Greetings from the Sub-Burgh

I am celebrating my third anniversary of living in my quaint little post-war red brick house in the North Hills just outside of Pittsburgh, PA.  Ironically, I rolled into town from Texas just two days before the Steelers left for Texas to play the Packers in the Super Bowl.  I also drove east in the dead of winter after having lived in the south for all of my driving life.  Looking back on it, I have to wonder what madness took hold of me that I had to move here when I did.  I am quite sure the poor crew of three young movers who had to haul my mountain of stuff in for me in a driving snow storm wondered the same thing in less polite terms.  But it had actually been a long, complicated affair to plan a relocation of this magnitude.  I was nothing if not determined. Yet, really, I had no idea what I was getting myself, and later my family, into:  I had never lived here before.  I had visited many times.  I had loved the Steelers all my life and come to love the Penguins just as deeply.  But knowing and appreciating how Sidney Crosby controls the puck while flying down the ice does not mean you know anything about the city he plays for.  I would find that out.

But, three years on, here I am and here I shall remain, looking out on a scene of snow not unlike the one I saw the day I first pulled into my driveway.  I am one of the newcomers on the block.  There are a few of us, sadly in most cases replacing prior residents who were simply too old and frail to live on their own any longer.  But, they gave it their all, like the two ladies who live in little post war red brick homes next to me (not together, they both have their own home, mind you).  I always get mixed up which is which, but one of them has lived in her home 56 years now, and the other one 55.  Sometimes I marvel at that; they have both lived right where they live now for longer than I have been alive.  And, for the record, I am no spring chicken.  Those ladies are my idols.  I want to be just like them if I ever grow up, fiercely independent and refusing to let their age and aches and pains defeat them.  But that's Pittsburgh for you.  People here, I have found, are endowed with a steel spine, and it seems to be bolted firmly into the ground, rooting them here.  I am considered a bit of a novelty among many of the small circle of people I actually know because I was born in New Mexico, grew up in Montana, moved to Texas (much more on that subject to come), and then chose to move here.  For many people around here, just moving from one of the 91 little neighborhoods to another one is a Pretty Big Deal.  I hired a contractor last year who had never been to my township even though he had been born and raised in the city (if you ask the natives where they are from, by the way, they'll list the name of their particular neighborhood, not the larger city).  I liked him.  A lot.  He did great work, was super cheap, but clean and orderly and friendly.  But he was clearly not comfortable in my Irish Catholic suburban neighborhood.  He never came back.  He liked working where he knew the area and the people better.  It's one of the many things I've had to come to know and accept about this place.  And that's the journey I've been on the last three years...learning this new and unique world, which is so very different from where I've ever lived before.  I thought it might be fun to take you along with me on that ride, whether you are from here or have never had the pleasure of seeing this place I drove blindly to.

Make no mistake about it:  I love this city.  This is my home, both by virtue of my address, and by the space it occupies in my heart.  But, like any relationship, there is a learning curve and some bumps along the way.  Pittsburgh and me, well, we're no different.

What brought me here, you ask?  That's a long story.  I'll enjoy telling you about it.  I hope you enjoy reading it.

In closing, I want to dedicate this inaugural post to the person you'll come to know as My Lovely Philly Friend and her husband who just welcomed their first child, Future Pirates Fan, a few days ago in the middle of this arctic blast, which is much, much worse in Philadelphia.  If not for them, I'd probably still be getting lost on a regular basis.  They shared their own love for this wonderful place and really opened it up for me.  Many of the stories I will tell are stories I couldn't have experienced without their help.  Congratulations, and I can't wait to get my hands on that beautiful baby of yours!