Pottsville Crimson Tide

Growing up in Pottsville in the fifties was a great time; children wore Davy Crockett hats and played cowboy and Indians. The next decade was very turbulent. For those of you mathematically challenged I am referring to the sixties, a decade that brought upheaval - with war, the struggle for civil rights and the assassination of the beloved President.
You may be thinking I am referring to the 1950s, but I am not. I am talking about the 1850’s, for that is the decade that Pottsville High School opened for business.
There are so many unanswered questions about those early days. The most perplexing question, of course, is “why does Pottsville High School an oceanic nickname? Why “The Tide?” Take a walk around the city and you are hard-pressed to find any sand, shells, or hermit crabs even in Pottsville’s “fish-bach” section. Secondly, look around; Pottsville is like Rome – a hilly place; it’s not Miami or even nearby Clamtown.
Don’t you often lay awake at night like I do, tossing and turning, wondering “Why ‘the Tide’ and not ‘the Mountaineers’?” When it was confirmed that the school wasn’t promoting Proctor and Gamble’s household product, I assumed the name must have some connection with the Schuylkill River, but I needed to know for sure. I needed to sleep soundly once again. I would travel to the school and find out.

Not surprisingly, none of the original faculty members were still teaching, so I relied on the old school newspapers, school board minutes, and bathroom graffiti to find out more about the selection of the quaint aquatic name. Remember, in 1853 the school was not located high on 16th Street, it was the downtown somewhere; but even down there the water level did not warrant flood insurance. Why the name “Tide?”
Could the Schuylkill River have a tide? I definitely had a scientific background as I own the “Back to the Future” DVD trilogy. I also had won a ribbon at the school science fair with my entry, "Sweet and Sour: How Can Pork be simultaneously both?” But I did not trust myself and I sought out expert advice. I went to Mount Carbon’s Adelphia Seafood to further my research. It is Schuylkill County’s version of an edible aquarium. I took a number and waited for service. When it was my turn, I said, “I’ll have pickled herring and can you tell me if rivers have tides?” I was dumbfounded by the candid response. “Yes indeed! Rivers do have tides. That includes our own Schuylkill River. Not only do rivers have tides, even the earth and the air around us have tides. Fishermen depend on the tides for their livelihood. Moonlight also affects the size of their catch. But I’m sorry we are sold out of pickled herring.”
I was closer to the answer to my question. It had nothing to do with oceans. Rather; the school name came from the full moon, which affects oceans, the Schuylkill River, Ivy Side pool, the even the Centre Street fountain. Indeed, that is why Nativity H.S. calls its team, “The Green Wave.” Amazingly, Pottsville’s two schools, high atop opposite mountains, are nautically named.
I did further research at the Eagles Club and discovered that 80% of the human body is composed of either water or beer depending on what time of day it is, and whether the beer is lager or light. I stared at the bottle in front of me and began to ponder the gravitational force of the moon and its influence on the water within the human body.
I said to the bartender “So we all have tides within ourselves and are all affected by the moon.” I now felt as if I had solved the Pottsville Republican Sodoku puzzle. I had discovered why Pottsville is “the tide.”
“Each one of us has our own high tides and low tides! Just like the football team. Yes, the Tide was a name given by the original Pottsville school board members, who were probably all druids, in respect for the gravitational pull found within everyone of us.”
At that moment the Eagles barkeep politely asked me to leave. I now had to search for pickled herring.

What I am thankful for...

THANKSGIVING 2007

It is so easy to take things for granted and forget to count one’s blessings.

Yes, I know that we are all grateful that there is only one year left of the Bush Administration. But I am not referring to that.
Yes, many of us are grateful for having the love of a family, grateful for the love of friends, and for a few of us, grateful for the love available south on Route 61 at a very reasonable and affordable price. But I am not referring to that either.
Yes, we are grateful for having a warm house, good health, and good or marginally good food this Thanksgiving. But I am not even referring to that.
What I am referring to are the little things that we subconsciously cherish, thoughts of pilgrims' pride, thanksgivings past and present, which we fail to express. Feelings that we keep within ourselves.

These are a few of the things that I am thankful for this Thanksgiving:

*I am thankful that the pilgrims selected turkey rather than raccoon for the first Thanksgiving dinner.

*I am thankful that we are now not subjected to people bragging about Notre Dame Football.

*I am thankful that during the last debate Hillary Clinton was able to definitely answer the question, “do you prefer white meat or dark meat?”

*I am thankful that my daughter did not enter the New Year Baby contest this year

*I am thankful that while gas prices have skyrocketed, canned turkey gravy at all three Pottsville Dollar stores still remains a bargain

*I am thankful that all male turkeys are referred to as Tom Turkeys and not Dick Turkeys or Harry Turkeys.

*I am thankful that pilgrims did not wear either spandex clothing or low-rise baggy pants.

*I am thankful for finally being told that Squanto was not the sister of the Marx Brothers.

*I am thankful that the Pilgrims decided to host the Thanksgiving dinner rather than be guests at the Indian Casino, idling their time in front of progressive slot machines.

*I am thankful that Mary Todd Lincoln proclaimed the day after Thanksgiving to be designated as “Black Friday,” a day of national shopping.

Happy Thanksgiving

Pottsville Palette Police

What? Am I reading the newspaper correctly? A few people squawked about loud colors being used within the city limits. Long known for its breathtaking swatch of grays and neutrals, Pottsville now wants to protect this image. It wants to prevent the city from being infiltrated by garish pigmentations. Does it refer only to those new colors such as soylent green, you don't look bluish, your just plain yellow, and jaundice? Will it mean that Nativity will have to change its school colors from green & gold to mauve and tan? You know that there are some bright colors that are popular with Hispanics and that could lead to problems with the city. I suggest that Kelly green be banned along with any of the tropical colors just to play it safe. We don't want to be accused of color profiling.

A few years ago the city began mandating that sidewalks be made of concrete, brick or stone. That upset some people who wanted to either make their sidewalks out of beer caps, gravel. crushed iced tea cartons or asphalt. I sided with the city as sidewalks should have some uniformity as they are a public thoroughfare over private property. I just think that roads should be roads and sidewalks should be sidewalks.
Also, while I respect the opinion that we should be proud of our coal heritage, I disagreed with those who want sidewalks to resemble anthracite mine paths. Even a well known restaurant downtown painted over its asphalt sidewalk with a color resembling pizza dough when asked politely by city officials. That is what I call cooperation and Pottsville Pride. Now at least it no longer can be confused with the street when I park my SUV to run in a get my pepperoni pie.

The city is now taking things further and suggesting a Pottsville Palette Police in order to regulate colors. Does this mean that our code enforcement officers will be sent away to art classes to be certified in the variety and uses of hues, tones, tints and shades? Don’t be surprised to see your code enforcement officer wearing a black beret soon. God bless them. I hated art class, except the one day the nude models showed up.
Many years ago the city decided that the statues on Garfield Square should be painted. No one even complained; but sure enough, tax dollars were being spent painting the statues. It was so long ago I can’t remember what the soldiers on the square were being painted to resemble. But with so much paint on their faces, I doubt that the soldier would have been allowed to enlist in the military, even with a “don’t ask, don’t tell policy” in effect. Luckily enough people rose up to protest and protect our heritage. The city backed down before they could get their paint brushes on old Henry Clay up on his pedestal.

With so many buildings in need of repair the city should be grateful that any color paint is being used. However, if the city wants to start regulating colors on buildings, then maybe they could start with that mysterious building on Laurel Boulevard just west of the court house. I have a picture up for you to look at. The building is not painted yet. Probably the owner is waiting for a decision from the code enforcement office.

It would be a great place to put in practice what one learns in art class.

Looking at the building one’s eyes are drawn to the shiny blue plastic roof. The cool, calming effect of this blue roof soothes me as I drive up Laurel Boulevard. This blue, plastic rooftop conveys a sense of confidence; the blue of the plastic rooftop symbolizes the sky, the ocean, sleep and twilight. The blue of the plastic rooftop also conveys a deep religious message to me, as blue is the color of the Virgin Mary. Yes, this blue, plastic roof was given apparent code enforcement office approval. Yes, there is something comforting about that little, humble building on Laurel Boulevard with its blue plastic roof. But it needs to be completed with a coat of fresh paint.

The daunting task for our newly created Palette Police is to coordinate the blue rooftop with a color on the outer unpainted outer walls.

While I never attended Penn State, I would suggest a flat white.

The other Thompson Building Plans

The Pottsville Republican broke the story recently of a plan to renovate the downtown landmark Thompson building into college apartments. While many resent the fact that the city is attempting to attract middle-class young people into our city, all plans deserve to be studied carefully. My secret source (actually a blabbermouth from the Eagles bar) revealed to me the "other plans" under consideration for this architectural wonder named after the late gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson . I will share them with you right now:

1. Thompson Parking Lot. With the successful transformation of the YMCA into a barren parking lot, many think a new lot at the southwest corner of Centre and Market Streets is the ideal next step to alleviate the critical lack of parking for Roma pizza devotees. The city health department recently cited alarming statistics involving the direct correlation between walking and pizza consumption. “It appears that pizza lovers do not like to walk. It is plain and simple, as well as pepperoni and simple, and extra cheese and simple,” the Pottsville Surgeon General announced. He continued his warning that “The city has a moral obligation to alleviate the suffering caused by the lack of parking near every pizzeria within the city limits. This lack of adequate parking forces people to walk several steps in order to pick up their pies. This is intolerable to a people who have lost the NFL championship in 1925 and have suffered ever since.”

Proponents of this plan believe that if the Thompson building was razed for additional parking, the implosion would attract dozens to the downtown to watch. Furthermore it is believed that Roma would seriously consider painting another sidewalk on the perimeter of the new asphalt parking lot, mimicking the appearance of a real sidewalk and placating those whining citizens who think that the downtown should have sidewalks for pedestrians.

2. The Thompson Prison. With the rise of more activities becoming illegal, there is a pressing need for additional prison cells. The transformation of the Thompson building to the Thompson Prison makes good economic sense. The downtown would have a “captured audience” (no pun intended) to build upon. One main hurdle to overcome is the lack of exercise facilities for the prisoners, but it was determined that the inmates could easily use the nearby Green YMCA parking lot as a prison yard for workouts and exercise. Merchants were betting on the prisoners being allowed “good time” passes every Friday to coincide with their new marketing campaign aimed at criminals. However the merchants were warned by the police that illegal betting has never been tolerated within the city limits. Ironically they could end up being the first residents at the new state of the art Thompson High Rise Prison. Opponents argue that prisoners should not be coddled. Those in favor, however, state that while every cell would contain its own mini-bar and plasma tv, and even though a rooftop tennis court and swimming pool will added, these are necessary to attract a higher caliber of prisoner; absolutely no coddling will be permitted on the premises. If this plan takes off, then Pottsville could eventually rival Allenwood as the choice location for the discriminating, sophisticated convict.

Incidentally, the top floor of the Thompson Prison is an ideal location for conjugal visits. I should know as Mammy and I are members of the legendary Thompson Building Mile High Club :).

3. Thompson Homeless Shelter. The cold-hearted city zoning board recently nixed the idea of transforming Mahantongo Street into a Homeless District, an idea that most Pottsvillians enthusiastically supported. Proponents such as me argued that a Homeless District would have given Pottsville a more 1970s New Yorkish, Bowery-type appearance which hopefully would have attracted the down and out from across the country, increasing the city's declining population and increasing employment for social and mental health workers.

“Right now Pottsville is losing many of its toothless drifters to warmer climates! We have to stop this steady out-migration,” one leading proponent fervently argued, “Although Pottsville leads the county in low income housing and shelters, we should not rest until every house in the city can be classified as low income subsidized housing. We don't want to become another Orwigsburg.”

4. The Thompson American Way Fair Museum. Since the first American Way (a/k/a “May Fair”) was held in 1976 to commemorate the anniversary of something or other, Pottsville City Hall has been flooded with discarded fair memorabilia. Proponents of this plan argue that the American Way Fair is “our generation’s history” and it is being ignored. For instance, the average child today is totally unaware that the idea of fiberglass insulation first came about when some American Way cotton candy fell against the wall of Kep’s corner store.

The next time you go to city hall, ask to look around the basement, but be prepared to cry. It will break your heart to see the voluminous buckets of funnel cake mix, fading photographs of mullet-haired, bare-chested revelers, and crumpled amusement ride ticket stubs all piled up, just waiting for a real home. The Thompson Building may be just the right size to exhibit the artifacts that are now just gathering dust within the bowels of city hall. Such a museum could rival the riveting Mummers' Museum in Philadelphia.

Fill'er up

If you have not noticed, gas prices keep going up; the price now ranges between $3.12 and 3.29 for regular unleaded. I think the prices will level off at around $7.49 right around Elvis’ birthday, also known as the Feast of the King. Mammy Trout was so concerned that she called one of our dysfunctional family conferences to discuss the situation. Mammy had always preached to us that it was “Manifest Destiny” for the Trouts to drive anywhere at anytime without concern of fuel prices. It appears that she is now reconsidering that position.
What do we drive? Well, Mammy drives her sexy ’03 Cadillac Escalade. I believe she drives it because she thinks that a large car makes a woman’s backside appear smaller, sort of like smoke and mirrors. Yes, artful deceitfulness. But when asked why she drives the Escalade, she politely answers, “there are only two options open to all drivers – it’s either kill or be killed when you are on the road.” Yes, she is a safety nut that puts a lot of miles on going back and forth to her Senior Olympics’ try-outs and boom-bas practices, and she takes pride in the fact that she has never been injured, either on the road, field or stage. Yes, she remains fairly active despite being on disability for her acute heliophobia, which is medical terminology for a fear of Pottsville’s helicopters. Incidentally, Mammy is a prime example of the old maxim "the older the driver, the larger the vehicle.” That maxim is one of life’s mysteries.
I drive a 1991 F-350 Supercab. Mammy told me that no man is a real man unless he drives an F-150 or higher. Like most men around here I basically use it to pick-up and return my DVDs from West Coast or Hollywood Video. My daughter Santana drives the smaller ‘99 Chevy Tahoe. Mammy is worried about the youngster driving around in such a small vehicle, but I told her she will be OK as she always drives with her helmet on.
Like most Schuylkill Countians we are now confronted with having to consider “cutting back” or “conserving energy.” Those words made Mammy’s chapped lips tremble with rage. She thought we were already doing enough by turning off our bug zapper promptly at 11 PM in the summer and 9 PM in the winter. Like Job from the land of Uz in the Old Testament she lamented to the heavens “What more is expected from me?”
At our dysfunctional family conference we came up with the following suggestions:

Instead of lubricating our engines with expensive Quaker state motor oil, we will use our left over Coney Island grease;

We will speed up and then coast down Market Street in the 2008 Cruise Night.

To lighten her Escalade Mammy will remove the hanging dice, the Maroon bobblehead, and the mud flaps;

We will all drive faster on Route 61, thereby cutting down our time spent on that highway.

We will use Mapquest to lay out routes that only take us downhill;

We will cut out one unessential trip per week by sleeping in every Sunday morning;

We will put a brick in our gas tanks which will make the tanks fill up faster on less gasoline;

At night we will sneak out and change the price signs at Sheetz to read .39 per gallon;

When her disability check is delivered, Mammy will walk to the mail box rather than drive;

We will demand that our gas purchases be by the liter as gas by the liter is cheaper.

McAdoo Associates' Super Fun Site

Mammy Trout is already planning our next summer vacation. We take the grandkids during our one week of so-called grandparents’ visitation. We'll pick them up at Burger King and head off somewhere nice. I wish our daughter, Santana, had not turned on us and made us get a court order. You know, she stopped talking to us after we disapproved of her attending the senior prom with someone other than one of the fathers of her children. Call us old-fashioned.
With gas prices so high we will stay closer to home. My dream vacation of Dutch Wonderland is out of the question as one has to drive by Lebanon. With all of the strife in the Mideast I would never venture anywhere near there. Mammy heard that there is a Super Fun Site up north in McAdoo. That is far from the border with Lebanon. Staying in Schuylkill County makes me less anxious so I told her to check it out. She was told that the owners of the Super Fun Site is a group called McAdoo Associates but Mammy checked the Schuylkill County Parcel Locator and the Recorder of Deeds and there is no place ever owned by McAdoo Associates. That is puzzling to me. She thought if she called before the end of the year we could lock in tickets at today’s prices. I would be bursting with pride if I owned a Super Fun Site that provides family entertainment. I would want the whole world to know that my land is both super and fun. I heard that this Super Fun Site is on the national register, so it must be as great as Coney Island, Angela Park or the Neverland Ranch. I have no idea why the ownership is being kept a mystery. I told Mammy to call the Schuylkill County Visitors’ Bureau and ask if any discount tickets to the McAdoo Super Fun Site are available. Despite being told an emphatic no, I quickly called the young ones and told them that “We’re going to McAdoo Associates’ Super Fun Site next summer!”
I can just picture all of the attractions there - tilt-o-whirls, bumper cars, and plenty of arcade games such as Skee Ball. I was told that there are plenty of barrels on the premises for the kids to play in and use their imagination. Fly ash and river dredge are other things the kids might be able to play in. More fun and less boring than Sesame Place. I bet there is even a waterslide at the place that splashes all over the place. Otherwise, why would I be told that everyone there should wear a biohazard suit? I don’t mind getting splashed one bit. I certainly will not be walking around eating cotton candy or caramel apples with a biohazard suit on. No sir. It’s a family outing and I will wear my favorite tank top. But maybe the Super Fun Site is sort of like the Renaissance Faire where everyone dresses up. If that’s the case, maybe I will put one on, but only if the theme is Star Wars, and everyone joins in a game of Lazer Tag..
Anyway, I finally found a map to the place. If you have the parcel numbers, then please email them to me. If I win a stuffed animal at the Super Fun site carnival booth, I promise to send it to you even though someone told me that the only animals I will find up there will be contaminated or dead ones. They were just pulling my leg. Weren’t they?
Mammy loves the carnival booths too. She said the last time she went to the American Way Fair some man told her she had to take off her shoes and then sit on his lap in order for him to get her weight guessed accurately. Mammy was very patient and had to sit there for fifteen minutes before he gave up. What that woman will do to win an oversized, plastic Section 8 ball. The man didn’t mind losing as he told her to come back later as he’d like to guess her weight some more. I told her one prize was enough. Don’t we already have enough Section 8 balls?

I wonder if McAdoo has a flume ride. I ask because I was told that I may get tied to a log and hurled down a stripping hole if I keep asking too many questions about the history of the place. That sounds more exciting than the spinning tea cups at Dutch Wonderland but I think I will pass on that one. I can’t wait until next summer.

SUPER FUN!