I turned to the stage where the soothing tones of gypsy swing performed by Babik provided perfect accompaniment to an evening’s repast. My boy, virtuoso guitarist Stuart Fuchs, nodded in my direction as I smiled back in appreciation of his exceptional talent and execution upon the strings. Surveying the scene I spied a few more familiar faces, one of whom made way to visit. I congratulated her on a recent marriage and we spoke of our mutual feelings for a good friend who moved away recently. Jason had become an urban icon symbolizing the back-to-basics and down-to-earth model for communal service through a local grassroots initiative promoting urban agriculture, youth involvement and sustainability. He was forced to move back home to his family in Indiana with the addition of a newborn for support. His spirit was certainly present among the festive crowd, many of whom had become his spiritual family in recent years.

I had anticipated a larger turnout, particularly on such an unseasonably mild evening for mid-November. As I munched down the remainder of a bowl of Manhattan clam chowder Assemblyman Sam Hoyt and Senator Antoine Thompson took the stage to address the congregation. Senator Thompson did his part to get it poppin shouting out, “Do you believe in Buffalo? Do you believe in Buffalo?” Each time he was met with a more resounding “Yes!” He gave a brief speech ensuring to impress upon his constituents that he truly represents their best interest in support of local business. Prior to his pep talk he and I made eye contact across the room. I wasn’t sure if he remembered me from attendance at a fundraiser before he was elected. Somewhere meandering between hors-d’ouvres and bodies was a local news network capturing still frames perhaps for the 11 o’clock news.

I headed down to the basement to redeem my ticket stub for 1 complimentary beverage. I opted for the Flying Bison Oatmeal Stout, a potent brew from the west side brewery. Returning to the main floor I mingled through the mostly unfamiliar faces with limited interaction. I passed by one fella who looked familiar, but couldn’t put a name to the face as we both smiled and nodded while passing by. I found myself standing alone sipping my beer with a little child dancing to my right. I looked over and smiled her spirit so bright. I surveyed the room and took inventory. It was mostly Caucasoid, with but a few Somalians perhaps to diversify. It was most certainly all hominids, predominately 3rd dimensionals moving into 4th and 5th dimensionality, but none having arrived into multi-dimensionality, at least as far as I could intuit. I held the space for a period of time without drawing in anyone. It was uncharacteristic to say the least as I am typically a magnet at social affairs. I didn’t know what to make of it exactly so I made nothing of it and carried on.

Returning my plastic cup to the recycle table I grabbed an apple on the way to the exit. Walking down Delaware I pondered the evening’s course of events. While I was not very successful at networking, at least on a perceptible level, I knew I made an impression on a more sublime level. We at Buffalo Investment Group, LLC are promoting urban revitalization through investing in real estate situations which inevitably benefit all parties involved. If nothing else, it was clear that the message being promoted at the event was “Buy local and believe in Buffalo.” I bit into the tangy Macintosh, or was it an Empire? Nonetheless, I do know beyond a shadow of a doubt it was locally grown. Thoughts came to mind, why buy your caramel macchiato from Starbucks when you can get one just as good from Caz Coffee Cafe on Abbott? No question the hummus and tabouli at Amy’s Place on Main St. are as good as any you’d have shipped in from the Mediterranean. It may be a little early to tell just what is to come of our Buffalo rising and renaissance. One thing is for sure, a small group of thoughtful citizens can change the world, indeed it is the only thing that ever has!

SJK