Tag: Modern Formations

A triumphant return to an awkward scene

Geez I’m tired.  I shut the water off yesterday morning.  (One must flush wisely in these situations.)  14 hours later water once again flowed through the fully re-routed pipes of my house.  Let it be known that I am indeed a plumbing phenom.  After one month of toil, and $1000 worth of copper, I am finally done with this pipe raising business.

Working 14 hours left me no time to do my main job, which is to be a dad.  With Mom at band practice, the kids were left to their own devices.  This morning I let them sleep-in, since they had gone to bed at an unspeakable hour.  I don’t know what kind of nerds I’m raising, but nothing makes them more angry then being allowed to sleep-in and miss an hour of school.  Kids these days!

Last Friday I returned to the site of this awkward scene where a band called Old Man Markley rocked the United States of America.  Maybe it’s just an Old Man thing, but I do not speak in hyperbole when I say it was one of the top 10 shows I’ve ever seen.  No YouTube videos seem to capture the raw mayhem of their act, but if you focus on the washboard playing in this video, you will get the idea.

Tonight I play my first-ever game of pick-up basketball.  Indeed these are the salad days of my physical resurgence.

Dude, everyone is soooo done with New York.

Last month I accepted my last rental dollar from Shut-In.  To celebrate/mourn the loss of Pittsburgh’s friendliest agoraphobe, we dined at Pho Minh.  Awaiting S.I.’s arrival, I surveyed the neighborhood’s general state of decay.  Plastered with hipster art/music advertising, the adjacent edifice appeared fit for neither habitation nor commerce.  Pondering this catalogical dilemma, I spied a hot babe unlocking the building.  “Would you like a sneak peek?”, she asked, “The gallery crawl is tonight.”  “Uh, ok”, I nodded with bovine acceptance.  After a minute of inspecting my inspection, it occurred to her that a loitering middle aged white man = perv, and that it might be wise to move me along.  Safely outside the building, H.B. resumed her sales pitch.  “20-30 storefront galleries participate in the crawl.  Some even have live music.”  Just then Shut-In arrived, leaving me to file the episode under “hmmmmm”.

Several weeks later I found myself in Burlington, Vermont, on the 2nd floor of a hipster boutique trying on $40 t-shirts.  The gentleman behind the counter lit up when he heard I was from Pittsburgh.  “Shit man”, he raved, “half my friends are moving to Pittsburgh.  The art scene there is exploding.  Pittsburgh and Miami are hot RIGHT NOW.  Dude, everyone is soooo done with New York.”  “Uh, huh”, I nodded.

So there’s that.  More hmmmm I suppose.  For what it’s worth, here in Paris (yeah I said here in Paris), no one seems to be talking about Peetsboorg.