But were you actually listening?

Once more, I’ll remind you of a few facts.

Western New York is separated from Canada—Ontario to be exact—by a measly river.

Sure, the Niagara River does have some impressive waterfalls, but at some points along its 36-mile course, it looks like a mere stream.

And when it comes to stanching the flow of people, ideas, and…love, that little stream doesn’t stand a chance.

Again, you’ve heard this in the past, but I do enjoy repeating myself.

Buffalo and Toronto share a public media network—Buffalo Toronto Public Media—that serves both Southern Ontario and Western New York.

Western New Yorkers are far more likely to get their morning cup of joe from Tim Hortons than from Dunkin’.

Labatt Blue, the most Canadian of beers, is brewed in part at the Genesee Brewery—in Rochester, New York.

Similarly, The Tragically Hip, the most Canadian of bands, has a popular tribute band—in Buffalo.

The Triple-A affiliate of the Toronto Blue Jays plays in Buffalo. During COVID, the actual Toronto Blue Jays played in Buffalo.

Approximately 21 percent of Canada’s population lies within the 75-mile radius considered by the NFL to be the Buffalo Bills’ home market, explaining this map.

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But as this article so eloquently points out, all of the above is thin culture.

How about thick culture?

What is life truly like on the international border?

I asked if you were listening for a reason—because that’s where the answer lies.

The Buffalo Sabres of the NHL play both the Canadian and American national anthems before every game, even if that game is between two American teams.

On April 28, 2026, before a playoff matchup with the Boston Bruins, the microphone malfunctioned during the Canadian national anthem.

And here’s what 19,070 (mostly) Americans had to say about the situation.

Because that’s how we roll on an international border.

The post That’s How We Roll on an International Border! appeared first on ComposeMD.

It’s only fitting, as the game was part of the quintessential American event—gambling on kids playing basketball.

You know it as March Madness.

The participants, of course, were the University of Iowa and the University of Nebraska.

But this isn’t a sports site—if you want to read about Iowa’s Ben McCollum and his inspiring ascension from coaching Division II or football-crazed Nebraska and its belated ascension from shooting hoops like it was in Division II, check out The Athletic.

This is a Rust Belt site, where stereotypes are shattered by giving little guys a voice.

And while Iowa and Nebraska are not exactly in the Rust Belt, they are undoubtedly victims of misrepresentation, in that flyover sort of way.

So rather than listen to coastal journalists ramble on about cornfields, farm boys, and xenophobia, I figured I’d do something boring—tell the truth.

The University of Iowa is located in Iowa City.

As of the 2020 Census, the town was 7.3% Asian, 6.7% from two or more races, and 3.0% from other races. Nationally, those numbers were 5.92%, 4.09%, and 0.51%, respectively. (The concept of race is garbage, but allow me to play the game.)

Looking to sample Indian, Mexican, Salvadoran, or Japanese fare? How about French, Korean, Thai, Middle Eastern, or West African? Try Iowa City.

The University of Iowa Hospitals & Clinics (UIHC) is among the best centers in the country.

The university is also known for the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, which between alumni and faculty boasts over 40 Pulitzer Prize winners.

You can thank the same school for Tom Brokaw, Ashton Kutcher, and Caitlin Clark.

As a final point, ACT, Inc., the developer of the standardized test for college readiness, is headquartered in town.

The University of Nebraska is located in Lincoln.

In 2025, Lincoln was recognized by the national nonprofit Welcoming America with a four-star designation for openly embracing newcomers, the only other such city being San Mateo, California.

The entire state of Nebraska, in fact, tops all US states in terms of refugee arrivals per capita.

It follows then that Lincoln is home to Ethiopian, Nepali, and Afghani cuisine, among many others.

The university, a major research institution, has students from something like 127 countries.

You can also thank the school for Johnny Carson, Warren Buffett, and Evan Williams (the co-founder of Twitter).

Finally, my best friend from high school—CliffsNotes—is a Lincoln export.

So was the most Midwestern game of all time actually intellectual?

Or, even worse, was it…international?!

(Note: Iowa won.)

The post The Most Midwestern Game of All Time appeared first on ComposeMD.

WAB, you may or may not know, refers to Wins Above Bubble, a metric used by the NCAA to help decide which “bubble teams” participate in its end-of-the-season college basketball tournament and which stay home.

This was the brainchild of one Seth Burn, a self-professed math geek who likes to gamble on sports and blog about them.

On February 1, 2015, he first posted about WAB, the statistic he made up.

The point was that in a sport where teams play disparate schedules, sometimes the only way to measure relative performance is with numbers.

Make that good numbers.

WAB measures a team’s number of wins compared to how many wins the average bubble team would have been expected to have against the same schedule.

More specifically, and without getting into the heavy math I won’t pretend to understand, each game a team plays is assigned a win probability equal to a theoretical bubble team’s chance of winning that game. This number accounts for the opponent’s strength and the game’s location. If the win probability is 95 percent (0.95), such a win amounts to a WAB of 1 minus 0.95, or 0.05. A loss would equal 0 minus 0.95, or a WAB of -0.95. Alternatively, if the win probability is 0.15, the WAB for a victory would be 1 minus 0.15, or a more meaningful 0.85. A loss in this case would translate into a WAB of -0.15.

In other words, the more positive the WAB, the better. Obviously, a negative WAB is bad.

Fast forward 11 years, and what started as an obscure blog post now contains a number that is highly correlated with not only team selection but also team seeding.

But let’s pause for a moment.

This feel-good blogger story, even with its wildly successful outcome, is at best fringe.

In a world with war, disease, and natural disasters, obsessing about the fate of 18-year-old kids who play a game that a few people in one country care about is esoteric.

Even worse is when such pursuits consume one’s day, generating little to no revenue.

There’s an expression for that: waste of time.

I’m assuming that Seth Burn has a real job, the kind that pays the bills.

But as far as I can tell, he also continues to prioritize wasting his time.

And thanks to people like him, I’m inclined to keep wasting mine.

Acknowledgement: Belmont University student Sohan Shrikhande contributed to this article. He claims he was in class at the time.

The post How WAB Saved My Blog appeared first on ComposeMD.

As a reminder, I grew up in Connecticut, where the dearth of professional sports teams left little choice but to obsess over kids throwing a ball in a bucket.

Later in life, I moved to the Great Lakes region, where the abundance of abandoned steel mills left little choice but to obsess over that thing known as rust.

So without further ado, here’s the first annual Rust Belt Guide to March Madness.

The First Four

To whittle a field of 68 teams down to 64, we need the so-called First Four, or four games to find four losers.

And what better place to lose than Dayton, Ohio? The annual host of the First Four has lost nearly 50 percent of its population since 1960.

First and Second Rounds

Among the eight sites hosting these games, three have varying degrees of Rust Belt credibility.

The first, Buffalo, is a charter member. For Michigan fans, the NCAA’s desire to keep teams close to home means while they might have dreamed of games in San Diego or Tampa, they got stuck with B-Lo. (By cutting through Canada along the northern shore of Lake Erie, the driving time from Ann Arbor (MI) to Buffalo is less than five hours.)

The second, St. Louis, may raise a few eyebrows given its non-Great-Lakes location. But I went to college there—trust me, it’s the Rust Belt.

Finally, there’s Philadelphia, which is probably too far east and slightly too nice to qualify, but population loss, extremely angry sports fans, and violent crime keep it in the discussion.

The Regionals (Sweet Sixteen and Elite Eight)

Among the four sites hosting these games, one warrants a closer look, even though such a look is typically met with incredulity.

Chicago‘s immense wealth and economic productivity mask a few red flags—Lake Michigan, shuttered steel mills, population loss, and a proclivity toward homicides.

Let’s just say the rust-dar has been triggered.

The Final Four

This year’s host, Indianapolis, is an outlier.

It’s in a Rust Belt state, though the city itself has never truly lost population. In fact, it’s growing at a healthy clip.

That said, no one brags about living in Indianapolis, so it gets an honorary rust-orate.

The Teams

Using the Rust Belt mnemonic My Wife Is Pissed Off Knowing My Mistakes Include Not Working, these are the teams—by state—that have applied rust remover and gone dancing.

Minnesota

None

Wisconsin

University of Wisconsin

Illinois

University of Illinois

Pennsylvania

Lehigh University

University of Pennsylvania

Villanova University

Ohio

Miami University (Miami of Ohio)

Ohio State University

University of Akron

Wright State University

Kentucky

University of Kentucky

University of Louisville

Michigan

Michigan State University

University of Michigan

Missouri

Saint Louis University

University of Missouri

Indiana

Purdue University

New York

Hofstra University*

Long Island University*

St. John’s University*

Siena University

(*From Downstate New York, making the appearance on this list rather fraudulent)

West Virginia

None

To all the cities and teams representing the Rust Belt, remember, we’ve lost enough already.

Addendum on April 6, 2026: Thank you to the University of Michigan for not losing, aka winning it all!

The post The Rust Belt Guide to March Madness appeared first on ComposeMD.

The saga began about two and a half decades ago, when in my mid-twenties, I learned there are other countries.

This is not something I discovered in school or on the world news. I learned it the hard way, at a sports bar in New York City where a bunch of Europeans insisted on calling what they were watching football.

My understanding, as you might imagine, was that football should be played with the hands. I mean, Jerry Rice wasn’t catching the ball with his feet.

In any event, I eventually withdrew into my American shell, marrying a girl from West Virginia (the aforementioned wife) and gambling heavily on an amateur basketball tournament in March.

From there, things got even worse, as we moved from the New York City area to somewhere more properly American: Western New York.

I was in my element, listening to locals rave about the regional cuisine.

There was the white hot, a delicacy that outsiders might refer to as a hot dog.

There was also the Garbage Plate, a potpourri of said hot dogs—or hamburgers—with French fries, macaroni salad, and meat sauce. The concoction paired well with another local favorite called Genesee Light, courtesy the Genesee Brewery.

But along the way, something changed.

I started to feel self-conscious about my foreign policy knowledge, or lack thereof.

Initially, I tried the Sarah Palin approach, pointing westward into Canada as proof of my worldliness. Later, I took every opportunity to mention that one of our neighbors was Dutch—he promptly moved back to the Netherlands.

Feeling uncultured and helpless, the obvious finally occurred to me. To prove that I was like the Dos Equis guy, I would adopt the alternative form of football, the kind played in a far-off land called England in something called the Premier League.

I just needed, of course, a Premier League team to call my very own.

But which one?

And that’s where the bizarre obsession came into play.

Listen, you can’t really blame me. After all, I live in the land of Kodak, a company that once employed 60,000 locally and now employs a couple stray dudes, I believe.

In this town—Rochester, New York—we frequent businesses at an old pickle factory, an old cannery, some place that used to build pianos, and another that made radios. A rite of passage involves walking through the abandoned subway system, now home to standing water and state-of-the-art graffiti.

In other words, could someone like me truly get behind a team from London? London, Ontario, maybe, but the capital of England didn’t stand a chance.

Rust Belt loves Rust Belt, and that landed me in the northeast of England, in a city known as Newcastle upon Tyne.

The burg on the River Tyne, not far from the North Sea, had made a name for itself by mining coal, building ships, and embracing heavy industry.

The city’s population peaked at 340,155—in 1951.

In the 1970s, deindustrialization began to cripple the town.

Despite subsequent revitalization, thanks to Brexit, the region has been painted as ignorant and xenophobic.

The local football club, Newcastle United, was founded in the late 1800s and hasn’t won anything worth bragging about in decades.

It all sounded so wonderfully familiar.

Sure, Newcastle United is owned largely by the Saudi Public Investment Fund, raising concern about the country’s history of human rights violations.

But I’m privileged to know the real America.

No one here actually gives a sh*t about human rights.

Deep down, we only care about money (and oil).

So to my new favorite Premier League team, nab the cash and win one for the Gipper!

The post How I Finally Chose My Premier League Team appeared first on ComposeMD.

I learned this the other day when, roaming around near Lake Ontario, I stumbled upon an afterthought.

It all started with the usual string of businesses: Dunkin’, Chipotle, McDonald’s, and the constant reminder I’m in the vicinity of Canada—Tim Hortons.

I hung a left and noted an administrative building belonging to Rochester Regional Health, as in the type of place where people who were popular in high school collude to torture healthcare professionals.

But it was something across the street that really caught my attention.

I was in a suburb of Rochester (NY) called Irondequoit, known like many towns in Western New York for oppressive property taxes, the kind that flood public schools and make private schools like the one I was looking at struggle to find students.

The place was called Bishop Kearney, and in 2014, the small Catholic school was bailed out from the brink by local billionaire Tom Golisano, the founder of Paychex and husband of tennis great Monica Seles.

In any event, the institution of a few hundred students stayed afloat.

A couple years later, in 2016, Bishop Kearney started something known as BK Selects. In addition to maintaining its longstanding day program for locals, the school would enter the boarding school business, specifically to launch a girls’ hockey program.

Soon, recruits from all over the country—and world—began to pour in, using the program as a stepping stone to land Division I hockey scholarships.

A decade later, it became obvious that the same athletes were using Bishop Kearney as a stepping stone to something else—the 2026 Winter Olympics.

A grand total of eight Bishop Kearney alumnae found themselves involved in the proceedings in Milan-Cortina.

One played for Czechia.

Two played for Germany.

And five played for the United States, comprising over 20 percent of the American roster.

On February 19, 2026, that roster won an Olympic medal.

It was gold.

You’re welcome.*

—

*Note: The author has difficulty on ice skates.

The post You’re Welcome for This Olympic Medal appeared first on ComposeMD.

The mere occurrence of this question within my cerebral wiring quite obviously suggests pathology.

Or does it?

Does Western New York, aka the Eastern Rust Belt, have some sort of connection to the Caribbean island that gave us the most streamed artist on the planet?

Um…yeah.

Let’s rewind the clock to 1901, when nearby Buffalo was hosting the Pan-American Exposition.

There, tragically, William McKinley would become the third American president to be assassinated. This was the same man, of course, who in 1898 oversaw the American victory over Spain in the Spanish-American War. As a result, the US got some new territory.

Puerto Rico, anybody?

Over the ensuing decades, Puerto Ricans would populate cities on the American mainland.

They preferred some spots over others, clearly choosing wisely.

As per the 2020 Census, among American cities with over 200,000 residents, a certain city on Lake Ontario has the highest percentage of Puerto Ricans relative to the total population (15.3%).

Yeah, it’s Rochester. (Number five on that list, at 10%, is Buffalo.)

What does this mean?

If you want to be able to choose among a long list of Puerto Rican restaurants, come to the Flower City. Seriously.

In the summer, check out the Rochester Puerto Rican Festival, around since 1969.

If you’re in the mood for reggaetón on the beach, head to the aforementioned lake.

Should you overdo it and end up in the hospital, there’s a strong possibility your nurse will be Puerto Rican. Sometimes, they hand out souvenirs to their coworkers.

And if you want to listen to some Bad Bunny, make your way to the laser light show featuring his music at the planetarium. (I’m not making this up.)

Speaking of Bad Bunny, the dude has to be singing about Western New York. (I might be making this up.)

—

“Debí Tirar Más Fotos”

Debí tirar más fotos.

I should have taken more photos.

C’mon now—is this not a shout out to Kodak?

—

“Dakiti”

¿Y de nosotros quién va a hablar? Si no nos dejamos ver.

And who is going to talk about us? If we don’t let ourselves be seen.

Clearly, this advice is geared towards Rust Belt bloggers.

—

“Tití Me Preguntó”

Vo’a romperte el corazón. No te enamores de mí.

I’m going to break your heart. Don’t fall in love with me.

This is an obvious warning to Bills fans.

—

So the next time someone claims that we in the Rust Belt are still listening to John Mellencamp, go ahead and tell them that around these parts, it’s all about Latin Trap baby.

Entiendes?

The post What Do Rochester (NY) and Bad Bunny Have in Common? appeared first on ComposeMD.

And as a middle-aged Gen X guy whose formative years were guided by depressing music (grunge anyone?), I’ve put myself in charge.

Let me just summarize a few points in case you don’t read this blog regularly, which—as a pathological truth-teller—I can assure you is a massive number of people:

• The city of Buffalo has lost 52 percent of its population since the 1950 Census.
• Since the current Super Bowl format began in 1966, the Bills have won a grand total of zero of them.
• In the 1990s, the squad lost four Super Bowls in a row, including one on a missed last-second field goal.
• A few years later, the Bills lost a playoff game on a last-second kickoff return for a touchdown.
• The organization subsequently failed to make the playoffs for 17 years in a row, a streak that still stumps mathematicians for having defied all laws of probability.
• Since then, the team has made the playoffs in eight of nine seasons and seven in a row, forming a habit of finding creative and devastating ways to lose.

Given the last point, this playlist for Bills fans should come in handy next January as well.

“Numb” by Linkin Park

With repeated trauma, Chester Bennington knew that only one thing can happen.

And I know

I may end up failing too

But I know

You were just like me, with someone disappointed in you

I’ve become so numb…

“Comfortably Numb” by Pink Floyd

But as Pink Floyd showed, the numbness doesn’t have to be so angry—it can become comfortable.

I have become comfortably numb

I have become comfortably numb

“Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M.

Not everyone likes to sweep their emotions under the rug, preferring instead to get in touch with them. In this tune, Michael Stipe might have also been providing a reminder to hold on to the damn football.

And everybody hurts sometimes

So hold on, hold on…

“Down in a Hole” by Alice In Chains

No one, and I mean no one, could depress an entire generation quite like AIC.

Down in a hole, feelin’ so small

Down in a hole, losin’ my soul

I’d like to fly

But my wings have been so denied

“Something in the Way” by Nirvana

Kurt Cobain had a sixth sense that something was in the way, in this case that being the Bills themselves.

Something in the way, hmm-mmm

Something in the way, yeah, hmm-mmm…

“Black” by Pearl Jam

Eddie Vedder, whether he knew it or not, was singing on behalf of Bills fans to all those players on other teams who will win a Super Bowl.

I know someday you’ll have a beautiful life, I know you’ll be a star

In somebody else’s sky, but why, why

Why can’t it be, oh, can’t it be mine?

“Outshined” by Soundgarden

And Chris Cornell was just singing about Bills fans.

Well I’m feeling that I’m sober

Even though I’m drinking

Well I can’t get any lower

Still I feel I’m sinking

“Linger” by The Cranberries

Dolores O’Riordan was well aware how the pain of a playoff loss can stick around for a while.

Was it just a game to you?

But I’m in so deep

You know I’m such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger?

“Vasoline” by Stone Temple Pilots

Was Scott Weiland somehow predicting that the same thing would happen every year?

Flies in the vasoline we are

Sometimes it blows my mind

Keep gettin’ stuck here all the time

“Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls

And finally, in a shout-out to their hometown team, Goo Goo Dolls seemed to begin their classic song with a lament about the evasive Super Bowl trophy and the early playoff exits.

And I’d give up forever to touch you

‘Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You’re the closest to Heaven that I’ll ever be

And I don’t wanna go home right now

The post A Playlist for Bills Fans appeared first on ComposeMD.

It’s been a year full of adventure, starting with exploring abandoned structures in our hometown of Rochester.

From there, our travels took us to Batavia (NY), site of one of the better Pizza Huts in the Rust Belt.

Finally, we were blessed to sample amazing gas station food, from Speedway to Sheetz to Buc-ee’s.

It’s also been a year of milestones.

The older child finally left the house, claiming he is ready to seize the world. From the outside looking in, evidence to support that claim is lacking. When the goal is the music industry and the transcript reads Bible Study, heads will be scratched.

As for the younger child, there have also been many accomplishments, mostly measured in Amazon packages. Between those and dance, she has proven herself quite capable of pushing back retirement dates. There was only one major argument this year, resolved by her recurrent TikTok scrolling.

Of course, no holiday card is complete without talking about the head(s) of household.

In my case, it’s been another year of wheel spinning and questionable decisions, peppered with flashes of irritability, all in the name of growth.*

And then there is the anchor. She continues to wake up every day and thank the Good Lord that Rochester’s healthcare system does not oppress and demoralize physicians.**

To 2026!

*Of my abdominal girth

**DM me for the truth

The post The Shrikhande Family Holiday Card appeared first on ComposeMD.