Pittsburgh Rocks!

When you live in a city long enough, I think you start to forget about some of what's great about it. And if you were born in the city that you live in? You don't even know what's great about it (until you move away). I have to confess that I had forgotten how incredibly beautiful Pittsburgh is, but I ran into a website that reminded me. The photos on this site are incredible. Seriously, spend a few minutes over there.

Or maybe I'm just easily impressed since this is what Minot, ND (for you newbies, that's where I grew up) looks like:

And oh! how I wish that photo was in some way misleading. But it's not. No wonder Nelson sounded like a good idea.


The Terrible Idea

Hi Alexis,

I'm really, really sorry. I know it was a bad idea. I tried to say something. Lots of people in Pittsburgh did. We all know that one of the greatest things about the Steelers is that they don't need cheerleaders and they don't need some stupid mascot. But, well, Art Rooney is getting up there in the years. Some of the people around him didn't think he'd be able to adjust to not having Cowher on the sidelines. So they concocted this look-alike to stand around and look scary. I know, I know, they should have just had a had a Fathead made in Cowher's likeness. I know.

I would like to be able to explain to you why they named him Steely McBeam, but really, I can't. Look on the bright side. Now we can say fun things like "We ought to McBeam the genius that thought of that" every time we see him. It'll be fun! And just wait, I'm sure a Browns fan will take pity on us and lend us a baseball bat or steamroller. It will be a moment of solidarity as Browns fans and Steelers fans unite to beat the crap out of the thing. Yes, I know that the guy wearing the costume probably isn't the one that came up with the idea in the first place. But he does deserve some pain for willingly wearing the thing. You see, I'm pretty sure the Steelers aren't paying him $1 million to wear it. If he's wearing it for anything less than that, then he is as big a fool as the genius who thought of it in the first place.

Alexis, you're still young. With any luck, Steely McBeam will be dead long before you're old enough to have his image seared into your brain. We will all just pretend he's not part of Steelers history. Steely who? See, it will work out just fine.



My Hero's Name is Motrin

Dinner out with the one-year old who is currently mastering the art of channeling her inner Linda Blair was fantastic. Oh, and how! First, on the way to my favorite pizza place of all time, I made the critical error of looking at Alexis. Oh. my. god. I. will. never. do. it. again. Unless Alexis wants me to. In which case I don't know what I'll do because she might go all le freak on me again. So I tried reattaching my head as we pulled into the parking lot and OH NO THEY HAVE THE WINDOWS OPEN. Yeah, last time I checked, it was like 95 degrees and like, it was so humid you could swim through the air and like, Yay! the air conditioning is broken. Because Pepporoni's is that good (and there isn't anything else we like near by, unless McDonald's suddenly counts, which it doesn't), we went in. The pizza was fabulous, the salad was yummy, the service was spot on, the one-year old was bipolar. Up. Down. Mommy. Daddy. Hungry. Not Hungry. Thirsty. Not Thirsty. Up. Down. You get the picture.

Sweet Thang kept up this act all night and all through the morning. I responded by pumping some Motrin down her throat and sending her to daycare. They get paid to deal with teething lunatics. I get paid to deal with grown-up lunatics. Sounds about right. And I should be getting the "Alexis isn't feeling like herself" call right around 1:00 when the Motrin wears off and our child is repossessed by the Molar Teeth Ripping Through Gums Demon.

Obviously, Burgh Baby has lost her head.