by the way...

and I do know that I'm a day late on this one, but...

Rick Sebak's newest Pittsburgh documentary Underground Pittsburgh was really, really good. As usual, his stuff is fun, educational, laid-back and interesting.

And if you missed it, it will be on again, Sunday at noon.

Also, he has another national project underway, called something like To Market, To Market, about farmer's markets and other outdoor sales settings. So all my non-Pittsburgh friends can catch some Rick soon too!

River's up.

It has been just raining cats and dogs, so of course, the river is up. Actually, all three rivers are up. But the Allegheny is the one I usually focus on.

I live near it, I work near it. In essence, it is "my" river.

And it is up.

Which means construction on the North Shore Connector will likely screech to a halt.

Listen, do you hear that? The sound, like water rushing? Yeah, that's your tax money going down the drain on that silly wasteful project.

basic economics

I recently read that Mayor Wonder Boy (Luke Lip-Synchin' Ravenstahl) drinks something like 12 cans of Diet Pepsi a day.

A day!

I'm kind of alarmed by this. I mean, that has to be taking a toll on his health. The sounds like way to much caffeine consumption. And it will turn his teeth brown. Just bad news all around.

However, this is not what concerns me the most. What concerns me is the economics of it all. It just isn't very economical to drink 12 cans of Diet Pepsi a day. Everyone knows if you are going to drink that much soda, er, I mean pop, it is so much cheaper to buy it by the 2-liter.

Man, and we want him to take care of the budget of our city?

Did you really think I'd only do one post that mentioned Mike Tomlin?

Here is a letter I wrote to the Pittburgh Post-Gazette's sport's mailbag. I doubt that it is going to get published, so I thought I'd go ahead and post it here.

It seems like everyone and their mother has an opinion on Mike Tomlin. And after reading and listening to what my fellow Pittsburghers are saying, I am very disappointed. More than a few have voiced opinions that Tomlin isn’t the man for the job because his history doesn’t include playing at a “big-time” college.

This makes me think some don’t take small college football seriously.

Or worse yet, that some believe the players at small colleges don’t take the game seriously.

I really hope that no one holds that opinion. Because it is dead wrong. No one, and I mean no one, takes football more seriously than the players at a small college.

First of all, the academic standards of most of the smaller schools are notoriously higher than at most larger institutions. Playing ball isn’t their main job—achieving in the classroom is. The fact that these young men do achieve academically, while maintaining intense training and practice schedules shows their dedication.

Second, the driving force in small school football is totally different than at “big-time” schools. The young men who play Division II, A-II, and (especially) III, know this, with very few exceptions, is the end of their football careers.

They are out there, doing the same 2-a-days, in 90 degree heat and 95% humidity. They are putting hours into studying game tapes as well as their textbooks. These young men are as serious about this game as anyone can be.

It is just the reasons that they do it that are different.

But they are doing it with the love of the game in their hearts, the discipline they have learned in their minds, and confidence in their souls. They do it with respect for the game, their coaches and teammates, their schools and communities, and even their opponents.

They aren’t doing it to be “big man on campus” or to show-off and hot-dog it. They don’t do it for pro-scouts. Or the chance at million dollar contracts and fancy shoe endorsements. Most of them do it without even a scholarship.

So, if this is what Mike Tomlin is bringing to the table, I’ll be waiting with open arms. Maybe if the NFL had more small school discipline, we’d see less pros being arrested, less show-boating during games, and fewer press conferences called for the sole reason of making apologies.

All I’m saying, is as a city that loves the sport, we need to give Tomlin a chance. And while we are at it, maybe we should show some support of all the good small school football we have around here. Go catch a game at CMU, where they teach the wing-T offense with the same precision that is devoted to their robotics program. Or head out to little Washington, where at W & J you can see a game with hits as hard as any big school (but where you’ll actually get to sit close enough to see & hear them). Take a road trip up north to check out schools like Allegheny College, Thiel College, Grove City College or Edinboro University. Or if you’d rather head west, go to neighboring Ohio and see Hiram, Kenyon, Oberlin, Wittenberg, Denison, Wabash, Wooster, Ohio Wesleyan, or the ultimate in small school football—the Mount Union Purple Raiders (with 8 National Championships in 11 years, often with young western Pennsylvanians on the roster.) So go find a small school game: there are many close by, the tickets are cheap, and rarely is there a bad seat in the house. These may be the best games no one is watching.


Hope you enjoyed it. And for real, find a D-III game and have some fun.

I guess this is why people don't get involved anymore.

So, I sort of had a run-in with a junkie last night.

The whole story is kind of sad and disturbing.

It is this guy that lives in my building. Even before I moved in, I knew of him, through mutual friends. They warned me, “He’s goofy” but they explained that he was in recovery and that between the prescriptions he needed to maintain sobriety (isn’t that an oxymoron?) and the damage he did to himself, he was permanently off-center.

But the more I saw him around, the more convinced I became he wasn’t goofy. He hadn’t stopped using.

My involvement started with his girlfriend asking to use my phone—he wasn’t home yet and she was locked out of their apartment. She is a nice enough girl, though I fear just a little naïve.

She couldn’t seem to get a hold of him and the longer this went on, the more of their story I heard. It finally ended when 3 police cars escorted him home.

I walked with his girlfriend out to meet him and the police (for fear that she may get herself locked out again). Also in the crowd was a man who identified himself as the building owner’s son (which is not surprising—I’m really not sure how many sons this guy has but I know I haven’t met them all). The conversation was swirling around me and as I wasn’t part of it, I heard only a few choice words: “happening again”, “heroin”, “get him some help”, and “eviction” are the ones that stick out in my mind.

Once I saw that the two were reunited and we all headed back into the building, I returned to my apartment. Only to hear crazy sounds of yelling and banging. I quickly realized that not only did she not have keys, but that in his state of highness, he had no idea where his set was either.

Then finally, there was peace.

You would think that would be the end of the story. But of course, it isn’t. A buddy called. He and another friend of mine were in the neighborhood. I had borrowed a DVD from him. If he pulled up and the other guy ran to the door, could I bring it down? Sure, why not. Except, on my way down, I came upon the neighbor, unconscious on the stairs.

What to do, what to do.

So, like any rational human being (or so I hope) I used the other stairs to meet the friend. Where I find that the security door had been propped. The friend is there and wondering what is going on—he noticed the open door and said the building’s back courtyard had been trashed. I ask if either he or our buddy still out in the car could stick around awhile. He obliges and I tell him to follow me as I dial 911.

I lock us safely back in my apartment as I make my report to the dispatcher. I make the report partially anonymous—first name only. And I take a return call from the dispatcher, to give further instructions for the police on how to enter the building.

My last direct involvement occurred as I stood next to my front door, listening for the officers to enter the building. I heard one radio for an ambulance to my building’s address, citing an unconscious male, possibly over-dosed.

And while that may be my last direct involvement in the situation, don’t think for a minute the whole ordeal hasn’t haunted me. Trust me, there is still a lot of worry and concern occurring. Even a nightmare last night. Hope tonight is easier.

So, snow?

Finally, we are getting a little snow. And it is actually the pretty kind, not the nasty little flecks of ice.

This coincides with me reading The Children's Blizzard, which is very interesting, though not the most upbeat of reading choices. I think more people should check it out.

I say that as a fan of true disaster books. So, get The Children's Blizzard. Also get: The Worst Hard Time and The Johnstown Flood. If you like them depressing.

Guaranteed 100% free from any and all Grimm puns.

As a card carrying member of the Steeler Nation and owner of this blog, I see it is necessary for me to make a post about the Steelers. I don’t feel the need, but for some reason, I think I just might lose that status as Steeler Nation Citizen if I don’t blog about them.

So, here is my effort. As promised, there will be no puns on Grimm’s name. Nor will I attempt to find something, anything, that rhymes with Tomlin.

My opinion on the Steelers hiring Mike Tomlin? Well, to be honest, no one cares. I mean, about my opinion. At least, no one who counts cares. It isn’t like the Rooneys rang me up and said, “Hey, Kel, who do YOU think we should hire?” And that is the way it is supposed to be.

And when the time comes for me to make a major purchase, say new winter boots, I don’t call the Rooney family for their input (though I’m sure that Dan would have no problems choosing a stylish pair). While the Rooney’s favorite non-football past-time very well may be watching the proles like me scramble on foot across an icy Clemente bridge during the morning commute, they keep their boot purchasing advice to themselves.

They don’t care where I found them, how much I paid for them, how much “experience” they have, what color, style, or scheme they are. They leave me and my boots alone.

And I suggest we give them the same respect.

We will all find out soon enough what Mike Tomlin is made of, how he fits the Steeler’s organization. We may all be pleasantly pleased to learn that he is the perfect fit. Or we may find out that he isn’t and should have never even stopped in our town. But either way, our job, as fans, is to sit down, shut up and watch the game. The answers come at the end and we have no reason to believe we deserve them any sooner.