Mayor blasts critics, clarifies plan.

By Hardy Astrom

After enduring a week of disapproval regarding what has been described as a “fluffy” anti-poverty plan, Byron Brown held a press conference on the steps of City Hall to address his critics. He brought with him a cast of a dozen unemployed or homeless city residents to help explain his plan. The effect, for most in attendance, was confusing.

His life is about to get worse.

“To say my anti-Poverty plan is without substance is political back stabbing and nothing less,” Brown said. “There is an apparent need to spell things out more clearly and, with the help of these people, I will fill any remaining seats on the bandwagon of success.”

‘These people’ referred to the uncomfortable group standing behind Brown.  The reason for their uneasiness became clear as, one by one, Brown called them forward to illustrate his plan.

“I will refer you to page 67 in the Buffalo Poverty Reduction Blueprint,” said the Mayor.  As those in attendance fingered through a plan that included pictures of Red Skelton’s infamous Tramp character as well as Charlie Chaplin, Brown read from his copy.

“Poor people are not inherently funny but they are often quite entertaining!  We need to embrace what we have in Western New York,” Brown read. “And we should celebrate the successes—as well as the profound failures.”  The crowd of over 100 curious citizens and reporters looked on in amazement as Brown put on a top hat, pointed a cane to the group of nervous underprivileged behind him, and commanded, “Let the show begin!”

At which point the seemingly unrehearsed group began to attempt individual feats of confusing behavior.  An elderly gentleman repeatedly removed his dental plates and bit his own nose, a woman with severely swollen ankles began either a tap dance or a very painful soft shoe, and a very thin woman balancing a plate on her nose staggered and crashed to the cement before being helped, bleeding from the chin, to her feet to try again.

Brown smiled and encouraged the crowd, clapping maniacally, while people looked on in shock, as the unfortunate performers illustrated why many citizens are generally afraid of them.

“Never mind the smell!” yelled Brown.  “You are witness to the vehicle that will eradicate poverty in Buffalo (pause for effect) …forever!”  And then, as if to eradicate any hope that might still be lingering in the crowd of onlookers, an amputee in a wheelchair attempting to juggle, rolled violently down the steps of City Hall.

He lay awkwardly with his remaining leg twisted over his shoulder, moaning in pain.

Brown continued on, unphased.  “To lift our country out of the Great Depression, Franklin Roosevelt created jobs and rebuilt America to what it once was.  He built brick roads to recovery, and I bring you the resurgence of the Street Performer!”

A gentleman who would not identify himself walked off the steps, disgusted with the antics of the Mayor.  “I’ve been a pipe fitter for 22 years,” he said.  “I’ll clean bathrooms before I dance for him.”

Brown ended the show by singing a discomfiting rendition of R. Kelly’s “I Believe I Can Fly.”

Social Service representatives, who arrived as ambulance sirens blared, began helping the ‘performers’ off Brown’s stage. They admonished the Mayor for exploiting the needy.  “He needs to do his job,” said Jon Bendert from the City Mission.  “He’s completely out of touch”.

Brown refused to take questions after the event.