So, as I mentioned in a previous column, there was PLENTY to do around Buffalo this past weekend, and, seeing as how I actually reside within walking distance of a lot of the things that were happening, I decided to step out and look around. Good thing I did, too. No, really. I got a gobsmack of a lesson about not seeing the forest for the trees here in the Queen City.
Saturday was opening day of the Elmwood-Bidwell Farmer’s Market’s outdoor season, and the Elmwood Village Association couldn’t have bought better weather. Sunny, not too hot, bit of a breeze wafting through the east end of Bidwell Park (where the vendors stands will be for the first half of the season as part of an effort to safeguard the grassy areas on both sides of Bidwell.) Flowers, honey, alpaca jerky, celeriac, beer, tortillas, vegetarian wraps, maple candy and more offered up as the Buffalo String Quartet sang, “Homegrown Tomatoes.” All of the dogs in attendance had apparently studied up on the “wag more, bark less” mantra. Random conversations with fellow marketers.
I haven’t been to Bidwell Market in at least four years. This is a shameful confession I make, since until last fall I lived in Elmwood Village. For six years.
I had, however, been passingly through last summer’s iteration of Porchfest, which opened its 2016 season on Saturday, as well. Dovetailing perfectly with the conclusion of the Market at 12:30 p.m., by 1 p.m., bands were set up in a wide swath from Delaware to Richmond, Forest to North. The Plagiarists held court from a porch on Bidwell, audience packing the lawn and sidewalk in front of the home, and overflowing to the park across the street. I found myself singing along without even thinking about it; but, the guy next to me was doing so as well. My inner 12-year-old’s selfconsciousness evaporated in a shared experience of just plain being happy in the moment and the music.
More porches to see, more bands to hear, away I wandered up Elmwood toward Lafayette. On the intersection’s northwest corner porch played Talapia (“Like the fisssshhhh!!” said the drummer as he introduced the band.) The funky beat had the crowd nodding heads, tapping feet. Intertwining with the sounds of Talapia, though, were the chords struck by the band on the lawn across the street at the church. And those of another group a little further east down Lafayette.
Crossing Elmwood to hear the band on the church’s lawn, I see the sign: “Ted Talks and Tacos! Tuesdays 7:30 p.m.” Everyone knows the Lloyd truck is in front of Lafayette Avenue Presbyterian Church on Tuesday evenings … but adding in Ted Talks is a pretty compelling draw for me. Who knew?
The band in front of the church was packing up while another began to set up, so I wandered toward the more easterly Lafayette porch; but, wait! What’s that sign further up the street? “Inn Buffalo, Off Elmwood,” read the sign. What? How did I never notice that? In walking up to the beautiful building, with a melodious voice belonging to Sharon Bailey carrying in the spring afternoon air, I was greeted from the porch, “Hey! Come on up here! We’re friendly!”
That voice belonged to Joe Lettieri, who along with his wife, Ellen are the proprietors of Inn Buffalo, which they purchased at auction and began to restore. Inn Buffalo was open to the public, with docents on hand to speak to the history of the building and the work going on there. Renovate is absolutely the wrong term for what they have undertaken at the historic home built by industrialist H H Holmes. They have begun restoring it to its original glory. From the pristine woodwork to the handpainted tiles in the rathskeller, element by element this boutique inn is once again become a glorious showpiece.
I asked Joe when they had installed the sign (last Fall), because I took Lafayette from home to work and back again for almost four years, and never once noticed that sign before moving out of the Village last December. That’s when it hit me: I had spent the day discovering and enjoying things that had been there all along.
I have been so preoccupied over the years with tunnel vision, and task-oriented thinking, that I had completely failed to allow myself to enjoy all of the wonderful, unique things around me.
Bidwell Market? A passing thought driving past vendors setting up early morning after leaving work, “I should stop back when it opens.”
Lloyd Taco Truck on Elmwood at Lafayette? Oh, cool. They are there every Tuesday, I should stop and get some sometime.”
The Church? I’ve taken many pictures of that beautiful structure by sunset or moonlight, but never read their sign or visited their website, so I’ve missed their message of inclusion.
Porchfest? This I have managed to enjoy a bit of before, but only because I was on my way to do something else.
And the glorious Inn Buffalo? Missed completely despite the Lettieris’ efforts and extensive restoration, as I was oh-so-focused on getting from Point A to Point B.
All of these individual discoveries on a single day, made me realize the scope of what I have missed in recent years here in Buffalo. I truly have missed this glorious resurgent forest for the trees.
Helen Bach is a returned WNY expatriate, now a Buffalo resident. She has 3 adult-sized kids, 1 wiggle-sized dog and a scintillating career dramatically unrelated to journalism.
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