Bills Games at Delilah’s Western New York is a state unto itself, a strange land more of the Rust Belt than the Northeast, where Buffalo and Rochester and the Niagara frontier are wind-whipped by November witches screaming across Erie and Ontario and buried inevitably in feet of wet, smothering snow; it is a brutal, beautiful place. Intensely proud of having the only professional football team in the state of New York, Buffalo Bills fans are renowned for their devotion, and expats or the curious can taste the fanaticism in Chicago thanks to Delilah’s. The bar becomes a mecca on Sundays, a place where the halcyon days, the days of the K-Gun and Bruce Smith and bad things, still exist. Games are shown on multiple televisions and piped over the sound system—no music here, unless it is a commercial or halftime—while the Labatt, Genny and Canadian whiskey flows. To those who grew up in the region, Delilah’s is an outpost—different lake, same vibe, and no place short of Orchard Park is a better place for a Bills fan on Sunday.
Dime Stories: The Holy Ghost of Western Avenue As the COVID-19 pandemic rolls on, one cannot help the sinking suspicion that this is the beginning of a new epoch in the life of the world, not the end. The efforts at feigning "normalization" and "reopening" only add more fatalities and sickness to our country. I've attempted to hide from this by walking in the park and by making…
