With our recent AFC Championship defeat, an age-old problem that plagues citizens of my hometown has reared its ugly head.
Whenever people ask me where I'm from and I answer, "Pittsburgh," I usually get a hand on the shoulder and a heartfelt, "I'm sorry."
After a while, this reaction wears on you. I started to agree. "You're right," I'd say, "Pittsburgh is an awful town." But as the Steelers battled for the glory of the 'Burgh just a few weeks ago, I snapped out of it. I like pity as much as next guy, but this has got to stop!
So listen up all you New England, West Coast and big-city slickers! It's time to stop picking on the little guy. You've got a lot of misconceptions about my fair hometown, and at the University of Pennsylvania -- where hundreds of students are from the Pittsburgh area and other small cities across the country -- our numbers are too big to ignore.
There are some things you need to know.
First, Pittsburgh is spelled with an "h" at the end. We are not Pittsburg, California or Pittsburg, New Hampshire. In 1890, the U.S. Board on Geographic Names tried to take away our "h" in an attempt to standardize the spelling of city names, changing "burghs" to "burgs," "boroughs" to "boros," etc. Pittsburghers protested, threatened to have a second Whiskey Rebellion, and in 1911, we won our "h" back. We fought to keep it, so show some respect!
The next thing you need to know is that Pittsburgh is not some grimy, hazardous-to-your-health, knee-deep-in-coal city. True, we were once a steel town, a proud member of the Rust Belt. True, in the early decades of the 20th century, you could wear a white shirt to work and come home wearing a black one. But things have changed. In recent times, Pittsburgh has been ranked as one of the most livable and affordable cities in America. The air and water are clean, and we've managed to keep the West Virginians off our streets.
Oh, and stop trying to put Pittsburgh in its place! Our city isn't part of the Midwest (Cleveland's there for God's sake, our archenemy), nor is it part of the East Coast (we've been trying to push Philly into New Jersey for some time now). We are Western Pennsylvanians. Let's leave it at that.
Think no one important ever came from Pittsburgh? Where do you New Yorkers suppose you got Carnegie (that's "Car-NAY-gie" not "CARN-negie) Hall? Ever eat Heinz ketchup or wonder how John Kerry paid for his Botox? All of it was brought to you by Pittsburgh. Stephen Foster, Jimmy Stewart, Andy Warhol and many others came from our area. So if you're into steamboats, old Hollywood or Campbell's Soup, pack your bags.
Think that Pittsburgh is a good-for-nothing ghost town that never produced anything useful? Ever hear of a handy little invention called the polio vaccine? Jonas Salk discovered it in Pittsburgh. We claim the nation's first radio station, movie theater, gas station and its first modern World Series -- the Boston Americans took five of seven from the Pirates in 1903 (shut up!). We invented the banana split, Big Mac and emoticon :-). Pittsburgh is the entrance to the Ohio-Mississippi waterway, making it the nation's largest inland port. And Pittsburgh boasts more bridges (720) than any city in the world except Venice. Impressed? No? Then don't let me stop you from jumping off one.
And enough about you people from "Bahston" or "Noo Yauk" or "Chicaahgo." You think those are accents? Try Pittsburghese. Our official language is so bewildering that entire dictionaries have been dedicated to deciphering our speech. We say things like, "Yunz guys redd up n'air," "Ahz gots gumbans n'at" and "Worsh it dahn wit a can a arn." If you have no idea what I just said, then you have a lot to learn.
And finally, there are our sports teams -- the Pirates, Penguins and Steelers. Pittsburghers live and die by their legendary teams. The pantheon of athletics glistens with names like Clemente, Lemieux and Bradshaw. Still fresh are the days of the Immaculate Reception, while Bettis and Roethlisberger terrorize the gridiron. A new era is coming, and we'll be ready with our Terrible Towels to mop up after the slaughter.
I admit that Pittsburgh is no Paris, London or Rome, but it is my hometown. We're fond of our city in the way that one is fond of a faithful dog or a trusty pair of old shoes. We like it because it's ours; it's who we are.
So, big-city folk, give us little guys some credit. And small-towners, stick up for your roots. I'm proud to be from Pittsburgh, just as anyone should be proud of his hometown ... even if you're from Cleveland.
