My family began 1983 with a trip to western New York to visit my Uncle Rob and his family.
That’s me in the middle, and my brothers, who are on skis. My glasses were of the oh-so-cool-automatically-darkening-outside variety.
I don’t remember if this was in Olean or Portville, although there are photos of us eating pizza from the Portville Snak Shak: the restaurant which introduced me to the joy of buffalo wings.
My grandpa had made the trip from Ohio, too – I don’t remember if he drove separately, or if grandma was there, or if we all traveled together – and I think I remember him playing pool with Dad and Uncle Rob in a basement room of my aunt and uncle’s house.
This trip was either during the last weekend of winter break, or possibly a bit into January ’83, since I didn’t go back to school immediately due to the Lake Local teachers’ strike.
Goofaceazon 