With headlines like this:

Mayor defends use of police vehicle
Says he is not going to change lifestyle to 'appease the media'
(Why does the mayor need a police car to travel around in anyway?)

Mayor wouldn't speak at forum until DeSantis left room
(WTF? Your opponent has to leave the room while you speak? I'm speechless, too!)

...the world must be wondering what's up with Pittsburgh. I understand the condition because I'm from around here...Pittsburgh's bizarre mayoral patterns. Good mayor, tragedy, then the odd fill-in mayor--Caliguiri with Sophie and now O'Connor followed by Kid Ravenstahl. We have soft hearts. After tragedy we want warm and fuzzy like a stodgy grandmother or a clean-faced boy scout ready to help us across the street to the future. But to the rest of the world, what does it look like? Pittsburgh enjoying a feast of excellent mayorship followed by a burp in the person of the interim mayor, soon to be elected in his own right.

The question is who can lead the city onward to be the world class place Pittsburgh yearns to be. Are the childish pranks of Ravenstahl blown out of proportion? Or is his spirit and youth just what Pittsburgh needs to "move forward?" (Salute to PittGirl! But don't drink!) Or  is the "gravitas" of  an older, ultra-serious Mark DeSantis the way to go? Honestly, to see the two together is such a study in contrast, I don't know what to do with it. Oh, wait! Republicans are like Protestants--some strange life form Burghers can't fathom. If you're not Democrat and Catholic or Jewish, what are you doing in Pittsburgh? 

Luckily for the city, I'm in the burbs now and can't vote for Pittsburgh mayor, but I'll be watching...

Hilarious Carbolic Smoke Ball today!

PIRATES INVESTIGATING HOW "ADULT NOVELTY" WAS LAUNCHED INTO CROWD DURING HOT DOG SHOOT PITTSBURGH - Mr. and Mrs. Bradleys Roadhouse, seated in Section 9, Row F near the visitors dugout at PNC Park during Saturday night's game between the Pirates and Reds, got an unwanted surprise in the fourth inning.  more

I was thinking about the new UPMC smoking ban and I'm so taken with the prospect of patients smoking on the street, I burst into poetry about it:

Secrets Bared

Wind laced with sunshine
Hospital gowns breezily
Flap in smoky air
Denying health easily
Laying secrets bare.

Copyright 2007 JO Janoski

From the PittsburghChannel:

PITTSBURGH -- A new nonsmoking policy is in effect at all University of Pittsburgh Medical Center hospitals and properties.... Patients in hospital gowns can now be seen smoking with employees and visitors on the streets of Oakland near UPMC buildings.

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Okay, now I'm picturing patients with those open-backed gowns hanging around on Fifth Avenue smoking their cigs. Now there's something I could live without seeing...

Reading the Morning File  recently about snatches of conversation heard at the Arts Festival, set my mind stirring up flashes of the past. Ron and I took our Pittsburgh photos to the Artists Market for over 20 consecutive years, and ah, the memories.  

Snippets from my own lips you might have heard:

"Not again!"

Okay, I have to start with this, because rain is a Festival trademark, is it not? And it is relentless, winds and showers coming back, again and again, to pummel the Artists Market with mini-tornadoes, which leads to the next one...

"GRAB IT!"

This as the roof to our display lifts up like a kite, powered by a disagreeable wind tunnel...which leads to the next one...

"WATCH OUT!"

The winds produce flying debris, cups, papers, pottery and paintings zooming through Gateway Center like birds on the run.

"I'm hungry!"

So true! Manning his booth makes your friendly artist unable to go the long distance to McDonald's or the Point for a food fix. So he sits there, watching you chomp into your gyro...I won't say more...Just don't lean too close to the artist with that sandwich in your hand...

 "I'm tired!"

I know, to the casual observer, running a booth in the Artists Market looks like a day in the park, literally. But did you know these fine folks are working from 11:00 or 12:00 in the morning until bed time. In addition to being open for Festival hours, they carry their stock in every morning and out every night, setting up fresh each day. And many of them do 11 days in a row--That's 11-12 hours a day, 11 days in a row, no break.  Which leads to a few more:

"DUH!"

This happens to every artist counting out change...mind freeze, total nothingness. The mind's light bulb goes out, and the poor artist is left mid-count with nowhere to go. Please be patient with him. Fatigue takes a toll.

"I miss television!"

Eleven days and not home for the finer things--no TV, no sit-down hot meals with no one watching, no upholstered furniture. I always felt I was getting a glimpse at what homelessness is like--living outside with cold hard concrete everywhere, no comforts, always hungry, people gawking at me...shudder!

"My tummy hurts!"

One year I let a roast beef sandwich sit in the hot sun while I handled customers. I was exhausted, on the last day, and stuporous from fatigue. I don't know how long it sat. But a word of caution, food poisoning isn't fun.

"Woohoooo!"

 This chant is heard when an artist sells his biggest piece. It's all about this, why the artists come, and why you do, to share the art and enjoy its beauty.   

Copyright 2007 Jo Janoski