Years ago, a California dairy called "Berkeley Farms" ran radio advertisements with the tag line, "Cows in Berkeley? Mooooooo!"
I thought of those ads this morning when I saw Pop City's latest feature, "The Hip Guide to Pittsburgh." Hipsters in Pittsburgh? Mooooooo!
Seriously, it's neat that there are enough self-conscious hipsters in the Burgh that there is a kind of a "scene" here, even if it feels forced to call it that. Lower Lawrenceville as LoLa? Somewhere, Ray Davies is giggling.
Pittsburgh has the potential to be a lot of things, including home to a lot of cool art and artists, and some clever restaurants. Hip isn't one of them. Young Floridian "creatives" are a bit more in evidence these days, but Pittsburgh's economic fortunes haven't changed. Hipness requires a certain studied indifference to the past; hipness is the attitude that it's all about me, and all about today. That's an attitude that Pittsburgh as a whole has a very hard time abiding; it's OK in children and in Steelers fans on Sunday afternoon, but when Pittsburgh goes back to work the region remembers its history. What looks like hip are really pockets of weirdness. Andy Warhol was born here and is buried here, but he lived his hip life in New York. The eponymous museum, the anchor of Pittsburgh's alleged hipness, is a black hole of weirdness.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Innovation and Investment Notes
At dinner last week, I heard an interesting exchange concerning the local climate for start-up investment.
On the one side was what I might call the "traditionalist" view: tech start-ups in Pittsburgh struggle to find local financing, because local early stage investors are much more cautious than their coastal counterparts. Start-ups that are any good can find coastal financing, but that puts pressure on the founders to relocate to the coasts.
On the other side was what I might call the "revisionist" view: Quality tech start-ups in Pittsburgh can find local financing - if they know where to look - and can manage to stay local and (try to) succeed, if they want to.
Both perspectives were (and are) ably represented by people who are, I think it's fair to say, in a position to know. We'll call the discussion "six of one, half dozen of the other," at least for now. Part of the phenomenon is where the money is really coming from and where it is really going. Part of the phenomenon is the rhetoric of the conversation. Even in the Silicon Valley, early stage capital isn't falling from trees like it once did, but the prevailing tone of dinner conversations is optimistic.
In that same "maybe this, maybe that" category is this story from the local newspaper that covers Palo Alto (heart of the Silicon Valley), which reports on a recent study that concludes that the Valley is losing its innovation edge. (H/t to Jim R. at Burgh Diaspora) One conclusion is that economies are competing based on human capital strategies. California, with its almost wilful disregard of public education, is doomed to do badly. Pittsburgh, an optimist might conclude, is positioned to do well, especially in light of the following quotation from the report: "Investment [in the SV] is shifting away from software and semiconductors and into biotechnology, energy, medical devices, and media." Those, or at least most of them, sound like Pittsburgh's strengths.
On the one side was what I might call the "traditionalist" view: tech start-ups in Pittsburgh struggle to find local financing, because local early stage investors are much more cautious than their coastal counterparts. Start-ups that are any good can find coastal financing, but that puts pressure on the founders to relocate to the coasts.
On the other side was what I might call the "revisionist" view: Quality tech start-ups in Pittsburgh can find local financing - if they know where to look - and can manage to stay local and (try to) succeed, if they want to.
Both perspectives were (and are) ably represented by people who are, I think it's fair to say, in a position to know. We'll call the discussion "six of one, half dozen of the other," at least for now. Part of the phenomenon is where the money is really coming from and where it is really going. Part of the phenomenon is the rhetoric of the conversation. Even in the Silicon Valley, early stage capital isn't falling from trees like it once did, but the prevailing tone of dinner conversations is optimistic.
In that same "maybe this, maybe that" category is this story from the local newspaper that covers Palo Alto (heart of the Silicon Valley), which reports on a recent study that concludes that the Valley is losing its innovation edge. (H/t to Jim R. at Burgh Diaspora) One conclusion is that economies are competing based on human capital strategies. California, with its almost wilful disregard of public education, is doomed to do badly. Pittsburgh, an optimist might conclude, is positioned to do well, especially in light of the following quotation from the report: "Investment [in the SV] is shifting away from software and semiconductors and into biotechnology, energy, medical devices, and media." Those, or at least most of them, sound like Pittsburgh's strengths.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Why We Blog: A Sports Metaphor and a Mt. Lebanon Anecdote
Out in my little suburban paradise of Mt. Lebanon, where the streets are plowed and the sidewalks are clear, and all of the children are above average, there is a blogging war going on. (On reconsideration, "war" is a bit strong. I'll call it "dialogue coded pointedly.")
Non-Mt. Lebanon readers are likely already thinking to themselves, who cares about the self-indulgent jerks who live out there, wherever it is? Someone may post a comment to that effect. I will approve the comment, because it is largely well-taken. But there is a broader point, and if you're interested in that, then read on.
The blog that I founded and participated in for several years, "Blog-Lebo," continues without me, stronger than ever. The mission of Blog-Lebo always has been to offer a *critical* perspective on that hamlet: the good, the bad, and the ugly, without kowtowing to the municipal powers that be, the school board powers that be, the real estate community that powers much of the powers that be, or the myth and legend, of which both Mt. Lebanon and Pittsburgh as a whole are so fond, that Mt. Lebanon is the best place on earth. Mt. Lebanon is fond of the myth because its residents often take it all too seriously (and use it to indulge a smug "we moved here because it's the best place on earth" mentality); elsewhere in Pittsburgh, people are fond of the myth because it feeds their dislike and disgust about the town.
Earlier this Winter, a competitor blog sprung up, "Real Lebo," which purports to offer news of "what's really happening" in Mt. Lebanon, and which is trying to position itself as the kinder, gentler blog. No insults, no provocation; Real Lebo is above the fray. As with many missions of that kind, that premise is honored more in the breach than the observance. Real Lebo, in fact, is home to plenty of insults and provocation. Such is the nature of the blogging beast, especially in a haven of class- and status-anxiety like Pittsburgh. You thought that I would say that Mt. Lebanon is a haven of class- and status anxiety? It surely is - nothing drives Mt. Lebanon more than fear of lost prestige - but Mt. Lebanon is merely representative of Pittsburgh's larger class anxiety. Different communities around the region are anxious about different facets of class status, of course; I'm not saying that every place is just like Mt. Lebanon, for ill or for good. My experience with the local blogosphere, however, has been that Pittsburghers as a whole are far better behaved as commenters at this blog -- Pittsblog -- than they have been on the whole either at Blog-Lebo or at Real Lebo. Class and status anxiety is a highly localized thing. In Mt. Lebanon, right now the focus of our class anxiety is the proposal to build a new high school. The two blogs are now dueling, among other things, in their positioning of arguments about what to do and how much to spend.
But the content of the arguments is matched by a duel over tone and style, and it is tone and style that really interest me this morning. Real Lebo has a post up titled Blogging is a Lot Like Hockey (the title is a bit of misdirection; blogging has nothing to do with forechecking and backchecking) that contrasts youth teams coached by screamers (this is bad) with youth teams coached by kind and gentle coaches (this is good). The point is that we all get to "choose" our teams. The implicit message is that Real Lebo posters, readers, commenters, and sympathists are in the second, "good" group, and that Blog Lebo posters, readers, commenters, and sympathists are in the first, "bad" group.
Again, for those of you who don't live in Mt. Lebanon, this is ridiculous and self-indulgent. But there is a lesson here for Pittsburgh, because it gives me a great excuse to mix metaphors and explain my own blogging philosophy -- which has nothing to do with Mt. Lebanon, because I don't blog there any longer -- and everything to do with Pittsblog and Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh, as I have written over and over, is endlessly anxious about its place in the world. And it suffers from an unfortunate lack of thoughtful critical assessment about what to do about that. Pittsblog is my little corner of the world of critical assessment. Sometimes, I write about cupcakes; sometimes I write about entrepreneurs; it's all about Pittsburgh's present and future identities.
Is blogging a team sport? No, it's really not. But there is a useful sporting analogy to play with. First, however, we have to toss out ice hockey and bring in my favorite sport, soccer. (No offense to hockey partisans, but Pittsblog readers know that it's not my sport.) The soccer/hockey difference is important only because my story is a soccer story. Yours may be a hockey story, or a basketball story, or something else.
I was a coach for recreational and travel soccer teams in the Mt. Lebanon Soccer Association for many years, both boys and girls. I also coached in Boston, where I lived before moving to Pittsburgh, and in Oakland, California before that. My coaching philosophy was consistent, and it was a philosophy that I learned from my own coach – my father: Never yell at the kids, especially during games. In fact, my father picked up that rule many, many years ago during my own playing career, when one of my teammates came over to him at halftime of a game and said, “We'd play better if you'd yell less.” We were, I think, about 12 years old. My father was a quick learner. He never raised his voice on the sideline again, and he preached that lesson in coaching seminars for decades afterward. He was so successful with that message, and with the rest of his coaching philosophy, that a local youth soccer league was named after him last Fall. Meanwhile, my teams won their share of championships under his leadership, including a California state club championship during my senior year in high school.
If you don't yell at the kids, they don't necessarily win more games. They learn more, but they still lose a lot. Many of the parents of the kids on my teams are still in town, and they can verify that my MLSA teams won some games and lost some games. Winning was never the point. The point was teaching love of the game. Lots of the kids that I coached stayed with soccer and played varsity soccer for Mt. Lebanon. The parents who expected to win a lot were, I think, occasionally disappointed with what I was doing. The parents who took the long view were, I think, mostly satisfied.
Even though you don't yell at the kids, as a coach you still challenge the kids. You have to. Whether on the field, in the classroom, or in the political arena, no one learns anything unless they are challenged; otherwise, it's all “you're wonderful, keep doing what you're doing, isn't this a great thing?” and what's the point of that? I pushed the kids: run harder, run faster, think about what you're doing with the ball. Keep the ball and challenge an opponent. Share the ball and go around the opponent. Find the space, fill the space. Attack. Challenge the other player with the ball. And above all – don't be afraid of the ball. These are often uncomfortable lessons. They aren't always easy lessons. The kids pushed back. Many of them thrived. Some of my former players are now playing college soccer. Some of them dropped away from the sport. Some have gone on to success in other sports. (One of the youngest and smallest girls on my first team now starts for Johns Hopkins in field hockey.) My kids tasted success, and they experienced defeat. Done right, coaching and playing youth sports offer the opportunity to teach the lesson that you don't always get what you want in life. But – and I have to say it – you get what you need.
Whether in Mt. Lebanon or in Pittsburgh, blogging, you might say, is a lot like coaching soccer. Push, challenge. The kids will push back, and some will fall away as many will thrive. Soccer isn't everyone's cup of tea. And don't step on the field if you're not ready to mix it up.
Non-Mt. Lebanon readers are likely already thinking to themselves, who cares about the self-indulgent jerks who live out there, wherever it is? Someone may post a comment to that effect. I will approve the comment, because it is largely well-taken. But there is a broader point, and if you're interested in that, then read on.
The blog that I founded and participated in for several years, "Blog-Lebo," continues without me, stronger than ever. The mission of Blog-Lebo always has been to offer a *critical* perspective on that hamlet: the good, the bad, and the ugly, without kowtowing to the municipal powers that be, the school board powers that be, the real estate community that powers much of the powers that be, or the myth and legend, of which both Mt. Lebanon and Pittsburgh as a whole are so fond, that Mt. Lebanon is the best place on earth. Mt. Lebanon is fond of the myth because its residents often take it all too seriously (and use it to indulge a smug "we moved here because it's the best place on earth" mentality); elsewhere in Pittsburgh, people are fond of the myth because it feeds their dislike and disgust about the town.
Earlier this Winter, a competitor blog sprung up, "Real Lebo," which purports to offer news of "what's really happening" in Mt. Lebanon, and which is trying to position itself as the kinder, gentler blog. No insults, no provocation; Real Lebo is above the fray. As with many missions of that kind, that premise is honored more in the breach than the observance. Real Lebo, in fact, is home to plenty of insults and provocation. Such is the nature of the blogging beast, especially in a haven of class- and status-anxiety like Pittsburgh. You thought that I would say that Mt. Lebanon is a haven of class- and status anxiety? It surely is - nothing drives Mt. Lebanon more than fear of lost prestige - but Mt. Lebanon is merely representative of Pittsburgh's larger class anxiety. Different communities around the region are anxious about different facets of class status, of course; I'm not saying that every place is just like Mt. Lebanon, for ill or for good. My experience with the local blogosphere, however, has been that Pittsburghers as a whole are far better behaved as commenters at this blog -- Pittsblog -- than they have been on the whole either at Blog-Lebo or at Real Lebo. Class and status anxiety is a highly localized thing. In Mt. Lebanon, right now the focus of our class anxiety is the proposal to build a new high school. The two blogs are now dueling, among other things, in their positioning of arguments about what to do and how much to spend.
But the content of the arguments is matched by a duel over tone and style, and it is tone and style that really interest me this morning. Real Lebo has a post up titled Blogging is a Lot Like Hockey (the title is a bit of misdirection; blogging has nothing to do with forechecking and backchecking) that contrasts youth teams coached by screamers (this is bad) with youth teams coached by kind and gentle coaches (this is good). The point is that we all get to "choose" our teams. The implicit message is that Real Lebo posters, readers, commenters, and sympathists are in the second, "good" group, and that Blog Lebo posters, readers, commenters, and sympathists are in the first, "bad" group.
Again, for those of you who don't live in Mt. Lebanon, this is ridiculous and self-indulgent. But there is a lesson here for Pittsburgh, because it gives me a great excuse to mix metaphors and explain my own blogging philosophy -- which has nothing to do with Mt. Lebanon, because I don't blog there any longer -- and everything to do with Pittsblog and Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh, as I have written over and over, is endlessly anxious about its place in the world. And it suffers from an unfortunate lack of thoughtful critical assessment about what to do about that. Pittsblog is my little corner of the world of critical assessment. Sometimes, I write about cupcakes; sometimes I write about entrepreneurs; it's all about Pittsburgh's present and future identities.
Is blogging a team sport? No, it's really not. But there is a useful sporting analogy to play with. First, however, we have to toss out ice hockey and bring in my favorite sport, soccer. (No offense to hockey partisans, but Pittsblog readers know that it's not my sport.) The soccer/hockey difference is important only because my story is a soccer story. Yours may be a hockey story, or a basketball story, or something else.
I was a coach for recreational and travel soccer teams in the Mt. Lebanon Soccer Association for many years, both boys and girls. I also coached in Boston, where I lived before moving to Pittsburgh, and in Oakland, California before that. My coaching philosophy was consistent, and it was a philosophy that I learned from my own coach – my father: Never yell at the kids, especially during games. In fact, my father picked up that rule many, many years ago during my own playing career, when one of my teammates came over to him at halftime of a game and said, “We'd play better if you'd yell less.” We were, I think, about 12 years old. My father was a quick learner. He never raised his voice on the sideline again, and he preached that lesson in coaching seminars for decades afterward. He was so successful with that message, and with the rest of his coaching philosophy, that a local youth soccer league was named after him last Fall. Meanwhile, my teams won their share of championships under his leadership, including a California state club championship during my senior year in high school.
If you don't yell at the kids, they don't necessarily win more games. They learn more, but they still lose a lot. Many of the parents of the kids on my teams are still in town, and they can verify that my MLSA teams won some games and lost some games. Winning was never the point. The point was teaching love of the game. Lots of the kids that I coached stayed with soccer and played varsity soccer for Mt. Lebanon. The parents who expected to win a lot were, I think, occasionally disappointed with what I was doing. The parents who took the long view were, I think, mostly satisfied.
Even though you don't yell at the kids, as a coach you still challenge the kids. You have to. Whether on the field, in the classroom, or in the political arena, no one learns anything unless they are challenged; otherwise, it's all “you're wonderful, keep doing what you're doing, isn't this a great thing?” and what's the point of that? I pushed the kids: run harder, run faster, think about what you're doing with the ball. Keep the ball and challenge an opponent. Share the ball and go around the opponent. Find the space, fill the space. Attack. Challenge the other player with the ball. And above all – don't be afraid of the ball. These are often uncomfortable lessons. They aren't always easy lessons. The kids pushed back. Many of them thrived. Some of my former players are now playing college soccer. Some of them dropped away from the sport. Some have gone on to success in other sports. (One of the youngest and smallest girls on my first team now starts for Johns Hopkins in field hockey.) My kids tasted success, and they experienced defeat. Done right, coaching and playing youth sports offer the opportunity to teach the lesson that you don't always get what you want in life. But – and I have to say it – you get what you need.
Whether in Mt. Lebanon or in Pittsburgh, blogging, you might say, is a lot like coaching soccer. Push, challenge. The kids will push back, and some will fall away as many will thrive. Soccer isn't everyone's cup of tea. And don't step on the field if you're not ready to mix it up.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Cupcake Wars
Not here in Pittsburgh - yet - but down in Austin, Texas, the Cupcake Class is melting down. "Hey Cupcake," which is part of Austin's trailer-food scene, and which sells cupcakes from an Airstream trailer decorated with - you've got it - a giant cupcake, recently filed a lawsuit against a pastry pirate, in this case The Cupcake Camper of Noblesville, Indiana -- which does the same. (As I read Google Maps, Noblesville is just north of Indianapolis.)
Here's a link to a report about the lawsuit, which includes photos of the suspiciously similar cupcake trailers.
Copying the idea of selling cupcakes from an Airstream trailer decorated with a giant cupcake is only the beginning. The frosting on the pastry is this: "In addition to being accused of copying the exterior appearance of the trailer, the suit accuses The Cupcake Camper of beginning to sell t-shirts that say "Real Men Eat Cupcakes" after "Hey Cupcake began selling shirts that say "Real Men Love Cupcakes."
I'm not one to kick a cupcake baker when he's down, but in this case the lawsuit seems ... a little farfetched. Hey Cupcake! filed applications to register trademarks in both the configuration of the trailer and in the phrase "Real Men Eat Cupcakes!," but both applications have been abandoned last year after the U.S. Trademark Office issued initial responses suggesting that neither had been shown to be "distinctive," as required by federal trademark law. For the time being, that leaves Hey Cupcake! with common law trademark rights, which generally are limited to the geographic territory where the goods (or services) are being marketed. In this case, it's not impossible to show that the central Texas cupcake marketplace overlaps with the Indianapolis cupcake marketplace. But it strikes me as a stretch, especially when the services are cupcakes being sold from a trailer. Sure, trailers move around. But has Hey Cupcake! ever taken its trailer on the road, so to speak?
More important, could it happen here? Pittsburgh's Cupcake Class could use cupcakes-from-a-trailer.
Here's a link to a report about the lawsuit, which includes photos of the suspiciously similar cupcake trailers.
Copying the idea of selling cupcakes from an Airstream trailer decorated with a giant cupcake is only the beginning. The frosting on the pastry is this: "In addition to being accused of copying the exterior appearance of the trailer, the suit accuses The Cupcake Camper of beginning to sell t-shirts that say "Real Men Eat Cupcakes" after "Hey Cupcake began selling shirts that say "Real Men Love Cupcakes."
I'm not one to kick a cupcake baker when he's down, but in this case the lawsuit seems ... a little farfetched. Hey Cupcake! filed applications to register trademarks in both the configuration of the trailer and in the phrase "Real Men Eat Cupcakes!," but both applications have been abandoned last year after the U.S. Trademark Office issued initial responses suggesting that neither had been shown to be "distinctive," as required by federal trademark law. For the time being, that leaves Hey Cupcake! with common law trademark rights, which generally are limited to the geographic territory where the goods (or services) are being marketed. In this case, it's not impossible to show that the central Texas cupcake marketplace overlaps with the Indianapolis cupcake marketplace. But it strikes me as a stretch, especially when the services are cupcakes being sold from a trailer. Sure, trailers move around. But has Hey Cupcake! ever taken its trailer on the road, so to speak?
More important, could it happen here? Pittsburgh's Cupcake Class could use cupcakes-from-a-trailer.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Pittsburgh's PSO as a Measure of the City
Lots and lots of Pittsburghers are accustomed to the measure of the city (even the measure of the region) being taken according to the fortunes of its professional sports teams. The Steelers - the apotheosis of sporting integrity, as a business and usually on the field. The Penguins - getting better all the time, with beloved ownership, an unexpected championship, and a new home facility on the way. The Pirates - the best modern stadium in the major leagues; a facility done right.
But a case could be made, and a good one, that Pittsburgh's arts institutions are the better lens for understanding the city's true ambitions, successes - and failures - if only because Pittsburgh's arts communities here are somewhat more thick-skinned than their sporting counterparts.
Many music lovers in Pittsburgh, for example, noticed the New York Times review of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra's recent performance at Carnegie Hall: " all-out, intense and often beautiful music making."
Anthony Tommasini's review went on to offer some muted criticisms of the PSO's overall approach to its repertoire these days, and those criticisms were picked up by Andrew Druckenbrod at the Post-Gazette. Far from bemoaning the Times's finger-wagging, the Post-Gazette music critic offered what I thought was an appraisal of both the criticism and the PSO that was unusually balanced, coming from the hometown team:
What I particularly liked here was that this commentary was just about completely free of the entitlement anxiety that Pittsburgh's media and its residents so often display. Pittsburgh is a small city that's getting smaller, yet there is a Sally Field "You really like me!" mentality here, combining gratitude for recognition that we can't be sure is coming with relief that we still matter, that pops up all too frequently. To be sure, the PSO is a great institution ... but it is not entitled to a place on the national stage simply by virtue of its pedigree, let alone by virtue of its being located in this great city. Year in and year out, the organization has to prove itself worthy.
I don't read or hear that in Pittsburgh often enough.
But a case could be made, and a good one, that Pittsburgh's arts institutions are the better lens for understanding the city's true ambitions, successes - and failures - if only because Pittsburgh's arts communities here are somewhat more thick-skinned than their sporting counterparts.
Many music lovers in Pittsburgh, for example, noticed the New York Times review of the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra's recent performance at Carnegie Hall: " all-out, intense and often beautiful music making."
Anthony Tommasini's review went on to offer some muted criticisms of the PSO's overall approach to its repertoire these days, and those criticisms were picked up by Andrew Druckenbrod at the Post-Gazette. Far from bemoaning the Times's finger-wagging, the Post-Gazette music critic offered what I thought was an appraisal of both the criticism and the PSO that was unusually balanced, coming from the hometown team:
Mr. Tommasini's institutional criticism cannot be easily rebutted. While the PSO is a cultural leader in Pittsburgh and advocates for the region internationally, it does lag behind other top orchestras in new music and audience engagement efforts. ...(The conversation continued here, at the Classical Musings blog.)
I think the PSO could offer more innovative programming and outreach, and certainly more contemporary music. But it is early in Mr. Honeck's tenure and -- this is crucial -- it is a precarious time in the history of arts nonprofits.
It's hard to knock the orchestra for programming Beethoven and Mahler symphony cycles and Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky festivals when these composers are known entities at the box office as well as masterpieces of the repertoire. On the other hand, risk taking is important in times of crisis. ...
If the Times' critique was not the stunningly positive and unconditionally validating review the orchestra and Mr. Honeck hoped for, it is no small thing that their new partnership now is part of the national conversation. And the best way to persuade that nation further is to continue to perform at a high level.
What I particularly liked here was that this commentary was just about completely free of the entitlement anxiety that Pittsburgh's media and its residents so often display. Pittsburgh is a small city that's getting smaller, yet there is a Sally Field "You really like me!" mentality here, combining gratitude for recognition that we can't be sure is coming with relief that we still matter, that pops up all too frequently. To be sure, the PSO is a great institution ... but it is not entitled to a place on the national stage simply by virtue of its pedigree, let alone by virtue of its being located in this great city. Year in and year out, the organization has to prove itself worthy.
I don't read or hear that in Pittsburgh often enough.
Yinzer Games, not Yinzerlympics
I was amused by Brian O'Neill's PG column this morning about the Yinzerlympics and even more amused when I read Kevin Gorman's Trib column, featuring the same idea last Thursday.
Meanwhile, the person behind the Yinzerlympics meme has already set up a website (here) and a Cafe Press site to hawk Yinzerlympics schwag (here). How long do you think it will take the killjoys at the U.S. Olympic Committee to come down on this business (now that it is a business) like a ton of bricks? Our wise Congress has given the USOC the exclusive right to use the word "Olympic" and the five-interlocking ring Olympic symbol "or any combination or simulation thereof tending to cause confusion, to cause mistake, to deceive, or to falsely suggest a connection with the corporation of any Olympic activity." That's from title 36 of the U.S. Code, section 380. And it may not matter to the USOC that Yinzerlympics doesn't use the full "Olympics" title or the actual Olympics rings, that there are no real Yinzerlympics, or that the whole thing is just a silly way to spend a time waiting for the snow to melt.
Yinzer Games (Gorman's lede) should be fine, just as "Gay Games" is fine while "Gay Olympics" is not.
And while we're thinking about the Yinzer Games, let's think about the *summer* games. Thoughts on what events should be included? I'm particularly interested what might be included in the Yinzer Decathlon and the Yinzer Modern Pentathlon.
Meanwhile, the person behind the Yinzerlympics meme has already set up a website (here) and a Cafe Press site to hawk Yinzerlympics schwag (here). How long do you think it will take the killjoys at the U.S. Olympic Committee to come down on this business (now that it is a business) like a ton of bricks? Our wise Congress has given the USOC the exclusive right to use the word "Olympic" and the five-interlocking ring Olympic symbol "or any combination or simulation thereof tending to cause confusion, to cause mistake, to deceive, or to falsely suggest a connection with the corporation of any Olympic activity." That's from title 36 of the U.S. Code, section 380. And it may not matter to the USOC that Yinzerlympics doesn't use the full "Olympics" title or the actual Olympics rings, that there are no real Yinzerlympics, or that the whole thing is just a silly way to spend a time waiting for the snow to melt.
Yinzer Games (Gorman's lede) should be fine, just as "Gay Games" is fine while "Gay Olympics" is not.
And while we're thinking about the Yinzer Games, let's think about the *summer* games. Thoughts on what events should be included? I'm particularly interested what might be included in the Yinzer Decathlon and the Yinzer Modern Pentathlon.
You Say Macarons, I Say Macaroons, Let's Call the Whole Thing Off
I may have been premature yesterday suggesting that the Macaroon Class may threaten the hegemony of Pittsburgh's Cupcake Class. The NPR story that prompted this little éclat apparently failed sufficiently to distinguish macaroons, which are the light coconut cookies that keep places like the Duquesne Club in business, from macarons (note the modestly different spelling), which are the French confections that are in fact driving the cupcake craze into the proverbial ditch. Wikipedia offers a discussion here; a trendier but more refined discussion is found at Serious Eats. Now that you can buy upscale cupcakes from a truck roving the streets of New York, macarons appear to be the Next Big (but Small) Food Thing.
Are there macarons to be found in Pittsburgh? Is the Cupcake Class still sleeping soundly?
Apologies, meanwhile, to any Pittsburgher who was misled by the suggestion that the Duquesne Club might become hip.
Are there macarons to be found in Pittsburgh? Is the Cupcake Class still sleeping soundly?
Apologies, meanwhile, to any Pittsburgher who was misled by the suggestion that the Duquesne Club might become hip.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Macaroons: The New Cupcakes?
NPR reported today that macaroons are the new cupcakes. If that's true, then Pittsburgh's Cupcake Class should be quaking in its (UGG) boots. Pittsburgh already has not one but two established Macaroon Classes -- one that has haunted the Duquesne Club for decades, and one that prefers the oh-so-tasty macaroons at Enrico Biscotti, in the Strip.
Cupcakes, in other words, may turn out to be 21st century tulips.
Cupcakes, in other words, may turn out to be 21st century tulips.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
The Parking Chair Thing
Snow this week has brought out the parking chair commentariat, from Chris B. (now creator of a Pittsburgh Parking Chair page on Wikipedia) to the Post-Gazette. They're talking chairs in Baltimore and Philadephia, too.
I understand the intuition that drives people to claim "their" parking spaces. I put "their" in quotation marks, of course, because there is nothing "their" about them - the parking spaces are on public streets. There is an interesting and increasingly lively debate among economists and property theorists about whether parking-chairs-in-cleared-parking-spots amount to a legitimate form of limited, customary, property right.
The argument goes something like this:
Pro-chair (and another essay that is especially pro-chair): I cleared the spot; therefore I own the spot. And if I didn't own the spot after I cleared it, then I wouldn't have an adequate incentive to clear the spot. Moreover, the community benefits from my clearing the spot, because that's one less spot that public authorities will have to clear. And long-time community acceptance of the tradition shows that it is welfare-promoting. The pro-chair argument is simple and straightforward.
Anti-chair (that's a small-ish Facebook group) (and chair-skeptic): The anti-chair argument is long and complicated. The idea that "I built it, therefore I own it" has a sophisticated but problematic pedigree in the philosophy of John Locke. For the most part, American property law rejects Locke as a justification for property rights schemes, even informal ones. (The fact that parking spaces occupy technically "public" property is relevant but not dispositive. I can't cut down a diseased tree in Schenley Park, put a fence around the clearing, and claim that the land inside is "mine." But I can't do the same thing on my neighbor's land, either.) No one needs the incentive of ownership here to clear out parking spots; mostly, people are clearing out their own cars, which they would do anyway. "Ownership" of the spot is a kind of cherry on top of the sundae - a bonus for doing your family duty. The community suffers from parking chair claims, because people who need places to park are foreclosed from a number of possible options. The strongest argument against the chairs is that enforcement of the parking chair regime is carried out mostly by self-help, which means various forms of vandalism. A lot of people are uncomfortable with that, whether or not the local community thinks that it's OK. The pro-chair folks tend to assume that it's the *other guy's* car that gets keyed, or loses its side-view mirror, or is covered with ice. Community acceptance of the tradition doesn't show that it's welfare-promoting; instead, it shows that the community is willing to internalize the benefits and externalize the costs of private enforcement.
There is no answer in this debate. The problem is that the parking chair phenomenon has been around for so long that no one is really sure what would happen if parking chairs *weren't* allowed. Maybe everyone would clear their spots anyway, and everyone would have places to park when they come back from work or running errands. Maybe no one would clear their spots, hoarding parking spaces out of fear that they wouldn't have a place to park after work or running errands. Maybe the population of the neighborhood would turn over rapidly enough that no one remembers that the place has to follow the same rules that were in effect decades ago.
Maybe the streets would be cleared, and everyone would take the bus.
Despite the fact that the parking chair phenomenon is not unique to Pittsburgh, I've always thought that it speaks an essential truth about the region: A lot of Pittsburghers would choose to dig a giant hole and sit in it over clearing a path of parking spaces that helps other people get moving again.
I understand the intuition that drives people to claim "their" parking spaces. I put "their" in quotation marks, of course, because there is nothing "their" about them - the parking spaces are on public streets. There is an interesting and increasingly lively debate among economists and property theorists about whether parking-chairs-in-cleared-parking-spots amount to a legitimate form of limited, customary, property right.
The argument goes something like this:
Pro-chair (and another essay that is especially pro-chair): I cleared the spot; therefore I own the spot. And if I didn't own the spot after I cleared it, then I wouldn't have an adequate incentive to clear the spot. Moreover, the community benefits from my clearing the spot, because that's one less spot that public authorities will have to clear. And long-time community acceptance of the tradition shows that it is welfare-promoting. The pro-chair argument is simple and straightforward.
Anti-chair (that's a small-ish Facebook group) (and chair-skeptic): The anti-chair argument is long and complicated. The idea that "I built it, therefore I own it" has a sophisticated but problematic pedigree in the philosophy of John Locke. For the most part, American property law rejects Locke as a justification for property rights schemes, even informal ones. (The fact that parking spaces occupy technically "public" property is relevant but not dispositive. I can't cut down a diseased tree in Schenley Park, put a fence around the clearing, and claim that the land inside is "mine." But I can't do the same thing on my neighbor's land, either.) No one needs the incentive of ownership here to clear out parking spots; mostly, people are clearing out their own cars, which they would do anyway. "Ownership" of the spot is a kind of cherry on top of the sundae - a bonus for doing your family duty. The community suffers from parking chair claims, because people who need places to park are foreclosed from a number of possible options. The strongest argument against the chairs is that enforcement of the parking chair regime is carried out mostly by self-help, which means various forms of vandalism. A lot of people are uncomfortable with that, whether or not the local community thinks that it's OK. The pro-chair folks tend to assume that it's the *other guy's* car that gets keyed, or loses its side-view mirror, or is covered with ice. Community acceptance of the tradition doesn't show that it's welfare-promoting; instead, it shows that the community is willing to internalize the benefits and externalize the costs of private enforcement.
There is no answer in this debate. The problem is that the parking chair phenomenon has been around for so long that no one is really sure what would happen if parking chairs *weren't* allowed. Maybe everyone would clear their spots anyway, and everyone would have places to park when they come back from work or running errands. Maybe no one would clear their spots, hoarding parking spaces out of fear that they wouldn't have a place to park after work or running errands. Maybe the population of the neighborhood would turn over rapidly enough that no one remembers that the place has to follow the same rules that were in effect decades ago.
Maybe the streets would be cleared, and everyone would take the bus.
Despite the fact that the parking chair phenomenon is not unique to Pittsburgh, I've always thought that it speaks an essential truth about the region: A lot of Pittsburghers would choose to dig a giant hole and sit in it over clearing a path of parking spaces that helps other people get moving again.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
My Turn, Again: Pittsburgh's Needs
'Tis a week of lists. This time, it's Pop City's New Girl endorsing a list of What Pittsburgh Needs, as contributed by her readers. There are some hits and some misses here, plus some missing elephants in the room.
The Pop City list, below:
Food carts. Food carts thrive where there is dense foot traffic. In Pittsburgh? It's not dense enough in most neighborhoods - except Oakland, where there are great carts (well, not always carts) on days when the weather is tolerable. Downtown is already teeming with places to eat.
Taxis. This is just a supply and demand problem. Is it hard to find a taxi in Pittsburgh if you aren't at the airport or at a downtown hotel? Sure. That's no surprise - demand elsewhere is intermittent - and more taxis wouldn't help. (You could add hundreds more taxis in New York City, and they would still cluster at the airports and Midtown.) Taxi drivers make little enough money as it is. *Sensible* reconfiguration of Pittsburgh's public transportation system would be a better all around.
"Mo betta jazz." Bring back Pittsburgh's jazz scene - that's a winner of an idea, for sure. But how about greater PR and support for the fantastic musicians that Pittsburgh currently has?
Awareness of our rivers. Another winner. I've been in Pittsburgh just long enough to recognize how far this community has already come on this score. You think that Pittsburgh doesn't do enough to treat the rivers as community resources? You should have been here 12 years ago! Always, more is better. But may the rivers remain working rivers, too.
PIT as a hub. Well, hmmm. It's a utopian fantasy. Problem one is the cost structure of the airport. Problem two is the economics of the airline business. Don't look for this to change any time soon. Plus, adding a Primanti's at the airport (suggested in the PC story) might actually drive traffic away. Here's a tip: Some Pittsburghers, and many expat Pittsburghers, love fries and slaw in the sandwich. Other people? Not so much.
Fewer municipalities. My inner urban planner says yes. Then I look at the prospects for, say, Mt. Lebanon merging with Castle Shannon, Greentree, and Dormont. Ha. (As if the latter three towns would want to have Mt. Lebo and its problems!)
Home energy independence. This is awesome. Seriously. Who'll pay for it?
My additions - mostly larger, "elephant"-size:
Build a back-end to the Pittsburgh Promise. All those kids with PP-supplied college tuition? When they're graduates, give them low-interest loans to start businesses in the region.
The business community and local government should stop preaching to the local business choir ("Isn't Downtown Such a Wonderful Place?") and make meaningful and public efforts to bring people to the region from outside Pittsburgh. Move here, please! Re-invest in Pittsburgh's sister cities program (here's the list, including what I believe is the newest: Danang). Promote a "sister city of the month" campaign in the region that features business, arts, culture, and citizens of our urban buddies. Study how other post-industrial cities have attracted immigrants in the last 40 years. Bring more fresh eyes and fresh voices to Pittsburgh -- the New Girl herself being Exhibit A of that sort of thing.
Stop! Stop patting ourselves on the back for our wonderful quality of life, our wonderful sports teams, our low cost of living, our "renaissance," our "livability," and so on. Sure, there are a lot of things to like and enjoy about Pittsburgh, but it's no Shangri-La. Out in Braddock today, there's a lot of anger and sadness. And Braddock is just today's example. Tomorrow, it's PNC Park.
Build a real estate tax system that creates incentives to clean up and redevelop all of the abandoned and vacant parcels in Allegheny County.
End the Democratic Party machine's stranglehold on local politics.
Add "sustainabile urban agriculture" to "energy independence" as part of the region's green strategy.
That's enough for now.
The Pop City list, below:
Food carts. Food carts thrive where there is dense foot traffic. In Pittsburgh? It's not dense enough in most neighborhoods - except Oakland, where there are great carts (well, not always carts) on days when the weather is tolerable. Downtown is already teeming with places to eat.
Taxis. This is just a supply and demand problem. Is it hard to find a taxi in Pittsburgh if you aren't at the airport or at a downtown hotel? Sure. That's no surprise - demand elsewhere is intermittent - and more taxis wouldn't help. (You could add hundreds more taxis in New York City, and they would still cluster at the airports and Midtown.) Taxi drivers make little enough money as it is. *Sensible* reconfiguration of Pittsburgh's public transportation system would be a better all around.
"Mo betta jazz." Bring back Pittsburgh's jazz scene - that's a winner of an idea, for sure. But how about greater PR and support for the fantastic musicians that Pittsburgh currently has?
Awareness of our rivers. Another winner. I've been in Pittsburgh just long enough to recognize how far this community has already come on this score. You think that Pittsburgh doesn't do enough to treat the rivers as community resources? You should have been here 12 years ago! Always, more is better. But may the rivers remain working rivers, too.
PIT as a hub. Well, hmmm. It's a utopian fantasy. Problem one is the cost structure of the airport. Problem two is the economics of the airline business. Don't look for this to change any time soon. Plus, adding a Primanti's at the airport (suggested in the PC story) might actually drive traffic away. Here's a tip: Some Pittsburghers, and many expat Pittsburghers, love fries and slaw in the sandwich. Other people? Not so much.
Fewer municipalities. My inner urban planner says yes. Then I look at the prospects for, say, Mt. Lebanon merging with Castle Shannon, Greentree, and Dormont. Ha. (As if the latter three towns would want to have Mt. Lebo and its problems!)
Home energy independence. This is awesome. Seriously. Who'll pay for it?
My additions - mostly larger, "elephant"-size:
Build a back-end to the Pittsburgh Promise. All those kids with PP-supplied college tuition? When they're graduates, give them low-interest loans to start businesses in the region.
The business community and local government should stop preaching to the local business choir ("Isn't Downtown Such a Wonderful Place?") and make meaningful and public efforts to bring people to the region from outside Pittsburgh. Move here, please! Re-invest in Pittsburgh's sister cities program (here's the list, including what I believe is the newest: Danang). Promote a "sister city of the month" campaign in the region that features business, arts, culture, and citizens of our urban buddies. Study how other post-industrial cities have attracted immigrants in the last 40 years. Bring more fresh eyes and fresh voices to Pittsburgh -- the New Girl herself being Exhibit A of that sort of thing.
Stop! Stop patting ourselves on the back for our wonderful quality of life, our wonderful sports teams, our low cost of living, our "renaissance," our "livability," and so on. Sure, there are a lot of things to like and enjoy about Pittsburgh, but it's no Shangri-La. Out in Braddock today, there's a lot of anger and sadness. And Braddock is just today's example. Tomorrow, it's PNC Park.
Build a real estate tax system that creates incentives to clean up and redevelop all of the abandoned and vacant parcels in Allegheny County.
End the Democratic Party machine's stranglehold on local politics.
Add "sustainabile urban agriculture" to "energy independence" as part of the region's green strategy.
That's enough for now.
Monday, February 01, 2010
The Borings Get Back
The most Boring couple in Pittsburgh, folks who objected to Google's Street View project when the Google vehicle drove up the Borings' driveway, have won an appeal of a local judgment that dismissed their privacy and trespass lawsuit. But their grounds for victory are so narrow that it will be interesting to what, if anything, the Borings may get in the end.
See an earlier Pittsblog note about the Borings' case here, in which I expressed skepticism about the merits of their case after it was dismissed at the trial court level. On appeal, the Third Circuit mostly agreed: none of the case has any possible merit, except the trespass claim - and as to that claim, it's hard to see how the Borings' damages would amount to much. Often, trespass cases involve requests for injunctions - but Google has already left the property - or claims that the value of the property has been reduced by some amount - which hasn't happened, as far as I can tell. The case feels more like something different -- "trespass to chattels," in which the defendant temporarily dispossesses you of some object, then returns it to you -- except that it involves land.
The court's opinion is here.
See an earlier Pittsblog note about the Borings' case here, in which I expressed skepticism about the merits of their case after it was dismissed at the trial court level. On appeal, the Third Circuit mostly agreed: none of the case has any possible merit, except the trespass claim - and as to that claim, it's hard to see how the Borings' damages would amount to much. Often, trespass cases involve requests for injunctions - but Google has already left the property - or claims that the value of the property has been reduced by some amount - which hasn't happened, as far as I can tell. The case feels more like something different -- "trespass to chattels," in which the defendant temporarily dispossesses you of some object, then returns it to you -- except that it involves land.
The court's opinion is here.
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