May 29, 2011
May 27, 2011
bridges
It's Rachel Carson's birthday today (via). She wrote Silent Spring, the book that launched the environmental movement. I've never read her, but I often walk across her bridge.
Downtown Pittsburgh is linked to the North Shore and the South Side by a butt-load of bridges. I work on the northern shore of the Allegheny River, which has three identical bridges over it. The 6th Street Bridge crosses from Downtown to the baseball park so it's called the Roberto Clemente Bridge. The 7th Street Bridge crosses over to the Warhol Museum and is called the Andy Warhol Bridge. And the 9th Street Bridge, the Rachel Carson Bridge, crosses over to... Well, the Alcoa Building, I guess. Or maybe the hobo village under the Parkway underpass.
| |
|
May 14, 2011
gone fishin
The forecast called for rain and thunderstorms all day, so I went to a picnic with coworkers. Fishing was the featured activity, but I didn't bother to buy a license or develop an interest in fishing so I sat with the other landlubbers and made friends with a dog. It didn't rain.
| |
|
May 13, 2011
When I played Little League I was terrible. When I played basketball in junior high I was terrible. Then I played in a softball league one summer while I worked at CMU. I was terrible.
The other day I was saying this to KR and she said no, I was good at softball. How could that even be?
Maybe like this: A few years ago KR and I were walking in Squirrel Hill and I stepped into Beacon against the light to see if there were any cars coming so we could cross. She grabbed my arm and I jerked away violently. It frightened her and me too. It had been a purely reactionary, involuntary, unfiltered action in response to KR's protective move. I think of that moment every time I cross that street.
And KR has no recollection of it.
Memory funny.
| |
|
December 31, 2008
stuff learned at the end of 2008
I learned two things today, the last day of god-forsaken 2008:
- We had dinner at a special Legume event. Dinner began with oysters and champagne. The oysters were served six on a plate, two each of three varieties. One each for KR and me, though I was prepared to give mine to KR since I'm not an oyster guy. The first was, um... I'm gonna call it mildly unpleasant. The second was good. And the third, oh lordy, the third was delicious. Today I learned that I like kumamoto oysters.
- Dead Man arrived in the mail from Netflix today, so KR and I watched it tonight. We'd both seen it before. My first time was in a little basement theater in Northampton MA. (I remember chairs arranged in rows. I don't remember if there was a real screen or if the movie was projected on the wall.) Darn good movie. Afterward, KR went to bed. I stayed up a bit longer before coming upstairs to poke around online and unwind until midnight. Before turning the tv off I flipped around the channels and paused at the Fox station. Robbie Knievel, the talking head said, son of childhood hero Evel Knievel, was born two days before me.
| |
|
