Meanwhile, at the Pow Wow… Hiya!

This week, several of us from our senior center had the opportunity to attend the 44th Annual Pow Wow in Dorseyville Pa. (in Indian—I mean Indiana Township).  The day started cloudy but warm, but minutes after arriving the temperature fell 15 degrees and the rain moved in.

Luckily, one of the vendors there (a lovely woman from the Cheyenne tribe) hooked me up with this Indian serape blanket that kept me warm & dry.  It came with a note of authenticity, y’know!

I feel like a chooch that I didn’t take more photos other than the few below.  There were tents galore with Native American jewelry, blankets, bows & arrows, peace pipes, tomahawks, medicine pouches, leather goods… there was this camel leather tabletop teepee (with a fireproof base to burn sage) I must’ve picked up and set down 25 times.  I wish I’d bought it.

Strangely, the only food available at this indigenous shindig was fry bread, corn chili & buffalo burgers.  I was hoping to bring home some eats but other than some venison jerky (uh…no) there was no more to be found. 

I’m just glad we ate early, after the first break in the Indian dancing, the line for food stretched half a mile!

Speaking of dancing, I now have a slow drumbeat and ear-worm caught in my noggin:  HIYA!  Hiya hiya hiya….

Golden Age women—enter the circle and perform your dance!

Golden Age men—it is your turn to join the circle and dance!

Young warriors—gather in the circle, and dance!

Couples newly joined it is your turn to dance!  (I loved this young woman’s dress, her rows of hollow tubes played windsong)

All tribes enter the circle and dance!

And last, the fire keeper dances in the rain

Haunting old places: so this must be what a ghost feels like…

Recently, thanks to the internet, Zillow & a bored but inquisitive mind, I came across something I’ve wondered about but haven’t seen in thirty years.  

My first real apartment in the city that I got on February 1, 1989.  I wasn’t quite the hermit I am now, I was in my twenties, dated a bit and family visited on the weekends.

And then on the first Friday in August 1994, I came home from work to find a Sheriff’s notice on the front door.  The owner of the building, delinquent in his taxes and with a stack of unpaid gas, water, trash & sewage bills, had deserted the property. 

We (myself and 2 other tenants) had 60 days to vacate the premises.  I honestly cried like a big baby, I lived there 5 1/2 years and loved my place.

I eventually moved to a neighborhood closer to downtown, and in the 30 years I’ve been gone, have looked at old photos on occasion and wondered what happened to the place after I was booted to the curb.  And now I know.

The building from the outside, 1989.  It had an insurance office and two apartments above.  (I was on the second floor, in the rear.)

  And how it looks in 2023.  (Pretty much the same, a bit scruffier.)

My living room in 1991, and my friend Rebecca dropping by for a visit.  To the left of the double bookcases was my kitchen.  To the right, my laundry room & bathroom.

And here’s that same room in 2023.  It’s a woman’s place now, and boy does this lady decorate.

Here’s the wall with my couch, in 1990.  That was my first girlfriend in Pittsburgh, Rossi.

Here’s that same wall now, 30 years later.  By the way, do you see that framed photo collage by the current tenant’s front door?

I had a collage by that front door 30 years earlier.  Here’s a pic from 1991, with my sisters Courtney & Donda-Lin.

Here’s my sister Shawn in August 1993, celebrating her 30th birthday.  I baked her that cake, y’know!

That same kitchen, 30 years later.

  Here’s a boring pic of my boring bedroom in 1990…

And here’s Miss Modern Day’s bedroom in 2023.  I am impressed.

 

I don’t have any photos of my bathroom back in the day, but I recognize this layout like I’d been in here yesterday. 

Finally, here’s the laundry room now, and how it was in 1993.  (That’s me, smoking a cigarette out the window.) 

 

Well, not everything changed in 30 years—in the current (first) photo, that’s my same linoleum floor!

 

 

My old apartment (I once regretted leaving) is available… do I want to move back?

Earlier this week, I received this email from Lobos Management, my former landlord.  I couldn’t believe it.

This email address is attached to an apt at 527 Monroe in Bellevue.  The former tenant requested we contact him if 406 became available again. 

It is now available for $839 plus utilities, and has kitchen & bath updates. If you’re interested please respond to this notice at your earliest convenience.

Shortly after I left there in Sept 2016 to move back to my hometown, I wound up regretting the decision and contacted my old landlord and made this request.  That was 6 1/2 years ago! 

It may be just another apt to some (and more military bunker than charming), but you can’t live somewhere for 22 years and not form an attachment.  Even after I returned to the city and found a new place, I was homesick for my old apartment for a long time.

Anyway, while I’m not exactly in love with my current place (no patio and the carpeting is pretty worn), it’s in a well managed building and roomy, with lots of windows.  I’m not ready to move again anytime soon, let alone to a Lobos managed property. 

Without going into a lot of detail, Lobos had a pretty shady reputation.  They took weeks to respond to maintenace calls, and pulled some awful stunts over the years. 

Still, I was really curious so I called and made an appointment to see my old place this past Wednesday.

I was met in front of the building by a young woman named Winona who couldn’t have been nicer.  Walking upstairs to the 4th floor (we had no elevator) felt so routine.  My former apartment still had the dark green welcome mat I bought when I first moved in, all those years ago.

Here’s the view when you walk in.  I have to admit, it felt like I was home again after a long absence—even if it did seem smaller than I remembered.  Those patio doors… the glass was really clouded with age.  I complained about them for years, but nothing was ever done.

 

I thought the new cupboards looked great (new appliances too, I never had a dishwasher) but couldn’t believe they left that old brown wall panel.  My sister was after me for years to paint that!

 

 

The bedroom hasn’t changed at all, but the bathroom has a new medicine cabinet & vanity.

And finally, my old balcony.  I miss that giant pine tree, it was filled with birdsong every spring.

After I was done snooping looking around, I thanked Winona but admitted I probably wouldn’t be moving back.  She asked where I was living now, I said the next neighborhood over, in Avalon. 

Winona said “How much are you paying, if you don’t mind me asking?”  I told her $840, and she said she could beat that.  (Yeah, by one dollar!)

I laughed and said that’s true, but I just got my rent locked in for the next 2 years, plus the heat, water & trash is included in my rent.  I added we also have an elevator, a gym & laundry on every floor.

She still gave me her business card in case I changed my mind.  I won’t, I lived there long enough.  But it was nice getting to see my old place again.  For such a boxy little place, I sure made a lot of good memories there.

                     Moving into my old apt at the Monroe, Sept 1994

 

A bird’s-eye view of my apartment: Does this look like a minimalist to you?

A few months after I moved into my new apartment here in Pittsburgh, my family came up for a visit.  (My sister Shawn, brother-in-law Jim, my niece Sophia.)   Jim said “Hey Doug, I hear the stock market is doing pretty well… are you going to fix this place up?”

What the—I stood there dumbstruck.  I figured my sister put him up to it, as I was pretty sure Jim didn’t give a hoot if my walls were pink & my furniture purple.  Plus Shawn knew I was fond of Jim, maybe she figured coming from him it would carry a little more weight.  

Anyway, 3 rebuttals sprang to mind.  Which one would I choose?

1)  That’s NOT how retirement works, Jim.  It’s not like you win the lottery when the market is up, the trick for long-term investing is to STICK to a budget regardless of the highs—so you can have a stable income when things turn gloomy!

2)  Jim, how rich do you think I am?  It’s only been a few months since I wrote that $3,000 check to my slumlord in Waynesburg to get out of that depressing place!

3) “Fix this place up”?   Jim, look around you—since moving back to the city, the sofa is new, the leather chair is new.  The bookcases in the livingroom & bedroom are new.  The dining table—new.  So are the chairs.  The TV stand is new, the bedroom dresser, the nightstand, the BED is new.  The bedroom lamps—new.  The column fan, the wicker pouf, floor pillow, microwave, wall clocks—all new!

Heck Jim, you put most of it together—I think you’d appreciate the break! 

My sister saw this unique 3 seating glass table on Wayfair, where I later found these Indian zinc chairs—I think they’re from the medieval era 

Anyway, I just stood there and said “Yes Jim, I’ll get it fixed up eventually” while he smiled & nodded. 

(Oh, I later learned Shawn never asked Jim to say that—it was all him.)

I’m sharing this now, because recently my neighbor Ronnie’s mother came up from Georgia for an extended visit, and stopped over to say hello.  (A very nice woman, the last time she was here was before Thanksgiving and we talked politics for a couple hours.)  I invited her in to see my humble abode, and she said “Do you live on a tight budget?  Oh I get it… you’re one of those minimalists.”   

I AM NOT.  I just haven’t figured out what other clutter I want in here or what to hang on my walls yet!

And c’mon Mrs. Ronnie, your son’s place is packed to the gills with PILES & PILES & PILES of stuff.  He’s a hoarder!  So yeah, compared to him my place does look pretty spartan!

Still, her words stung (why?) and I resolved to getting more STUFF in here.  I still don’t have a coffee table, there’s room for another chair, I could get an ottoman for my leather chair and maybe a floor lamp….

But the more I went online to look for stuff, the less I wanted it.  Back in August 2016, when I was first hit with the TMJ (and wound up in an emergency room) and my sister thought it’d be in my best interest to move back home (and I readily agreed),  I said I’d probably need 50-60 moving boxes because of all my things. 

Shawn said “You don’t want to take all that stuff with you!  Now would be a good time to get rid of everything and start fresh!”   At the time it made perfect sense:  I wound up selling, giving away or junking furniture, wall hangings & other odds n’ ends, including a ton of clothes, hundreds of books, stacks of dvds—nearly 30 years of accumulated things. 

And I have to be honest, when all was said and done, I was angry at both my sister & myself for doing it.  Sitting in that dingy little place in my old hometown again, with few reminders of the life I had in Pittsburgh, it was like I’d given the last 30 years of my life away as well. 

But after moving back to the city, and (corny as it sounds) being among all the color & diversity again, heck even the PAT buses whooshing up & down my street brought on feelings of contentment, I realized my life wasn’t in all those dusty things I gave away.  It was just being HERE.

The bookcases in my livingroom & bedroom; those few books on the lower shelves are the only physical ones I have remaining, and I do feel a lot less bogged down with stuff now

So while I DO want to get artwork for the walls (also thinking about one of those oversized wall-tattoos), I think I’m done with the accumulation of stuff.   When my neighbor’s mom was preparing to fly back home to Georgia, she showed me a small crystal angel she’d found on the Southside.

She said “Did Ronnie tell you I collect these?  I have one room with over 200 angels alone!”

Good for you Mrs. Ronnie, and by the way you were right—I am a minimalist.

I’m back in the city, thanks to some very special people… it’s a beautiful thing

 

This past Saturday, with the help of my sister Shawn, brother-in-law Jim and my niece Sophia, I moved back to the city of Pittsburgh.  (Well, about 5-6 miles north if you want to get specific.)  But right now, all I can say is—it’s wonderful to be home again.   And there’s no way I could’ve done it without them, thank you so much guys. 

My sister Shawn also got me this awesome welcome mat for my new front door

So after a busy weekend of unpacking, bright and early Monday morning I headed out of my new apartment building—and walked up the main avenue to my former neighborhood of 22+ years, to drop in on some folks & businesses I haven’t seen since last summer.  I had to laugh when my old friend Tilla at Lincoln Deli exclaimed  “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!”   When I started to reply, she said “YOU MISSED OUR FRUIT PIE SALE LAST WEEK!” 

Anyway, I’m not all moved in just yet so to speak—I still don’t have a couch (it’s on order!) or dining chairs for my new dining table, or anything for the walls—but here’s what I DO have, and for all this I am grateful & happy.

An awesome view out my giant livingroom window—it’s an 8 foot square of new glass that looks down on a tree-lined street in the daytime, and at night I can see the twinkling lights of Mt. Washington in the distance.

Did I mention my building has an elevator?   (And yes, that’s a bouquet of fake flowers in the former ashtray attached to the wall…)  Now this is city living!

My new bedroom, with a cool green metal bedframe I bought at IKEA—assembled by my awesome brother-in-law Jim.  

Here’s my new red dresser, ALSO bought from IKEA, and ALSO assembled by Jim and Sophia.   

I had to get a new tv stand (my old one was a corner unit which wouldn’t work here) and also bought this stylish glass-top dining table (sans the chairs).  My sister Shawn found it for me, all I had to do was plunk down my credit card!

The kitchen is small as they come, but everything is happy, shiny & new; easily the nicest one I’ve ever had, along with the rest of this awesome apartment.

Well, that’s all I have for the moment—I just wanted to get some pics of the new place on here, and again say a big thanks to my family for helping me get back where I belong.   But as glad as I am to be back in the city, I’m very much looking forward to going home again this weekend—and seeing this little handyman for Easter! 

“Lunch Before Tiffany’s” is coming right now to a blog near you

This past Thursday, my sister Shawn & I traveled to Pittsburgh—namely, my old stomping grounds—to find a new apartment for yours truly.  Doug, are you serious?  Didn’t you just move back to your hometown 5-6 months ago?  Didn’t you sign a year’s lease?   Yes, yes & yes--but it’s amazing how quickly things can spin in a new and exciting direction.  Just this past weekend, my sister invited me over for Sunday dinner (chili, baked potatoes & cornbread).  Never one to turn down a free meal and spend some time visiting family, I gratefully accepted their invitation.  Still, I was feeling pretty despondent and having a tough time not showing it.

I’ve been trying to not walk around with a dark cloud over my head, but the truth is, it’s been getting increasingly difficult to hide my feelings.   I wish I hadn’t given up my life in the city.  As soon as my lease is up, I want to move back to Pittsburgh & maybe find a new job too.  Shawn & my brother-in-law Jim know how I feel, and while they care enough to want me to stay, they love me enough to know I have to go back. 

And then it happened:  Monday morning, I’m sitting here on my (borrowed) couch watching MSNBC & sipping coffee when I get a phone call from my former employer, UPMC.  Without going into any details (too many things to be finalized) I received an offer almost too good to be true. 

I’ve now got just a couple months to beat this TMJ once & for all and haul my butt back to Pittsburgh!

I immediately jumped on Craigslist, and after spending 3 days making phone calls, scheduling appointments with rental managers and filling out credit applications, we made the trek to the city to look at apartments.  Shawn asked if we could see all the ones on my list after I signed a lease (from what we saw online, we were sure the first one was going to be a slam-dunk). 

Sadly, it wasn’t; a dingy pair of tiny rooms behind a black metal door at the top of several flights of rickety steps, it’s windows pressed tight against a rusted, peeling house of horrors.  Nothing like the photos in the ad.  From there, things went from bad to worse—I mean DECREPIT—and we were soon down to the last apartment on my list, one in a long cluster of units behind Kuhn’s Market. 

With an hour to kill before the showing, we had lunch at the pizza parlor up the street from my former digs, while I lamented that I never should’ve given up my old place, even if it was in a poorly managed building.  (Well, at least the steak hoagies we had for lunch were excellent!) 

We were about to find out just how bad things can get.  The final one on my list—3 vacancies in a crumbling complex—came with rotted carpeting, wrecked bathrooms and black mold running down the walls.  While the rental agent nonchalantly took pictures of the despair with his iphone, Shawn & I got in my car to head home.

And then it happened—we’re driving down the main drag of my former neighborhood, into the neighboring area called Avalon, when Shawn said she wished we could’ve seen some of the apartments she saw online at the Tiffany, and wondered where it was located.  I replied “Well, I think it’s mostly elderly folk, and probably run down inside… but who wants to live on the main drag with all this traffic?  Anyway… it’s right over there.” 

Shawn yelled “WHAT!” and hit the brakes.

The Tiffany, on California Avenue

She said “Can’t we see if there’s any vacancies??”  I said of course not, you have to schedule appointments at least a day in advance.  She said “There’s a small sign out front with the property management’s phone number, can’t we just call and ask?” 

I shrugged my shoulders and said okay, not really expecting anyone would answer, it was almost 5:00pm.  But sure enough, someone picked up on the other end & said they’d send an agent right over.  My sister’s curiosity would be sated, at least.

I suppose you can guess what happened next; 20 minutes later, a graying yuppie around my age showed up, clipboard in hand & jangle of keys, and took us into the Tiffany.  I noted the large, expansive lobby.  It was empty but very clean.  Jay (the agent) said “They just remodeled this, they’re going to put in some new furniture down here too.” 

We go in, head to a nearby elevator, and he presses the button for the 4th floor.  We followed him into two apartments that were remodeled from top to bottom, modern, immaculate & absolutely perfect.

New windows, parquet flooring in the dining area, kitchen tiles, maple cabinets, matching appliances include a dishwasher—all wonderul, every square inch of it

(He also showed us one with all parquet floors & solid cherry cabinets that my sister liked better, but ApacheDug loves his carpeting and knew that was for me!)

After we picked our respective chins up from the floor, opened various closet & kitchen drawers (and I ran the water in the bathroom & kitchen) we thanked him profusely for his time and happily headed home, talking excitedly all the way.  I got up early this morning, spent nearly TWO HOURS filing out various credit & rental applications, then sat here biting my nails until 1:30 waiting for a response. 

I was finally approved, will be moving in on or around April 1 & that’s no April Fools joke!

Truth be told, I absolutely dread the idea of moving again—I wish I could kick myself for throwing away $65.00 worth of packing material and boxes carefully labeled with the contents from when I moved HERE 6 months ago—but who knew I’d be leaving so soon??   I want to yell “rats!” but I can’t complain.  I’m too happy about going back to the city, and having something I can be proud to call HOME.

Be it ever so humble, welcome to Waynesburg Pa… and Bonar Avenue

Well, here it is & here I am—typing from my new (well, new to me) apartment in Waynesburg, Pa.  My sister Shawn, her husband Jim & his older son Michael arrived at my place in Pittsburgh this past Friday with a U-Haul, and thanks to their very generous help, by Sunday morning there wasn’t a moving carton, bag or tool in sight. 

There’s still plenty to do, as the walls are mostly bare and I need to find a new armchair for the living room.  But the hard part is done, and I can’t thank Jim & Shawn enough.  I’m in their debt, I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for their help.

 

 

 

 

 

Steps leading upstairs to my apartment; the first door on the right is mine; hmm, nice artwork in the hallways—just like apartment buildings on tv!

Here’s some pics of the place so far—it’s certainly not one of your more modern apartments, but I suppose it has a kitschy charm all it’s own. The owners seem kind and honest, and take great pride in the property. 

No more digital thermostats!  When I asked Sue (my landlord) how I adjust the heat this winter, she said “you turn the knob on your radiators on or off”

One of the two “industrial” bookcases my brother-in-law Jim assembled for me; doesn’t it look great?   (The other one is in the bedroom.)

My new couch was waiting for me the morning I moved in, thanks to my landlord who went to the furniture store & picked it up for me  

My galley kitchen, and a gas range--that’s a first for me

My new table & chairs from IKEA—I’m going back this weekend to get some seat cushions

I’m really digging the green-tile & pedestal sink, this puts my bath in Pittsburgh to shame

The bedroom, my sister’s favorite room in the apartment—I’m not doing it justice, it’s twice as wide as seen here, with a closet, dresser & second window on the opposite side

What’s ironic about moving here is how the other tenants see me; at my former place in Pittsburgh, the building had been overtaken by millennials, who regarded myself & three other tenants (Bill, Jim & Theresa) as the “old timers”.  Here, I’m currently the youngest tenant--as several of my new neighbors have let me know.  “Oh, you’re the young man from the city!” 

Yep, that’s me.