Andy Warhol and Father’s Day

Pretty tough to make a connection between Andy Warhol and Father’s Day. But I’ll give it a shot. I went to Pittsburgh yesterday to visit with my Mom and Dad and go to the Andy Warhol Museum. If you have the opportunity to visit the museum by all means go. It’s amazing. And if you’re interested, read my daughter Jessica’s blog.

In fact, entering the museum I had one of those life-transforming moments. The admission was $15 for adults and $9 for seniors. Should I or shouldn’t I. Well, for six bucks I caved.

Now I’m a senior citizen. Oh, my.

But I still have great memories of growing up on Pittsburgh’s North Side, now the home of the Warhol exhibit. One of those memories came in 1960. Ninth inning of the 7th game of the World Series. Pirates versus Yankees. At Forbes Field (now defunct). Bill Mazeroski at the plate.

Well, in the spirit of Internet research, for those of you not old enough to remember that day in 1960, go ahead and Google it. But here’s a hint. As we were driving toward the Warhol museum we passed the new Pirates ballpark. It was jammed with people heading to a Kenny Chesney concert. But to enter the ballpark you drive down Bill Mazeroski Way. Folks, they don’t name streets in Pittsburgh for country singers.

And then once in the museum I was struck by a number of things — including the letters that Warhol wrote and received. Imagine that. Actual written letters — in the full richness of your own handwriting. I don’t think I’ve written an actual letter by hand (no computer/typewriter) since Al Gore invented the Internet. Maybe it’s time that I did that again. And maybe it’s even important to the nation that we pick up pen and pencil and write in complete sentences again. Here’s an interesting article in The Washington Post this morning: “The Fate of the Sentence: Is the Writing on the Wall?

Andy Warhol graduated from Schenley High School in Pittsburgh. I graduated a few years later from Perry High School.

When we left the museum I drove back through my old neighborhood, past Perry High School, past the home I grew up in, past the Norwin Lounge (now defunct) where I spent many a pleasant evening drinking with and talking to friends. When you get to be a senior citizen you start to make little side trips like that.

And then we went and had dinner with my Mom and Dad. Happy belated Mother’s Day. And Happy Father’s Day.

There. I made the connection. Told ya.


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