Sunday, January 22, 2017

Genre Johnstown

Inside Greg Malec's Barber and Styling Shop, there is a framed picture that reads, "Music can change the world". On an unseasonably warm January Saturday, I attended a rock concert of a haircut. It was just one experience that week where music made a difference.

On Wednesday evening, my wife and I were welcomed to The Family Tree Tour. Two musicians in the five-member band, Sunday Muse, brought their folksy flavor to Mill House Cafe. This Diamond Boulevard coffee shop was transformed into an intimate music den. Caitlyn and Ben played a full set, mixing in stories with their songs. Hailing from just outside Philadelphia, they were traveling across the state, coffee house by coffee house.

Listening to Caitlyn's voice and Ben's guitar, I admired their pursuit - hit the road, spread some love, add branches to a family tree. When Caitlyn announced she was about to sing their new single, "New England", I was probably the only one in the room who concluded, "Great song...GO STEELERS."  I kept my thoughts to myself until we got in the car. My wife confirmed that I undoubtedly was the only one who thought about football at a folk-pop show. Before walking out, we got to talk to Caitlyn and Ben, two ambitious road warriors headed for their next gig in Pittsburgh. The show must go on.

Our show, as parents, led us to Soccer Shots on Saturday morning. Rivaling Caitlyn and Ben's ambition is anyone who chooses to coach 2 and 3-year old children in soccer. For the next two months, our family will be at Hiram G. Andrews Center each Saturday morning for Soccer Shots. This national initiative runs on the idea of a "high energy program introducing children to fundamental soccer principles, such as using your feet..."

While the foot principle was enforced, it was the coach's voice that led the charge. She used silly songs to bring together a team of silly boys and girls. She used the term "soccer island" to wrangle them. Standing on "Dad island", a flock of fathers were amazed. It was working. A smiling, singing stranger was doing the impossible. Music can change a 2-year-old's world.

Alas, I made it to my haircut. Greg Malec's West End barber shop is walk ins only, music definitely. As hair flies, speakers, hung from the ceiling, blast out a mix of rock and roll. As I waited for my time on the chair, I couldn't help but stomp my feet to the barbershop anthem. Here is a small business owner a cut above when it comes to entertainment value.

All of these musical moments combined with tropical Johnstown weather led me to Stackhouse Park. With a fresh haircut and a 2-year old strapped on my hiking backpack , I listened to the birds. They were equally confused. Dozens of people roamed the park and the streets of Westmont bewildered by Mother Nature. In shorts, I enjoyed the songbirds of January and a hike with my daughter.

The closing song for my week was at PRESS Bistro. That Saturday night, a packed house listened to the humorous pianoman known as Matt's Blues. My wife and I had heard his sound before at an event this past December. We were served monstrous, marvelous meals as Matt took requests, told jokes, and even had a local author come on stage for a performance.

At one point, Matt offered the crowd this reminder, "Happiness is a choice". That line was squeezed in between New Orleans inspired blues and tales of jazz days gone by. When I got home, it was a line to hold on to.

Music can change the world. It can change Johnstown. And the people who sing and play are the biggest part of that change.

Thank you Greg, Mill House, Caitlyn, Ben, Coach Teasha, PRESS, and Matt.







Saturday, January 14, 2017

Monarch for the Week

According to my Internet research, a monarchy is a form of government with a single ruler. Heredity is how one makes it to the throne. There are variations of monarchies dating back to the Middle Ages. A monarch often refers to his or her land as the kingdom. Some monarchies are absolute. Some are constitutional. I did not dedicate time to understand the difference.

All I know is that I was the Monarch of the Mill, taking my throne on Monday, January 9th. Unlike traditional monarchies, a family dynasty had nothing to do with me being chosen. I simply had sipped on enough coffees at Mill House Cafe in Westmont to be eligible for the seat. Mill House has a one-week lottery system for its monarchy, which I believe makes it unconstitutional and surely not absolute. On the morning of the 9th, I received the call.

A barista, a young nobleman, left a voicemail on my cell phone declaring my position. As monarch, I had zero responsibility. I had the opportunity to receive free coffee for the week and my name would be visible to the townspeople. In my kitchen, I hugged my wife, now empress.

Once my daughter awoke and was delivered the news, our royal family traveled by automobile to the Mill. My child did not comprehend the ceremonial nature of this visit; however, she was excited for the prospect of a blueberry muffin.

For quite some time, Mill House has been a part of my road trip to work. My love for travel is sometimes fulfilled by their collection of coffees - Nutty Irishman, Jamaican Paradise, Scottish Highlander, and so on. As I drive over Ligonier Mountain, I sip on foreign lands and drift down memory lane. I had the blessing to travel the Irish countryside and honeymoon in Jamaica. Maybe one day I will hike in Scotland.

During my week as monarch, I made multiple stops at the Mill. When with family, I was entertained by the daughter who knows me only as "Dad" and sometimes instructs me to "get out of here". She believes in her personal space no matter my title. She got a few laughs out of the welcoming Mill House staff.

Even though I had no responsibility as monarch, I listened to the chatter of the common man. Throughout the week, I heard people talking about church initiatives, demographic studies, and casual small town U.S.A. talk. I concluded that the Mill was a locale for ideas, business, friends, and family. I am glad it is a mill in operation. Keep making good coffee and opening the door to good people.

Alas, my reign comes to an end. I hit a deer on the 1st and was a servant to auto repair. By the 9th, I was a monarch. The ebb and flow of life.

This Monday, I'll make my way back over Ligonier Mountain. No longer prestigious, I'll stop at Mill House, grateful for my good fortune and for a small business doing it right.







Sunday, January 8, 2017

Still Great

As part of my daughter's 2nd birthday celebration, we planned on seeing the movie "Sing" @ Westwood Plaza Theatre and Cafe. It was a great family matinee and I would like to think a tribute to the man who brought this movie experience to the community.

A day before our 12:30 showing, I read that Andy Lasky, founder of the Theatre, passed away. While I did not know him personally, I remembered him as the movie man from my childhood. As film-goers would find their seats, he often walked up and down the aisle with a smile. He would sometimes give a sneak preview of what the audience was about to see. For a grade school kid, Mr. Lasky was a showman.

"Sing", Illumination Entertainment's latest animated hit, stars an ambitious koala bear, Mr. Buster Moon. Koalas are known to be sleepy, uninspired tree dwellers, but Mr. Moon is not your average koala. He is a theatre owner desperate to keep his business afloat. A series of animal antics and musical performances put Mr. Moon's ambition to the test.

On a snowy Saturday afternoon, Westwood Plaza Theatre was full of families eager to find out if Buster Moon could pull this off. Kids and popcorn were scattered everywhere. My daughter was dancing to the opening musical numbers and sleeping through the credits. As I walked out the Theatre, I imagined a smiling Mr. Lasky. I think he would have enjoyed seeing this crowd.

Mr. Lasky brought a movie business to town that still stands. It survived changes in ownership, changes in demographics, and a fire. Without spoiling "Sing", I can tell you that Mr. Moon has to use his survival instincts. Water, not fire, becomes the biggest obstacle in the koala's path.

The movie and the Theatre left me with a positive feeling. Work hard. Never lose hope. And, if you come together, you might just come out on top.

Go see "Sing" @ Westwood Plaza Theatre and Cafe. The Great Cheap Date is not as cheap as it once was, but it is just as great. I think you will be entertained, and just maybe, there is a lesson to be learned - from the legacy of a local entrepreneur who founded the Theatre and a determined koala bear who lights it up.







Saturday, January 7, 2017

Dear Deer

Dear Deer,

In the evening on New Year's Day, we met on Ligonier Mountain. It happened so fast. Upon hearing the impact, I was alarmed and absolutely unsure as to who or what delivered the boom. My Subaru Outback, courtesy of Spangler Subaru in Johnstown, was still propelling forward, but I was compelled to turn back.

With my high beams on, I spotted you. You had to have been the Jane Doe who collided with my family wagon. Lucky for me, no passengers were on board. Unlucky for you, I ruled you perished on impact. I took a picture of you as evidence of the collision. Standing on that cold mountain, I was really nervous that you were going to move or whimper, only to make this situation more combative. Thankfully, that did not happen.

My Outback, born in 2008, was hurt, yet hopeful. The front bumper was mangled and the passenger side fog light was hanging like a Christmas tree ornament. Considering what had just happened, I found gratitude in this being the only wounds. I did blame you for being an unintelligent beast of the forest. I used more colorful language at the time, but it is time that gave me the ability to reflect. You lost your life. I lost a fog light. I must move on.

By the way, I am not a hunter. I would have been more inclined to pet you than shoot you. One of my uncles thought I should have thrown you on top of the Subaru. Dinner could have been served. I did not have the physical or emotional strength to complete Step 1 in transforming you into jerky. If your species could read, I would question how and why you cross roads, especially at night. Our species has taken "deer in the headlights" and ran with it for generations. Your species continues to run across roads taking chances and fog lights.

"Saving the Subaru" is still a work in progress. Moving on meant I had to forge ahead as a husband and father. I am sure you had a family and would somewhat understand my responsibilities if you were alive. For the past two years, my wife and I have enjoyed a couples massage as our Christmas gift to each other. I needed this experience at The Vault, much like you needed to turn around and find peace on that side of the mountain. You did not and my Subaru vaulted you.

As a man, walking into The Vault is intimidating. Think of it like the road - a place you probably shouldn't be, but you are curious. This downtown Johnstown spot has a lot going on. On this first Friday of 2017, I weaved my way through the hairstyles and pedicures. This is where "deer in the headlights" applies to man. I survived and climbed the mountain; the steps to the relaxation room.

Relaxation is what I needed and it is what I got. The massage was excellent. I think I fell asleep in the middle of it. Actually, from the moment I hit you to the massage nap, it has all been a bit of a weird and wacky dream.

Alas, there is gratitude. I was not injured. My Subaru is still fighting the good fight. I will not offer an apology because I had no intention of this outcome. You presented a challenge early in 2017. If I see any of your family in the winter ahead, I hope it is from a safe distance.

There is no turning back now.









Monday, January 2, 2017

GO! GO! GO!

One of my daughter's favorite words is "go". She often says this two-letter verb with exclamation. Sometimes she clearly does not have a destination; movement is what she desires. When she turns 2 this January, many of her fans will ask, "Where has the time gone?" Life is all about going.

2016 was all about go. I imagine many young parents experience the bobbing and weaving that is taking care of a child while still holding on to personal ambitions. Even before a baby, my wife and I had trouble sitting still. Before a daughter, we went. With a daughter, we went further.

Our travels took us the whole way to the Pacific Coast and the Grand Canyon. Our bus driver to the Grand Canyon was a native of Pittsburgh. He was quite familiar with Johnstown and he talked to us about Western PA and what he missed about home. His message was quite simple. He chose to get away from winter, but he still cheered for Crosby and Malkin.  Over the loud speaker to a bus full of America, he announced, "GO PENS!"

As the year came to a close, one of our family's final nights out and about was in downtown Johnstown. "Holiday Inn Jill" has become a reason to go downtown. Her voice is unmistakable and her singing has become synonymous with weekend nights @ the Holiday Inn. My wife proudly proclaims she is a groupie to this local musician. Our daughter follows my wife's musical sense (and follows her everywhere). When Jill was taking a break in between songs, my wide-eyed wanderer of a daughter shouted out, "GO JILL!"

Jill listened to that 1-year old fanatic and sang into the night. We waved goodbye. There was more go-to-go. Further down on Market Street, an Italian eatery has stood the test of time. Gallina's is downtown Johnstown's welcoming pasta shop or the place where a youngster grows delirious over the thought of chicken and fries. In a day and age where so much has come and gone, Gallina's has stayed, and hopefully, going nowhere; a restaurant with great food and a better atmosphere.

Our last stop was to see The Tree. We knew it was going to be gone soon. When it came to Central Park, it livened up the city and brought cheer to young and old. Christmas Day was gone, but the Christmas season was still in "go". The music was blasting. My daughter was doing laps. Go. Go. Go.

Finally, we went home. While that canyon out west is grand and that tree in Central Park is impressive, nothing is like home. Thank you, Johnstown. I look forward to another Pens Stanley Cup run, power ballads from Jill, eating with all my power at Galina's, and continuing to search for the bigger and the better. But for now, three heavenly words...

GO TO BED.