The Pittsburgh Left

No, it's not a political constituency. It's a way to drive. Found on the excellent user-maintained travel site wikitravel.org:

Visitors may want to be careful of the "Pittsburgh Left." At red light intersections, a driver wishing to turn left will do so as soon as the light turns green, regardless of whether another vehicle would normally continue straight through the intersection. While not done much by the younger generation, the Pittsburgh Left still has its adherents.

I think Mr. Incredible could add a few more irritating Pittsburgh driving habits and traffic patterns to this entry, but here's another one that is oh-so-true:

Another traffic irregularity that often confuses outside drivers is the "left only" lane. You can be driving straight down the road and suddenly the lane you are in becomes a "Left Turn Only" lane, although you did not change lanes. This is common in other cities in the right lane but not the left. However, there is no rule for when this will happen in Pittsburgh, and it can happen in right lanes also, so drivers tend to drift back and forth from left lane to right without signaling. If you are new to the city keep an eye on the signs leading up to each intersection.

I know things like this really irk many people -- and I'll admit they get me sometimes, too -- but for the most part I guess I accept them as some of the last vestiges of local flavor. It's getting so you can go just about anywhere and find a KFC but there's no local café in sight. And everybody in the country wears pretty much the same clothes and buys their housewares at Target.

So, as annoying as it is, I salute the Pittsburgh Left for its uncompromising disregard for homogeneity.

Truffle time

Thanks to a very thoughtful co-worker of mine who has relatives (and miles of bike trails) that lure him to Asheville, N.C. on a regular basis, Mr. Wonderful and I now have "truffle time" every school night. When I found out about my co-worker's Asheville connections, I immediately told him he had to check out The Chocolate Fetish, as we think theirs is the best chocolate we've ever had.

So when he came back from Thanksgiving in North Carolina, he brought us a sampler of some of their best truffles. We love them so much that we're savoring them--we eat one a day, cut in half so we can share it, for each day of classes that Mr. Wonderful has left in the fall semester. It's a great way to celebrate and count down the days!

This is a shot of us, giddy with the rich, dark, spice of "Ancient Pleasures," one of the most exotic truffle selections -- it's dusted with cayenne.

Catskills photo album

Catskills album>

Le voyage de camping

Don't you just love it that "camping" is the same in almost every language? Apparently, it's the one thing that's common to us all . . . or maybe it's just a highly assimilate-able word.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago, we met some friends in Tennessee for a wonderful camping trip, with great times had by all. Unfortunately for you, we were having so much fun that we left the camera out of the equation most of the time, which means that we have no photos of our dear friends, or of the catastrophic but delicious "spicy sausage and scout bread on a stick" recipe we tried. Let's just say that, if you really want to cook a whole bunch of things together on a stick, go ahead. But wrap it with foil first to save yourself the trouble of it falling apart before you even get it on the stick. Nor do we have a photographic record of the glorious campfires, and of course there's no way to capture just how crisp and comfortable the weather was.

The best moments are never caught on film. Why would they be? When you're really, really happy, why would you want a camera between you and your loved ones?

But here are a couple of shots.

In their element

We went hiking. Not as much as we would have liked--and not nearly enough for our rock-climbing puppy--but it was good to be out there, tackling mountains. We were in Roan Mountain State Park--quite posh by our state park standards, by the way--which boasts an interesting assortment of "balds"; that is, mountains that have clearings or gaps on top. There are lots of theories as to why they are the way they are, of course, but none as interesting as those concerning dinosaurs and aliens.

The state park isn't just a natural haven; it's preserving some interesting remnants of human civilization, as well. Every time we visit the Smokies and the areas nearby, I'm fascinated with how people lived and traveled there. Getting around isn't easy now, and it was hundreds of times more difficult 100 years ago. This is a photo of a mill inside the state park, as well as some flowers planted outside an unbelievably isolated (but beautiful) farmhouse that's no longer inhabited, but still standing today.

Posted outside the campground bathrooms and ranger stations. Except to give it context, there is little I can add to this image; it is truly a work of genius.

Ahhhhhhhh.

Larger than life: the BIC in Miami

Okay, I know I've been a really lazy blogger lately . . . but if anyone's interested in seeing a General Conference highlights video, here you go! I know some of you were keeping up with the blog, but if you're looking for something more like real life, check this out.

GC 2006 blog

I'm writing (at least a little bit) but I haven't had time to post here yet. Check out the blog that Sarah, Katie, and I are keeping of General Conference 2006.

En route to Miami

So sorry I haven't been around the blogosphere this week . . . I've actually had too many better things to do, I guess. :)

Right now I'm sitting in the Orlando airport, waiting for my connecting flight to Miami. It's been a long day; I left our house before five this morning.

On my plane rides I've been reading Mere Christianity, one of those books that (embarrassingly) I've picked up many times and have never finished. What makes it particularly annoying to me is that I like to quote the book, and I have actually recommended it to several people. But what do those recommendations really mean when you follow them with "but I've only read the first few chapters"? Besides, how can you think of yourself as an intellectual Christian when you haven't read it?

It's a wonderful book--jam-packed with wisdom and insight. And maybe that's why I haven't read the whole thing yet: it needs to be enjoyed and digested in small portions. I wonder if Lewis' moral approach to Christianity would be understood and received well if it were being broadcast and published for the first time in 2006. I doubt it. We no longer talk about universal truths and common morality. And although I'd rather be living in a postmodern world than any of its precursors, this concept of universal truth--that there are just certain things that we all have in common, that we all suspect or know to be true--is one of those things that's gotten lost in the transition.

The laptop battery is on its way out . . . so I should finish. Maybe I'll find time to write in Miami; maybe not.

¡Hasta luego!

Pittsburgh highlights

Together at Fallingwater

A fern haven

Fallingwater

Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece. It's damp, inside and out. But despite the crowds and humidity, you can't help feeling like you're the only human who's ever been privileged to dwell--if only for an hour or so--in the mysterious and otherworldly realm of a river.

Blue Nile cuisine

Mr. Incredible and I are crazy about food. And before you jump to the conclusion that we must be 400-pound couch potatoes who don't even stop chewing long enough to breathe, let me explain.

We both grew up eating healthy but somewhat boring food. Yes, there were the occasional interesting meals out with the family. But in general, eating was not for enjoyment. Rather, it was simply a way to fuel up. And the cheaper and faster, the better.

But over the past few years, we've made it our mission to taste and cook as many dishes as possible, and cooking has become our favorite pastime. We pump up the music, turn on the kitchen fan (hey, I said we were good cooks, not cooks who never burn anything), and we embark on a culinary journey that sends us bumping into each other in our small kitchen, taste-testing like mad, and breathing in the spicy aromas of the food we're about to eat.

But when we can't cook, and anytime we're traveling, we're on a mission to taste something we've never had before. So when we were in Pittsburgh last weekend, we tried Ethiopian food for the first time at this great little restaurant in East Liberty.

And wow! Between the injera (thin pancake-like fermented flatbread made from a unique African grain called teff) and the spicy dishes we dipped it in, we were in food heaven. As soon as I can find a local store that stocks ingredients like teff flour, we'll be cooking Ethiopian, you can bet on that. I found a great site that has basic information and recipes on Ethiopian food, as well as an extensive listing of Ethiopian restaurants. I'm eating it up.

And I know you're still waiting for photos of Pittsburgh--sorry about that; they are coming! Perhaps tomorrow . . . if not, then I should at least get them up on Saturday.

Post-vacation blues

It was, as the British would say, "a lovely week-end."

We made a pilgrimage to the hall of football heroes, and the city of my birth--a city with somewhat of an identity crisis--but somehow, that makes me like it more.

Photos will be up soon--we took more than 150 of them in only 3.5 days--but for now, I need to focus on my work and get the next issue of Seek planned, which should be challenging considering that I feel like crying about everything right now. . . .

Hormones. Ugh. Yeah. What are they good for? Absolutely nothin'.

Relevant tourism

Just in case you wanted solid (but belated) proof that I did, in fact, visit Relevant's headquarters . . . here you go.

It was a wacky, modern office -- the kind that is often called "collaborative" because it sounds better than "we didn't like the look of cubicles, didn't have the money for them either, and so we just put everybody in the same big room." Anyway, here I am (in the light pink sweater) lounging with my EPA friends, Allison, Jenny, and Martha.























Yes, those are Butterfingers on the coffee table. Enough for two dozen people. Could these be the source of all the mad creativity at Relevant? Mmmmmmm, Butterfingers.

And of course, there's the post-postmodern art on the wall. The scariest thing I've seen in ages -- those golden arches can haunt you in your sleep.

Home sweet Asheville

PHOTOS BY MR. (AND MRS.) INCREDIBLE

If you're not used to it yet, get ready: I'm addicted to the mountain city of Asheville, N.C.

I don't have much time to write this morning--I slept in 'cause I seem to have come down with a cold--but I wanted to share some of these photos from our trip to the Biltmore last year.

Concourse B

Is there a lonelier place in the world than an airport? Considering that I typically view writing as the absolute last resort when there’s no one to talk to, I must be desperately lonely, sitting here at The Great American Bagel & Bakery, an amazingly overpriced carbohydrate café in Concourse B of the Charlotte International Airport.

There’s something tragic about thousands of people, weighed down by a week’s worth of personal belongings, all trapped together in a place where they don’t want to be.

Except for the frizzy-haired children, whirling dervishly on the vast expanse of gray carpet, no one really looks happy. But shouldn’t they be? I just watched a hundred or so people board a plane for Cancún, and judging by the gaudy floral prints, huaraches, and sundresses, they were headed to Mexico not for business, but for pleasure.

I wanted to shake the young women, obviously honeymooners and romantic getaway-ers, who turned away from their husbands to read Us, Allure, and People. And, by the way, they even looked bored with their magazines. Shouldn’t they be filled with anticipation, whispering to themselves about their upcoming scuba adventures? Or poring together over travel guides? Or marveling at the miracle of flight as planes take off every few minutes?

But then I realized that they viewed this time as a waiting period, not to be enjoyed, but to be endured. And, well, let’s just say that I’ve been there before, so I’m probably not in a position to be shaking anyone for their foolishness. But it sure was a good reminder not to cut myself off from joy and anticipation and fun during those waiting periods. Because after all, waiting can be just as much a part of the journey as the flight itself—it just depends what you do with it. I sure don’t want to be reading People. I’d rather be pressed up against the huge windows, watching the planes take off.

Note: this was written yesterday; just didn't get a chance to post 'til today.

Steel City . . . here I come

After months and months of having the "we really need to get away sometime soon" discussion, Mr. Incredible* and I have finally settled on a date and location: Pittsburgh, Pa. Not only is it the city of my birth (travelers who wish to visit my birthplace museum should go to the city's website for more details), Pittsburgh is, in my mind, the quintessential blue-collar city. If you've ever watched a documentary on Pittsburgh, you might notice that the locals have a very curious take on the English language, and as far as I can tell, it's the only city north of the Mason-Dixon line populated by hicks. And before you assume that I mean that in a derogatory way, check out some of my music preferences in my profile. Though "ain't" may not be in my vocabulary, I am a fairly well-adjusted product of small-town America.

So why would I even want to go the city at all? Well, despite its relaxed pace, rural life offers very few cultural events or interesting restaurants. We don't get out much here in the country. But what I LOVE about the city is that you're not dependent on cars to get you where you need to go. Between the feet you were born with and public transportation, the entire business of moving from one place to another is more relaxed (for uptight drivers like me, at least).

But even more important, as a country dweller, the city can be an in-your-face reminder that you're part of the human race -- a reminder that we rural folk need from time to time. Don't get me wrong; wide open spaces are what I'm all about most of the time (and last time I checked, crime rates seem to be most closely linked to increased numbers of people per square mile -- we all need our space)! But living in the country and small towns, we don't even need to talk to our neighbors most of the time. When we go places, we don't brush up against other people crowded sidewalks; the closest we come to human contact is tailgating on the way to work.

I don't mean to say that in the city, no one gets lonely; I know as well as anyone that groups of people can be the loneliest places on earth. But I can't help being attracted -- if only for a weekend -- to the city.

I could go on about how I love the gritty feel of Pittsburgh, and how the rivers seem to keep the city alive, but I'm really supposed to be working. On an unashamedly advertising-edly note, we booked our urban 3-star hotel using priceline.com, and let's just say we realized maybe getting away wasn't so unaffordable after all. So thanks, Captain Kirk, for letting me know in your washed-up-manic-actor way, that priceline is the way to [boldly] go.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent.