Wednesday, May 13, 2009

let's go Pens

I'm in Pittsburgh (my hometown) for Quilt Market (a trade show for the quilting world). I'm staying directly across the street from the arena where I used to go see rock concerts when I was a kid/young adult. There seems to be an important ice hockey competition of some sort, as there is a huge crowd of people in Penguin jerseys shouting loudly at a big screen tv. Hmmmm. Don't know what that's all about.

I spent the afternoon walking the streets of Pittsburgh (instead of prepping for my trade show presentation). I greatly underestimated my sentimentality regarding the 'burgh. I went by the office building where my father worked when I was a kid and remembered how amazed I was that he could talk on the phone, look out the window and type like the wind all at the same time - and with his feet up on the desk. Then I went to Nicholas Coffee, where my mother bought fancy coffee beans in the days before Starbucks. She loved the smell of it and would spend a looooong time in there - too long for me 'cause I hated the smell. That's actually the place that gave me my aversion to coffee - I've never even tasted it, because I can't stand the smell. But my mother would bribe me by letting me get dried fruit (and occasionally chocolate). So I braved the smell and bought some dried pineapples for old time's sake. Then I walked to the Pittsburgh Public Theater, where I worked in 1986 + 1987 (although it's in a different location now) and to the theater where I took filmmaking classes. Anyway, I got all weepy and girly.

It seems something fabulous has just happened in the ice hockey competition/event, as the crowds outside the arena are going quite wild. And there's a lot of horn beeping activity.

more from the Pittsburgh front tomorrow..

Go Pens.


Took said... made me all girly and weepy reading your lovely account of your day.

(I miss my dad.)

I love your writing and sharing, Elin...always an inspiration.

arymayrayneday said...

Hi Elin --
Hey, I grew up in Pittsburgh too, and I know just the building you're talking about. My father typed like the wind there too. I never went to that coffee place you talked about, even though my mother drank a lot of coffee. It probably wasn't around when I was growing up. But I was put off coffee by the odor coming from a building just across the Monongahela River. Since it was before the Fort Pitt tunnel was built you had to go the long way around the mountain and past the offending building to get to the South Hills. I've relented a little on coffee... but I still like tea much better. I got that taste from the fast-as-wind typist.
Hope you had a happy trip! A.R.

Elin said...

Arymay - I think the typing thing is genetic. I come from the long line of speed typists (your father and mine!) and who knows who before that.