Writing, plus Sid

A long time ago, I wrote letters, long, silly, thoughtful to so many people. My grandmother Izzy, my parents, my sisters and girlfriends. Remembering that habit now makes me jealous of the uninhibited blabby person I was then. Oh, I could go on and on. Often about nothing, but usually about something important, that mattered to me. I loved looping words and ideas around in circles, tying them up in neat bundles with a "Love, Kate" at the end.

Somehow I didn't have to think much about how the words tumbled out onto paper. They just did. It was exhilarating. As exhilarating were the responses: stamped, inky envelopes with my name on them, front and center, waiting for me in my mailbox.

I guess, on some weird level, it makes sense that I went into journalism. Just not to write. To edit, to design. Did my share of reporting but never liked talking to strangers. So that level of sense is, um, yes, weird? (If I could have a do-over, I would have studied French.)

Friends drifted away over the years; the good ones are still with me, though, and there are new ones as well. The writing habit drifted away as well, too, replaced by texting and email. There are never any bursting envelopes with my name on them in my mailbox anymore.

Still, I like to write. Sometimes I blather on. Sometimes I make sense. Sometimes I just erase everything and start over.

When I do finally sit down to it, I still love to feel the words tumbling out, making sense or not, looping around into circle, tied into a bundle that somehow makes some kind of story.

When I first came to Pittsburgh, to be a reporter for the Associated Press, I worked in the Clark Building on Liberty Avenue, Downtown. It was kind of down at the heels but there was a nice little concession stand in the lobby where you could pick up coffee, plus the morning Post-Gazette, New York Times, Wall Street Journal, etc.

I can't remember what floor AP's office was on, but there was a theatrical agent next door. Sid Markowitz? Markovitz? I think? Anyway, I never saw anyone go in there. The door to the office had a frosted glass panel with his name and title on it. Once in a while, he came out: short, dark suit and a fedora, smoking a cigar. He reminded me of this guy. Who illustrated Ray Bradbury.

There were gold and diamond merchants in the building; still are, I think. But now it's mostly luxury apartments.

Wonder what ever happened to Sid?

In which I meet Gerry, Bear and Edie (and miss 2 trains)

Here is how the day started: Yep. That's what I saw at the T station. Missed the 8:36. Figured I'd wait for the 8:55 instead. What the hell.

I had part of the paper, a magazine and a book. Dropped the paper and the book onto the wet pavement, picked up latter trying to figure out how to dry it without wiping it on my: hands, coat, skirt, stockings. No worries. A young woman in jeans and a jacket saw me holding the book between (figuratively) thumb and forefinger, marched over, grabbed it and said, "I'm wearing work clothes. Here." Then she swabbed it across her jean-clad thighs. What a sweetie! (Though I was kind of embarrassed.)

Pittsburghers are nice that way. (Oh, and a gentleman also picked up my newspaper. Seriously, I was not only late this morning, but a total klutz. And I wasn't even carrying coffee.)

So.

Finally Downtown, and even though I am looking forward to having a closer stop once construction of the North Shore connector is done, I will miss getting off at Wood Street. Because walking from there, I get to see this cool, white terra cotta-tile clad building on Liberty Avenue (left and detail at right). Interviewed (very badly) for a job there once, long ago. Still like the building.

The day hums along. I work. Drink coffee, go to the gym, work some more and ask my boss if I can leave a bit early to start my weekend. (Off Friday, woo hoo!).

Passing the Fairmont, I spot Edie, the hotel's canine ambassador, inside. I've been a wanting to meet her, so in I go. Edie proves elusive, trotting off to meet guests having drinks, including Gerry (pronounced Gary, she tells me) and Bear (true names, seriously). Gerry works for the Pittsburgh Public Theatre. Bear has very long hair and looks like an actress. Gerry says I look familiar and then we all agree I look like Tina Fey.

I had followed Edie to their little lobby nook, we exchange pleasantries and find that my friend Sharon is a mutual acquaintance.

Edie wanders off and I say my goodbyes to G & B and a staffer offers to take my picture with Edie.

Aren't we adorable!?

However.

My little diversion means, again, at the end of the day, I arrive at a train station only to see the caboose (figuratively again) disappearing into the distance.

That's OK. I got to meet Edie and Gerry and Bear.