Happy hump day, yinzburghers! We have a lot of content today and if I’m going to fit it all into the email without forcing you the added hassle of clicking a “Read the rest…” button, let’s get to it. I’m not being bitchy; I’m one of those who could be reading the most enthralling newsletter and I get to that “Click here to read the rest” and I just …
Get over your verbose self and fit it into the allotted email space, Sharon.
And we’re off!
There are about 15 dominoes that had to fall for me to make this discovery of which I was not previously aware. A few of those dominoes are: 1. addicted to Korean television, 2. cyber-stalking Korean television filming locations on Google Maps until my nebby daughter asks “what are you looking at” to which I slam my laptop shut like I was caught watching shark porn, Chandler Bing, and 3. not having a stitch of a life. But let’s not go too far down that rabbit hole because I already know it leads to you holding my eyes in a pity-stare.
Pohang is a coastal shipping and fishing city in South Korea with a professional K1 “football” team — THAT’S SOCCER, TED LASSO — called the … Pohang Steelers! Named after a Korean iron and steel company.
Their stadium is called The Steel Yard, which I love, and look how cool it is! I am using lots of exclamatory punctuation!!!!!! My mom will be so proud.
Their website is here (I want a scarf from their shop so badly) and yes, you can purchase that cool t-shirt right here. The Pittsburgh Steelers are sucking, so let’s go, Pohang Steelers! 여기 우리가 간다!
Now let’s serious it up in here. Take a seat. Stop your tomfoolery.
Let’s talk about your car’s warranty.
AHHHH! Gotcha. No, let’s talk about Kevin Sousa. Kevin, as you non-rock-dwelling Burghers know, has finally — FINALLY — taken some deserved heat for his decade-long small-plate carousel of pricey poverty-tourism restaurants. Oooh. That was harsh. But I’m in a mood, and every time I tweet about Kevin, I burn a few bridges. Now I’m 47 and out of damns so I might as well fully light these last few sumbitches up.
The Post-Gazette has published roughly 42 trillion words of praise about Kevin since he first appeared on the local scene. Effusive praise. Adoring praise. Tears streaming down their cheeks, their knees raw from prostration praise. (Granted they did finally take Kevin to task back in 2015, but then returned to their regularly scheduled worship before long.)
They tried to bring Burghers to worship at the altar of Kevin for his latest venture — a 30-dollar pizza joint called Mount Oliver Bodega — and the people? Were not having it. They said, not today, Satan. Not after all the promises about Superior Motors. Not after Salt. And the piggy chicken place or was it hot dogs or beverages or something? I don’t know. The carousel spun too fast for me to keep up. I’m old; the spinny rides make me nauseous. The pushback from the public was swift and Hal Klein at Pittsburgh Magazine took note, took names, and asked the hard questions. So did Pittsburgh’s NPR station. As did the mayor of Braddock. So when The Post-Gazette published a SECOND article about Kevin’s new venture — I guess the first one a month earlier wasn’t sufficiently genuflective? — this one nearly 2,000 words long, I thought perhaps it would be a more honest and raw look at Kevin. It? Was not.
It was half an advertisement for his new pizza joint and half giving him a chance to defend himself with zero real pushback. Kevin’s defensive position since the public turned on him has been to bring up his daughter or, in this latest piece, his sobriety. None of that personal stuff is pertinent to the issue. What is pertinent is a clearly evident persistent pattern of bringing expensive food to pre-gentrified or impoverished neighborhoods and using the community’s goodwill as currency he burns through before moving on to the next bucket of cash in the next zip code where he’ll say he’s finally found his passion and that the new neighborhood speaks to his soul.
He’s had over $300,000 from Kickstarter, nearly a million dollars from community and foundation loans and other sources, debt he’s left past partners with, PPP loans, and at every turn, too many writers in this town continue to fall at his feet and even now give him free advertising for his hilariously named “bodega” while talented chefs farming locally and making authentic international dishes remain largely ignored.
Kevin Sousa to Eater in 2017: “I never did anything wrong.” Kevin Sousa to the Post-Gazette in 2021: “I didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m not paraphrasing; those are his literal quotes. Also this he said in The Post-Gazette’s latest:
“I've never owned a building. I've never developed a thing. I've never had any money. I've never said, ‘I'm gonna go into that neighborhood and do that thing.’ Someone pitches you an opportunity to do something you’ve always wanted to do.”
You know what that is? That’s nothing. Gibberish. That’s word salad — for which Kevin will move into your neighborhood, plate it small with half an olive and charge you 45 dollars and may God have mercy on your soul if you request a substitution.
Stop the carousel. A bunch of us want off.
On to lighter fare! Pun intended.
A seaplane landed on the Allegheny River last week and I know what you’re thinking — UNPRECEDENTED! NEWSWORTHY! WERE THEY LOST?! DID THEY STALL OUT AND TRY TO MIRACLE-ON-THE-HUDSON IT? That’s what I was thinking as well, because the local news DID cover it, but the local news also sent a helicopter to cover a random snake sighting in the woods where random snakes live, so who can know? Anyway, apparently it wasn’t a big deal. Seaplanes are allowed to land on our rivers, they just … don’t. At least not these days, however, jump with me into this history wormhole I’m about to open for you into the 1940s when seaplanes on our rivers were so common they only made the news when they involved mishaps or — GASP! — women.
Back in October 1939, a local pilot started a seaplane shuttle business taking passengers from the Allegheny River to the county airport. The inaugural flight was run by pilot Kenneth “Curly” Long. Fast forward two years and Kenneth “Curly” runs into some trouble coming in for a regular river landing in 1941.
Hello, Sister Bridges in the background!
Not a week later, a 22-year-old pilot dove for a landing and misjudged, making the papers for all the wrong reasons and leaving us this spectacular quote: “I’m just starting, and I’m just finishing.”
Some horses you just don’t get back on, eh?
In the 1940s the Pittsburgh Seaplane Base’s chief instructor was a woman in her 20s named Virginia Gibbons. Virginia, who abandoned a writing career, was a badass who loved the Pittsburgh river runways more than the concrete ones. Look at her. Adore her.
She taught hundreds of Pittsburghers to fly seaplanes and was called an “instructress.” If I become a history professor, I’m going to demand people call me that. I assume the title comes with a royal scepter or some cool shit like that. Virginia also taught women, who became known as “Air Mermaids.” One told The Pittsburgh Press in 1945, “I like night flying the best. Pittsburgh looks like a giant spider web, all set with sparkling jewels.” I love that.
There are so many good seaplane stories in the local archives — a rowboat clipped by a landing seaplane in 1944, and a 1954 story about a TV news photographer arriving at a river accident via seaplane. I’m all for more frequent seaplane river landings, so let’s bring that back. But more importantly, when is the Virginia Gibbons biopic starring Millie Bobby Brown getting made? Call me, Netflix.
Related to the snake story, this chyron still makes me laugh.
Snake in Frick Park. Snake. In Frick Park.
That’s like, “Groundhog in ground” or “Squirrel in tree” or “Escaped pet pig from Fayette County on the Turnpike.”
Some things just belong where they belong.
I love you, Pittsburgh. Never change.
It’s that time of year again, folks! The ScareHouse Shake benefitting Make Room for Kids is coming to Burgatory Bar locations starting tomorrow! A portion of the proceeds of every ScareHouse Shake sold goes to the Mario Lemieux Foundation and will be used in our efforts to continue to bring gaming to our city’s hospitalized children. As you can imagine, the pandemic put Make Room for Kids on pause, but we are eager to soon be able to share some exciting news about the program, so stay tuned on that.
In the meantime, help us out by heading to Burgatory and grabbing a ScareHouse Shake before the end of October.
Kids love this shake because it’s cookies and cream flavored and comes with a gummy worm. Adults love this shake because it can be boozed up with chocolate vodka … and comes with a gummy worm. Everybody wins.
The TSA found four loaded guns in carry-ons in four days at Pittsburgh International Airport and in nearly every instance, the traveler said they just FORGOT ABOUT THE GUN.
Are. You. Kidding. Me?
When I fly, I’m the kind of person who is in the security line going, “Did I accidentally pack a gun I don’t own into my carry-on? Did I dream how to make bombs and did I make a bomb in my sleep and then hide it in the soles of my shoes? What if I accidentally say bomb? Don’t say bomb. Don’t say it.” Then I’ll turn to my son and whisper, “Don’t say bomb,” and my son will be like, “Why would I say bomb?!?” and then I’m whisper-shrieking, “YOU JUST DID!” and then my daughter starts paying attention and says, “Why are you guys talking about bombs?” and then the TSA agent is like, “Ma’am, a word? Are you aware your brown family is screaming about bombs, and that you packed four ounces of orange juice and a live grenade in your makeup case?”
I don’t know what the psychology is behind that behavior but it has to be at least adjacent to the fear some otherwise sane people have that they’ll fling themselves over Niagara Falls. One thing I do know is that with this post I am NEVER qualifying for TSA pre-check again. I’m on the list.
Some local events I’ve recently purchased tickets to and you should too! Not an ad.
Doors Open Pittsburgh — This weekend, go inside all the downtown buildings you never normally get to see (vaccination proof required for some buildings).
Trevor Noah at PPG Paints — Coming in April. Heckin’ yes. Presale code is herewego. You didn’t hear it from me.
Dvořák’s New World Symphony by the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra — that’s next year too, but check out any symphony performance. There are lots on the calendar.
That’s it for today folks because we are running dangerously close to needing that “click here to read more” button. Then I’m no better than that wordy bitch Sharon.
See you next week! Don’t say bomb!