Chris Rodell's Blog, page 7

Why I never write about going to High School in Mt. Lebanon

 (767 words)The question caught me by surprise. One of my oldest buddies had made the drive from Pittsburgh to Latrobe to spend the day drinking, joking and generally ditching the world of common responsibilities.So it was pretty much like we’d time traveled back to high school for a day of carefree hookie.Then he asked me if I’d ever suffered a trauma in high school.In fact, I had. I’d been

What will I call my "Tweets of the Month" when Twitter goes away?

• Women age distinctly; men uniformly. As a woman ages, she becomes more individual -- her hair color, her laughter, her manner of dress -- all put her in sharp relief from other women. All men age the same. We lose hair, gain weight and generally stumble thru life w/ the bewildered expressions of men who mistake the sliding glass patio door for open and repeatedly slam into the invisible solid.

A jiffy moment or two about time

(587 words)I’m a guy with plenty of time on his hands so I wonder about the passing of time pretty much round the clock.Speaking of clocks, historians say the first one was built in the year 1270. Catching a bus before then must have required infinite patience.It sounds simplistic, but I wonder how they decided clock hands ought to go clockwise. Really, how would they know?If anyone has time to

October Tweets of the Month

                                        • I live in a house with 3 sassy women. I teach a class of undergrads raised to be hyper-sensitive on any number of topics. And I'm under a constant barrage by boneheads eager to engage me in provocative political and social arguments. I hold my tongue so much it's a wonder my fingertips don't have tastebuds.• Some gifted writers enjoy gilded reputations,

When did chocolate milk become nutritionally evil?

 (683 words)I couldn’t tell whether the stranger was mocking me or we were on the verge of bonding over my breakfast beverage of choice.“You don’t see many grown men who feel secure enough to order one of those in a crowded diner,” he said.We were sitting at the counter in the Youngstown Grille, just up the street from the Tin Lizzy and the best breakfast place in Westmoreland County — and I’m

Just not a B'n'B kind of guy

 (610 words)My disdain for the Bed & Breakfast option nearly surfaced when the sweet West Virginia proprietor told us she’d had some guests from Pittsburgh the previous week.I almost blurted out, “Oh, and how did they taste?”But I bit my tongue, unnerved by the prospect that our hosts might be biting it later on.I’m not going to contend all B&B operators are cannibals (well, they are in the

Tweets of the Month(s)

 • Val was rattled this week after seeing a picture of her late mother from when she was 4 years younger than Val is today. Her mother appeared much older. Told Val she shouldn't be surprised. She works very hard at eating right and remaining fit, has a natural beauty and, in fact, looks better today than the day we met. And if I saw her in a bar today, there'd be only one thing that would

I let 15 strangers grill me about my Parkinson's

(895 words)It was last week and I was concluding my first of 30 news gathering classes. I was just about to say the part about remembering to please get your pet spayed or neutered when an afterthought floated to the front of my mind.“Oh, and if you see me limping or my left arm shaking, it’s because I have Parkinson’s Disease.”I didn’t say it to gain pity or deference. It’s just a matter of fact

After 30 years, we bid farewell to our waterbed

(471 words)Val and I did something in the bedroom we’ve even after 30 years of sleeping together had never dreamed we’d try.It was, for us at least, deviant. A little kinky.It was — and there is no way to avoid this — good and hard.I’d better explain before any of you daintier readers become faint at the bawdy turn the blog seems to have taken.We purchased a new mattress. In more than 30 years of

You can again call me Professor

                                     (586 words)The last time I was honored to teach journalism to Point Park University students, I was determined to make a real impression. And I did.A real bad one.The class was three hours of me talking. Three! I showed up 10 minutes late, stumbling, barely coherent. I wanted them to think I was drunk.I know, role of a lifetime. These weren’t privileged