Month: September 2019

Well, I made it to New York. Penn Station is on 31st, and was headed to 81st, so you do the math. Google said it would take me 56 minutes on foot. I went towards an exit promising taxis waiting outside, but was soon met with the realization that I don’t know how to hail a taxi. Because I’m a dork. So, I just started walking, lugging my…(I just realized why they call it luggage) bags the wrong way because Google Maps was confusing me. Eventually, I got going in the right direction but pretty soon my feet were hurting and my arms were hurting from pulling my suitcases. That’s when I started getting smart and picturing where I needed to be positioned in order to get a taxi that could expediently take me where I needed to go. And just like that, a taxi let off a passenger and I did that little ducking/waving/smiling thing that dorks do when they’re not sure they’re doing it right, and he pulled over to pick me up. Of course, I didn’t give didn’t give him the address, only the nearest intersection ( I’ve seen “Taken.”) Also, I didn’t fall for any “Wanna share a cab” offers (“Taken!!”) The cab driver was the best. We talked about our children. He spoke French and said Connecticut very beautifully. He let me off after a short drive ($21!). I walked to the apartment, and all the keys worked and life was good. I went out to go to Zabars and get some provisions, but unfortunately they were closed. Luckily I found a little Greek grocer, and bought a nice piece of cooked chicken in a delicious sauce, some Greek salad and hummus, and yogurt for breakfast. I was so exhausted, I went to bed early.

My cab

My apartment

Deep in rural Somerset County is the crash site for flight 93, a plane terrorists intended to fly into the Capitol Building on September 11, 2001. Autumn here is quiet and you really feel the wild things of the area heaving sighs and going within to prepare for winter resting. So it is unthinkable that something so violent occurred here. I think the designers must have felt this, too because they created a memorial that both encompasses the land on which this terrible tragedy occurred and honors the memories of brave people who learned from loved ones what was happening in NYC and chose to fight their hijackers.

The Tower of Voices is a giant windchime still under construction, but will be the first thing visitors see when they arrive at the Flight 93 Memorial.

There is a walkway encircling the entire memorial. 40 orchards with 40 trees line half. The crash occurred near a working coal mine. FBI soon closed down the mine and used their buildings for investigative work. The memorial grounds are slowly healing from coal mining activity.

The Memorial Sights.

I loved the architecture.

I ate dessert before dinner.

I thought it had so much character.

On a steep hill overlooking the Ohio River is a 142 year old incline running steeply up a track and conveyed by a cable that we are hoping is not as old as the car in which we rode. You get THE most extraordinary views of Pittsburgh if you just pay (cash) for a one way ticket from a grumpy guy behind a counter and hop on when the next car arrives. It was pretty great.http://www.duquesneincline.org/index8656.html?page=about-the-incline

I never gave Andy Warhol much thought. I can recognize his art like the next guy, but I really did not fully understand the complexity of his body of work. He died suddenly at 58 during a routine surgery, so we will never know what else he may have accomplished. He was a painter who developed his own new techniques, he created a space for other artists to create, he made movies, took extraordinary photos, and published a magaine, then he was a painter again. He was the son of immigrants and a native of Pittsburgh and one of four Carnagie museums in this fine city is dedicated to his art: 7 stories full of it. There is even a lower level create space where you can do art like Andy. I visited this museum today and came away with a new appreciation for Andy Warhol.

Jen and I went to the Clymer Days Festival tonight, which was once a reunion of military townspeople but is now a family event celebrated with funnel cakes, CBD booths and fireworks. We arrived hungry and soon found a church booth selling local favorite foods: pieroghi (potato filled dumplings) and haluski (cabbage and noodles.) Quite delicious, honestly. We saw one smokin’ hot dad, one guy who was probably Santa Claus checking out who’s naughty and nice at the carnival and a very tall man with a very tiny dog. Jen and I got hooked on one carnival game, the ping pong ball throw. Two bucks got you a bowl of colored ping pong balls and the goal was to get them into jars of colored water without bouncing off the edges. We were pretty much champs at this game and won some sweet swag as proof. There was a decent live band who introduced themselves as the hardest working band…in the area, with the best bass player…in the area. At the end of the night, we watched the fireworks display, only they didn’t turn off the spotlights on the softball field so we had those in our eyes as we looked up at the fireworks. The best part was this three year old boy who was rating each of the fireworks, “boring” “boring” “yaaaa that’s the one” “not boring, bravo!” That killed us. Sadly, the fudge booth was closed when we were ready to buy, but the funnel cake we shared was dee-lish.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This morning, I biked a portion of the Hoodlebug trail, this awesome rails-to-trails line in Indiana County, PA running astride the highway. Trains always take you through the most beautiful places. This reclaimed piece of rail line made me feel like I had discovered hidden beauty.https://www.indianacountyparks.org/trails/hoodlebug_trail-history.aspx

My friend Joe was assertively driving me on a narrow rural Pennsylvania Road toward the little township called Creekside where he grew up. In addition to the endlessly entertaining tour of a town Joe knows like the back of his hand, we were waylaid during our journey by the sights and sounds of an active train crossing. While my companions said, “darn,” annoyed at the delay, I, having been a Leinbach for 26 years, simultaneously shouted “Yay!” And clapped with glee. I know good luck will befall me if a train crosses my path. All I could think was how beautiful Pennsylvania must be by train.