two coats, boots, and mittens, and I let him toddle around in the driveway. He thought it was great. He spilled in the snow several times, shouted a lot, and fought his way back down whenever I picked him up. We took an inside break for him to warm up after about 20 minutes (he fought the entire time to get back outside) and then I took him out into the deep drifts of the back yard.

I don't know where my proper snow boots are. Probably somewhere in Albion. I wrapped my socks in plastic bags, then put on sneakers, and towed him around in his sled. We had a great time. He loved going up and down the little snow dunes, he waved hello to the neighbor's bunnies several times, and laughed hysterically whenever we "went fast" on a straightaway. I think he would have stayed out there all afternoon if he hadn't faceplanted in the snow. He remembered how cold he was then, and was happy to let Mommy change him into dry pjs.