HOORAY
People who know any of the college campuses in Pittsburgh are familiar with the guy who sells books out of cut-up iMac boxes every month or every few weeks. All of his signs are handmade and he takes all of the huge boxes with him on the bus, for goodness' sake. Emily and I have seen him sleeping in the entryway to Baker Hall, a pile of newspapers under his head. Apparently he also takes catnaps at the library. Eli has said that he thinks all of the books are rescued from dumpsters or libraries, but it's hard to say. Anyway, today I bought a copy of The World According to Garp, The Complete Stories of Colette, Live or Die, and The Sirens of Titan. The following note was in the back cover of the latter: "Love - pp. 159-63, 213-14; S Stephenson - 203; PHARISEE - 239; The Stone - 123; The Pain - 125; SALO'S FIRST APPEARANCE - 138; IRONY - 164; Hooray - 178.
This makes me want to document the characters of Pittsburgh, and there are a few. Book guy is one of my favorites. It's the constant appearance of people and things like this that made me want to live in a city in the first place. I guess the rhythm of surprising things in the country is a lot more laidback than it is here, for obvious reasons. Sometimes there are genuine surprises: half of a robin's egg, wild roses growing over a hammer in front of the toolshed, foxes, floods, a piece of magnetic tape from a Cyndi Lauper cassette strewn over a quarter-mile and up a hill. But I like the possibility for these things in Pittsburgh a lot more. A few of the things I've found or seen in the last month or so: a muddy pair of children's mittens tacked to a telephone pole across from the 61C, pink paper hearts in the CFA building, a photocopy of a cartoon dog next to the copiers in the library, an apartment building in Squirrel Hill with the lights in the rooms facing the street forming an X.
People who know any of the college campuses in Pittsburgh are familiar with the guy who sells books out of cut-up iMac boxes every month or every few weeks. All of his signs are handmade and he takes all of the huge boxes with him on the bus, for goodness' sake. Emily and I have seen him sleeping in the entryway to Baker Hall, a pile of newspapers under his head. Apparently he also takes catnaps at the library. Eli has said that he thinks all of the books are rescued from dumpsters or libraries, but it's hard to say. Anyway, today I bought a copy of The World According to Garp, The Complete Stories of Colette, Live or Die, and The Sirens of Titan. The following note was in the back cover of the latter: "Love - pp. 159-63, 213-14; S Stephenson - 203; PHARISEE - 239; The Stone - 123; The Pain - 125; SALO'S FIRST APPEARANCE - 138; IRONY - 164; Hooray - 178.
This makes me want to document the characters of Pittsburgh, and there are a few. Book guy is one of my favorites. It's the constant appearance of people and things like this that made me want to live in a city in the first place. I guess the rhythm of surprising things in the country is a lot more laidback than it is here, for obvious reasons. Sometimes there are genuine surprises: half of a robin's egg, wild roses growing over a hammer in front of the toolshed, foxes, floods, a piece of magnetic tape from a Cyndi Lauper cassette strewn over a quarter-mile and up a hill. But I like the possibility for these things in Pittsburgh a lot more. A few of the things I've found or seen in the last month or so: a muddy pair of children's mittens tacked to a telephone pole across from the 61C, pink paper hearts in the CFA building, a photocopy of a cartoon dog next to the copiers in the library, an apartment building in Squirrel Hill with the lights in the rooms facing the street forming an X.
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