So...Pittsburgh

So...Pittsburgh

In light of the senseless acts of violence that were perpetrated by a coward, I feel the need to express my love for my favorite city.

I started going to Pittsburgh on a regular basis as child in love with the Pittsburgh Pirates. As a child with a verbally abusive father (we made up, eventually) I looked at Jim Leyland, Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, Spanky Lavalliere, etc. as role models. So when I got the chance as a member of the Knot Hole Gang (remember Hills department stores yinzers?), I did it.

I sat in the cold, sterile, cookie-cutter Three Rivers Stadium nose bleeds and felt like a Rooney in the owner's box. This was my team, my stadium and my city.

I remember vividly waiting for HOURS in the Three Rivers Stadium parking lots (my 9 year old self may still be there). I remember breaking my first law (*this is not an admission of guilt) when I walked down to the river to pee. I was nervous the police would catch me until at a later game I saw a policeman peeing in the same river (Yinzers rule).

I remember the first time I came thru the Fort Pitt tunnels...just breathtaking. Nothing else needs to be said about that.

I remember chasing dinkus all the way to Pittsburgh for an adult kickball league (um...how many championships did your team win before I joined, dinkus?). I went down expecting a typical beer league played for fun. I do not know why I thought that. This was Pittsburgh, where nothing supercedes sports and our love of them. This was a serious league with real athletes. Blood, sweat and, yes, beer was spilled on those fields. That being said all the players had respect for each other (except for that one player and you know who you are).

My greatest memory with that abusive father took place in Pittsburgh...at a Pirate game. I encourage you read about it here. Thank you for that opportunity Pittsburgh.

My first job out of college was with the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review selling ad space in that grieving neighborhood, the very unique Squirrel Hill. I met hundreds of people in that neighborhood and some really didn't like the Trib, it was the conservative paper and Squirrel Hill is a liberal neighborhood. I knew some of those local owners would never spend a dime with my paper, but it got to the point that I just enjoyed bull shitting with them (it was always sports...always). I pray for those people.

I am sure people think their city is different, is one one-of-a-kind, is the greatest...but you are wrong (kinda kidding). My city full of pierogie-eating, putting fries-on-salad, pop-drinking, buggie-pushing, Italian, Polish, Black, German, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, Methodist, Quaker men and women is better than yours (and yinz can take'at to the bank).

So...just one thing

So...just one thing

Today I was talking with Dinkus, my beautiful and much smarter wife, and she might have changed my life (again).

I was telling her that all I wanted to do was go to Sheetz (if you don’t have one, you are missing out…WaWa can suck it) and house a couple protein bars or a bag of cashews or a protein shake (apparently I am convinced that eating “healthy” cheat foods isn’t wrong) to completely destroy my caloric consumption for the morning, truth be told I would probably do it after lunch too, when I told her I needed some help keeping the craving at bay (what bay btw?).

Her response was amazing and I want everybody to prepare to have your mind blown…seriously…did you put on a shower cap for easy clean up? She asked me if having a healthier lifestyle, better diet, less guilt was worth just one thing, in this case a snack stop. She made it so simple.

Simple is good for me as I am not the brightest tool in the tree. I tend to overcomplicate things and become very overwhelmed to the point that I give up and feel guilty (coughblogcough…coughworkingoutcough) or that I get so stressed I feel the need to wallow in my own filth, er…self-pity.  Her saying that it was just one thing weighed against everything I want made it very achievable. Is that one (or two) protein bar worth the guilt later, or the extra lbs on the scale, hells to the no.

I can not believe how this changed my view in an instant (think of a viewmaster). I mean…damn…I can use this with pretty much everything. Put off my writing another night and sit on the couch…weighed against the stress of wondering what could have been, that one thing is not worth it. Don’t want to get outta bed and brush your teeth at night because you “forgot” again and want to sleep…weighed against morning breath and added trips to the dentist, that one thing is not worth it. Let the beard (if you can call it that) go another day (or six)…weighed against looking like a homeless man who talks to squirrels and later eats them (not that there’s anything wrong with that, is there?), that one thing isn’t worth it. You get the point (and if you don’t, what that f*** is wrong with you?).

I am sure there are a few (ok less than a few) of you still reading this and saying “uh…no shit it is called making good decisions”, but for me, and those like me (God save you), my mind does not make easy connections at times.

Basically it is good that I had Dinkus boil this down to a 5^th grade level. For that Dinkus, I am grateful.

So...nostalgia

So...nostalgia

Nothing is as addictive as nostalgia. Do not believe me (I wouldn't), look at all the reboots on TV, Will and Grace, Murphy Brown and others I assume. Look at the shows now set in the 80s, Stranger Things (it's like Goonies for Horror lovers, oh and my phone corrected things to thongs...huh) and The Goldbergs (it's like The Wonder Years, only shitty, but it has that one guy from that thing).

No matter where you turn we are seeing nostalgia pushed on us...and I LOVE IT! Nothing is as syrupy sweet as seeing Alf pop up in an episode of Mr. Robot (don't google the dad from Alf) or the Delorean show up in the movie Ready Player One (not to be a snob but the book is 1000x better, excuse me whilst I dine on endangered species meat with my diamond encrusted salad spork).

I mean I watched Netflix documentaries on toys...TOYS people and not just the stuff I played with either. I watched about Barbies, Cabbage Patch Kids, etc. because I loved seeing the real clips from the 80s (no really, that's why, seriously).

I mean this stuff WAS my childhood. I remember getting Ram Man from the world of Eternia and then still being excited when my Aunt and Uncle got me a duplicate. I had a bunch of Star Wars toys, that yes had I kept them in their packaging and never played with them, or chewed on them, or melted them (don't judge me) they would be able to pay for my kids' college tuitions. That said this blog post is not about the tens of thousands of dollars that I could use for a vacation in the middle of the ocean...wait...where was I?

But my go to, the one toy I had the most of was GI Joe. I had the action figures, no doubt, but I had vehicles. Vehicles that would make the Pentagon jealous. I had snow mobiles with mounted (and actually firing) rockets. I had tanks (you're welcome). I had (get on the) choppers. Man I loved playing with those guys and I took care of them too. Luke and Vader could get buried in the dirt and left outside, but no way was Shipwreck or Roadblock going to suffer that fate.

I cannot say why these 3.75 inch pieces of colorful plastic hold such a spot in my nostalgia craving mind, but they do. There are times (more than I think are healthy) I find myself wondering what Scarlet and Duke are doing. Does my mother have them somewhere in her house? Are they fighting Cobra in a landfill? Did they finally resolve all that sexual tension between themselves? Really it doesn't matter because they will always be in my memories...right where I left them.

I just hope they do not make some crappy movie about them and cast Channing Tatum...sigh.