Pittsburg CA

The most surreal week we spent was in Pittsburg.  A one-night plan turned, a la Hotel California, into longer.

Do you know anything about Pittsburg?  All I thought I knew was that it is a kind of squirrely grubby industrial town with no money and a lot of crime.  But when we pulled into the south section of the marina it was brand spanking new and unnaturally clean.  It turned out we were the first paying guests.

The main building was so new that locks had not yet been put on the public restrooms and they were still caulking between the big cement sidewalk squares.  The harbormaster’s office was located in a houseboat since their offices were not completed.  We walked into town in search of food and found the downtown was in similar reconstruction mode.  Many buildings torn out with only facades left facing Railroad street.  And then we met some of the locals.

One Italian restaurant was open and they let us sit outside with Austin under the table.  Everyone working in that place was so damned cute and affable it felt like Disneyland.  They cooed over Austin as they gave us a fabulous mushroom and Italian fennel sausage pizza and a very nice glass of Pino Grigio.  Why is the Italian PG so much better than California’s?

The next night there was a big street party with a car show and live band.  The townie population was ethnically diverse and EXTREMELY nice, giddy and chatty.  So much so that I dubbed the place Stepford Town.  We had too-sweet BBQ at Dad’s BBQ and gawked at the funny cars.  During a rendition of Billy Jean a young black kid spontaneously started his Michael Jackson moves much to the delight of the audience.  He was very good.

More about Pittsburg tomorrow.  This “blog” is getting novel-like.

There are no comments on this post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: