Buzz: Bright Twinkle Lights, Big City

Plus, skis vs. brewskis, a realistic rainforest, and a unique response to "Go Bills!"

Ciao Buffalo, home to the beautiful people. Photo by the Author.

Under the Twinkle Lights

Buzz has strolled down Hertel Avenue past Ciao Buffalo more times than we can count, slowing our step to admire the glittering lights. But until the other night, we never went in.

Such a sight we beheld. Hundreds — nay, thousands — of ornaments raining from the ceiling, suspended on strings of twinkle lights, as if Christmas itself had taken a long, stylish lease. Dapper gentlemen were dining at the bar, including, if we are not mistaken, Fortunato Pezzimenti. We loved overhearing a woman glide up and ask what he was directing this season. The answer? “Hedda Gabler,” coming to the Kavinoky Theatre in February.

Buzz approved of the company in which we found ourself. We also approved of ourself by association, as we sat in the twinkly window sipping our Spanish red. Most importantly, we approved of Ciao for keeping its extravagant Christmas finery aloft long after others have kicked their trees to the curb. Deck the halls! This place does.

Dash to Dash

Buzz dashed to Dash Markets on the hot tip that eggs were 99 cents a dozen. Ninety-nine cents! We never thought we’d see that number again outside a history book. There was a limit of two, so being good Buffalonians — practical, polite, and alert to a bargain — we grabbed two.

At the checkout, the clerk leaned in and asked, “Did you check them?” We stared back, momentarily stunned. “To see if any are broken,” she explained.

Buzz was incredulous. Of course we checked them. Our mother taught us to do that.

The clerk laughed. “Everyone is saying that,” she said. “They’re all saying their mother taught them to check.”

Which tells you two things: prices may rise and fall — but Buffalo mothers? They’re eternal.

Rules of the Rainforest

Our favorite zoo sign remains “Please Do Not Climb on Debris Pile.” It lives in the Rainforest Falls exhibit near the giant anteater, and we want one just like it posted near our desk.

This week, though, we spotted a new number: “Please Do Not Pick the Bromeliad Flowers.” It would disturb the poison dart frogs, we learned.

Wow, all this time we’d apparently been picking bromeliad flowers, guilt-free! Just kidding. You have to watch your jokes when poison dart frogs enter the conversation.

Anyway — an expert Substack writer versed in this kind of thing weighed in with insight. In a comment, he noted that immersive zoo exhibits, especially tropical ones, rely on atmosphere as much as animals. Signs like “Please Do Not Pick the Bromeliad Flowers,” he said, actually make these environments feel more authentic, not less.

Which makes perfect sense. Nothing breaks the spell faster than someone treating a carefully staged rainforest like a bouquet bar.

O Say, Can You Ski?

Buzz’s first attempt this year at cross-country skiing fizzled. That’s the trouble with skiing: It’s always something! It’s too warm, and the snow’s not right. Or it’s too cold, and your fingers freeze. You glide beautifully for one shining moment — then your skis seize up and begin clumping like yesterday’s mashed potatoes.

It’s enough to make anyone forget the ski and go for the brewski. All you folks who swear by skiing — how do you do it?

The Buzz

Go Bills! It’s the greeting on everyone’s lips. One gal we know, not a sports fan, snapped back: “And take the Sabres with you.”

As we wish the Bills luck this weekend, we also extend a warm welcome back to Max Valdés, former music director of the Buffalo Philharmonic Orchestra, back in town to conduct Mozart at Kleinhans Music Hall on Friday morning and Saturday evening (alas, up against the Bills game).

The maestro was always impeccably dapper. One can’t help but wonder — might he be dining at Ciao?

Further Reading

Click here for the story on the Buffalo Zoo’s rainforest, and read the erudite comment discussed above.

Click here for the lowdown on Max Valdés conducting Mozart at the BPO — when, what, tickets, and so forth.

Click here for my exclusive review of the new four-hour-long “Amadeus.”