Welcome, new subscribers!
I felt the need to say that because last week’s newsletter brought over 100 of you here to sign up for my weekly inbox intrusion, bringing total subscribers to about 1,700 of my best friends. Are we all still on for coffee on Friday? Who’s buying?
And remember, my content is free because I don’t want to take your money except in the Spring when I will literally come to your house and force you to buy my book while I threaten you with the business end of a pigeon. I’ll leave it up to you to decide which end is the business end.
Let’s talk less about avian violence and more about Pittsburgh!
1. Words have meaning
MacKenzie Scott (formerly Bezos) donated a historical sum to the Urban League of Greater Pittsburgh— $6 million, the largest donation in its century-long history. As you know, Scott has been on a mission since her divorce to give away almost all of her money as fast as she can. That’s actually not that easy to do when you have as much money as she does, because your money is constantly making more money.
As I’ve mentioned before, KDKA’s Twitter account is awash in some really fringe followers, so fringe that they eat hate for all their meals and wash them down with giant gulps of racism. So I tend to avoid the replies to KDKA’s tweets, especially the ones they publish merely to generate engagement, regardless of the quality of that engagement. But I decided to click into the replies of their tweet announcing this donation, and of course, there were the usual dog-whistles. There was also one reply from a local man that perfectly illustrates the state of discourse. That is, the loudest most confident people are often the most achingly … not smart.
Forget that Bezos-of-the-penis-rockets wasn’t rich, and Amazon didn’t exist when she married him. I’ll even let “women” slide because it could be a typo. But, what, pray tell, does this yinzer think philanthropist means? Not to go all, “Webster’s defines ‘marriage’ as …”-reception toast-y on you, but philanthropist means a person who gives their money away for the welfare of others. The end. There is no more.
Carnegie did it (with big big flaws in his reasoning) and MacKenzie Scott is doing it. Pittsburgh is fortunate she has taken any of our local organizations into her fold and we will be a stronger, and hopefully more equitable city because of it.
But my main point is this: READ A BOOK.
My secondary point is this: The Penis Rockets* is 100 percent my new band name. Ironically, we are an all-girl rock band.
*This is where I expect about 56 people to go, “Wait. What the hell did I subscribe to?”
2. Don’t call it a comeback
In other news, I’ve agreed to contribute a quarterly column to Pittsburgh Magazine! This time focusing on Pittsburgh history. As some of you recall, I wrote a humor column for the mag for a number of years before I resigned to recharge my creative batteries, write novels, and return to college for a second degree. My batteries are recharged, my debut novel will be published next year, and I finished my second undergrad degree and am now in the throes of my Master’s work … and I do mean THROES.
I regularly fling myself to my bed, brain-tired from research, and question why the hell I’m doing this shit to myself. Then I fall into a Pittsburgh history wormhole and I remember. The goal, always, to use history, specifically applied history, to shed light on Pittsburgh’s past in a way that positively impacts Pittsburgh’s future. I’m looking forward to writing about Pittsburgh’s history in my usual funny**, breezy narrative style and I think you’ll both laugh and learn.
My first column involves not too distant of history — only going back about 40 years to dive into a fun incident involving one of Pittsburgh’s most beloved icons. Stay tuned!
** If you just threw finger quotes in the air and sarcastically said “funny,” I’ll be there in five minutes with that business end of the pigeon. Spoiler alert: it’s not the pointy end.
3. I don’t know how to feel
I’m working (as in going to start any day now) on this year’s Yinzer Holiday Gift Guide and one item that won’t be on the list is … this:
I need to lie down. I’ll be back.
Okay, the title of this piece is “Ladies Line Was Too Long” and I can’t decide how to feel. There is a part of me that absolutely loves it and I feel like that part is beating the everloving shit out of the part of me that is clutching its pearls all, “Goodness gracious, Maude, look at this!”
I mean, no one is wearing those kind of heels and what looks to be a garter?? to a Steelers game, but, also, yeah, yinzer ladies would absolutely do this if the situation were dire and called for it. And I guess that is pretty much the only posture that would work while using that particular depository. I can’t say for certain; I’ve never peed in a urinal, but I am in my post-divorce YOLO years, so who knows what 2023 will bring.
The 12 x 12 print is available in an Etsy shop called … Urinal Chicks and you are out of your mind if you think that isn’t my new new band name.
Aaaaaand the pearl-clutching side has been defeated. I officially love it. Sometimes you just have to embrace your inner trash person.
(h/t @VannevarB on Twitter)
4. Kris Letang isn’t here for your yinzer driving shenanigans
The Pittsburgh Penguins were interviewed by team reporter Michelle Crechiolo about the best places to eat and visit in Pittsburgh. All the usual places and restaurants pop up and there’s definitely enough information in there to assist you with all of your Sidney Crosby stalking needs.
Beyond their restaurant and neighborhood recommendations, Kris Letang (French for The Tang) has some important advice for yinzers:
"You can't slow down when you go into a tunnel," he exclaimed with a laugh. "It's not like Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote where it's a fake tunnel. You're not going to ram the wall. It's all good. Wear your seatbelt. Nothing is going to happen."
Sounds like something someone who has painted a fake tunnel onto a mountainside would say.
“Nothing is going to happen.” Sure, Jan.
Next up, I hope they ask the Pens about zipper merging and the Pittsburgh Left. Just let all that rage out, boys.
(h/t @ScatArch on Twitter)
5. You lose, loser.
I hope you didn’t have any delusions about winning any Pittsburgh-themed Halloween costume contests this year, because this guy won everything:
Even if you took home a coveted cheap plastic Best Costume award at your friend Bill’s apartment party, you should just mail it to Fern Hollow Bridge Bus guy. No, wait. I’m getting a report that — yes. Yes. No. Send your award to this guy instead:
I love Pittsburghers. We just … go all in. Email me some of your Burghy costumes from this year. I want to see more.
6. I see your triple word score and I raise you a checkmate
I’m a pretty perfect person, she wrote while eating a salad at her keyboard to offset the two previous meals of candy, but my one weak spot is this …
I don’t know how to play Monopoly.
Like, at all. Have I played it? Yes. A bunch of times? Yes. Have I won? Yes. Do I understand how I won or what the little buildings are or what the point of the game is or if there is even strategy involved? I do not.
Therefore, pretty much my only enthusiasm for the new Pittsburgh-themed Monopoly game from Hasbro was that maybe the tokens would be tiny Pittsburgh landmarks or items of interest like Smiley Cookies or pierogies or ketchup bottles. Or maybe the hotels (they are hotels, right? Those little houses or whatever?) would look like the William Penn.
Well, the board is here, already up in the Eat’n Park shop and …
I have had a seizure before so I can say this and get away with it: This board is so busy it makes me feel like I’m going to have a seizure if I look at it too long. Just so much going on at once and no white space upon which to rest, so your eyeballs have to bounce around and around looking for shelter. This might seem that way only to me, again, because I don’t actually understand the game.
How about the tokens?
Oh. The same. I guess we could call the ship the USS Requin, the hat Carnegie, the dog CMU, the wheelbarrow Frick, the shoe Franco, the thimble a slag heap, and the cat my worst nightmare***? What about the buildings?
Well this is disappointing. Not even little Fort Pitt Blockhouses. On the bright side, I don’t have to care about this game enough to learn how to really play it. But if you invite me over to play, please be ready for me to say things like, “I’m commandeering the U.S. Steel Tower for my army barracks and I’m taking the Duquesne Incline from you via eminent domain. Give me your Draw 4s, king me, and go to jail.”
I win every time. It’s a gift.
***It’s not that I hate cats. It is that cats hate me. They smell my fear and instead of being calm and cool to reassure me, they try to scratch my eyes literally out of their sockets. I believe they may be in cahoots with the pigeons.
7. And that’s all for today
I have so much to do. School. Book. Mapping project. Column. A few speaking engagements to prepare for. Thesis prep. A third trip to Florida at the invitation of NASA to try to see the Artemis launch. I swear on everything sacred on this earth that I will kick that rocket all the way to the moon myself if it doesn’t liftoff this time.
Hell hath no fury like a space nerd scorned thrice.
THRICE!
Have a great week! Don’t let the time change suck out your soul! And I’ll see you back here next Wednesday. There’s no customer service line this week because I can’t imagine anything I’ve written here would cause you any distress or anger unless you’re a cat person**** or a bird person or a Monopoly person, in which case, I don’t really want to be your friend anyway.
Ciao!