Apparently, Lukey moved to Westwood.
I don’t know where Westwood is. It might as well be Azerbaijan because I have about as good of a chance of finding it on a map.
But, anyway, Lukey moved. No big deal.
Except, Lukey is MAKING it a big deal:
I spent the better part of last week trying to reach the mayor on this, but a spokeswoman finally left this message on my voice mail Friday afternoon: “He’s not interested in talking about where he lives. He considers that his private life.”
Big. Giant. Eyeroll.
I’m sure Brian O’Neill wasn’t calling to ask, “Mr. Mayor, where exactly do you live in Westwood? What is your address? Is it a friend of Kevin’s house? Are you shackin’ up with a cougar? Did Ron Burkle hook you up? Boxers or briefs?”
All Brian O’Neill wanted to know was does the Mayor live in Westwood and how does he like it there?
And Lukey is all, “[Jedi mind trick hand wave] You never saw me. I was never here. This message will self-destruct. I am your father.”
Geez, Mr. Mayor, how about being a little bit more transparent? How about not making a big deal out of what is actually a big Nothing, because otherwise, you’re making us think it’s Something? How about next time, you have Joanna say, “Yes! The mayor has chosen one of Pittsburgh’s fine 90 neighborhoods in which to make his new home. He has chosen Westwood and while I’m sure you’ll respect his privacy at his new home considering he has a young son, he’ll be glad to answer any questions you have about why he chose that particular neighborhood.”
[takes a bow]