Sunday, March 30, 2008

lamenting the passing of the blockbuster era

i think there comes a point in everyone's life where you stop acknowledging the arrival of new technology. you refuse to become part of this new technology community and simultaneously become ultra-nostalgic for bygone or moribund technologies. i think this usually happens when you're an "adult" which i guess is anywhere between the age of 18 to 45 (so, unspecific.) i guess it's different for everyone. also, it's not necessarily universal at first; you may balk at certain advancements and embrace others.

for example, my mom has no idea how to use a computer. she knows the internet exists and sees how it could benefit her life, but only at the hands of others. last week i mentioned that i wanted "all the pretty horses" on DVD, and she said she had looked for it but didn't see it at the store. she said "well i could go to barnes and noble and have them order it." then i suggested i could have amazon.com deliver it to her house, then she could mail it to me (since, even though it's 2008*, amazon.com does not deliver worldwide.) she reacted as though this made sense but was not an option she would consider. "i'll just see if i can find it."

also, last christmas i bought her an ipod shuffle. i loaded a bunch of her CDs on her computer then filled up the shuffle with songs she wanted. she began using it at work and said she really loved it; so much that for her birthday, dale (her boyfriend) bought her another one because she wanted to have two song-set options. so, she's embracing technology, but not fully enough to realize that she could drag and drop new songs and in about three minutes have a new playlist on her original ipod. although try explaining that to someone who doesn't know the meaning of the words "drag" "drop" or "playlist."

ANYWAY, i like to consider myself "young" and "hip" and "up with the technology of the time," but i realized recently that i am already falling victim to "technology freeze." i am 23 years old and already becoming stodgy. in fact it started 5 years ago when i worked at blockbuster.

blockbuster first opened in 1985 (nerd alert. but we had to learn all of this stuff during orientation). i began working there in late summer 2001; i'd say at that point blockbuster had just hit or was just coming down from it's heyday. to give you a benchmark, this was just about the last time you could rent a movie in your choice of DVD or VHS. (by the way, who the hell else misses VHS tapes? i see no advantage to DVDs. all my DVDs are scratched. VHS tapes were indestructible. and you could always find the exact place in the movie you left off.) now, blockbuster is all but dead. 9 or 10 blockbuster stores closed in pittsburgh about two years ago; the blockbuster i used to work at in hempfield plaza is now a mattress store.

blockbuster is all but dead, and why? netflix. and ondemand. and itunes. no one wants to leave their house to go rent a movie that, for the same price, can be delivered to their living room with the press of a button.

i suppose this is logical; however, i find it depressing. i think there's something lost when you're deprived of "a trip to blockbuster." this used to be a favorite past time of my father, brother and i; almost every weekend we'd get in the car, drive to the same blockbuster where i'd later work, rent two or three of the latest releases on VHS - sometimes he'd even spring for the over-priced, tooth-rotting snacks lining the check-out.

and what's more fun than going with a significant other and spending the better part of an hour arguing about the movie that you'll end up making out through the last half of anyway? this is an especially fun experience on a first date. suddenly a simple consumer transaction can have make-or-break status on the relationship. your cinematic tastes are on display; you're under intense pressure to make an impressive decision. frankly, it renders me helpless. i play the "non-decision maker," which can be equally as damaging. no one wants to date a waffler.

but who wants this situation?

"okay, let's watch a movie. what do you want to watch?"
"well, i just got braveheart in the mail today. and charlie and the chocolate factory has been sitting on top of the tv for three weeks now. so, you pick..."

the point is, going to rent a movie is as much of the experience as actually watching it. and yeah, right now i suppose you still have a choice; if you enjoy that, you can still go down to blockbuster instead of using netflix. but it won't be that way for long. netflix is running blockbuster into the ground. one day you won't have this choice anymore, and that day will be sad.

maybe the people it affects most won't notice; i suppose that i'm not exactly feeling bereaved over the loss of the drive-in movie the way that generations before me are. so maybe my children will not even notice. they won't even ask me if they can rent movies anymore; we'll probably have a robot like in "bicentennial man" that handles all of those kind of problems while i am busy taking a nap. but maybe, when they hit their mid-twenties, movies will be sent via telepathy directly to your brain, and they will wax nostalgic about the days when you had to sit down and actually press buttons on a remote control to watch a movie.






*i like to use the phrase, "come on, it is 200_ (insert current year)" to express my dismay that certain inconveniences still occur, like the inability to have things from american websites delivered to europe without paying exorbitant postage. also, i feel it is far enough in the future that i shouldn't have to:

-wait 3 minutes for a page on internet to load, ever, no matter what kind of internet connection i'm using.
-wrestle with my ipod earphones EVERY TIME i take it out of my purse to use it.
-take the lid off and stick my hand in the back of a toilet to flush it.

Friday, March 28, 2008

killing yourself to live (again)

do you ever get to a point when you're tired of reading? i was at that point yesterday. i was stranded in the middle of "something happened," by joseph heller. it's well-written, interesting - i want to be absorbed in it, but for some reason i just can't get there.

i've found this year that without owning a tv and without having any real hobbies, i have a lot of spare time. i am one of those people that, when left with extra time and very little responsibility, chooses to nap. as perfect as this life sounds (30 or so hour work week and bars everywhere with very cheap beer), i often get bored. my roommates and i have resorted to card and dice games, but you can only spend so much time playing rummy before the thought of trying to find the six to complete a five-six-seven run in spades makes you want to stab your eyes out.

so i sleep a lot, probably more than i should, which when you wake up having wasted an entire afternoon in bed does nothing but induce a feeling of guilt. given all this time i should be developing some skill, or at least (the english major in me contends) reading.

but i read in waves and sometimes i just don't have it in me. there will be weeks when i finish a book every two days, then a month when i laboriously cover about 10 pages a day, if i'm lucky. i'm there now. i find myself zoning out through entire pages of "something happened," and reading them with little regard to what actually happens. reading this book has become less about enjoying it or getting any intellectual satisfaction and more about setting a landspeed record for number of pages per minute.

until today i was saved. i've discovered by observing books left on the desk in the teacher's office that john, a new guy at dino elementary, has excellent taste in literature. and by excellent i mean nearly perfectly aligned with mine. first he had "chuck klosterman IV." then "extremely loud and incredibly close," by jonathan safran foer. i don't know what else john has up his sleeve, but i want to. also, today he was hunched over his laptop, downloading an entire season of "america's next top model." he seems perfect.

he mentioned that he'd read "killing yourself to live," which is probably the best of klosterman's four nonfiction books to date. i've read it twice, both times completed in one or maybe two sittings spanning a few hours. i asked to borrow it, and in my third reading i think i've found the reading spark i needed.

in about an hour today i've already "read" 71 pages; i use the word read hesitantly, because it almost doesn't seem like reading. it's like having a conversation with someone you find endlessly interesting, who you'd listen to talk for hours on end without hoping to get a word in yourself and be pretty okay with it.

if i could write a book, in a perfect world it would sound just like "killing yourself to live," though if i ever attempted to mimic klosterman i would fail, as i am neither as witty or clever as he. that and i have yet to adopt an affinity for adverbs like "soul-crushingly."

if you are unfamiliar, "killing yourself to live" is klosterman's documentation of a roadtrip he took a few years ago working as a staff writer for Spin Magazine. He spent a few weeks and covered over 6500 miles visiting places in america where famous musicians had died. though this propels the plot and gives us a reason for following him on this epic trip, it's not really the most interesting part of the book.

klosterman gets away with, if not succeeds at making interesting, what every writer secretly wants to do - talk about themselves to a captive audience. i probably know more about chuck klosterman than some of the people i actually know in real life that i count among my friends. and though it seems like that would be maybe the most boring book ever, it's not.

so i'll probably tear through it and you should, too. and if you ever get the chance to see mr. klosterman read at a major book retailer in your hometown, don't forget to bring your copy of his book to autograph.

(what were we thinking?)

Monday, March 24, 2008

people you (want to) know go to chateau

the great thing about the czech republic is that it's completely acceptable to go to the bar on major holidays. in fact i think it's encouraged.

after a few minutes of confusion caused by the changing of the clocks (apparently it's next week), anna and i got back an hour we thought we'd lost. we decided to take advantage and see what our friends were up to.

turns out we don't have many friends, or they were just not up to anything. until marie and amanda agreed to meet us at chateau. almost simultaneously, anna and lori's italian friend stephano agreed to meet us there as well.

so on a blustery (american) easter evening (the czech's traditionally observe a non-religious holiday on the monday after easter), we set out with the goal to maybe get tipsy but definitely end up at mcdonald's when the night was through, regardless of inebriation levels.

chateau is one of those places that you either love or hate. it's full name is "chateau l'enfer rouge" and, as the italians later explained, the upstairs is considered the "chateau" and downstairs considred "l'enfer rouge" or "the red hell." which is about right. it's always crowded with expats. upstairs it's your typical college-type bar. order drinks at the bar, try to find a table but usually end up standing, get hit on by random drunk dudes.

our first encounter, minutes after we got our beers, was with mitch. it went like this:

"hey, do you speak english?"
"yeah."
"cool! are you american?"
"yes."
"awesome! it's great to see some friendly american faces."
"yeah. how long have you been in prague?"
"oh, two days."

apparently mitch just couldn't stand being away from his countrymen. we talked to him for a few minutes before he was distracted by a phone call and never returned (guess we're pretty charming). we learned that he and his friends chose prague for spring break because "it's cheap - not on the euro."

next was the one-two punch of a guy from nigeria whose name i didn't catch and gary from kent, england. i got stuck with gary, who spent the whole conversation using his witty, biting sarcasm to make feel inadequate. two tidbits:

"where are you from?"
"england." (said like it's something that should be obvious.)
"yeah but where at?"
"kent. do you know where that is?"
"no, not exactly."
rolls his eyes.

like my brain has a world atlas built in? imagine if i asked him if he knew where scranton was. goodluck with that one, dude.

gary is a med student, five years in, so like most longtime residents of prague, he's bitter about almost anything. he "hates chateau" and "got dragged out." but then he named the bars he preferred - m1, bombay, harley's -- which are all just like chateau, as in they're crowded and full of expats.

"do you like tretter's?" (note: it's a swanky cocktail bar.)
"no, a little too fancy for me."
"oh, so you're one of those down to earth girls?"
what do you say to that? "uh, i guess..."
"i know. this whole red hooded sweatshirt thing is a facade."

i explained that yeah, i'm really high maintenance, i just dress in a sweatshirt and ripped jeans to go to the bar to throw everyone for a loop. i then explained that we were going to find our friends.

"so i'll see you in ten minutes, right?"

which is true. you really can't avoid anyone in chateau. on any given night, everyone you don't really want to run into in prague is at chateau. we ran into one of my coworker's russian friends, lori and anna's ex-roommate john (who is probably not too happy with the way things ended), and "tefl jen," a former teacher trainer at TEFL worldwide who's scathing lesson observation assessments left a bad taste in our mouths.

all in all though, chateau is not as bad as i used to think. you actually end up talking to people (even though they might be creepy dudes) as opposed to sitting around a table with people you already know, which is a nice change of pace.

on the way home we stopped at mcdonalds. to anna's dismay, you cannot order a swiss king sandwich (which includes bacon AND a slab of fried cheese). as we were enjoying our food, we watched a group of 19 year old brits get kicked out for being too belligerent. considering it's a 24 hour mcdonald's in wenceslas square - probably one of the more difficult places in the world to be ejected from - being tossed out was quite an accomplishment for them.

anyway, happy easter!

Sunday, March 23, 2008

an evening at the movies

isn't it always the way that just as you're feeling pretty good about living in europe, you get thrown a curveball deep from the heart of america.

the preview was in czech but that theme song was impossible to mistake.

new indiana jones movie!

i literally gasped.

i have not anticipated a movie so anxiously since my friends and i stuffed ourselves into a packed theater to see a midnight showing of lord of the rings: return of the king.




(i need to get a hobby.)

Saturday, March 22, 2008

someone got too high in amsterdam

so, i don't make a habit of smoking pot.

every once in a while i'll get into the spirit. last february i purchased my first and only eighth from one of my coworkers. i suppose i'll leave out names in case my partner in crime doesn't want his or her illegal activities published on the interwebs, but my "friend" and i decided to smoke one evening in my apartment.

there's nothing more hilarious than watching two people who've never smoked on their own before figure out how to do it it. i ended up balancing my cell phone on my shoulder while my (three-years) younger brother instructed me, step-by-step, how to roll a joint. so much for being the older, wiser sister.

after crouching on my bed near open window, wondering aloud if i was "doing it right," we got high. and then i layed on my bed ate two or three bags of microwave popcorn while my concomitant sat in the other room, typing furiously at the computer. at least i think so - i couldn't be bothered to find out. i was too busy thinking thoughts like "this popcorn makes different sounds depending on which teeth i chew it with."

and that was the last time i was high. i avoid it, mostly to avoid the embarassment that comes with being the newbie. i always need coached, or need someone else to light the bong while i try to coordinate inhaling with releasing my finger from the little hold, or whatever it is you're supposed to do.

but this weekend, in amsterdam, i figured... when in rome, right?

the six of us collected at a coffeeshop at about 8:30 saturday night. we parked ourselves at a table where two dutch were already seated, and they passed us what appeared to be a community bong. identifying that as an option with questionalbe safety, we purchased a joint.

leading up to this, i desperately wanted to eat some sort of muffin as opposed to smoke. i figured i could get high while avoiding the inevitable embarassment of attempting to smoke. the coffeeshop was out, so i settled for the joint being passed around.

i took a few hits and after 10 minutes or so hadn't felt anything. something seemed amiss. so in my crucial mistake of the night, i spoke up and confessed "i don't think i'm doing this right."

then came the onslaught of coaching. exhale first! hold it in! if you breathe out smoke, it worked! it was nice, i suppose - i didn't feel embarassed. in fact i felt emboldened. so when someone suggested i take an extra hit or two "just to be safe," i did.

the next thing i remember, i was outside. still sitting on my chair, exactly as before, all my friends circled around me in what seemed like the same order they'd been sitting in seconds before. it seemed like someone had rolled up the background of inside like a classroom map and rolled down one with a picture of the outside in its place. a bleach-blond gentleman whom i'd never met was handing me three huge, white tablets.

"eat these, they'll make you feel better."

isn't that what guys say to girls just before they try to date rape them?

at first, no one would really tell me what was going on. just that everything was okay and that i should eat the tablets. sugar tablets, apparently, not giant roofies. so i started sucking on one and it made me feel terrible. i was hot but the blond gentleman insisted that i put a jacket on.

so here's what happened (as i was told): i remember all of a sudden feeling very high. i wanted to get up to use the bathroom but thought pretty confidently that i wouldn't be able to walk the 5 feet between there and my seat. i leaned my head on my hand, which drew the attention of my friends (as i seemed to be lapsing into my usual state when under the influence of any sort of drug - sleepiness.) as i listened to pleas to "make it a happy high," i tried to comply but instead fainted.

apparently i went forward first, putting my forehead on the table, arms dangling at my sides. my friends thought i was joking, and the friend to my right nudged me so as to persuade me to sit up. i did, but not on purpose - and slumped back in my chair, mouth open, eyes closed, white as a sheet. that's when everyone panicked.

my five friends went five directions to seek help, and finally the bartender (the nice bleach blond gentleman with the pills) picked me up, chair and all, and took me outside. i was out for about four minutes.

so my fears of looking like a novice were verified. i got so high that my blood sugar dropped (something that allegedly happens quite often, even to large men with much more body mass than me), and i passed out in a coffee shop in amsterdam, the smoking capital of the world.

enough to make me not want to smoke for quite a while. that, and the terrible four hours i spent coming down from that high, of which about fifteen minutes were pleasant. i was in "funny" high mode, sitting in my chair outside the coffeeshop, wrapped in my coat and someone else's pashmina, from about 9:30 to 9:45. i was fed crackers, trying to muster up enough confidence in the ability of my legs to hold my weight, and for that time it was fun.

i convinced my friends that if the cracker was too small, i shouldn't eat it because i would bite my fingers off. "teeth are sharp," i told them. then i described the scene from batman where the penguin bites off someones nose.

"like mike tyson and evander holyfield," someone added.

"yeah! hey, if mike tyson had a mini-me, its name would be "tyke myson," i said.

so after nearly scaring everyone to death, at least i was able to entertain them nonsensical statements about popular culture. and smart ass remarks.

"hey," i said to the bartender, "do you think if i bit my fingers off, that would raise my blood sugar?"

Friday, March 21, 2008

amsterdam

amsterdam was wonderful. i expected it to be dirty and seedy and altogether uninhabitable, but it was the opposite. it's clean. it's cozy. the people are in good spirits and ride bikes everywhere. and, dutch is way easier than czech.

we were on approximately hour 1.5 of our bike tour when i realized that i could probably live in amsterdam forever. i can't put my finger on why, just like i can't picture why i liked boston so much when i first visited, but it might have had to do with the weather.

it's unfortunate that opinions of places have to do with something so uncontrollable, but if it's pleasant outside (60-70 degrees F) it seems to be perfect weather to fall in love with a place.

since i've been back to prague i've been trying to find a way to move to amsterdam. it's almost impossible to teach english there (because most of the dutch speak better english than i do), but "mike" of mike's bike tours told us that holland and the US have some sort of agreement where they will grant visas as long as you invest a certain amount of money each year into a business (the figure is around $5000).

so i'm thinking, the dangling conversation in amsterdam? sounds perfect. plus i think in the two days i was in amsterdam i learned more dutch than i've learned czech in the 7 months i've been in prague.

so lace up your wooden shoes, let's move to holland.

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

conversation with pete

so pete and i are chatting about ancient drama, nothing worth going into, but it brought up an interesting question. i guess it's almost a trite topic to debate but i've been thinking about it lately. how well do you really know someone?

my argument is that no matter what you think you know about someone, you don't ever really know them - you know what they let you know. despite hours of conversation, deep secrets revealed, the ability to complete sentences, it could be only a slice of the pie that they've carefully chosen to reveal.

i mean, think about it - is there anyone who knows every single about you? your best friend, your boy/girlfriend, your brother or sister, your parents? i doubt it. and if there is, it's because you let them, you chose to tell them everything.

how can you ever be sure what percentage you're getting? what criteria allow you to sleep at night? is it "oh, they are my best friend, they wouldn't hide anything from me." or "we've been dating for a year and a half. he's not that kind of person, she would never lie to me, blah blah blah..."

i think you'd be surprised. and isn't it just when you think you've got someone pegged, they slip up and allow one of the things they've chosen to bury surface?

the opposite argument, from pete: "all secrets stink. and eventually they all rise."

i'm not sure. flip through all the files in your head of the things you know about the people around you. then think about what they know about you. think the files are complete?

do you think you know what you're getting yourself into?

Sunday, March 09, 2008

donald ducking it* and other things not to do on a street of curtainless windows

i now live in an apartment on the second floor of a five-story apartment building whose living room picture windows face the bedroom and living room windows of another five-story apartment building across the street. this is the first time i've lived in such a large buildling and one in which all the windows face out to the street.

and the best part is, no one closes their curtains, so in lieu of television (which we don't have), one can be entertained by the goings-on of the across-the-street neighbors.

it's kind of cool. these people's day-to-day activities range from the relatively normal to the quite strange. normal: the other day an older woman wearing a hot pink shirt leaned out her window in the morning to greet the day. today, a man two-windows up mopped his hardwood floors. strange: from a window on the fifth floor earlier this evening, every few minutes, a few bright camera flashes. we couldn't see any sort of photo shoot set-up - so either someone's taking mystery pictures or attempting to fix a broken strobe light.

but it's a double-edged sword. i reazlied only a few days ago, just after a shower, that if i can see into all my neighbors windows they can also see into mine. someone has probably been getting a free show for a week and a half.

i wonder what the neighbors think of us? if they spend any time gazing into our windows, they probably just see three girls glued to their computers. sometimes its hard to pull yourself away from online scrabble.



*"donald ducking it," to those unfamiliar, is wearing a shirt but no garment on the lower half of the body, like donald duck. the style is almost always completely awkward and therefore not advised.

Saturday, March 08, 2008

i'd follow you down but not that far

in an effort to counteract itune's trenchant attack on my ability to withstand repetition, i've decided to bombard it with new music. by mathematical odds, if i put enough songs that are a.) good and b.) new, itunes will be forced to stop playing the crap it usually plays.

today, as a law-abiding "internetizen" (a portmanteau of internet + citizen! I'M CLEVER.), among other downloads, i fairly exchanged 11.28 American Dollars for the privilege of listening to and burning up to ten times "20th century masters: the millenium collection: gin blossums."

this brings up a few issues. first of all, from what i could surmise on itunes, the gin blossums had one album. but guess how many greatest hits albums they had? no less than two. is it me or does this seem a bit out of proportion?

but anyway, who doesn't love the gin blossums? there are at least six excellent songs out of eleven, that among these:

hey jealousy
follow you down
til i hear it from you
allison road
found out about you
until i fall away

ALL of those songs are amazing. and you have to figure, for a band that only put on one or maybe two albums, to have six hits is some pretty excellent batting.

i love the gin blossums for one reason only, the same reason the two-disc "buzz" compilation album is one of my favorites: nostalgia. the ages of about 10-15 or 16, for whatever reason, were the most impressionable on me as far as music goes. the gin blossums feel like the mid-nineties, and the mid-nineties were when i was "growing up." which means the gin blossums feel like growing up. they will always be perfect.

so i'm going to go rock out and try to rage against the party shuffle. fun game: see if you can spot the place in this entry that is influenced by the language style of the declaration of independence!

PEACE.

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

itunes party shuffle sucks ass

lovely language skills in the title, i know. but who else is fed up with party shuffle?

almost everyone i know that listens to digital music and owns a computer has itunes, and everyone i know that has itunes HATES party shuffle.

i want to like party shuffle. i do. sometimes i can't decide on a particular artist to focus my ears on, and i'd like someone else to do that work for me. or i realize that as a music listener i am very predictable - i listen to probably the same 100 or so songs all the time. honestly, sometimes i'll hear a song play on my computer and actually think "where the hell did THAT come from?" so the party shuffle is a good way of brushing the dust off the songs that are good but most of the time forgotten.

but it's crap, and here's why: it plays the same songs all the time, too. i have almost 3000 songs and i swear i hear the same ones all the time. yes, i know that the best of frank sinatra is a 2-disc set so maybe i am asking for it, but how is it that in the list of 100 upcoming random songs, there are ALWAYS six or seven from old blue eyes? i don't see how it's mathematically possible.

alicia often utilized her party shuffle feature, and i swear that all we ever listened to was the song "we look like giants" by death cab for cutie. look it up and i bet it's in her top played list. it has to be. that, and madonna. everytime you turn around you're hearing that "this used to be my playground..." song.

so what's the problem? i checked my preferences to see if i had any funny settings checked accidentally, like "play more annoying songs constantly," or "i LOVE vertical horizon, play them 1000 times a day please." (okay, i'll admit that if that box actually existed, i'd check it.)

you can select "play higher rated songs more often," but i don't have this checked and i only have one rated song ("livin on the edge," aerosmith. 5 stars. why?). you can also adjust how "random" your random shuffle is - it can be more likely or less likely to play your favorite songs. mine is set right at the middle on "random." so, theoretically, every song should have the opportunity to be played, right?

not quite. apparently, party shuffle isn't random in the sense that each song has equal odds of getting played. the shuffle function on the ipod chooses songs by an alogrithm that uses no replacement - meaning that every song will be played, to the end of the entire library, before any are repeated (like choosing cards from a deck until it's gone.) however, the party shuffle feature works WITH replacement, meaning each time a song is played, when it's finished it is tossed back into the pot, with equal chances of being chosen again as a song that hasn't been played. so the party shuffle is only random so far as the number of upcoming songs you choose to show.

likely story. i think apple is lying. even with replacement, it seems like with songs numbering in the thousands, artist repeats would be sparse.

we're thinking either a.) this "randomness" is a lie. apple is actually, without telling you, trying to figure out which songs you play often and bringing you into a self-perpetuating loop by playing those most-often-played songs more often. sooner or later you'll be sitting motionless at your desk, eyes glazed over and fixed at a crack in the wall, drooling, thinking only "how the HELL did i end up with the backstreet boys on my computer, and will i have to listen to only "i want it that way," for the rest of eternity?

or maybe any even slimier scheme - a conspiracy with certain artists to write code that plays their songs more often.

jocelyn's thoughts:

"i don't mind so much hearing fall out boy all the time, but my party shuffle really doesn't need to be playing the RENT soundtrack all the time. it gets a little embarrassing."

so yeah, i'm not the only one who feels like something is up. if you can shed some light on the party shuffle mystery, please do. until then i'll be listening to "we look like giants," until i forget my name.

Saturday, March 01, 2008

a few words on the death of myron cope

at two points this morning i was describing the intricacies of the pittsburgh patois to my less yinzer prague friends. i think a while back we all discussed the fact that none of us seem to have regional accents, although apparently i say the word "potraviny*" a little funny because on several occasions it has led to these discussions on "pittsburghese." it's difficult, when put on the spot, for me to explain the differences (though when i'm drunk i'm quite fluent in pittsburghese).

i realized i could have just pointed to the apotheosis of the "yinzer," myron cope.

myron cope passed away last wednesday, february 27th. the four known regular readers of this blog run the gamut from those who are quite familiar with myron cope (alicia), those who have felt his influence, if only subconsciously (debbie, lori) to those who would not know a terrible towel if it smacked them in the face (nick).

here is the pittsburgh post-gazette's, in my opinion quite well-written, obituary for mr. cope:
http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/08058/860750-13.stm.

so now we're all on the same page.

myron cope is synonomous with the pittsburgh steelers. he's their voice (a nasaly, scrappy southwestern pennsylvania yowl), he invented the "terrible towel" (which, if you're unfamiliar, is a bright gold tea-towel meant to be waved in a helicopter style, making a circular motion with the wrist, above one's head in order to show appreciation for a good play to rouse the excitement of players and fellow fans. it's nearly impossible to imagine a steelers' game without the sea of gold they create). he coined the term "immaculate reception," for the best-known play in steelers' history. before he retired in 2005, it was common practice for many to turn down the sound on the TV broadcast for the game and turn up cope's show on WDVE**.

if you're a steelers fan, i challenge you to imagine steelers football without myron cope; it can't be done.

his death has got me thinking about a few things. first, his accent, as i've already said. quintessentially pittsburgh in a time when regional accents like ours are becoming more scarce. and he's added quite the roster of terms to our vocabulary, most notably "yoi" and "double yoi." (i mentioned mike lange below; pittsburgh has been blessed with very linguistically influential broadcasters.)

secondly, at the city's memorial service for mr. cope, fans outside the city-county building downtown waved terrible towels and chanted some of his catchphrases. this sounds like the most ideal funeral service ever. even during a moment of silence, the towels were still waving.

third, it got me thinking about the vicissitudes of a sports town. i began watching football when i was about 9, so you can say i've been a fan for the better part of fifteen years. the steelers franchise has quite a penchant for stability; in all my years of watching football, we had the same coach, bill cowher. last year he was gone. now with someone as important to the idea of steelers football as myron cope to be gone, it makes it a little more apparent that we're entering a new "era."

i haven't been watching long enough to remember a different era of steelers football, like those who are old enough to remember the steelers of the 70s. but i'd imagine it's going to be quite strange. i don't know how someone remains a fan of a team for so long without being very sad about their nostalgic feelings for bygone eras of that team. i can't imagine how weird it would be for someone who had listened to his broadcasts to suddenly hear someone else's voice calling out plays.

for the meantime, cope's influence on the steelers and pittsburgh won't change. but someday it will. the things we associate with the steelers will be completely different. i know it might sound stupid, like it's just a sport, but i think anyone who has a hometown team can understand what a huge part of a city's culture its sports teams are. i'm reaching the point where i can start to remember a time when things were different, and that's odd. i suppose at this age that starts to happen with a lot of other things.

anyway. my last point about myron cope is this: what a wonderful time to be in pittsburgh. sad, yes, but one of my favorite things about pittsburgh is the camaraderie. pittsburghers have a way of pulling together in times of happiness and equally in times of sadness. i think that's really important in a hometown and it's absence is something that makes prague feel a bit empty. i'm not sure if i can quite put it into words, but i've never felt more at home than the celebration after the steelers' superbowl win in 2006. i've also never felt more at home than standing on the sidewalk, with a bunch of strangers, watching our new mayor bob o'connor's funeral procession slide down grant street last september.

this was a bit rambling, but the point is: he'll be missed.

"bye now!"






*potraviny in czech means food or groceries, although i think it has taken on the colloquial meaning of "grocer's." basically, there are hundreds of small convenience stores in prague and they usually list on their signs what they provide: cigarettes, alcohol, drinks, fruits, vegetables, etc. i'm no expert but i think groceries, or "potraviny" has become the umbrella term for all these offerings and therefore appears on most if not all convenience store signs. i don't know if czech speakers refer to them this way, but us english speakers with a dearth of czech knowledge use it as a noun to mean "convenience store."

**is this common practice in any other major sports market? because not only is it done for steelers games to hear cope's show, i know many penguins fans who will tune into mike lange's radio broadcast instead of listening to the announcers on TV. no one watches pirates games on TV, so to my knowledge there is no baseball equivalent.