That's Church

Reader DW turned me on to this little letter-writing war going on over whether or not it is offensive to call a group of people “you guys” even when there are women in the mix.

You know PittGirl’s feelings on that, right, you guys?  Because don’t I always call you guys, you guys?

I do, you guys.

So listen to this particular letter:

It is demeaning to every lady to be greeted by a waiter, or even worse by a waitress, with the words “Hi you guys. How are you doin’ and what would you like?”

I will often stare at the perpetrator and say, “I am not a guy, I am a lady.” Unfortunately, they look at me as thought my head is not screwed on straight, but then they realize that I am serious and fumble around with an apology.

I have complained to many restaurant owners, but I really do not think they understand.

Maybe little signs can be made with the words, “I am not a ‘guy.’ I am a lady.” We can carry the sign in our purse and set it on a restaurant table if it proves to be necessary

Or maybe if every woman who agrees with the me and the Foleys writes the Post-Gazette, calls a talk show or finds another way to get the message across, the idea will hopefully sink in.

Is there someone in our wonderful city of Pittsburgh who is creative and willing to mass produce such a small easel sign? We need to educate not just restaurant wait staff but all service personnel and especially their employers.

Thank you for listening.

– FRANCES COHEN-KNOERDEL, Venetia

I think she’s serious about this little easel idea of hers.  Oy.  Also, SHE COMPLAINS TO RESTAURANT OWNERS?!

She actually asks for the owner and complains about the fact that her waitress, a young lady who was probably sweet as pie and gave the best service she could, had the audacity to say, “You guys.”

Thoughts:

1. It is absolutely okay for her to be bothered by this, because I’m sure there are things that bother PittGirl that you guys are all, “Well, that wouldn’t bother me.”  Not the point.  The point is, maybe she’s overreacting about it?

2.  The only way PittGirl would ever dare to complain to a restaurant owner would be if I witnessed my waiter peeing into my soup, and even then, I’d probably just leave without paying and never go back.

3.  In other languages, Spanish at least, a mix of males and females always gets the masculine ending.  Big frickin’ deal.

Two cousins, one a boy and one a girl are always “primos” not “primas.”

4.  Lastly, I’m not sure, you guys, but I think Frances Cohen-Knoerdel might have a stick up her butt.

I could be wrong.

Yesterday, as my family gathered for the Pens game, sitting out on my sister’s deck enjoying the sunshine, listening to the sounds of neighborhood kids playing hockey in the street, the dog barking because he’d really like to get his chops on that there hockey ball, the grill crackling with peppers, steaks, and cobbed corn, we began discussing what was to come. The Game. Oh, God. The Game! [hand wringing]

My mother, the world’s greatest fair weather fan (I’m going to buy her a necklace charm with that on it), was sure the Pens were going to lose in epic fashion. She regularly will bust out at least once a game with, “Sometimes I hate the Penguins.”

My father was doubtful they could pull it off, as was my brother-in-law. My sister was silent, probably because she was imagining dirty things that have to do with Sidney Crosby.

I was positive. They are winning the game. There is no way they’re losing today. You just watch. They’re going to come out with fire.

From the grill he was manning, my brother-in-law let out some kind of snort. Seated at the table across from me, my father gave me one of those looks you give a little kid who swears that she just saw the Easter Bunny in the backyard having a smoke with Elvis. My mother laughed and shook her head at poor delusional PittGirl. “Oh, PittGirl actually believes they’re going to win.”

I said, “All y’all are HATERS.”

And I got a lecture that no, we’re not haters, we’re just realistic.

Yeah, well PBTHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Huh? Huh? What did I say?

I’ll tell you what I said to my family. I said, “Listen, we may not be the better team, but the better team does NOT always win. We don’t need to be the better team; we just need to figure out a way to win games.”

When Sidney Crosby scored his first goal, which, would you look at his face?

My family’s faces were like that to the power of ten. Freaking out. You could hear the neighborhood freaking out. People screaming. Dogs barking. Angels getting their wings.

My sister said, exactly like this, word for word, kind of quietly then louder so her husband could hear it: “I would totally have Sidney Crosby’s baby and I wouldn’t even make him pay child support.”

Today, I think we’d all like to have Sidney Crosby’s babies.

One down. Three to go. Keep the faith, because at some point, Geno is totally going to show up.

1. Pens. Pens. Pens. Tonight is the night they figure their shit out. Tonight before the game, someone, maybe Gary Roberts, is going to shake the hockey back into Evgeni Malkin. Slap the fire back into Sidney Crosby. Kick the will back into Marian Hossa.

Some outside coverage:

• The gap between the Penguins and the Red Wings further than from Earth to Mars says the Ice Man.
• Yahoo Sports accuses the Pens of “whining and crying.”
• It’s all Geno’s fault, kinda says CBC.
• Pens fans everywhere are FREAKING OUT, kinda says the Free Press.
• Maxime Talbot hates the Red Wings and he’s not afraid to say it.

2. Also, did you guys notice that Max Talbot is looking more and more like Jesus every day?

3. While Ryan Malone looks more and more like he fell out of the movie “Seven Brides for Seven Brothers” which, GREAT CHILDHOOD MOVIE MEMORY!

Bless yore beautiful hide!

4. If only for today, I was allowed to have two big goons hold a person still so that I could properly aim my pointy shoe as I violently kicked it forward toward that person’s donkey omelets, today, it would be whoever stole this rig.

5. Mark Madden got his butt fired. Again. I’m very meh about that because I don’t ever listen to Mark Madden. Maybe you care.

(h/t Mysterious M)

6. KDKA’s Jon Burnett at his high school prom.

I can’t believe I’m going to write this, but he looks kinda fly. He could teach Lukey a thing or two about wearing a hat.

(h/t Kevin)

7. Speaking of fashion, reader MmeG wrote:

Have you seen this? Julianne Moore was totally giving the Burgh a shout out from the red carpet at Cannes! How else can you explain those hideous black and gold feathers??? She looks like a nouveau-riche linebacker’s wife. But, she likes us! She really likes us!

Wow. Now that is fug.

8. Maybe you’re not aware of him, so I’ll mention Jero. He’s a Pittsburgh-bred Enka singer which is kinda like saying “she’s a Hawaii-bred downhill skier.”

He was featured on The Next Page recently and also in the Washington Post.

Here he is doing his schmaltzy thing:

(h/t Traci)

Pittsburgh Mayor Luke Ravenstahl’s administration said yesterday that sending a police detective with him to Detroit over the weekend was a reasonable concession to security concerns.

“You’re sending him to Detroit with 20,000 rabid Red Wings fans, and you’re not going to send security?” said Public Safety Director Michael Huss.

Mr. Huss said it was his decision to have the city provide a Chevy Impala, gas, and two nights in a hotel for Detective Dominick Sciulli, who will receive some overtime pay for his work on the trip.

Mr. Huss said that once Mr. Ravenstahl got to Detroit, the city’s police provided an additional bodyguard. Detective Sciulli was able to attend the games free of charge, as a courtesy extended to security professionals.

Are you seeing what I’m seeing?

1.  I’m seeing this first:

You’re sending him to Detroit with 20,000 rabid Red Wings fans, and you’re not going to send security?

Wait.  I’M not sending him to Detroit.  YOU’RE not sending him to Detroit.  THE CITY didn’t send him to Detroit.

He sent his own self to Detroit.  It’s not like he was attending a Mayor’s conference for crying out loud.  It was a hockey game or two.

2.  And I’m seeing this:

Mr. Huss said that once Mr. Ravenstahl got to Detroit, the city’s police provided an additional bodyguard.

So he needed two bodyguards to protect him from the 20,000 rabid Red Wing fans hell bent on killing our mayor?

WTF?

Would someone please tell Luke Ravenstahl that he is not the President of the United States?

Also, when PittGirl is mayor and she decides to travel to a Steelers or Penguins or Pirates … HAHAH!  Funny, PittGirl … game, I’ll have all of my husbands to protect me, free of charge to you, the gracious taxpayers that elected me.

Me and my little army of smokin’ hotness.

The next time any of you want to take me to task for my general dislike of UPMC’s corporate policies, please remember the other emails I get from UPMC employees complaining that they’ve not seen a cost of living raise in quite a while; please remember that UPMC, rumor has it, is going to ask that the students that receive Pittsburgh Promise money be called UPMC Scholars; please remember things like this:

The sign is costing the nonprofit UPMC $750,000, according to a document submitted last year to the planning commission.

“A lot of stars have to be in alignment for this lift to take place,” Mr. Kolano said.

Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars to put their name on a building that’s not even named after them.

“The helicopter company told us they chose the right-size helicopter for the installation,” said UPMC spokesman Paul Wood in an e-mail. “However, they are looking to use a more powerful helicopter to secure the rest of the letters in a more efficient (i.e., faster) manner.

“You need almost windless conditions to get it placed.”

That little “(i.e., faster)” he stuck in there … boy did that make me laugh and I don’t even know why.

Could be the hysteria setting in.

Anyway, bite me, King Kong.  May the wind never die.