Moving out

On no longer being the Pittsburgh Guy

When I tell people I’m moving from Pittsburgh to Palo Alto at the end of August, they usually say something like “I just can’t picture you as anything other than Mr. Pittsburgh.” The comment bothered me at first but I couldn’t figure out why. Am I not Mr. Pittsburgh? I have a tattoo of my neighborhood on my thigh and I’m known for my threads on Pittsburgh history. I brought this designation on myself. But the reason this compliment doesn’t sit right with me (and I do take it as a compliment) is because I don’t think I’ve done anything all that special in the seven years I’ve lived in the city. I keep wondering: What does it mean to be “The Pittsburgh Guy.” What does it mean to walk away from that?

When I moved back to Pittsburgh from New York in 2016, I lived in the University of Pittburgh’s Tower B dormitory. I had a view of the Cathedral of Learning and the Bellefield boiler plant beyond it from my window, and after sleepless nights I’d watch the winter sun rise and silhouette the plant’s billowing steam against an orange smear of sky.

I began reading about the plant’s history and learned how it formed the beating heart of Oakland’s institutions, supplying heat to the Cathedral, the Carnegie Museum and CMU. I reread Michael Chabon’s Mysteries of Pittsburgh, which mythologizes the plant as “The Cloud Factory”, nestled in “The Lost Neighborhood” of Junction Hollow, invisible except when viewed from above. It reminded me of the hidden part of a model train diorama I used to visit at the Carnegie Science Center. On my way to class, I would listen to Harlem Roulette by The Mountain Goats (“Unknown engines underneath the city, steam pushing up in billows through the grates”) and time my footsteps to the imaginary pulse of that great mechanical heart beneath me. In the evenings my friends and I’d make forays into deep South Oakland, clambering child-like down the ruined Boheme Street steps, and visiting the Shrine of The Blessed Mother perched above the roaring parkway, patiently waiting for the day that she could again welcome weary millworkers back to their homes. After each exploration I’d mark these spots on Google Maps with a gold star, until they filled the screen and became less useful waypoints than points of pride. 

Being the Pittsburgh Guy, or being any city’s Guy, is simply about observing, cataloging, and retelling your region’s history. It’s about looking at and thinking about the place you live in and learning it inside and out in the same way you learn the people closest to you. If you’re reading this, you probably came here from Twitter, and you probably followed me there for one of my threads about Pittsburgh; the Fake Southside Burger King, or the apartment in the old Bloomfield Bridge Tavern. Sharing those stories with all of you has been both a joy and one of the best ways to pass on my love for this city. I hope that you found them amusing, told newcomers to Pittsburgh about them, and that they in turn passed them on to even newer transplants. And if you enlarged some of the details along the way (I heard the BK employees fought a corporate rep who came to shut them down), then we’re all the better for it. 

Any of you can be The Pittsburgh Guy if you want to. All you have to do is look at and listen to the city. Go for walks in your neighborhood, take note of the graffiti tags and stickers on buildings and lampposts, and watch how they change from neighborhood to neighborhood. Walk underneath the Bloomfield Bridge, go home and read about it online, and learn about the young couple that rushed the police barricade before the bridge’s grand opening and were married in a car in the center of the span before they were escorted off.

Everybody Happy.

Think about their relationship to the place they lived in, and imagine yourself in a marriage procession in the middle of a parade marching down Liberty Ave. Learn the history of the place you live and pass it on to others, because doing so is the only true way to make a home and a community, no matter where you are. 

At the end of August, I’ll pack what remains of my belongings and set off for Stanford, where my partner’s beginning their PhD program. I’m scared but I’m also excited to learn the Bay Area’s rich lore, San Francisco's especially. I’m also excited to experience Pittsburgh from the outside for the first time through your eyes. When I get homesick, I know I can check on accounts like @PittsburghTrail, @redpghblog, and @OddPittsburgh. But I also hope that each of you keeps me updated on your own lives in the city. Take a picture whenever Gina at Linea Verde rearranges her flower displays and tweet about funny phrases you see written on walls. You’ll be doing more for Pittsburgh than you could ever imagine.