The Newtown Pentacle

Monday

– photo by Mitch Waxman

As described last week, your humble narrator (who cares nothing for the sporting world, and pathologically hates crowds) was avoiding Pittsburgh’s ‘Big Show’ on the North Shore, where the NFL Draft event was playing out.

Weirdo that I am, I decided that it would be a great interval to go look for remnants of large scale coal mining operations that were once extant in the Bethel Park (and here at the tippy tip of Castle Shannon) suburb, and also visit Andy Warhol’s grave.

Today’s post is from the end of that day’s efforts, when I was heading back to HQ via mass transit – specifically on the ‘T’ Light Rail.

Overbrook Junction, thereby, is pictured today.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

I should mention, in accordance with a long standing critique I’ve been offering about how bad Pittsburgh people are at signage and predictive wayfinding, that there are actually two platforms here at Overbrook.

One for the Red Line, and one for the Blue and Silver lines. You won’t know that unless you already know that, as the tiny and out of the way signage delineating the two stations has long ago had their pigment faded away by sunlight. Everybody knows where to go…

It has been mentioned that an annnoying cultural ‘custom’ in Pittsburgh is referring to modern locales through the contextual filter of times past, or landmarks which no longer exist, due to the presumption that the person you’re instructing has the same cultural/social background that you do.

Allow me to explain, then, from the perspective of a former Brooklynite, who is often confused by them:

‘Hey, I’ll meet you after lunch, around the corner from where Smith’s used to be, by the statue.’ That’s what the Yinzer might say.

The Brooklyn born response would be:

‘you’re an icehole, I don’t have any ‘effin clue what ‘effin time you eat ‘effin lunch, or where something ‘effin used to be during the ‘effin 1970’s. In the rest of the ‘effin world, we use – y’know- actual clock based ‘effin times, and the same sorts of ‘effin street addresses that the ‘effin Post Office and the rest of the motha ‘effin world does.’

Then you’d hiss at them like a surprised stray cat, and think about maybe punching them in the head to knock some sense loose in there, but don’t. At least I do, the hissing I mean, not the hitting.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

There’s an elevated freight rail trestle nearby, used by the Wheeling & Lake Erie RR outfit, and the road pictured above is a tertiary arterial street which intersects with the secondary arterial Route 88/Library Road nearby, and also heads northwest towards Mount Lebanon, and eventually Dormont, in the other direction. There’s multiple street grade crossings of the T here every hour, where the light rail units exit the station.

I’m absolutely ‘hep’ to get a shot of the W&LE crossing through on that trestle, but haven’t figured out a good time of day to lurk there.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

This one looks back at Library Road, a scene which caught my eye for some reason. Again, I’m currently enrapt by this coal story. These areas, where I’m spotting unnatural or artificial shaping of the ground, are on my radar and are something I’m ‘looking for.’

I’m not trying to ‘blow the lid off’ or expose anything hidden, I’m actually just tying to understand. The past harvest of bituminous fuel hereabouts is hardly a secret. The locals really don’t seem to want to talk about it, which is also odd.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

While waiting for my ride, I became fascinated by this broken window at the station. What can I say, I’m nearly sixty and I still run after fire trucks while yelling ‘firemen, firemen.’ Shiny.

One roughly shambled over to the correct platform for the Red Line light rail, photographically sated for the moment.

– photo by Mitch Waxman

It took about ten or so minutes, after the south bound T pictured above passed by, before a north bound rail set arrived and carried my carcass back to Dormont.

This was the first of several ‘coal explores’ which occurred the week of the NFL Draft.

Back tomorrow.

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