Posts Tagged ‘Dormont’
Operation Achpamsin
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Yeah, it was kind of a mistake going out on a day like this one. Middle to low 20’s in temperature, kind of wet, and quite windy. Days and days of accumulation of ice and snow were everywhere. No bueno.
Thinking to myself that Moe the Dog was probably wondering where I was right now, your humble narrator decided to cut off half of what he planned to do this day and begin the journey back to HQ in Dormont.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
First step was getting to the Monongahela River, and then crossing it.
Easy peasy, that. Just a matter of carefully crossing a few high volume streets, but soon I found myself at the Smithfield Street Bridge.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
After walking over the river, and resigning myself to the fact that it was Sunday and that means that I’d be waiting a very long time for a CSX train to pass through on the tracks found beneath the bridge, I headed over to the light rail station and boarded a train set heading back towards HQ.
All told, this abortive effort ended up being about five miles worth of walking. Worth doing from an exercise POV, of course, but one yearned to wander aimlessly and ‘see some stuff.’
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The T dropped me off in Dormont. I had cooked a big meal the night before and had lots of leftovers sitting in the fridge, so no worries on the evening repast.
The various camera straps were adjusted into a comfortable situation and then I headed down the hill.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A bit of signage was observed, blocking the sidewalk while cautioning against something happening soon in a cryptic manner. Me? I was vouchsafing my gamey ankle while walking through all that ice where this thing was blocking the sidewalk. Sheesh.
So far, so good.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is the block in Dormont which HQ is found on the far corner of.
The hill doesn’t look as challenging or steep as it actually is in this shot, but there’s about five to six building stories worth of differential in just a thousand or so feet from one corner to the next. Usually when walking up the hill, midway, I take a minute to let my heart rate slow down.
Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Refrigeration, writ large
Wednesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The weather has been atrocious, cold and wet, here in Pittsburgh.
Nevertheless, if your humble narrator stops moving he’ll stop moving permanently, so the pre-corpse was wrapped up in layers of insulation and the camera batteries charged up. Whoopity boop, and I’m outside.
Pictured is the view from midway up the steep hill that I live at the bottom of, which – come to think of it – is a great metaphor for my entire experience of life. One starts everyday at ‘zero,’ and then try to work my way back up. Whatever it was that I had achieved the day before is always forgotten about by those around me, so thusly I start the next day as a reborn and quite ignorant man child that needs to prove his worth by deed and intention.
As I’m writing this post, it’s still December. New Years is still a few days out at this interval. A short break was taken for the winter holidays, which ate up a bunch of my ‘lead time’ on these posts, something that I’ve been boasting about. I’ll catch back up.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is Pittsburgh’s Dormont, where HQ is found. There are no ‘mean streets here’ as all the roads are avenues. Seriously, that’s a ‘thing.’
It had been fiendishly cold for a bit, then it snowed abominably. The day these shots were captured offered atmospherics that were chilly, but tolerable. There would be an opportunity for socializing with the humans later in the day, but at this interval I needed to take a short walk and stretch out the chords and rubber bands in the roadway interface. Everything was ‘clicky’ and popping.
Too much sitting, and shoving calorie rich things into the mouth, happens during the holidays – yo. I feel like a goose that’s been farm fattened up for foie gras.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I think the scene above revolved around a house fire. I smelled wood smoke, at least.
Luckily for the people affected, the Dormont fire dept. is literally a block away from that far corner. If this was Astoria, I would have felt compelled to ‘yenta’ my way in and find out the story, but here in Dormont? Not so much. I keep to myself these days, and avoid as much contact with the humans as possible. Fractious creatures, the infestation, and given to fits of passion.
The last few years have seen me becoming less and less involved with others, and far more numb emotionally. I seem to have lost the ability to care overly about strangers. A lot of this has to do with the current state of national politics, incidentally, wherein the current dominars emphasize and celebrate cruel selfishness and group affiliations at the expense of the weak and vulnerable, whom they describe in derogatory ways. It darkens my mood to see the humans behaving so brutally towards each other, over meaningless political word salads.
Judge not lest ye be judged, or something.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This is one of Dormont’s ‘way’ streets, which are alleys.
It seems that a century or so ago, when Dormont was being developed, this ‘no streets’ thing was a part of the ‘sell’ which the Real Estate Industrial Complex of the time used to lure people into moving all the way out into the ‘country.’ No ‘mean streets’ or ‘dark alleys’ for your kids to get involved with the ‘wrong sort’ in, out here as opposed to over there. Dormont is about 5 miles out from downtown Pittsburgh, as a note.
Me? I met up with Our Lady of the Pentacle and a few friends for holiday drinks and ribald conversation. Fun. That was at the end of this short walk. Maybe three miles in total, just a ‘stretch my legs’ sort of thing.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The Mobile Oppression Platform, a Toyota, requires warranty dictated service visits at our local ‘stealership.’ They change out the juices and ichors, attach a computer that talks to the car and figures out if anything’s wrong which needs to be dealt with, rotate the tires – all that. Basically three hours of sitting around for me, starting at 8:30 in the morning.
A not insignificant amount of snow had appeared the night before, and the universal viewpoint on this weather event seemed to be that the city of Pittsburgh had ‘shit the bed,’ regarding roadway maintenance and snow management. It was quite slippery out.
The MOP was pronounced as continuing in fine fettle by the mechanics.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Just a couple of days later, it started snowing again. This photo was shot through the windshield of the MOP, while sitting at a red light, hence the tint of the photo. I don’t even remember where I was when this was captured. Usually when I’m in the car by myself, the camera and bag are sitting on the passenger seat, and at the ready.
Back tomorrow with something different – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Woke up, fell out of bed…
Thursday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Merry New Year, lords and ladies, with this post marking the start of a short scuttle’s chronicle, as well as being the start of 2026’s folderol.
It was a mid-December’s Monday in Pittsburgh, quite a cold and gray day for a scuttle. Your humble narrator wrapped himself thoroughly with an under suit of thermal garments, hidden from prying eyes beneath that swirling black sackcloth which forms my normal outer shell. The filthy black raincoat formed the most outré of the layers.
One was traveling light, using a sling bag to carry bare essentials, and had a zoom lens installed on the camera. Above, you’ll notice my ‘gray card’ shot, which is generally the first thing I do when leaving HQ. Pursuit of setting up base setting for the camera’s exposure triangle which I’d be working around for that day is why. This was captured directly in front of the house, and looks up the steep hill HQ is at the bottom of, and whose summit allows one pedestrian egress to a light rail station.
Horrible in aspect, one nevertheless launched himself forward. In the distance, an air raid siren sounded. The siren summons the volunteer fire department together, as a note. I prefer to think it’s a general alarm signaling to all concerned that your humble narrator is out and about.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As has become my custom, a shot of a T light rail unit moving ‘away from Pittsburgh’ was captured, rather than the one ‘to Pittsburgh.’ I just like the POV better for the ‘away’ viewpoint, what with the catenaries and such.
I had no specific plan for this scuttle, wasn’t ‘trying’ to catch something specific, just ‘walking here.’
It’d been a few days since the last effort, and I needed to push some force through the legs to stretch out all the rubber bands and pinions. The Pittsburgh bound ‘T’ arrived and then boarded, I paid my fare, and found a seat while continuing with a relisten of ‘The History of Rome’ podcast by Mike Duncan. I was listening to episodes that bridged the Gracchi Brothers to Sulla period on this day. That’s when the politicians in Rome began to employ private armies.
That’ll probably be at the end of 2026 for our Republic. Caesar is coming.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
As described previously, it’s about a 25-35 minute ride from Dormont on the T service to its terminal stop on Pittsburgh’s North Shore.
‘Essentials’ in the camera bag: a flash light, two prime lenses with bright apertures in addition to the zoom lens on the camera, a kitchen towel, a rocket air blower and a lens cloth, a pack of gum, and a couple of spare camera batteries.
I find having a cloth towel with me immensely handy, but I’m a Douglas Adams fan, and he would advise that it’s always good advice to carry a small towel about.
My very first freelance art job back in the 1980’s involved computer graphics (generated on a Commodore 64), which would be then be inserted into scanned photos of Douglas Adams for use in a ‘flip book’ which would animate a cup and saucer of tea landing in his hand. I got to meet and spend a little him during the photo shoot part of that job. He told me the story behind the towel thing, btw., as I had pointedly asked about it.
A young Douglas Adams was on holiday in Spain. He stripped naked at a beach to go swimming, leaving both his clothing and a towel on the sand. He returned from his swim and found that someone had stolen his clothing, and all he had to cover ‘himself’ with on the way back to his hotel was the towel. So… that’s what the man himself told a 19 or 20 year old version of your humble narrator. Nice guy, Adams, in my limited experience.
I was a fan, of course, but this encounter with him gave me some false hope that writers and artists whose work I like, whom I might meet in the future, would be similarly ‘cool guys and gals.’ Not so. Don’t meet your heroes is my advice.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
The T arrived at its terminal stop, nearby Acrisure Stadium, where the Pittsburgh Steelers dwell. As is my habit, I hung around a minute or two until all the other passengers had debarked, and then adjusted my various camera and bag straps, floating about amidst all those layers of warming garments draped about my loathsome physical firmament.
I’m all ‘effed up, mind you, and I’m talking in the physical sense as opposed to my thought process. The orthopedic agonies of 2025 forced me into sitting postures for too long. Everything hurts, and the only way to make it stop hurting is to make it hurt more until it starts hurting less and then something else can start hurting more.
This particular walk was a compromise that I made with myself, given the climate available during the interval. Rain, snow, ice, all that were in the forecast. This was the only day of the week during which precipitant concerns wouldn’t apply, but it was gray, and windy, and really cold. The kind of day that makes your nose run, but doesn’t draw tears.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Hey, lookit, somebody lost their Narcan on the bench. Hope they’re ok.
Like some sort of putrescent jelly, your humble narrator narrowly slithered over to an escalator, and then to another to street level. Scuttling out onto the sidewalk surrounding the elevated light rail station, a series of ultramundane decisions were made. A path was decided upon!
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Basically, I decided to go ‘that way.’ Like I said, ultramundane.
Back tomorrow with more – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Citrus fruit needed
Friday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Recent endeavor found your humble narrator scuttling the misery away while heading towards the T light rail, here in Pittsburgh’s Dormont.
The shot was my ‘gray card’ photo, wherein I figure out the ‘ball park’ that the day’s photo exposures will require – as far as aperture/ ISO/ and a base shutter speed. The ‘gray card’ street pictured above is dubbed ‘Mattern Avenue,’ and it’s just off the main drag of Dormont’s Potomac Avenue, with the latter byway leading to the T light Rail station.
This wasn’t going to be a ‘photo day’ per se, as in the main goal for the effort revolved around exercise, and burning out a few miles of pure walkie walkie cardio style time while shooting a ‘photowalk’ series as I did so. Got to keep it interesting.
In fact, my goal for the day was six to seven miles, which I hit.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
A T light Rail unit arrived, and after paying the fare, your humble narrator settled into a seat. They use a zone system on the service, and the customer pays when boarding on a rail unit heading into Pittsburgh, and conversely when debarking after heading away from Pittsburgh. They’ve also got a sliding fare scale with discounts for kids, senior citizens, and others. It’s all very confusing.
It’s about a 20-30 minute trip, from Dormont to one of the T stations that’s nearby a baseball stadium, on Pittsburgh’s North Shore.
The ‘North Shore’ is a complex of high volume bars and restaurants with a football and baseball stadium, and there’s a very well used pedestrian/bicycle trail. Apparently ‘North Shore’ is the colloquial name for this northern bank of the Allegheny River, distinguishing it from ‘North Side,’ which is an entirely different ‘zone.’ Also very confusing.
The T deposited me on an underground platform beneath said baseball stadium, PNC Park. This is the section of the T’s route where it runs like a subway. This too is confusing, but I’m slow and old.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Luckily, the escalators were working just fine, and soon this device rudely thrust me back up onto the streets where I belong.
The plan for the day revolved around ‘flat’ and pushing my busted up ankle’s capabilities in pursuit of speeding up both gait and stride. I’ve always been quite aware of my walking postures, as it’s a ‘thing,’ but this injury really forced me into analytical thought about stride and gait. Where the toe is pointed, how the heel strikes, the rolling nature of a step, the push off at the end of said step… all that.
A weird thing about this walk was that I was experiencing emotions, of an almost human nature. All of my prior twelve months were swirling about, between the ears and behind the eyes, a year which started with me confined to a wheelchair and stuck in the house with a shattered ankle. Now look at me, walking about aimlessly like a big boy, again.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
My footfalls, which now omit the ‘drag’ and have become just a steady ‘thump, thump, thump,’ carried me to the shoreline of the Allegheny River and the popular waterfront trail mentioned above.
The plan was to hang a left on the trail, and follow a more or less northwesterly path to either the 31st or 40th street bridges upriver. From there, I’d then cross the river and hang a right, following one of the avenue streets back downtown where I’d catch a ride back to HQ on the T at one of the downtown area stations.
About 6-7 miles, this plan, ended up being about 6.5 miles ultimately. Some interesting stuff was encountered along the way, but as stated – this was an exercise walk which would provide opportunities for photography – rather than the other way around.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
An access ramp for wheelchair users to access the baseball stadium from the riverfront trail is adorned with a series of numbers fabricated from steel. Apparently, these are historical and retired numbers which were worn by hall of fame members of the Pittsburgh Pirates.
Me? I just thought it looked neat, and I wanted to check out how the ramp functioned, given my recent acquaintance with the challenges of losing your mobility.
To be fair, though, I was always the singular voice in Western Queens who asked ‘what about people in wheelchairs’ when the bike people were shouting and accusing car owners of existing in a ‘state of pre murder.’
When I was on the Astoria community board in NYC, I actually boxed the bike people in during one meeting when a statement from the Deputy ‘Commish’ of the DOT included the phrase ‘all electric and human powered wheeled vehicles will be welcome in the Crescent Street Bike Lane.’ I asked ‘so… the one big wheel skateboard things… they’re welcome too?’ They said ‘yes.’ ‘Scooters?’ I asked. ‘Yes.’ ‘What about electric wheelchairs?’
The DOT people got up and huddled in the corner, having a quick meeting of whispers. They came back and said ‘yes.’
The ‘death eyes’ stare I got from the Transportation Alternatives crowd and their allies in NYC DOT is something that still makes me giggle, years later. Ableist iceholes.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
One continued on his lonely way, filthy black raincoat flapping about in the breeze. It was cold in Pittsburgh, and overcast. This time around, I was relistening to another old favorite in my audio books collection – a podcast by a fellow named Mike Duncan called ‘The History of Rome.’
On did I scuttle…
Back next week with more – at this – your Newtown Pentacle.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
Ritmo
Tuesday
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Your humble narrator always attempts to follow a certain rhythm to his life, a staccato beat that was interrupted by the ankle injury last year.
Despite my servicing of the ultramundanities of daily existence, the rythyms of the walking schedule are increasing in frequency somehow. For much of the last six months, I’ve been hampered by physical constraints and limitations, but that’s mostly behind me. The ankle still hurts, pretty much all the time, but pain (like fear) is the mind killer. Best to just tough it out and get on with things.
Launching myself up the steep hill I dwell at the bottom of and towards the T light rail has become a bit of a ritual for me. Heart rate gets noticeably quicker by the time I reach the next corner, after climbing up that steep elevation, and after a ‘catch my breath’ moment, it’s a quick and easy push up to get to the Patomac Station on the T. I try to keep my ticker ticking at an elevated rate for the length of these endeavors, but not racing or pounding.
Along the way, this scene caught my eye for some reason.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
It was a misty and foggy day in Pittsburgh, with temperatures in the 50’s. Despite all the atmospherics, rain was not forecast, and one decided that at the end of this day’s effort a pint or two of beer and a set of locomotive photos would be on my list of things to do.
This was one of the walks where I was working on ‘speeding up’ my gait. As mentioned previously, one finds himself casually striding again, but I’m moving a lot slower than formerly, before the injury. I’m concerned at the moment with regaining ‘burst speed,’ aka the ability to ‘maximum boogie’ if needed. I’m hoping to get to being able to manifest about 100 feet worth of ‘boogie’ by the end of the winter.
Maximum boogie? Yeah, that’s when you sprint across an intersection or bust a move while trying to catch a train or a bus.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Pictured is a T moving away from Pittsburgh towards the South Hills section. It’s a better shot than the one of the actual T which I rode into the city on, as I dig all of those catenary wires forming into the background.
On the platform, I was chatting with some dude that was a recently retired Army Drill Sergeant, while we were mutually waiting for the train, and he was a surprisingly nice guy for someone whose entire career was based around telling people they’re not good enough and calling them weaklings or sister lovers.
I should have asked him what he’d charge to follow me around, and yell at me to move faster, while questioning my ancestry and telling me how much I suck. It would be like my Jewish mother had come back to life.
It’s just over a half hour’s journey from Dormont to the end of the line on Pittsburgh’s ‘North Shore.’ That’s the part of Pittsburgh nearby the stadiums, and a mass of entertainment and night life businesses. I wasn’t going there, though.
On this occasion, I was going to be debarking the T in Allentown, at a temporary stop which the T people have established while they rebuild a transit tunnel that the service normally uses.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
Stepping off the T actually triggered the PTSD I’ve been experiencing regarding steps, but such moments of existential panic have become common. This walk was focused on exercising the calfs and the top and frontage of the thighs, so the City Steps of Pittsburgh would once again be utilized as my gymnasium.
The camera bag and camera strap were adjusted and set into a comfortable manner against the decay of my pre-corpse, and then off I scuttled. I was ‘wearing’ the camera under the filthy black raincoat, just in case it started raining. It didn’t.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
This time around, I was listening to music on the headphones, specifically a ‘mix tape’ playlist on my phone. I don’t do Spotify or any of the streaming services for music, instead I buy and download from the Apple Store. I’m told that I’m old fashioned, which cracks me up.
My problem with streaming is the same one that I have with those little air buds which everyone uses – doesn’t fit my lifestyle.
When I go out, it can be all day. I cannot run the battery down on my phone for something frivolous like streaming music. The audio files on my phone have virtually zero impact on the battery when they’re playing through wired headphones. I use the white Apple wired headphones, which pop out of my ears on their own accord all the time, and then dangle on their wires until I place them back in my ear holes.
The only piece of gear which ever gotten away from me and was lost, in all these years. was a ‘rocket blower’ which ended up splashing into Newtown Creek (nearby the Metropolitan Avenue Bridge).
Those super expensive air buds which are the current ‘de rigueur’ use Bluetooth to connect wirelessly to the phone and thereby eat a lot of battery juice. I really don’t want to have to carry a power bank and a cable around with me, too. I do so when traveling, but for day to day? Bluetooth headphones just create a problem that needs additional gear for me to solve.
Best to use the wired headphones, for me.
– photo by Mitch Waxman
I can’t help but take advantage of serendipity and crack out a shot when a vista just appears like this.
This section I was scuttling through, dubbed the ‘South Side Slopes,’ is carved onto a very steep elevation. Multiple posts over the last few months have explored several of the many, many pathways from ‘up here’ to ‘down there.’
Back tomorrow with more.
“follow” me on Twitter- @newtownpentacle
Buy a book!
“In the Shadows at Newtown Creek,” an 88 page softcover 8.5×11 magazine format photo book by Mitch Waxman, is now on sale at blurb.com for $30.
The Newtown Pentacle 