Michael Batchelor

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When I look around Pittsburgh—​the city in which I still live, the city I love—​I see a bigger version of what I’d thought I left back in Ohio. A shinier, busier version. A version that has a Civic Light Opera and all-night diners and beautiful museums. But there is no substantive difference. And I have given up on the idea that there is any place in this country that would be any different.
Punch Me Up To The Gods: A Memoir
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