At some point in your life, you’ll hear (if you haven’t already heard) someone make a crack about the stupidity of the average American. “DFA” (Dumb F*** America) is the slur people often drag out to disparage the great unwashed masses who oppose their latest, greatest idea, opinion, poem, finding, theory, reform or theatrical release.
But Americans aren’t dumb. They may be distracted, misinformed or too busy to get all the facts, But on the whole and as a whole, they’re not dumb. And they recognize dumb eventually. Sometimes, they may even tolerate dumb for a short time. But eventually, they have no time for it and will go to extremes to circumvent it, even if that means breaking the law.
Take Pittsburgh’s West End Circle construction, now in it’s third year. (NOTE: Three years to fix a bottleneck is dumb.) After two-plus years of minor messes in the Circle, City engineers and other geniuses have finally succeeded in creating a mess of impressive proportions. Traffic now backs up an insane distance every day. It’s a design fiasco that is so complete, it could not have been better implemented intentionally.
This has been going on for weeks, and people have been patient. They’ve put up with it for a good long time, even though the magnitude of the mess makes no sense. But at some point, tolerating stupidity is no longer an act of patience or civility or civic duty. Patience becomes an act of stupidity in and of itself.
Today, people lost their patience with stupidity.
Steuben Street heading toward the West End Circle is diverted to one side street that hooks on to the now-lone main drag into the Circle. Problem is, coming up from the West End Valley are at least four other roads that also must now divert onto that same road. Traffic to and on the side street off Steuben backs up for well over a mile. You might expect some police officers there directing traffic to mitigate the morning disaster. There aren’t any. Which is dumb.
This morning, after creeping roughly 100 yards in 30 minutes, people started blowing through a gap in ROAD CLOSED signs on Steuben to find a less congested side road connecting further down the main drag. One car after another after another decided that the designated route was too stupid, too ineffective, too obviously flawed to observe for one more second, traffic laws be damned.
What they did was, technically, break the law – a law that mandates a behavior that is maddening, slow, inefficient and agitating. Some might call that irresponsible, selfish or even dangerous. I call it independent and wholly justified. That fierce streak of independence is in our DNA. It’s the trait brought over by the independent people that founded and built this country. It’s a virtue, a strength, a glaring positive.
It’s good to see that that gene, however latent, can still be awakened. Because with the staggering amount of stupid that’s creeping our way from Grant Street, Harrisburg, Washington and Turtle Bay every day, we’re going to need it.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Pittsburgh Paralyzed!
Schools were closed again in Pittsburgh today, one week after the very first snowstorm to hit this city in recorded human history and possibly well before that.
With only four days notice of the impending deluge of snow, the storm caught everyone by complete, utter and total surprise, including the Mayor, who was stuck an hour outside of town at a ski resort where he was celebrating his seventh birthday.
Over 21 inches of snow hit Pittsburgh on Friday and Saturday, February 5th and 6th. The National Weather Service warned the city to expect 8 to 14 inches of snow, setting a new government record for accuracy. By Wednesday, streets in nearly every city neighborhood remained unplowed. The rivers however are snow-free.
The storm and its attendant inconveniences have rallied the population of Pittsburgh. Residents of the city’s diverse neighborhoods have banded together in a show of endurance and community spirit to do what Pittsburgh does best: complain.
They’re complaining primarily about the mayor and city council, all of whom were re-elected recently in spite of widespread and widely publicized incompetence, corruption, economic ignorance, demonstrative dishonesty and an abject lack of sense.
“Who’d have thought that a bunch of total idiots could have screwed something up this bad,” asked one resident whose street is buried beneath eight feet of permafrost. “At least I can console myself with the knowledge that I pay exorbitantly high taxes. Not like those dopes in the suburbs with cleared roads living miles from downtown. Which I can’t get to anyway unless I find an Iditarod sled team in my basement.”
Friday, February 5, 2010
Just An Observation
The Postal Workers Union sent this offer via the United States Postal Service to a guy who doesn't live at this postal address. You'd likely think the Postal Workers Union, or the Post Office, or the postman would have noticed that. Well... you'd be wrong.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Our Sunday Best
Years ago, that ubiquitous phrase meant that you were going to the house of the Lord, and as such, dressed as respectfully as if you were to be in the company of a king.
In some places, that still holds true. At nearly every predominantly African-American church I’ve passed on myriad Sundays, dapper men wear suits and hats and the ladies wear bright, faultless dresses. There’s something at once charming and impressive about that.
On the other hand, about the only time you’ll see white people dressed that well in a Catholic church is when they’re lying in a casket.
For the most part, there’s nothing wrong with dressing a bit casually for church. Personally, I’m about as comfortable in a suit as a cat in a bathtub. But at some point, dressing down crosses the line from “casual” to “what the hell is wrong with you?”
Take Pittsburgh, for example. On any given Sunday, you can look around the church and see grown men and women smartly decked out in their finest Steelers jerseys. Now, that’s fine if the line you’re standing in is for a couple of beers and a footlong. But in a Catholic church, it’s kinda ridiculous, given that Catholics believe they’re standing in line to receive the body, blood, soul and divinity of the Son of the Living God. Do you really think that an appropriate top to wear for this Eucharistic mystery is Ben Roethlisberger’s big ol’ number seven?
“Ah, what’s the big deal?” some ask. “It’s not like the Apostles dressed up for Jesus.” Well, yes, that’s true. But on the other hand, they weren’t wearing a licensed replica throwback Barabbas tunic either.
Seeing Steeler jerseys at Mass makes me wonder what Father Robert J. McCoy would think of today’s church fashion. Father McCoy was our parish priest growing up in the Juniata section of Altoona. He was a no-nonsense man, a veteran of World War II and no fan of the creeping informality that began infesting the church after Vatican II. I’m pretty sure that had you walked into Holy Rosary Church in the 1970s bedecked in your best Lambert jersey, Father McCoy would have put you in a half-nelson and thrown you head-first through a stained glass window. Had you’d been paralyzed in the incident, Father McCoy would have then promptly taken to the podium and made a heartfelt financial appeal to fix the window.
However, in the era of Christ-as-self-esteem coach, I’ve yet to see a priest bat an eye when a jersey-clad parishioner walks up to receive communion. They’d probably tell you they’re just glad the Steelers fan is at Mass.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Snow, Please.
That's Pittsburgh in winter when the snow melts.
This time of year, western Pennsylvania sprouts a bumper crop of ugly. There's no sugarcoating that fact. Without snow, this place ranks right up there in dismal with post-eruption Mount Saint Helens. It's brown and gray and dead and depressing. Ever see a promotional photo of Pittsburgh in winter with no snow? No. You know why? Because it's fugly, that's why.
We had an inch and a half of rain yesterday, and all people are saying is, "Well, at least it wasn't snow." Yeah, that would be awful if this vista of mud and leafless trees and naked scrub brush and brown grass and crooked telephone poles were to be covered up by a blanket of pristine white snow. Thank God it rained and now I can see every discarded milk jug in every decomposing patch of thickets along every dilapidated guard rail.
"Well, you don't have to shovel rain."
This is the frequent refrain from folks who'd rather suffer Seasonal Affective Disorder than push fluffy white snow to the curb. I guess an increased risk of suicide is preferable to an increased risk of heart attack.
Unfortunately, these folks are getting their way right now. This gray, lifeless day could last another three months. They may be happy, but I'm praying for snow. Everything's dead out there. It might as well be buried.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Scott Brown Saves the Democratic Party
Republican Scott Brown won the election for Ted Kennedy's seat in Massachusetts tonight. It was a shocking victory in a state where Democrats outnumber Republicans roughly 3-1. But the big winner tonight is the Democratic party.
That's because Democrats in the house, senate and white house were on a suicide mission to ram through unpopular legislation: the health care takeover, union card check, unfathomable deficits and cap and trade (and tax and regulate and dictate and plunder). These pieces of legislation ran counter to the will of the people who recognize them for what they are — cash and freedom grabs that would pay off democrat special interests to the detriment of the rest of the country. Passing them meant almost certain defeat on election day.
But in winning tonight, Scott Brown has ended the filibuster-proof power of Democrats in D.C. In so doing, he has put up a roadblock to legislation that the vast majority of American voters despise. And in so doing, he has put off the November slaughter of democratic politicians who were poised to fall on the sword for government health care, insane and unnecessary green regulation and free-choice obliterating gifts to big labor. Those democrats who were ready to lose their seats to advance these nation-altering laws are now off the hook: odds are, they'll never come to a vote.
With these issues off the table, Americans' anger will abate over the next few months. They won't remember that their representatives were on the brink of pushing this country into virtually irreversible socialism, only to be rescued by Republican senate voter #41. Republicans won the battle tonight. But come November, tonight's victory will make it exponentially more difficult to win the war.
That's because Democrats in the house, senate and white house were on a suicide mission to ram through unpopular legislation: the health care takeover, union card check, unfathomable deficits and cap and trade (and tax and regulate and dictate and plunder). These pieces of legislation ran counter to the will of the people who recognize them for what they are — cash and freedom grabs that would pay off democrat special interests to the detriment of the rest of the country. Passing them meant almost certain defeat on election day.
But in winning tonight, Scott Brown has ended the filibuster-proof power of Democrats in D.C. In so doing, he has put up a roadblock to legislation that the vast majority of American voters despise. And in so doing, he has put off the November slaughter of democratic politicians who were poised to fall on the sword for government health care, insane and unnecessary green regulation and free-choice obliterating gifts to big labor. Those democrats who were ready to lose their seats to advance these nation-altering laws are now off the hook: odds are, they'll never come to a vote.
With these issues off the table, Americans' anger will abate over the next few months. They won't remember that their representatives were on the brink of pushing this country into virtually irreversible socialism, only to be rescued by Republican senate voter #41. Republicans won the battle tonight. But come November, tonight's victory will make it exponentially more difficult to win the war.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Can I Never Fly USAir Again, Please?
Standing in line at Boston Logan Airport, awaiting the privilege of being frisked in the name of national security, I was privy to the utterances of a well-dressed gent in the first class line who breezed by with the comment, "USAir is the worst airline in the world." Sitting here tonight, some 24 hours after landing and still with a kink in my right lat, I can't muster a counter-argument. USAir is gawdawful.
It boggles the mind that the same industry can produce the extremes of USAir and Southwest. Southwest flights are affordable, the planes full and comfortable, the result profitable even though bags fly free. USAir flights are expensive, the planes full and just barely beneath the Geneva Convention definition of torture, the result consistently on the brink of bankruptcy even though bags fly at $25 a pop.
There's only one possible explanation:
USAir is run by people who have no association with flight whatsoever.
To be honest, I have no idea who runs USAir. They might be nice people. But it's pretty obvious that they've never flown in their lives. Ever. They may not even know what an airplane looks like. If you showed them a picture of one of their planes and asked them what it was, they'd probably tell you it's some kind of fancy turtle.
The concept of why people fly is foreign to them. It seems ridiculous to them that their customers — people who have to travel so far that the only way to make the journey in less than a month is to do so in the sky at nearly the speed of sound — would have any need to bring stuff with them. Hence they punish their customers $25 per-bag and provide overhead storage that can hold approximately 20 carry-ons, even though the plane holds 50 people, each of whom is invited to bring on two items.
I'm also not sure who the person is in charge of configuring the interiors of USAir planes, but I'm pretty sure he came from the Campbell's Soup Company, where his job was to design boxes that reduced product loss due to shipping damage. Clearly, he believes that the key to moving people safely around the country is to pack them in so tightly together that they don't shift during transit. On yesterday's flight from Boston to Pittsburgh, fifty people were stuffed in a plane that any rational individual would estimate to comfortably hold fewer than twelve. But in fairness, none were dented on the journey.
My flying partner yesterday, Dave Popelka, (davepopelka.blogspot.com) said that the plane was, "designed around the premise that the only people who fly USAir are jockeys." I'm six-feet tall, which isn't terribly unusual for people raised on cow-based food that was laced with bovine growth hormones. I had to crouch the length of the plane to avoid shaving my head on the ceiling. This cumbersome waddle ended at America's least comfortable seat. The headrest was situated roughly one foot lower than the sitting height of the average human head. The seat cushion was as hard as marble. The flight attendant (there was only one) told us that it could be used as a flotation device, but that's only because it appeared to have been made out of titanium and shaped like a ship's hull. Around the seat, the window was perfectly positioned for optimum viewing, provided your eyes are in your elbow, and the armrests were barely wide enough to accommodate the limbs of a starving mantis.
Oh, and the cabin was roughly 116 degrees Fahrenheit. Luckily, being winter, we were all wearing heavy clothing.
The world's most accomplished sadist couldn't create a less comfortable flying experience on a dare.
Oddly enough, the flight was overbooked. I'm assuming that's only because Al Qaeda Airlines was full. As an incentive, USAir was generously offering a $200 voucher for anyone willing to give up their seat. The catch was that it was only good for a future USAir flight. For 25 cents and a seat on Southwest, I'd have volunteered in a heartbeat.
It boggles the mind that the same industry can produce the extremes of USAir and Southwest. Southwest flights are affordable, the planes full and comfortable, the result profitable even though bags fly free. USAir flights are expensive, the planes full and just barely beneath the Geneva Convention definition of torture, the result consistently on the brink of bankruptcy even though bags fly at $25 a pop.
There's only one possible explanation:
USAir is run by people who have no association with flight whatsoever.
To be honest, I have no idea who runs USAir. They might be nice people. But it's pretty obvious that they've never flown in their lives. Ever. They may not even know what an airplane looks like. If you showed them a picture of one of their planes and asked them what it was, they'd probably tell you it's some kind of fancy turtle.
The concept of why people fly is foreign to them. It seems ridiculous to them that their customers — people who have to travel so far that the only way to make the journey in less than a month is to do so in the sky at nearly the speed of sound — would have any need to bring stuff with them. Hence they punish their customers $25 per-bag and provide overhead storage that can hold approximately 20 carry-ons, even though the plane holds 50 people, each of whom is invited to bring on two items.
I'm also not sure who the person is in charge of configuring the interiors of USAir planes, but I'm pretty sure he came from the Campbell's Soup Company, where his job was to design boxes that reduced product loss due to shipping damage. Clearly, he believes that the key to moving people safely around the country is to pack them in so tightly together that they don't shift during transit. On yesterday's flight from Boston to Pittsburgh, fifty people were stuffed in a plane that any rational individual would estimate to comfortably hold fewer than twelve. But in fairness, none were dented on the journey.
My flying partner yesterday, Dave Popelka, (davepopelka.blogspot.com) said that the plane was, "designed around the premise that the only people who fly USAir are jockeys." I'm six-feet tall, which isn't terribly unusual for people raised on cow-based food that was laced with bovine growth hormones. I had to crouch the length of the plane to avoid shaving my head on the ceiling. This cumbersome waddle ended at America's least comfortable seat. The headrest was situated roughly one foot lower than the sitting height of the average human head. The seat cushion was as hard as marble. The flight attendant (there was only one) told us that it could be used as a flotation device, but that's only because it appeared to have been made out of titanium and shaped like a ship's hull. Around the seat, the window was perfectly positioned for optimum viewing, provided your eyes are in your elbow, and the armrests were barely wide enough to accommodate the limbs of a starving mantis.
Oh, and the cabin was roughly 116 degrees Fahrenheit. Luckily, being winter, we were all wearing heavy clothing.
The world's most accomplished sadist couldn't create a less comfortable flying experience on a dare.
Oddly enough, the flight was overbooked. I'm assuming that's only because Al Qaeda Airlines was full. As an incentive, USAir was generously offering a $200 voucher for anyone willing to give up their seat. The catch was that it was only good for a future USAir flight. For 25 cents and a seat on Southwest, I'd have volunteered in a heartbeat.
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