There was a time when I was a kid that editorials in the Daily News had all of the excitement level of a bucket of wallpaper paste.
But over the last few years, the News' editorials have become more local --- exactly as a local newspaper's editorials should be --- and more willing to take sides and argue positions. They've become one of the first things I read (after I check the obituaries to see if my name is there).
Last night's leader, "It's Time To Pull The Plug," is typical of the quality (I was also going to say "spunk," but like Lou Grant, I hate "spunk"), and I found myself saying "amen" at the end:
There is an old saying, "the surgery was a success, but the patient died." That doesn't quite describe Duquesne City School District's 2006-07 budget, but it comes close. ...
Even if millage stays at 21.1, it's cold comfort when one sees the cutting of seven teaching and 12 support staff jobs ...
We realize the pride that goes with having local schools. We remember the angst in such towns as Homestead and Munhall during the school mergers of a generation ago.
But there comes a time when the life support has gone too long and pulling the plug is a foregone conclusion. That time has come for Duquesne City School District.
And -- the worst news of all -- Rolling Rock is leaving Latrobe. InBev, RR's corporate owner, is selling the brand to Anheuser-Busch. The hard working folks in Latrobe say that they're going to hold their breath until IB and AB change their minds.
As mentioned yesterday, last week I was in Dayton, Ohio, for "Hamvention," and because good hotel rooms in the city are damned near impossible to find at any price during that annual international geek-out, I usually wind up staying in one of the neighboring communities. (Last year was an exception --- I had a room in downtown Dayton for the first, and last, time.)
I try to pick a different town to stay in every year, and this time, I chose Piqua (pronounced "pik-WAH"), about a half-hour north of Dayton, primarily because they had a street fair on Friday night, and I figured it would be a cheap way to kill an evening. It was.
Among other things, I got to walk through some of the restored buildings downtown, which have been reconstructed through a partnership between the city and local business owners called "Mainstreet Piqua Inc." Parts of the downtown area are still pretty seedy, but building by building, the main streets are starting to come back. The "before and after" pictures on display were startling.
The next project the city plans to tackle is the Fort Piqua Hotel, a big old gothic five-story pile of a building right at one of the city's major intersections. Right now, it's boarded up and deteriorating, having been mostly vacant for nearly 20 years, but the city envisions it as the new home of the public library, commercial offices and stores.
They also want to restore the hotel ballroom for use by community groups, and I suppose for weddings and other occasions. Having seen the other successes in Piqua, I have no doubt they'll make it happen.
. . .
I couldn't help but think of the Penn-McKee Hotel when I looked at the Fort Piqua Hotel. The Penn-McKee is about 40 years newer, in the same or better physical condition as the Fort Piqua, and perhaps even more eminently developable --- for one thing, unlike the Fort Piqua, it's got plenty of parking nearby. It also has the Palisades and the McKees Point Marina to generate traffic. Why is there no community plan for saving this asset?
Or what about the old Eagles on Market Street, currently slated for demolition --- and which has just been named one of the most endangered local landmarks by a group of historic preservationists?
If we tear down the Eagles --- a mansion built in the 1880s --- what's going to take its place? Another weedy vacant lot, like the one where the Memorial Theater once stood. That lot at the corner of Market and Fifth has been "available for development" for more than 20 years now.
. . .
Meanwhile, back at the Piqua "Taste of the Arts" street fair, young and old, black and white, were gathered Friday night to eat, shop and listen to music. Little kids drew pictures on the sidewalks with chalk, teen-agers huddled in doorways and made out, young couples pushed babies in strollers.
At one of the street, a Frank Sinatra impersonator was holding court, backed by a big band combo. At the other, a folk guitarist was improvising songs to the amusement of the bystanders. Parking was almost impossible; Piqua has about 20,000 residents, and it seemed like half of them were downtown.
As I munched an ice-cream cone, I couldn't help but wonder why groups like the Mon-Yough Chamber of Commerce (excuse me, the "Regional Business Alliance"), the Downtown McKeesport Association, and others aren't working in a public-private partnership similar to Mainstreet Piqua.
. . .
As far as I can tell, many of our regional business leaders scraped McKeesport from their feet several years ago and haven't looked back. Despite McKeesport's location at the center of the Mon Valley, their world revolves around the strip malls and sprawl of White Oak and West Mifflin. More's the pity.
Oh, sure, there are "events" staged in the city from time to time, like the "Salute to Santa" parade, or the annual Good Neighbor Fair on Fifth Avenue, but there's no long-term community effort to plan the city's future, and then carry out that plan.
How come Piqua can work together on development, and we can't?
Piqua's population is only a few thousand less than Our Fair City's. A major employer, Aerovent Corp., left town several years ago. Piqua has several big shopping malls on its outskirts which undoubtedly hurt its downtown business district, and it's near Cincinnati and Columbus, which have probably drained some of its young people away.
Sure, being out in the country, Piqua doesn't have the kind of urban problems (absentee landlords, for instance) that Mon Valley cities have, but it also isn't part of a major metropolitan area, nor does it have anything like the suburban population base around McKeesport. It also doesn't have things like a symphony orchestra, a major regional library and city park, and civic institutions like the YMCA.
In other words, McKeesport has bigger challenges than Piqua --- but it also has bigger opportunities.
. . .
If a private-public partnership can rebuild downtown Piqua, nothing should be stopping us in McKeesport. It would be nice to see some real bricks-and-mortar action out of our regional chambers of commerce and business associations.
Luncheons are nice, but seeing some positive redevelopment activity would be nicer in the long term.
After all, if we got some decent restaurants open downtown, along with some retail activity, working-class residential housing, and some nightlife, I could buy my own damned lunch.
Last week, I made my annual pilgrimage to Hamvention in Dayton, Ohio, which is to amateur radio buffs what Woodstock was to rock fans --- a chance for a very large group of people to act in unsanitary and anti-social ways.
Er, let me try again.
Hamvention is advertised as the world's largest amateur radio trade show and convention, and I have no reason to doubt that. Practically every major international electronics hobby company in the world (Kenwood, Icom, Alinco) has an exhibit, while many government and public-service groups (the Red Cross, the Salvation Army, the National Weather Service) put on demonstrations. High-tech companies show up to recruit personnel as well.
Outside, there's an enormous radio and computer flea market that has to be seen to be believed --- everything from 1920s handmade radio sets to World War II spy gear to brand new satellite receivers are on sale.
But it does attract a certain odd element. And while I could mock that element, these guys are doing a much better job, frankly. (Warning: Some content marginally not safe for work.)
I also paid social calls on WMKV-FM (89.3), a non-commercial station outside of Cincinnati that's operated by a retirement community, and which has a library of more than 100,000 big band and jazz records; and WULM (1600), located in Springfield, about a half-hour east of Dayton, which is rather unique in being an oldies station owned and operated by a church.
More about them, perhaps, another time. But if you like big band music, or oldies, both stations are streaming.
...
One thing we have that Western Ohio doesn't seem to have --- other than hills and mountains --- are local breweries.
In most bars in this region, you have a choice of four brands of beer brewed within easy driving distance --- Iron City, Penn Pilsner, Stoney's and Rolling Rock --- and at least two more if you count Erie (Erie Brewing Co.) and St. Mary's (Straub) as part of Western Pennsylvania.
(OK, some of Penn Pilsner's product is brewed under contract in Maryland, and Stoney's is now made at Pittsburgh Brewing, not in Smithton. But they're still separately owned, with distinct brands and tastes, for better or worse.)
There are no regional breweries in Ohio, unless you count the old Hudepohl-Schoenling Brewing Co. in Cincinnati, now owned by the makers of Samuel Adams beer, though there are some brewpubs and microbreweries around.
At the local watering hole in Piqua, Ohio, where I ate dinner Friday night, the only beer on tap was Blue Moon --- a Coors product --- and most people were drinking either Miller Lite or Michelob.
I guess those are kind of local products for Western Ohio, since Miller and Anheuser-Busch operate plants in Trenton and Columbus, respectively. Still, it's kind of a sad state of affairs when an area settled by the Germans, the Scots and the English doesn't have a beer it can call its own.
What a shock it was to come home and find out that Latrobe Brewing Co. is in danger of closing, and that the "Rolling Rock" brand name is being sold to Anheuser-Busch. You might as well move the Steelers to Portland, Oregon, and replace the Cathedral of Learning with a Jiffy Lube.
...
For the life of me, I can't figure out what advantage this offers Anheuser-Busch. Rolling Rock has developed a national following, but (no offense, Rock drinkers) it doesn't taste that much different from any other good American pilsner beer.
I suspect much of the devotion to Rolling Rock has to do with the "romance" of it being brewed in Latrobe, Pa. Take Rolling Rock out of Latrobe, and it becomes just another beer --- better than some, maybe, but not very distinct.
I have a feeling that if (when) this sale goes through, Rolling Rock is going to be quickly lost amid Anheuser-Busch's other brands, and will fade away like Schmidt's, Rheingold, Hamm's and dozens of other once noteworthy regional beers that are now discount brands owned by big companies.
In my experience, Rolling Rock's most devoted partisans are Westmoreland County residents who have always viewed the beer as their "hometown product," along with displaced Pittsburghers, who enjoy feeling a connection to the area. If Rolling Rock isn't brewed in Western Pennsylvania any more, what reason do they have to choose it over Yuengling --- or Miller, for that matter? (I'm a Straub man, myself.)
Barring a last minute reprieve, I suspect that Rolling Rock sales are going to tank (no pun intended) throughout Western Pennsylvania, and the beer will be on the slow slide to oblivion.
If that happens, Rolling Rock fans will have plenty of people with whom to commiserate: Former drinkers of Tube City, Fort Pitt and Duquesne will feel your pain.