There are two kinds of Buffalo Wings.
There's the basic Buffalo bar food done to varying degrees of success all over the country.
And then there are the non-fat variety those of us who grew up in Buffalo tend to sprout right after college and a hard look at the local economy.
They take us to places that require far few layers in the winter, charge us less in taxes and offer the chance to make a living wage.
They work in constant battle with Buffalo Roots (which can not be found on any restaurant menu). Roots keep your body clock tuned to football season and the county fair where ever you may roam.
Buffalo Roots celebrate family, tradition and ice cream stands open only in the summer. They dig in deep when others criticize or underestimate your hometown.
This little island on the coast of Georgia is the farthest north I've lived since college more than two decades ago, but my Roots are deeply tangled.
In the years the Wings insisted never, the Roots knew they'd pull me back. Without that internal tug-of-war, it may seem bizarre to live on a resort island and vacation in Buffalo.
The force is as natural and evitable as Niagara Falls. When the day is right, I'll be winging it home for good.


Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs