On a carousel in North Tonawanda, New York

This Herschell ostrich (1907) is a rare bird.

The 1916 Herschell #1 Special carousel features painted local scenes and a 1910 Wurlitzer band organ.

My aunt Angie always gave great presents. One long-ago summer, my birthday gift was a wooden jewellery box that tinkled and revolved like a real merry-go-round.  Decades later, I'm still enchanted by carousels though real, rideable ones are few on the ground.  One of the best places to find them is Western New York, a region that once supplied the world with fairground rides.
The Herschell Carrousel Factory in North Tonawanda, a community on the north edge of Buffalo, was once headquarters for carousel production in North America.
My first visit to the factory--now a museum--was pure magic.  I peeked into the carving room and admired the historical display bright with color and fantasy.  There were old kiddie cars, lovingly restored, and a small-scale merry-go-round for tots.  Inside the roundhouse where workers once assembled mechanical wonders and shipped them as far away as Tahiti, the 1916 #1 Special carousel was a sight to behold. Thirty-six handcarved horses, over 580 lights, illuminated heads and handpainted scenic panels added to its magnificence.

"Can adults ride?” I asked the attendant.

“Sure!” she replied and pointed to one of the larger and wilder-looking outer horses.  “Climb onto Big Billy there.”

The crazed-looking stallion creaked as I swung my leg over his saddle and I instantly regretted the second beef on weck—a Buffalo area specialty—I’d polished off at lunch.

But no time to reconsider.  The attendant hit the switch and Billy surged up and forward so fast I wondered fleetingly whether his last name might be Seabiscuit.  Then I gave up any thought other than holding onto the brass pole with both hands.
At 40 feet in diameter, whirling at 6.5 revolutions a minute--well, you do the math.

Flying around and around to the carnival piping of the Wurlitzer organ was sheer glee once I got used to it.  I laughed out loud, caught myself and then let it rip.  Why not?  There was no one here but me and the attendant who jigged her knees and conducted the Wurlitzer with an enthusiastic air baton.  I closed my eyes, felt the breeze on my face and channelled the spirit of my Cossack ancestors.
I drop by the Herschell Carrousel Factory Museum whenever I can. It's always my birthday--and summertime--aboard the 1916 #1 Special.

The Herschell Carrousel Factory Museum is on the New York State and National Registers of Historic Sites.

In the carving room, local artisans like Bill Miller demonstrate techniques on lightweight basswood.

It's hard to believe that these beautiful carousel horses are not made from fiberglass or plastic.

The Herschell carousel museum houses the Mary W. Lockman Collection of hand-carved carousel animals.

Once Around is Never Enough! - Allan Herschell Company motto

Buffalo Gal

Magritte at the Albright-Knox.

Cole's on Elmwood.

Still carrying on my not-so-secret love affair with Buffalo, an affair that shows no sign of cooling any time soon. This time, a stroll down Elmwood Avenue, the sidewalk scattered with with gold gingko leaves, to our favorite Buffalo hangout, Cole's.  Robbie at the old (1934) bar--dark wood, college memorabilia, antique carousel horses--pulled us a couple of pints while we waited for a table.
Anyone who thinks Buffalo's dead hasn't been in Elmwood Village at lunchtime lately. Even midweek, parking spots and restaurant seating were at a premium. The prices help. Burger specials at Cole's were going for $6 and $7 but I had to have the Buffalo combo: a beef on weck (weck is a roll sprinkled with caraway and coarse salt) au jus and Buffalo wings. B-wings are available around the planet now but I find they're most delectable in the city they were invented in.
Later we browsed the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, its neoclassical exterior containing some excellent 20th century (think Pollock, Giacometti, Johns) art including one of the scariest pieces I've seen, Rene Magritte's The Voice of Space (1928). The second floor is full of new contemporary acquisitions, a great place to take kids on spring break. The back of the gallery is actually the front, with two impressive caryatid porches gazing out over Olmsted's sweeping Delaware Park and the skateboarders and lovers exploring its lakeside paths. Buffalo, you're always such a pleasure.