Like the Three Rivers, Pittsburgh is moving forward rapidly, but the nostalgia runs deeper than the rivers combined.  They like their jerseys throwback style with current players’ stitched across the back.  They like their new haircuts 80’s style with a modern clean cut on top and a long flowing mullet covering up the aforementioned player’s name.

Because of this progressive nostalgia, Pittsburghers like Duquesne Beer, which was revived in 2010.  The name takes older Pittsburghers back to childhood, while the taste and quality of the pilsener, which like the city itself has improved drastically since 1972, is capturing the attention of younger ‘Burgh drinkers.

It’s the perfect beer for any Pittsburgher.  Other than nostalgia, the older Pittsburghers like it for the same reason they love Chevy—it’s pure ‘Merican.  Just like Springsteen, Dukes are born in the USA.  This is a rarity in today’s beer market as many bland “American” beers aren’t even American owned anymore.  Pittsburghers like Duquesne because they love being patriotic by keepin’ it local.

Let’s face it: Pittsburgh may be booming, but the economy as a whole sure isn’t.  Fewer and fewer students from the area’s three million colleges (rough estimate) are having trouble landing jobs right out of school.  The Pittsburgh 20-somethings like drinking Dukes because they’re inexpensive.  A case of this hop-infused gold is $16.99 per case, with constant draft and bottle deals at the local hot spots.  What goes better with a 2 a.m. gyro than a dollar Duke?

If you’ve been living under an iron rock for the past year and haven’t yet enjoyed the resurrected Duquesne Beer, then you best be visiting your local distributor or bar and ordering up a Duke.  If you have already tried a Duke, then the same instructions apply to you.

For drink specials, contests, and the latest Duke news, make sure you like Duquesne Beer on Facebook at Facebook.com/DuquesneBeer

And on Twitter at Twitter.com/DuquesneBeer. 

It's a known fact that Ben likes to terrorize NERRRDS!

]]> http://stuffpittsburgherslike.wordpress.com/2010/10/06/ben-roethlis-ogre/feed/ 0 ajgrieco OGRE http://stuffpittsburgherslike.wordpress.com/2010/10/04/24-fire-pits/ http://stuffpittsburgherslike.wordpress.com/2010/10/04/24-fire-pits/#comments Tue, 05 Oct 2010 01:17:25 +0000 ajgrieco http://stuffpittsburgherslike.wordpress.com/?p=220 Continue reading →]]> It’s Fall in the Steel City and that means one thing—BLACKing out under GOLD-leafed trees.  It’s no secret that Pittsburghers like hangin’ ah’t and enjoying belligerent escapades with friends at bars.  While every night is alcohol-friendly to a Pittsburgher, many don’t like having to barhop every night because sometimes they must get up early to tailgate or the grass needs cut in the mornin’. They developed a solution: most Pittsburgh homes have a fire pit in the yard.  What better reason to throw a small get-together than to burn stuff?—possibly stuff picked from the neighbor’s trash that just didn’t look as classy once they took it home.

Pittsburghers like fire pits for many reasons.  For starters, it gives them an excuse to practice their favorite daytime activity—clearing their land.  A good fire pit requires the removal of dead plant life and a level plot of land to prevent the tipping of lawn chairs.  Improperly flattened land will encourage guests to watch stuff burn elsewhere. Since most Pittsburghers are skilled in masonry, their fire pits not only give guests protection from the fire, but can also withstand hurricane winds.

Chopping wood is another manual labor bonus for Pittsburghers.  A Pittsburgher is only as valuable as his wood pile.  When a Pittsburgher happens to drive by a curbside stack of free wooden pallets, it’s like winning the Powerball of burning materials. This is especially advantageous if the Pittsburgher is already driving his truck (he most definitely owns a truck).

The farther the pit is away from the house, the greater chance that friends will return in hopes of a memorable burn session.  Popularity points are gained for proper S’more materials and a nearby horseshoe court, but points are lost for fires created with easily flammable starter logs. An acoustic guitar isn’t necessary, but the presence of one will create a high demand for Jimmy Buffet songs.  So, know the tunes; Pittsburghers hate disingenuous Parrotheads.

Pittsburghers in urban areas also love fires, but their lack of property prevents hosting parties like those in the rugged atmosphere of the suburbs.  Instead, these folks go the industrial route and buy a cast iron chiminea.  These free standing fireplaces are usually found on decks and concrete patios.  Warning: Do NOT buy a chiminea made from rust-free materials.  A rusty chiminea is highly coveted by Pittsburghers for its ability to make any patio look quaint and rustic, and by default, like Better Homes & Gardens (aka classy).

When having special get-togethers, Pittsburghers like to spend the entire previous Saturday scouring through market aisles for exotic pasta, fish, cheese, and bread. This is very important to Pittsburghers because when a guest says “I’ve been looking for this focaccia bread and pancetta at the grocery store for weeks,” the host can say “That’s why I shop in the Strip—you can’t get this selection at Ji’an Iggle. And try the antipasto tray, it’s heavenly.”

More notably, the Strip is home of Wholey’s, Pittsburghers finest purveyor of fis-samiches…outside of churches during lent.  Most Pittsburghers can tell you every detail of the moment when they had their first Wholey’s sandwich.  Drool must be wiped clean thereafter.

The Strip District is also the place where Pittsburghers like to buy all their unlicensed NHL and NFL merchandise.  Pittsburghers like knock-off sports hats and jerseys.  While most people brag about the authenticity of their memorabilia, Pittsburghers pride themselves on how fake yet authentic looking something is. A close replica is better than an exact item, especially at a third of the cost.  This rule of knock-offs also applies to Kangol hats (a fashion accessory worn only by New Jersey club goers, Samuel Jackson, and Pittsburghers) which can also be purchased a Strip District vendor.

Sorry gang! I know it’s been a good while, but I’m finally finished up with the semester.  With that said, many of you probably have relatives coming in for the holidays.  You may want to reconsider how you direct your loved ones to your “Quarterback Santa”-decorated doorstep…

Because many Pittsburghers have lived around the city since birth, they easily travel from one place to another despite the constant construction, surplus of one way streets, and ceaseless traffic jams.  However, Pittsburghers lack the ability to verbally share their navigational skills with anyone in need.  Pittsburghers like giving bad directions.

Pittsburghers never know where they are by name, and thus can’t tell a lost person where to go. They simply are aware that certain streets connect to other streets and eventually they end up “at that place dahn on’a corner.” This is partly due to the fact that Pittsburgh roads all have approximately three different names.  For example: Route 19 can be referred to as West Liberty, Perry Highway, or Washington Road, which intersects and becomes the same road with Route 51, aka Saw Mill Run or Clairton Boulevard.  This confuses Pittsburghers just as much as outsiders.  They don’t bother with streets names.

Pittsburghers like to be spatially oriented.  They can tell someone exactly where to go based on landmarks in the area.  To the dismay of anyone in need of directions, most of the landmarks they are referring to were torn down thirty years ago.

A Pittsburgher might say, “So you go dahn past the old Thrift Drug n’at, cross that one lane bridge, then go like two or three stop lights, take that gradual right, and it’s on your left.  It’s right past where Kaufman’s use to be.”

Make no mistake, Pittsburghers like fish sandwiches all year round, and not all fish sandwich lovers are Catholic.  In fact, most Pittsburgher fish-sandwich-aficionados only like them because it’s fun to say.  Pittsburghers like pronouncing it fis-samich.

Either way, all Pittsburghers like fish fries—Jew, Gentile, rare Cleveland fan.  Right below gambling carnivals, fish fries are the second most anticipated church event.  Imagine four hundred Pittsburghers sitting on folding chairs, eating low-grade cod on soggy buns atop coleslaw, while getting drunk and playfully harassing waitresses. This is the Pittsburgh church experience. Fish fry is to Pittsburgh as night club is to Miami.  Similarly, Miami and Pittsburgh both have an epidemic amount of elderly people, which explains why fish fries begin serving dinner at 4 pm.

This practice known as “spot saving” is most common in Pittsburgh areas like Dormont, Beechview, Brookline, and the South Side, where double parking and one way streets entangle around shoulder-to-shoulder residential buildings. Pittsburghers will save their parking spots with just about any ornament that fits the bill.  This may include, but is not limited to, folding chairs, adirondack lounges, parking cones connected with Christmas lights, stolen construction barrels, large potted plants, wooden pallets, or small children (if it’s a quick trip for cigarettes).

When looking for a parking spot in Pittsburgh, do not mistake the cardboard poster that reads “No Parking: violators will be shot” as legitimate municipality signage.  And it is unlikely that violators will experience gun violence, but instead get “hollered at” and possibly smacked with a wooden spoon.

However, it is perfectly acceptable to steal the spot of a Hummer, as its owner certainly does not live in the aforementioned Pittsburgh areas, and should not be driving their Panzer-sized vehicles on narrow streets anyhow.

Andy Warhol, probably the most world-famous Pittsburgher, once said, “In the future, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes.”  This is especially true in Pittsburgh, except everyone is famous for fifteen minutes, then famous again every eleven minutes right after the weekend forecast, up until seven o’clock.

To be an interviewee on the local news is a life goal of the average Pittsburgher.  Being prepared can help accomplish this goal.  If a Pittsburgher is awakened by sirens, it’s too late.  A Pittsburgher looking to boost face time on channel 3 has to have a keen sense of smell in order to beat the neighbors outside.  Pittsburghers like to be first on the scene, but must not be too groggy in order to form a coherent account of the blaze for when the satellite vans arrive.

Also, news stations often refrain from putting atrocious-looking people in front of a camera (though sometimes that’s all the crop has to offer).  A fully closed robe, properly secured wig/weave, sufficient removal of eye-boogers, and especially the usage of undergarments will ensure talk-time with a cube-wielding microphone.     

Truly prepared Pittsburghers will not forget to put a tape in the VCR before going back to bed in order to eternally capture their fifteen minutes on an outdated analog medium.

Pittsburghers love hanging out with other Pittsburghers.  This seems like a no-brainer, especially when put within the confines of tailgating or rib cook-offs, but for a Pittsburgher to run into another Pittsburgher on vacation is a huge deal.  Seeing someone with recognizable Pittsburgh garb hundreds of miles away from home is a rush, and often the leading factor in determining the awesomeness of a vacation.   

Going to the Outer Banks is a sure fire way to see other Pittsburghers outside their natural habitat.  Pittsburghers go there with this certainty of seeing ‘Burgher brethren, yet still remain excited as if seeing them in New Delhi or Rio.  Striking up conversations with other Pittsburghers is as easy as saying “yinz” in a publically audible tone—a universal Pittsburgh pack call.

When arriving at the beach condominium complex, Pittsburgh children often play ‘count the Pennsylvania license plates.’  Roughly 80% of cars will have PA plates, 65% percent of which will have Super Bowl XL stickers.     

Furthermore, Pittsburgh dads are usually forced to take family vacations.  So when a ‘Burgh dad meets another ‘Burgh dad, they have each made a friend for the week—someone to discuss the bathroom remodeling and possibly share season tickets with months down the road.

In the 70’s, Pittsburgh was a prosperous Rome, and Three Rivers Stadium was its coliseum.  The Steelers played four Super Bowl winning seasons during the 70’s at Three Rivers, which explains the swarms of crying Pittsburgh men when the stadium was demolished.  This was also the last era in which the Pirates won World Series titles—a feat that today is considered impossible even by the most hopeful fans.

Pittsburghers also like the 70’s because the steel industry was still alive.  This was before the days of mill closures, gigantic layoffs, and rap music (three things that traditional Pittsburghers associate with the downturn of the city).  In the 70’s, Pittsburghers had steady incomes and were able to enjoy excesses of the decade like Zeppelin concerts, Dodge Chargers, and Bolivian marching powder (aka. the Devil’s dandruff).  But all the trophies, pennants, and rings were soon meaningless as Pittsburgh economically burned like Gomorrah.

To this day, Pittsburghers have this deeply spiritual belief that the city will one day (possibly at the end of time) return to its glorified state, and all Pittsburghers, past, present, and future, will return to the promised land—the Garden of Iron.  Some believe that the championship titles of the new millennium fulfill ancient prophecies written on a Terrible Towel which mention events that will usher in prosperity before the New Age of Steel.  Pittsburghers’ liking for the 70’s is merely an adoration of hope.