Vol. 28 of Thursday Third Things
Vacation Recommendations
THURSDAY THIRD THINGS: VOL 28
Your curated weekly newsletter of adventures worth taking & stories worth telling
I’ve been on vacation since July 4 and have consumed so much less media because of it (THANK GOD). Please enjoy this extra special edition of Thursday Third Things where I just tell you about nice things that I’ve done or read or experienced whilst on vacation.
PLUS. Here’s your teaser for Tuesday’s essay: I did not make it 130 miles down the Allegheny River. I only made 67 miles. That story, and more, coming up next. As Ira Glass would say, STAY WITH US.
Pop By Your Hometown
I always tell people I grew up in Pittsburgh, but I ACTUALLY grew up in a small town just north of Pittsburgh called Butler. Butler is, quite frankly, nothing to write home about. But that’s not a bad thing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call it charming, but it does have big beautiful old trees, brick homes, rolling hills, and a penchant for somehow not changing AT ALL in 30 years (maybe even longer). It’s where my parents, grandparents, and even some great grandparents grew up, which gives it this sort of winding legacy where you somehow feel known without really having done anything at all (hence, Semanco Avenue).
I seriously wish I could explain to you why a red Mustang is parked next to this dilapidated apartment building where my grandparents grew up, but alas! I cannot.
I haven’t been back to my hometown in almost a decade. My mom moved further south when I was a senior in college and then my grandma moved further south not long after when my grandpa died. Then my mom’s brother moved to State College and after that, there wasn’t much of a reason to go back to Butler.
However, last weekend I finally had a reason and it’s because my friend who joined me for this Pennsylvania trip needed to rent a car and the easiest location was good ol’ Butler, PA. So off we went down memory lane — me guiding her through all of these places I could not believe were somehow still lodged in the back of my brain, her being a good sport as I shouted, “Pull over here, that was my house growing up! Look down the street, that’s where my mom grew up! This was where my grandparents moved after the kids moved away. That was my first boyfriend’s house over there!”
Lots of memories came rushing back, both good and bad, and I welcomed them all like old friends. “Ah yes, good to see you again middle school insecurity! Ho-ho! I FORGOT what it was like to have no boundaries! Stupendous.” And on and on and on.
I have no qualms with Butler, but because I ended up at Pitt for college, I’ve associated myself with the city of Pittsburgh over the years than Western PA more broadly. It was nice to be back and be reminded of how small I once thought the world was and how much I had grown.
Go Sailing With Your Mom
One of my mom’s greatest qualities is her ability to grow and learn. We joke a lot about my intense levels of determination, but…I had to learn that from someone, right?
My mom learned to sail in her 50s on a whim and there’s nothing more magical than being an adult watching your also adult mother learn new things AND GETTING REALLY GOOD AT THEM.
Mom raced me around Lake Arthur a few weekends ago in her Trac14 beach cat in some formidable winds that had the old men on the shore aggressively handing out unsolicited advice to my very capable mother while obviously feeling too nervous to sail their own boats which rocked in the wind, beached up on the sandy shore.
I don’t know the first thing about sailing but I do know that we were moving very fast and getting very wet from the high waves. When my mom said duck, I ducked beneath the boom and yanked the jib line (Boom? Jib line?? Is that right mom??) and we twirled around the lake like an open flower petal on the surface of the water. After an hour or so, she landed the boat back in between the boat lineup on the shore with ease, deconstructed the mast and all the other bits I don’t know the names of, and backed up the boat trailer into the lake in one fell swoop before neatly tucking the boat away in its parking spot.
If your mom (or some other parental figure) learned some new skill later in life, I highly recommend going and doing that thing with them while you both still can.
Also, I rescued a turtle off the road. For the life of me couldn’t figure out how to fit that vignette in here, so here ya go!
Go On A Nice After Dinner Hike In The Near Dark, Admire The Fireflies, and Warm Up By The Fire
Yep, not much more to say on that.
See Contemporary Art
My grandma is an artist (a quite good one at that) and once said of contemporary art, “I just don’t get what all the fuss is about,” which is one of the funniest things ever (especially because my aunt is also an artist as well as an art historian and it drives her up the wall — AND because I love contemporary art and really love when art frustrates people, hence why I burst out laughing when a woman at a contemporary art museum in Pittsburgh looked at a gorgeous set of dangling copper pipes from a gaping hole in the ceiling gently clanging off of each other making the most ghostly sounds and said very loudly, “How the fuck is this art?”)
On the industrialization of the human body. I mean, c’mon, that’s gotta make you feel SOMETHING??!!!
After our failed paddle board adventure, I took my friend Phebe to Pittsburgh’s Mattress Factory where we saw some incredibly haunting and reverent pieces, one of which helped me solidify an idea for a book (more to come on that) and made me tear up with its beauty. I go to the Mattress Factory every time I’m in Pittsburgh and I’m never disappointed.
Randomly Text Your Friends
While sipping a cocktail on a Pittsburgh restaurant patio, Phebe said, “Did you know Lauren’s in Cleveland now?”
To which I said, “I kind of remember that, but totally forgot. Did you know Cleveland is only like two hours from here?”
To which Phebe said, “You should absolutely reach out to Lauren.” Lauren, Phebe, and I all lived together in Boulder for a few glorious years just before the pandemic. We’ve spread around and mucked up our little lives quite a bit since then, but still love each other so much.
Lauren responded immediately. “I’ll be there tonight!” she said.
To which I responded, “Hahaha amazing, here’s the address,” AS A JOKE BECAUSE I THOUGHT SHE WAS JOKING. She wasn’t joking and two hours later she arrived at my family’s cabin in Slippery Rock, PA and the three of us were sipping beers on the deck, catching up on the last year of each other’s lives. It was serendipitous and immensely gorgeous and everything I dreamed it could be.
