Memory Lane

Last week, my team was called into a 'mandatory' meeting. Lunch would be provided. Mandatory and a meal, it was bound to be bad.

Righto. More 'change' was coming. After the amount of shuffling and reshuffling I've experienced recently, it wasn't surprising to hear the foreboding buzzword (orchestrated by overpaid mileage guzzling consultants) once again. Except this time things were looking a little more drastic. The move downtown was imminent. More lay offs were coming. Restructuring, debanding, drama, tears, hallway whispers, all coming to a cube near you. And soon.

There was no time like the present for a week long vacation. And to a place that seemed as far removed from corporate America as possible. My childhood: Memory Lane, Pittsburgh PA.

***

When we arrived in Pittsburgh last Friday night, Mary wanted to bypass dinner at Ditka's and go straight to Nana and Opa's house. She wanted to see Molly (my American Girl doll), set up Molly's tea set, read to Molly, and put Molly to bed; then play with the Fisher Price guys, do puzzles, try on my old tap shoes, dance, and explore old closets with memorabilia eager to shed its dust and relive its youth.

After dinner, after some play time that crept further and further past her normal bed time, I convinced her to close her eyes with the lingering promise that we had a full week to experience everything Nana and Opa's house and Pittsburgh had to offer.

And that's just what we did. At Nana and Opa's house we sifted through my shelves and drawers which hosted ideas for new art projects: peanut people, worry dolls, and boo-boo bunnies. We found the old Viewmaster and clicked through the three dimensional story lines of Snow White and Pinnocchio. We applied a nicely aged Lipsmacker circa 1991. We picked old favorites from my bookshelf for storytime: Tikki Tikki Tembo, Popcorn, and Pups for Sale. We stacked our wrists with Beadery bracelets collected over the years from Aunt Ann. We used old letters and maps as props for perilous treasure hunts around my parents' house. And of course we played with Molly and all her miniature collectibles, and this time Aunt Erin let us play with Samantha as well.

Then I rediscovered some of my favorite parts of growing up in Pittsburgh: Kennywood, the Squirrel Hill Library, the Blue Slide Park, Shadyside, Sacred Heart, the Pittsburgh Golf Club, the Point, PPG Place, Frick Park, Mellon Park, and the family birthday parties that used to dot every week. Even for someone who was born and raised in Pittsburgh; a week isn't enough time to take it all in. But we did as much as we could, showing Peter, Mary and Bobby, just how to do it right.

How to pick your Kennywood outfit. (And not pop out of it by the end of the day.)

How you ride, swing, WHIP! ...

   

And put your hands way up high ... 

How to schedule a break for fries.

And then one for corn dogs, ice cream and Italian Ice.

How you create a monstrous echo inside the belly of the big water logged tunnel near the Point.

And then how you get your face painted on the other side.

  

How you walk through the Three Rivers Arts Festival, listen to Opera on the green, sip $6 lemonades, and relax surrounded by art.

 

How you run along the fort walls and fountain lip without falling in.

      

How you snuggle with Patty and laugh with Bill. And how you save a couple new art project tips for a rainy day.

  

How you organize the Fisher Price village and share. SHARE!

How you get dressed for dinner at the Golf Club.

 

And try to behave.

How you cheer for the home teams until the bring home the Cup!

 

How you celebrate not just one birthday ...

         

But a couple of them.

        

With as many baked goods as possible.

           

But as much as I strolled with my family through Memory Lane, there was a lot of Pittsburgh that was shiny and new; memories that will be unique to the next generation of yinzers and their visitors.

  

New restaurants and chic new housing developments. New shops and new bakeries. New members and new faces. Remodels, renovations, and relocations. New addresses and new zip codes. New recital halls, beautiful new dancers, and their glowing admirers.

Ten days in Pittsburgh flew by and this afternoon we will fly home. Despite how much I will miss this special place once again, I know some people are anxious to be in their own beds, play with their own toys, see their local loved ones, and help me chase the bunnies out of the yard in protection of my plantings.

But we will take with us the memories and photos; connection points of my past with their present.

Lo.