I’m hobbling along today, not quite firing on all cylinders. In fact, the coffee I had just made the cylinders which were firing do so more erratically, so that I may be even more unfocused that I would have been if I’d avoided it. This will be my excuse if this posting is less than coherent.
Now that we’re past the setup, I can get to the point: I’m tired because I flew home late from Pittsburgh last night!! Yes, not your usual sunny vacation destination, but “Picksburgh, ‘n’ ‘at” has the added benefit of my buddy David.
David and I have been friends for quite a few years now. He showed up at our wedding, despite the fact that he wasn’t officially invited. Of course, his brother was in the wedding party, so this was really my bad. But since then he’s been a really great and true friend. Despite his numerous attempts to kill me.
Briefly, I’ve narrowly averted death when David and I:
- Went kayaking in Casco Bay and the wind picked up, throwing waves into my little flatwater boat, where I could conceivably have drowned 1/2 mile from shore,
- went hiking in the Middlesex Fells Reservation during a blizzard, within sight of Interstate 93,
- went hiking up the Cohos Trail in N.H., a singularly remote and primitive trail paved almost entirely in Moose poop, for two nights in the rain,
- and surely several other occasions which will be teased out of my memory by intensive therapy and psychotropic drugs.
So I flew out to Pittsburgh this weekend to finally see where David grew up, and has now settled down with his lovely wife, Heather. And how did David try to kill me this time?
Kielbasa!!
We’d talked about me coming out for a visit for a couple of years, and his enticements usually involved cheap food and beer. What can I say, he knows me. But I knew before I left that he would make me earn my grub.
David and Heather picked me up at the airport, three hours later than expected (my original flight to Laguardia was delayed so many times, the nice lady at the counter got me another flight through Regan in Washington – a happy benefit! From the gate and plane, I saw the Washington Monument, Capital Dome, National Cathedral, Pentagon, and Arlington National Cemetery – and I STILL got to Pittsburgh before my original flight got to NY). We went directly to Primanti Brothers for dinner. If you’ve clicked through the link, you’ve already realized, to your horror/delight, that the sandwiches come with fries andcole slaw ON THE SANDWICH. The only question left is what meat to include. And I chose cheese with…
Kolbassi. Yeah, that’s Kielbasa to us Yankees.
Pittsburgh’s ethnic population runs equal parts Italian/German/Polish, so I got a two-fer!
I slept in late because David forgot to reset the guest room clock, which worked out well for him, since he’s not really a morning person. Heather went off to visit her sister at college, leaving David and I to explore the city on bikes! I hadn’t ridden a bike in two years or so, but it was as easy as remembering to do something that you learned to do once and never forgot despite years of not doing it. If only there were a convenient phrase for this situation…
We went to the Strip District, where trains used to unload all their cargo for the city. It’s now lined with ethnic shops and restaurants, and was teeming with people. We parked and walked. I’ll never remember the names of all the places we went, and you probably won’t know where I’m talking about anyway, so I’ll just say it was a lot of fun, and I would have given myself a coronary had I not eaten breakfast beforehand.
Now that I think about it, this really is shaping up in my head to be a post about “What I Ate in Pittsburgh”. Maybe a change of tone is in order…
It was wonderful to hang out with David for the first time since his wedding last April. We got caught up quickly and it was like we’d never moved hundreds of miles from each other. It was also nice to be on a bike again, even if it was Heather’s cruiser with the upright handle bars and dropped top tube to accommodate my skirt. And while we did go through some sketchy neighborhoods, and nearly couldn’t unlock the security cable after hitting the Warhol Museum (Summation: Warhol = awesome; most everyone else = pretentious and predictable), I think I can safely say that my life was never in any serious danger. But I’ll get over it.
We rode all over the city: to Point State Park where the Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers meet to form the Ohio; to Penn Brewery for great German beers, a Pork Schnitzel sandwich and potato pancakes. Later in the evening we drove to the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern, a Polish bar/club, for the Polish Platter, which, I don’t think I need to tell you, included Kolbassi. We topped off the night with David’s hilarious friend Steve at Nico’s Recovery Room, where we drank pitchers of Yuengling in the booth behind the Karaoke mic. There’s nothing like being the living backdrop for truly terrible singing. It did make me feel better about my own ability to belt a dulcet tone, especially since I didn’t get up to submit it for comparison. All in the name of charity, you understand… My Fred Schneider would have killed.
We went to his church the next day, Hot Metal Bridge Church, which was actually meeting across town, in an unheated Presbyterian church on the steep ridge over the city, known as Mt. Washington. It was wonderful. Despite the lack of heat (it actually felt warmer outside), the place was packed with every shape, size and color of believers. The Bible was preached unashamedly, and we were encouraged to pray for new thoughts as well as discipline for the Word. I was sold the moment he quoted C.S. Lewis, and talked about discussing the allegory in the Chronicles of Narnia with his 7 year old son. I was sincerely blessed by the service, and not only felt at home, but felt like this is what Home will look like someday.
Did I mention that the congregation contains an inordinate number of punks, and is associated with the Christian tattoo shop called In The Blood? Did I mention that one of them runs Bible Fight Club, where they openly debate the really hard questions? Did I mention that there was lunch served downstairs after the service, which included…
Kielbasa?!?!
And no weekend would be complete without some home renovation. The church is helping to repair homes for needy folks, and so David and I went after lunch to do some work on a roof. We only expected to drop by for an hour, but when we showed up, the other team that was there (from another organization) all took off, and it was up to just us to finish nailing down tarpaper.
I’d like to amend an earlier statement: climbing the steep, poorly-secured aluminum ladders to the roof, past close-strung electrical wires, MORE than counts toward life-threatening activity in David’s presence. But Steve showed up and we finished in plenty of time to get home, change, and get to the airport in plenty of time to see…
BERNADETTE PETERS ON MY FLIGHT TO JFK!!!!!
She’s a little thing, with TONS of curly red hair, and seemed very nice. I say seemed because there was no way I was going to introduce myself after three days without shaving and smelling like I’d worked outside for two hours nailing tarpaper. A girl on her cell phone behind me did, however, and I overheard her telling her friend how gracious she was. You have to appreciate a class act.
Well, I treasured all these memories as I sat at my gate in New York, waiting an extra hour and a half for our plane to even board, before waiting another forty minutes in line to take off. I got home at 1:15 a.m. but it was all worth it. Thank you David and Heather!!
I REGRET NOTHING!!!