A lot of words starting with the letter "r" have been associated with downtown Johnstown over the past few years. Revitalization. Redefine. Restoration. On the third Tuesday of this November, the owner of Press Bistro used the word "revolution". Whatever "r" word you choose, the best way to describe it is "real".
The pep talk about revolution was part of a Progressive Dinner hosted by Press and Balance restaurants, a culinary collaboration of two small businesses that flank Central Park like suppertime soldiers. My restaurant resume consists of watching Netflix and then using Play-Doh to invent dishes for my daughters. Nailed it!
So, as you can imagine, Press and Balance wanted to impress me, the local Wolfgang Puck. Everything I've ever heard about owning a restaurant is summarized by the consensus that it is hard. Eating at restaurants is easy, especially when you get a babysitter for a Progressive Dinner where you don't have to order. The food just comes out. Nailed it!
This progressive concept, months in the making, was executed to near perfection by the masterminds behind Press and Balance. The fusion of food, family, and friends traveled from one restaurant to the next. Our table shared laughs and reviews. It felt like an episode of Chopped except there was no validity in voting a chef off the show. Everything was excellent.
Three days later, I dashed downtown. After a Progressive Dinner, one's weight progresses. Alas, the annual Ugly Sweater Run is an opportunity to run past Press and Balance and burn off seafood risotto. (I could have lived in that risotto. Built a house there...) Anyway, the Ugly Sweater Run is the 2-mile warm-up to Light Up Night hosted by Discover Downtown Johnstown Partnership. This warm-up was in almost freezing temperatures with wind gusts. My Santa beard was disheveled yet children still offered their support as I maneuvered down Main Street.
Upon crossing the finish line, I freed my beard from the Santa beard. It was a lot of fun and a lot of beard. My family embraced me like an Olympian, partially because my mother was incorrectly telling people my goal time was 10 minutes. Even if I was offered a lifetime of seafood risotto, I don't think I could pull off 2 miles in 10 minutes. My children were not concerned about my time. It was time for the parade.
Parades are such a funny concept. I imagine the original parade pitch had some critics.
"We are going to get a bunch of people to participate in organized traffic. It will all move really slow. Spectators can line the streets and cheer for the traffic. Oh, and this is best in cold weather. We will throw some candy at them. It will be great!"
The 2019 Christmas parade featured some true entertainers. There was a Grinch on foot that did showstopping creepy work. A shepherd, dressed in blue, did some ridiculous and exceptional dancing on board the Environmental Tank and Container float. Imagine Bethlehem with a disco ball...and an environmental tank. The Peanuts always bring joy to the soul and of course high school band drumming never disappoints my offspring.
Post-parade thee tree light up in all thy glory. Central Park was full of anticipation as the countdown clock summoned a burst of red, green, and silver. My eldest daughter was on my shoulders, the warm-back-up workout after the Ugly Sweater run. There is nothing like having 45 pounds distributed on your shoulders as the colors of Christmas radiate in the autumn air.
The downtown experience is real. While there is a seasonal sensation downtown, a mighty big and bright tree, there are year-round businesses sparking the revitalization / redefinition / restoration / revolution.
Thank you to all those who made Light Up Night a success and to those lighting up downtown Johnstown day after day, all-year-round.
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Saturday, November 9, 2019
"No" Vember
For those of you that have been a 2-year-old, are a 2-year-old, or are raising a 2-year-old (that should cover all my readers), then you are familar with "No". It is the 2-word chorus of the 2-year-old.
However, rebuttals and rebellion come in much more provocative ways. For instance:
"Stop acting like a child".
My 2-year-old daughter told me that today. Notice there is "no" exclamation on that sentence. She looked me dead in the eyes and made that statement. She made that statement because I asked her to not stand on the toilet seat when attempting to wash her hands. As her body dangerously dangled over the sink, her heartbeat never changed, like some seasoned scuba diver wanting me to just leave her to her practice. There she was, seconds away from cracking her jaw on the faucet telling me:
"Stop acting like a child."
Last weekend, I was running like a grown man. Every November, since 2012, I run in the 5-mile Morley's Run. "No" body questions my authority from Westmont to downtown Johnstown. I was really happy with my time. The next day I discovered that a 60-year-old man finished a place ahead of me. This fact could have robbed me of my happiness, but I've lost to a wide variety of runners before in my racing career; most notably to a 9-year-old named Natasha way back in 2007 ("Stop acting like an Olympian, Natasha)."
Yes, I remember it vividly. That's how PTSD works.
Anyway, congratulations to all the runners, volunteers, and supporters of Morely's Run. As long as my legs work and my house is crazy, I'll be at the Morley's starting line each autumn.
Now, let's run back to the toilet.
Our society has tried to glamorize going to the bathroom by deeming it "potty training". First, "potty" is an uncomfortable word. It doesn't make the learning curve any easier by leading with "potty". It is "toilet training". Everyone needs to grow up and understand that the toilet is here to stay. And, if you don't train properly, you are going to be left in the dust, like me when I lose to 9-year-old girls and grandfathers.
Our 2-year-old likes to procrastinate toilet time by announcing "2-minutes". Now, this is absurd on 2 accounts. One, she can't tell time. Two, she makes no commitment to not peeing her pants during this untimed procrastinaton. It frustrates everyone except her. And that really is what toilet training comes down to: the day you realize that peeing your pants is no longer worth it. I truly believe every human being does a pros/cons analysis as a child. And until the cons outweigh the pros, we pee our pants. And we smile. Which leads me to my final point.
Smiling is the way to go. When you are toilet trained and able to reflect back, there is a whole lot to be grateful for. My pros greatly outweigh the cons. Johnstown's pros greatly outweight the cons.
And when I was a 2-year-old, there was no Internet. There was no place to blog. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my life and share some positivity via the World Wide Web, but I recognize how negative this way of communicating has become. If you are going to post, do it like a pro. Run with the positive pack. Making rude comments on the Internet is much like peeing your pants. It's messy. It's self-fulfillling. It needs to change (pants included).
Tonight, I hope my girls sleep well and dream big. I'll encourage them to not stand on the toilet seat when they brush their teeth.
Goodnight, Johnstown. Encourage on.
"No, thank you" to negativity.
However, rebuttals and rebellion come in much more provocative ways. For instance:
"Stop acting like a child".
My 2-year-old daughter told me that today. Notice there is "no" exclamation on that sentence. She looked me dead in the eyes and made that statement. She made that statement because I asked her to not stand on the toilet seat when attempting to wash her hands. As her body dangerously dangled over the sink, her heartbeat never changed, like some seasoned scuba diver wanting me to just leave her to her practice. There she was, seconds away from cracking her jaw on the faucet telling me:
"Stop acting like a child."
Last weekend, I was running like a grown man. Every November, since 2012, I run in the 5-mile Morley's Run. "No" body questions my authority from Westmont to downtown Johnstown. I was really happy with my time. The next day I discovered that a 60-year-old man finished a place ahead of me. This fact could have robbed me of my happiness, but I've lost to a wide variety of runners before in my racing career; most notably to a 9-year-old named Natasha way back in 2007 ("Stop acting like an Olympian, Natasha)."
Yes, I remember it vividly. That's how PTSD works.
Anyway, congratulations to all the runners, volunteers, and supporters of Morely's Run. As long as my legs work and my house is crazy, I'll be at the Morley's starting line each autumn.
Now, let's run back to the toilet.
Our society has tried to glamorize going to the bathroom by deeming it "potty training". First, "potty" is an uncomfortable word. It doesn't make the learning curve any easier by leading with "potty". It is "toilet training". Everyone needs to grow up and understand that the toilet is here to stay. And, if you don't train properly, you are going to be left in the dust, like me when I lose to 9-year-old girls and grandfathers.
Our 2-year-old likes to procrastinate toilet time by announcing "2-minutes". Now, this is absurd on 2 accounts. One, she can't tell time. Two, she makes no commitment to not peeing her pants during this untimed procrastinaton. It frustrates everyone except her. And that really is what toilet training comes down to: the day you realize that peeing your pants is no longer worth it. I truly believe every human being does a pros/cons analysis as a child. And until the cons outweigh the pros, we pee our pants. And we smile. Which leads me to my final point.
Smiling is the way to go. When you are toilet trained and able to reflect back, there is a whole lot to be grateful for. My pros greatly outweigh the cons. Johnstown's pros greatly outweight the cons.
And when I was a 2-year-old, there was no Internet. There was no place to blog. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my life and share some positivity via the World Wide Web, but I recognize how negative this way of communicating has become. If you are going to post, do it like a pro. Run with the positive pack. Making rude comments on the Internet is much like peeing your pants. It's messy. It's self-fulfillling. It needs to change (pants included).
Tonight, I hope my girls sleep well and dream big. I'll encourage them to not stand on the toilet seat when they brush their teeth.
Goodnight, Johnstown. Encourage on.
"No, thank you" to negativity.
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