By Peter Scheck -
Generation Magazine, October 10, 2006
There’s a smell called chimney that murmurs of smoke and cold at the same time and you can only smell it for the first few minutes that you’re outside. Then you start complaining.
Some people are affected by seasons a lot more than others. I think there’s something called seasonal depression that a friend of mine used to get, and I get it too.
In Buffalo this hits harder than a bullet.
When I first got to Buffalo three years ago (my father refers to this as abandoning me) my parents let me hop out of the car myself. It wasn’t especially ceremonious. Moving here looked terrible, and it was worse.
That was the last time I was able to cry on my own. I lived on the eighth floor of a brick tower with a tile floor. I remember vomiting out of the window onto the tunnel below, its dark orange light reminding me of a book my father and I used to read.
That book was about chickens trying to break out of captivity. I think. I remember them walking along a road and nearly being eaten by a fox. I really looked forward to my father reading that part of the book, and then I screamed because I didn’t like foxes. Before long, the chickens came to a factory and I’ll never forget the illustration in this book, as orange as a hellish sun. A feeling of fear echoed through my head every time I stepped foot in that tunnel.
I had a great view of the University Inn, though, even if I had no idea in which direction it was from the front door of my dorm. It had a giant red florescent light. I wonder if anyone ever stays there.
Pretty much every day I ate pretzels and drank soda. I was really concerned with downloading TV shows onto my computer and staying up all night to watch them. My favorite nights of the year were the ones when it snowed a lot because I could open my window and still be warm. Free heat is a feature I will forever miss.
The Ellicott dorms, when they were made in 1974, were created to be riot-proof. You already know that. That’s why they’re really long and confusing and it’s impossible to meet anybody anywhere. If I learned one simple tip it is to never move in anywhere without a front door.
That was the end of that era, I guess. And what’s more, it worked. The idea of a riot seems ludicrous to me. Anything could happen on this campus, with no student concern.
I can’t believe parents can drop their kids off at a place like the Ellicott Complex with a clear conscience. The place is called a complex; if that’s not enough, it’s located in the middle of what used to be a swamp. Now it’s a swamp with a bunch of repulsive buildings on it.
Anyway.
I didn’t join any clubs, preferring to sit around my room and listen to music. I played the piano a lot and generally screwed around. I also got a lot of tattoos that I now borderline regret.
Then, before I knew it, it was time to go back home to my folks. I told them I was never going back to school, and they said that was okay. I stayed home all summer and worked at a nursery, selling trees to old folks. That was exciting.
A week before school started, I decided to come back. UB didn’t have any housing left, so I came up and found an apartment to move into, bought a dog, and kept going to school. I kind of liked it.
Buffalo has a way of being colder than anyplace on Earth, not so much because of the snow or even the wind, but because the sky is so big. It feels like this city never ends, it just goes on until you can’t see anymore. That’s a cold feeling.
The seasons last longer in Buffalo than anywhere else.
Then came my job at a record store which I was pretty quickly fired from. I kind of sucked at selling records, but it made the time go by.
My apartment was on the bottom floor, and for the first time, I was above the city.
Generation is an SBI publication at the University at Buffalo - Generation.buffalo.edu
