Why the Winter Carnival Queen Should Abdicate

Dear trout:

I am sympathetic to the Occupy Pottsville movement. However what gives with your demand that the Winter Carnival Queen abdicate her throne? I never saw such anger since the Shah of Iran was deposed or when the Maroons football championship title was revoked.

Royal Watcher

Dear Royal Watcher:

Neither the Winter Carnival Queen, nor the snowflake princesses, nor the snowdrop junior princesses represents county womenhood anymore. Sadly, the Queen has lost touch with reality. Why, you ask? First of all, if you follow the contest show me one obese contestant. I knew it. You can’t. Not one. Nada. Zippo.

What kind of message is this sending to the young plump girls who, right now, as you read this, are sitting on sofas, eating family-sized bags of barbecued Marsden potato chips and drinking liter bottles of mountain dew while watching Jersey Shore on TV and simultaneously chatting away on facebook and Myspace…telling the world what they like and dislike about Snookie? Don’t we owe them something for this multi=tasking?

Last summer at a Tuesday evening JFK Pool splash party, I stood up on a picnic table at the concession stand, trying my best to organize some of the heftiest middle-school girls to put down the family-sized bags of barbequed Marsden potato chips for at least an hour. I wanted them to rise up and overthrow the royal court. I gave a rally cry to storm the Winter Palace (which incidentally serves as the Catholic War Veterans Post during the off-winter month) but no one listened to me. In fact they were rather rude and told me to put down the bull horn and get off the table or they would smash the royal jewels and throw me over the fence.

Secondly, no contestant have been permitted to appear in the pageant wearing low-cut tank tops with short torn boxer shorts with the word “juicy” or “lager” on the backside with revealing, brightly colored thongs. Again, the Winter Carnival Committee is living in la-la land. They just don’t seem to get it anymore. They don’t seem to realize that many of our county’s shallow, materialistic young girls spend lots of money on these over-priced small pieces of threads, woven in third world countries which are passed off as “clothing” to the consumers who desire to express themselves.

Don’t we want to encourage self-expression and free them of the stifling dress codes hoisted upon them by the Carnival Committee. Again, what kind of message are the trying to send? I say that these clothes, which were good enough for my daughter to wear to her eighth grade prom, are good enough to be worn in Carnival competition. I recently wrote to Ms. Payne of the Carnival Committee and suggested that she get the DVD box set of Jersey Shore and then reconsider the dress code requirements.

I never got a response!

Thirdly, the talent competition is bor-ring… How many times must we listen to the Oscar Meyer theme song or watch Irish clog dancing? Aren't we all just sick of Irish clog dancing? Wouldn’t a pierogie eating contest be more exhilarating to watch? Wouldn’t it be more nostalgic; bringing back memories of the now defunct Pierogie Bowl held in the past every February? If that is unacceptable, then maybe a wings eating contest.

Fourthly, the question and answer sessions are bor---ring and time consuming. Since it is a Winter Carnival - not a Spring, Summer or Autumn Festival - the only question that should be asked of the young women should be weather-related.

My suggestion is that one short question, such as “How cold is it?” be asked to each and every contestant and the answer must be in one sentence only. For example: “How cold is it?” “It’s so cold that Mitt Romney changed his name to Mitten Romney,” “It’s so cold that I chipped my tooth on a frozen Marsden potato chip,” “It’s so cold that my torn boxer shorts are made out of flannel,” “It’s so cold that Bill Clinton thought that Hillary just walked into the room.” This would move the contest along at a rapid pace and it could finish well before its allotted eight hours. Much more interesting than listening to their aspirations and desires for peace and the elimination of hunger in the world. Speaking of hunger, I could use a Marsden potato chip right now.

None of my suggestions were acceptable to the Carnival Committee and that is why the Queen must abdicate her throne and the Winter Carnival governed by a people’s tribunal.

trout

Where have I been?

Where have I been?
I have been away for some time; unable to maintain the blog.
I apologize.

I was part of the Occupy Pottsville movement. I was camped out in Pocket Park.

The new city park on South Centre Street.

I was there for about two months.

Yes, that was me you probably gave the finger to, driving by on
your way to Maroons.

We would practice our chants until late in the evening.

That annoyed many of you.

Well, excuse me.

We are gone now.

No more chants.
We finally disbanded on Saturday night, the eve of the new year.
I can’t remember what our demands were but the city agreed to postpone
renaming Pocket Park.

That was one of the demands, I think.

We had lower expectations than our Occupy Wall Street compatriots.

We realized that we couldn’t
stop the billions given away to corporations as bail-outs by the government, we couldn’t
stop the tax perks and crony contracts given to multi-national businesses,

we couldn’t stop the military-industrial complex from continuing endless wars, and we couldn’t stop the give-aways to our elected officials, such as the defined benefit pensions with cost of living
increases even when the cost of living doesn’t increase.

No, our sights were lower…much lower.

We wanted subsidies for the local bars to have longer happy
hours.

Yes, that was one demand.

We wanted the Mayor to reinstate the dances that were held on the Norwegian Street
parking lot so that the 99% of us could once again dance freely with our backs to the wind.

That would require dance lessons to be given at various locations throughout the city,

not just at Catholic War Veterans Post.

We wanted skating boarding to be once again legalized in the downtown.

We wanted cartoon characters to once again grace Garfield Square at Christmas time so that our children, our step-children, our significant other's children and her step-children could experience an old fashioned Christmas.

Most of all, we wanted The Winter Carnival Queen to abducate her throne and be sent away to a nunnery.

We wanted her replaced with a newly created People's Winter Carnival Tribunal.

After we disbanded several of the protestors went to Garfield Square.

They would watch the beer bottle ascend.

Others went to the Hospital to await the arrival of the New Year baby.

Not me.

I went home.

I already knew the outcomes.

The bottle would rise and the baby would drop.

The baby would once again be born out of wedlock.

Nothing changes around.

Don't you agree?

It was a long two months and I needed a bath. a powerball ticket and a shot of boilo.

Not necessarily in that order.

Happy New Year.

the history of the Cressona Tunnel

The history of the Cressona Tunnel

West Haven, or as it is now known as the borough of Cressona*, is divided into two parts. East Cressona is the industrious section and home of the Aluminum plant, Schuylkill Products and Trail Gardens Center. West Cressona has the Dodge City Café. Both sides however need the other. To get from one side to the other was never easy. To correct this, the borough’s founding fathers had a tunnel constructed along Route 183. The tunnel now hosts approximately 120,000 vehicles every day. Mostly these vehicles consist of Walmart trucks as well as passenger cars filled with elderly people travelling to Bill’s Produce to purchase fresh fruit for their daily fiber intake as well as those of us who headed to the Dodge City Café for happy hour.

The tunnel became world famous when the producers of the video game Grand Theft Auto III used the entrance of the tunnel in the video game. Later the tunnel had a cameo appearance in the video game Donkey Kong. The tunnel also gained notoriety for being reversible on all major British holidays. On those days, such as Boxing Day, drivers will drive through the tunnel on the left side rather than the right. It is a spectacle to watch.

The tunnel was financed through a combination of revenue bonds, S& H Green stamps and soda bottle deposits. Ideas for the tunnel appeared as early as 1840, but soda bottles with a deposit hadn’t been invented yet, nor was glue and the S & H Green stamps would fall out of the books and onto the floor.

Since its construction in the early part of the 20^th century, the tunnel has faced several problems. First it was the management and control of the toll booths. The toll booths were necessary to recoup the construction and maintenance costs, retire the revenue bonds issued, and return the staggering amount of soda bottles that were left along the roadside waiting to be redeemed. However the toll booths caused serious traffic back-ups. Eventually both of the booths were pillaged and burned by irate travelers, especially by those irritable elderly travelers in search of reasonably fresh fruit to maintain regularity. Today, the toll booths are a part of history and anyone using the tunnel is now required to have an E-Z Pass device.

The most serious problem with the tunnel is that it was not built high enough and the enormous size of todays trucks transporting stuff for consumers to buy resulted in hundreds of trucks stuck within the tunnel. Three years ago one truck loaded with whoopee cushions remained lodged within the tunnel for seventy-two hours, creating a massive traffic jam as well as a whoopee cushion shortage within the county.

It was decided that warning signals needed to be erected. Proposal after proposal was given a try. The first proposal was to construct a large piñata in front of both sides of the tunnel. This was a failure as truckers deliberately hit the piñata and then stopped to pick up the candy that spilled out before getting the truck stuck in the tunnel. The second proposal was to hang a trucker in front of the tunnel. This lasted only one week due to the protests from various human rights organizations and other do-gooders. Finally the Cressona Borough officials, after listening to the scientists who espoused the theory that watching Sponge Bob slows a person down, decided to utilize the system that is in place now, despite the substantial copyright fees that must be paid with cash, S & H Green Stamps or unreturned soda bottles. No further disruption of the tunnel traffic has occurred since.

* from the word "cresson" meaning a moderately yellow-green color.

Bieber Day, September 18th

I was looking at the list of upcoming events occurring in Schuylkill County in September and I was intrigued by the Bieber Day Celebration in Pottsville. This year it will be on September 18^th as the event changes every year. The change is caused by a combination of the phase of the moon, the alignment of Jupiter and Uranus as well as the midget football schedule. This is according to the Pottsville Planetarium and the midget athletic department.

Why Bieber Day? Why Pottsville? What is the connection? No one is quite sure as there has never been a celebration of one particular individual in the county’s history. Not for John O’Hara, not for Tommy Dorsey, and not for Conrad Richter. A celebration to honor WPPA's radio legend, Wee Willie Whistle, although planned for October 1962 had been cancelled due to the Cuban Missile crisis as well as conflict with the midget football schedule.

This young Canadian pop star has never performed in the county seat. Not at the Sovereign Majestic Theatre, not at the Hippodrome, not at Goodfellas (which technically is not in the county seat but in an appendix to the county seat). Pottsvillians immediately took a shine to the young mop top singing sensation and they agreed to set aside one day in the month of September to honor him. On Bieber Day people from all walks of life will put aside their daily activities. Men will get up from their lazy boys, put out their cigarettes, and turn off their televisions sets. Women also get up from their lazy boys, put out their cigarettes, and turn of their television sets in the other rooms. They will gather together within the garden park that bears the youngster’s name, swaying back and forth to the strains of the Third Brigade Band’s melodic interpretations of his greatest hits. Hits that we all have come to know by heart and now part of the soundtrack of our lives.

Remember the feelings that you had when you first saw the scene in the film Casablanca when Victor Laslo began to sing “La Marseillaise” in defiance of the Germans? Remember how you felt when you watched that for the first time? Do you also remember the feelings that you had when you had your first hole in one at Heisler’s Miniature Golf Course? Now throw in the feelings that you had when your cell phone was in your pocket and it rang and it was set on vibrate? Well multiply all of those feelings by nine and one-half and then divide that by seven and then take the square root of that. This is the level of excitement you will have when you enter the park and participate in your first Bieber Day celebration. You will get a hint of the exhilaration awaiting you as you travel up Market Street after spending the earlier part of the day at Renninger’s Market with the rest of us. You will spot the mini-jams, guerilla dances, and Bieber hair pieces all over the place. This is nothing compared to the goings on within the park where each and every one of us is a player.

This year, Bieber Day is on September 18^th, - coincidentally the 41^st anniversary of the death of a great American guitarist, singer and songwriter- so a special bagpipe salute will occur at 6:50 which will feature lively but respectful renditions of Jimi Hendrix classics such as “Purple Haze” and “Are You Experienced.” This poignant performance should attract those of you old enough to remember Jimi Hendrix, John O’Hara, Tommy Dorsey, Conrad Richter as well as radio personality Wee Willie Whistle. It should also attract those of you who couldn’t care less about Justin Bieber.

At the time this blog is posted it was unclear whether the fire marshal would issue a waiver to allow the musician to spontaneously pour lighter fluid on his bagpipes, burn and smash them on the stage, and then throw the remnants into the audience as his grand finale. Those of us who deny that the bagpipes are really a musical instrument hope the waiver is granted. Pronto. That alone would be worth the price of admission.

earthquake

EARTHQUAKE IN POTTSVILLE AND SCHUYLKILL COUNTY

Yes, I am one of the survivors of the earthquake that pulverized Schuylkill County on Tuesday August 23^rd. I felt the earth move under my feet. But I am still alive to tell my story. I had the same sensation about ten years ago when Mount Laffee erupted. Ialso had a similar sensation the other day when my cell phone rang and I had it set on "vibrate."

I felt the sky tumbling down so I knew inside of me that something terribly was wrong.

When I began to sway after I left the Eagle’s Club on South Second Street in Pottsville in mid-afternoon I had a feeling of remorse. I kept saying to myself, “Why did I pay my school taxes already?” “Is it too late to stop payment on my check?”

As I made my way up Mahantongo Street I sat down and cried as I looked upon the devastation. Once a beautiful townhouse, the structure began to tumble down before me. There was nothing I could do. I felt sorrow for the absentee landowner, knowing that his beloved building can never be salvaged.

I made my way down to West Market Street and found that a beautiful brick residence was also in ruins. If you on Market Street it is across from Yanick’s garage. You can't miss it. Apparently the roof collapsed onto the porch. Luckily, anyone inside got out alive. It is quite a setback for the city as it is now an eyesore on what once was an attractive street. “What has Pottsville done to deserve such a wrath of God?” “Can Congressman Holden help these poor absentee property owners get federal aid?” “Can Barefield Development come to the rescue?” I hoped that the Code Enforcement Office would give the owner some slack in making repairs. Could this be our Katrina? We need federal assistance right away.

It wasn’t just Pottsville. Someone told me that there are areas around Shenandoah, particularly the Lost Creek and William Penn area that were hard hit. Others said it wasn’t true, as that area prefers to look that way.

In any event I pushed my way through the ruble and worked my way up to the courthouse. The place was hard hit by the tremors. It was reported that about half of the employees were awakened from sound sleep. It may take months for normal sleeping patterns to resume. The only good news at the courthouse was one employee who was adament that the earthquake cured her hiccups.

When I arrived, Grief Counselors were already on site. I told the grief counselor that I felt guilty paying my school taxes before the taxes were due in light of the impending Rapture or Apocalypse. I told the counselor that I had so much to live for. There was a splash party for dogs at JFK Pool on Saturday and I wanted to attend with my pit bull. “Would it be cancelled?” “What about the brick that I purchased for the Courthouse in honor of the bicentennial?” “Would I ever get to gather my family around for the formal dedication?” I was paranoid that the brick mason would misspell my name on the brick and I wanted to see it and touch it before it was placed into the courtyard. The counselor told me to take six deep breathes and get the hell out of his office as no one on the courthouse payroll is buying a brick.

I was afraid to sleep in my own house that night, not because of a fear of an aftershock, but because Mammy Trout was upset that I spent so much time at the Eagle's Bar. I made my way to Pocket Park and fell into a deep sleep.

Pocket Park

It will be several more weeks until the city of Pottsville unveils the name of its newest park located on North Centre Street across from the YMCA. Anticipation is building and already the city bookies are giving odds on some of the names in contention. I am not sure what all the criteria consists of for naming the park - now informally called Pocket Park. I sort of like the name Pocket Park and I would appreciate it if they just left the name alone. I have written a letter to the city requesting that it be officially be dedicated Pocket Park. However I was told that odds are one in three in favor of it being called El Parque de McGeever and two in six that it will be Barfield Park. Odds for it to remain Pocket Park are one in ten thousand. Not too good.

Parks don’t have to be named after people. Think about Central Park, Jellstone Park, the Boston Commons, Jurassic Park, Washington’s National Mall, Itchycoo Park or San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park. Pottsville can have its Pocket Park. I think there was a clown from the area called Pockets, so maybe he can honored if a person has to be honored. This way the name can remain the same but I don't think it is necessary.

Someone told me that what the city officials are generally looking for is a person. Not just any old person; preferably a living person, a friend, who is in need of an ego boost; if not, one that was recently living and who would still appreciate an ego boost posthumously. Personally I am against naming any public property after a living person or a recently departed person but I am in the minority.

The person to be honored must definitely be a man of course. Preferably a good old boy. Nothing in the city has ever been named after a woman and rightfully so. This policy stems, not from Sharia Law or Eve tempting Adam, but from the incident in 1807 when Maria Pott, the wife of city founder, John Pott, refused to attend the first American Way Fair with her husband. She said she hated the rides and she hated funnel cake even more. The chief burgess was so incensed that he introduced an ordinance banning the naming of any public property after any female from that day forward. The ordinance remains on the books today. Just like the ordinance that bans electronic billboards within the city. Look around and try to find anything named after a woman or try to find an electric billboard. You won’t find any and you never will. In a local hospital you will find a room named after Judge McCloskey and all our elementary school is named after John S. Clarke, who ran a garage I believe, but nothing after any women, even though most of hospitals and schools were staffed by women over the years. It’s forbidden to name anything after a woman other than a hurricane and the city is very strict on enforcing its ordinances. If the ordinance was repealed, Amanda Silliman would be a great example of a woman to be honored. She heroically assisted in giving aid to wounded civil war soldiers and at times risked her own life doing so. It is the 150th anniversary of the civil war and an appropriate time to honor her. She was also the first principal of the female grammar school on Centre Street. She is ineligible though because of Maria Potts' refusal to go to that fair that one partly cloudy day in May 1807 because she hated the horse-drawn tilt-a-whirl.

I was thinking that the Going My Way Bar that once graced the location of the park and featured some of the city’s first go-go girls. Top notch entertainment. These were female dancers who danced to vinyl records -predecessors to today's pole dancers - and they were trend setters in fashion; most of what is taken for granted today for normal female attire among the young ( and even not so young) stems from these go-go girls. I was planning to write a letter in support of one of my favorite dancers at the Going My Way, who really shook the floor when she danced to the Stones’ “Brown Sugar.” Maybe the park could be named after her. It’s a pity that ordinance remains on the books. Blame it on Maria Potts and her distaste for funnel cake.

I was told that there is one in ten odds in favor of “Justice Charles Moran Park” but while his credentials are very strong, it must be ruled out as his district did not encompass North Centre Street. Another Park will have to be built in the Yorkville Section for that to happen. Where is revenue sharing when we need it?

Someone said, “why not name it after a person of some national recognition?” To them I say why don’t you build your own park then. General Joulwan has his park and he is nationally known. That is enough for this city to handle. Anyway can you name any other person of national prominence from Pottsville? And don’t be bringing up some civil war generals or city founders as the criterion requires that the man must have lived in the period from 1960 to the present, and preferably a member of the Hibernians (while not absolutely necessary it sure does help). There is no one I can think of. Anyway, nothing of importance happened around here before 1960. It was a depressing time around here. Section 8 hadn't yet been invented. I think Section 2 1/2 was in effect. It was a time that people swept their sidewalks and took pride in their own property; these people were neighborly, and like me, frequented the downtown bookies to purchase their daily number tickets while shopping at the dazzling amount of busy stores, rather than sitting in front of computers to do on-line gambling and shopping. A sickening time indeed.

I got a great idea. I was thinking of that Rocking Horse Charles fellow that used to grace Centre Street. It was during an era when our charismatic street people were known to us on a first name basis. Rocking Horse Park has a ring to it. In fact I like it more than Pocket Park. I think I will write another letter to City Hall and suggest Rocking Horse Park. He was a man (not necessarily a Hibernian, but don't hold that against him) who had no national claim-to-fame but who certainly would appreciate an ego boost.

Reflection on summer events

Winning! I have completed my stay in rehab and have returned to Schuylkill County.

My first stop was the Eagles Club in Pottsville. My second stop was the Yuengling Dairy on Mahantongo Street where I indulged myself with a double scoop of Prothonocherry Ice Cream.

What did I miss while I was in rehab? For one thing, I was informed that a local tax collector was busted for allegedly having sticky fingers. This saddened me as I am a big supporter of the profession of local tax collector and recommend it to any school age child who has the wear-with-all and skills to open envelopes. Schuylkill County has at least sixty six other local tax collectors, all elected by the people and for the people, so one fallen angel won’t be missed but if there is a problem then I suggest a senior tax collector can be brought out of retirement to fill the void.

People don’t realize that it is a lot of work opening those envelopes and marking “paid” into the ledger.

Some naysayers have even argued that the position of an elected tax collector for each municipality should be abolished but I believe having a tax collector that lives in the neighborhood offers us all a sense of comfort and security. I bet you do too. I hate sending my Comcast, PPL and ATT bills to some anonymous person in some distant city. I would prefer a local Comcast, PPL and ATT bill collector in every municipality.... I take that back.... On second thought I would prefer a distant Comcast bill collector rather than some local blabbermouth telling everyone how many Spice Channel movies I pay for every month. So maybe just a local PPL and ATT bill collector. Scratch a local Comcast bill collector for now. The further away, the better.

What else did I miss while in rehab? Well, the big headline in the local paper announcing the closing of Minersville’s Frank and Burger Restaurant. This announcement is one of the biggest blows to the county economy since the closing of Argo Mills and the Schuylkill Haven Bounce-O-Rama ( note: the Argo Mills and Bounce-O-Rama did not close simultaneously) and this can have a far reaching impact on the county’s fragile economy as well as the flegling local wedding planning industry.

One local woman, standing on her front porch, expressed concern about how the closing will affect her, the neighbors, the other businesses in the borough and the general way of life in the community.

“It’s gonna hurt,” she said, “we are all struggling with the news…we are all crying and – you know, nervous. The County Commissioners had promised to send in grief counselors, but I have yet to see one. I plan to write a letter to our Congressman to see what he can do for us. This is worst than Katrina.”

I am showing my age when I confess that I am old enough to remember the time before “the big merger.” At one time there was a hot dog restaurant and then there was the hamburger restaurant. Hot dogs and hamburgers were not allowed to be sold at one restaurant simultaneously in Schuylkill County. Many youngsters don't realize this and take it for granted. Shame on them.

In time the two restaurants eventually merged, but not without a fight. Supporters of the merger argued that that it was a-bun-dantly unfair for an individual who wanted to both dine on a frankfurter and a hamburger to have to make two stops. They were frank and upfront with their complaints and the County Commissioners did not relish a fight and eventually approved the merger; stating that the Sherman Anti-trust law did not apply. Sharia or Murphy's Law did not apply either. Hot dogs and hamburgers could be sold on one menu in one restaurant at one time to one individual. And soon afterwards, spaghetti could be served with meatballs. It was a liberating feeling that we all shared. I remember the jubilant crowds filling up Sunbury Street, bigger than when the local softball team wins.

Now, with the demise of the Frank and Burger Restaurant, efforts are underway to make sure the people of Minersville are not without hot dogs and burgers. STS busses will have special runs between Coney Island in Yorkville and Minersville, where they will be met by special grief counselors hired through a summer work program.