Showing posts with label Gene Kelly statue Pittsburgh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gene Kelly statue Pittsburgh. Show all posts

Monday, March 21, 2016

TV, movies, DWTS & identity of Pittsburgh's greatest athlete



“Dancing With The Stars” returns tonight and I again vow to not watch until network promos tease that Dick Cheney will be puttin’ on the Ritz.
Lots of my fellow Pittsburgh Steeler fans, however, will be watching to see star wide receiver Antonio Brown. He’s in a few short years become one of our greatest and most popular athletes, right up there with Hall of Famer Hines Ward, who won the show’s ’11 season.
• The show highlights what a great athlete you need to be to succeed as a dancer. And that’s part of the argument I’ll use to reveal the identity of the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history. Answer at bottom.
• While I won’t be watching DWTS, we have been watching a lot of TV. There’s “The People vs. O.J. Simpson,” (very good); “Better Call Saul,” (I like the stuff when Mike’s on, but watching it makes me miss “Breaking Bad;” and “Walking Dead,” (crackling dialogue, but I wish I was refined enough to be turned off by society-degrading gruesomeness — I’m not).
• Two shows I really love are “The Grinder,” starring Rob Lowe and Fred Savage,” and “Last Man on Earth,” starring Will Forte. “Grinder” is as funny as anything I’ve seen on TV. Just uproarious. I keep thinking the premise — self-delusional Hollywood TV attorney comes home to join brother’s Boise law firm — will thin, but it never does. It’s perfectly over-the-top.
• Dick Groat isn’t the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history. He is one of only 13 players to have his number retired by Duke University men’s basketball, was an 8-time MLB all-star and the MVP of the 1960 world champion Pittsburgh Pirates. I’m partial to Groat, too, because he owns Champion Lakes Golf Course near Ligonier, one of my favorite courses from my entire life. I have many great memories of going there with my Dad and watching the old man melt any time the great Groat would say, “It’s my old friend, Paul!” He treated my Dad like a king. That makes him a great guy, but not Pittsburgh’s greatest athlete.
• Not only have I been watching a lot of TV, I’m now on it. Sort of. My hour-long talk last week was filmed for Bethel Park TV. The talk went really well and got a lot of laughs and a wonderful ovation. But you’d barely know it from the YouTube clip you can check out right here. Because the audience wasn’t micced it seems like I’m standing on a stage blabbing aloud to myself. I swear that’s not the case. Honest. I’m looking into adding the laugh track they use for “Two Broke Girls” to really juice it up.
• Been looking for a reason to buy “The Last Baby Boomer: The Story of the Ultimate Ghoul Pool?” How about this: Send me $20 and I’ll send you a signed (and personally corrected) copy and will throw in for free a promo card that’ll entitle a tech-savvy friend for a free digital download. Be one of the first 10 to send me an e-mail at storyteller@chrisrodell.com and we’ll get the ball rolling.
• Mario Lemieux isn’t the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history, but he’s done more for the city than any other. Besides being our best hockey player he twice saved the Penguins from moving out of town — and we love our hockey here. Plus, he beat cancer and remains one of the most inspirational stories in the city. Still, not the greatest athlete.
• My wife and 9-year-old loved “Zootopia,” and Val, Josie and I loved “The Walk,” about Frenchman Philippe Petite and his 1974 high wire walk between the newly-opened World Trade Center towers. Joseph Gordon-Levitt stars and, as always is wonderful. Also, we just again watched “Whiplash,” about a tyrannical band teacher. The starring role earned J.K. Simmons the Oscar for best actor in a supporting role. He is riveting. Also, great dialogue.
• I am not the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history. I was captain of my high school hockey team and have achieved some things hungover that many far more accomplished athletes never could. But, no, it’s not me.
• Roberto Clemente isn’t the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history. Neither is Tony Dorsett, Arnold Palmer, Mike Ditka, Roger Kingdom or Honus Wagner. No, the greatest athlete in Pittsburgh history was someone who didn’t even engage in professional athletics. His name is …
• Gene Kelly. I’ve for years argued Pittsburgh should erect a Gene Kelly “Singin’ in the Rain” statue at Market Square. It’s never happened because Pittsburgh has always been at heart a blue collar city that considers its sports heroes to be superior to our artistic ones.
That perception is changing with the popularity of DWTS.
And by those measures there can be no doubt that native son Kelly is the greatest. Watch him in either “Singin’ in the Rain,” or “An American in Paris.” Clearly, he could catch a long touchdown pass or track down flies in centerfield, but none of our sports heroes can do what he does.
Grinder rests.

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Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Knock-Knock: Who's there? Pittsburgh needs a Gene Kelly statue


Last evening offered more compelling evidence of why I should never try to be serious.

I was haranguing Allegheny County chief executive Rich Fitzgerald about what a  money maker it’d be if Pittsburgh dedicated an iconic Gene Kelly “Singin’ in the Rain” statue right in the middle of Market Square, the central Pittsburgh place so oddly desolate and lacking artistic focus erecting a gallows would be a cheery improvement.

I’ve been pumping this idea for about five years now and in this case, I’m absolutely correct.

Other pop culture statues — from Rocky in Philly to The Bronze Fonz in Milwaukee — are enormously popular and have drawn droves of tourists to their towns. A Milwaukee tourism official told me in 2011 it cost $90,000 in donations to construct the statue that in its first year earned $9.5 million in worldwide media value.

I contend a statue of Pittsburgh native Kelly hanging from a lamppost would be the greatest of them all.

The American Film Institute in 2007 ranked “Singin’ in the Rain” as the fifth greatest American movie of all time. Experts ranked it ahead of “Gone With The Wind” (6), and “The Wizard of Oz,” (10) with only “Citizen Kane,” “The Godfather,” “Casablanca” and “Raging Bull” ranked (in order) better than the great Kelly flick.
Not a man or woman alive can’t relate at some level to that euphoric dance, in essence an upraised middle finger to anyone who finds themselves caught without an umbrella in the crapstorm of life.
And it’s perfectly Pittsburgh, a city that’s endured hard times and always come back swinging.
I was telling Fitzgerald this at a gathering of Pennsylvania hospitality leaders. They invited me to a board meeting to discuss me addressing their group in the fall.
Their leadership just loves my book and are very enthused about hearing me talk.
They think I’m very funny.
Fitzgerald thought I was just plain weird.
Who could blame him?
He’s used to being asked questions about traffic, housing, snow removal — the daily mundanities of running a great metropolis.
“Well, you make some very good points,” he said, backing away. “I appreciate your interest.”
He sounded sincere, but I’d lost him. I’d had a chance to make an impression on an important man and I blew it. 
Maybe I should have broke the ice with a Knock-Knock joke.
I’ve spontaneously begun thinking up lots of Knock-Knock jokes. They come to me straight out of the blue. It’s driving my family nuts. For instance:
“Knock-Knock.”
Who’s there?
“Denise.”
Denise who?
“Da knees are below da hips.”
Why a guy who comes up with jokes like that ever feels a need to be serious is a mystery.
In fact, I told mostly jokes with everyone I met last night and people seemed to really like me.
I think I owe it all to Juan and Amal.
I heard about the boys from Dave, the owner of The Pond and a master joke teller.
He told me the boys were identical twins born to parents too impoverished to care for them so they were given up for adoption. An Egyptian couple adopted one and named him Amal; the other was adopted by Mexicans who named him Juan.
The boys grew up in different worlds and remained a poignant memory for their birth parents.
Then one day Juan succumbed to natural curiosity and tracked down the address of his biological parents. He sent them a letter with a smiling selfie. The letter said he understood their decision and was grateful for the life they’d given him. He said he was strong, healthy, a straight A student. And he wanted to meet them.
The mother broke down in tears. She was overjoyed. She clutched the picture of the handsome son to her breast. 
But she admitted her fulfillment was incomplete. There was still the other boy. She told her husband she now ached to see him, too.
“It’s all right, honey,” said the father. “The boys are identical twins. If you’ve seen Juan, you’ve seen Amal.”
So there’s a good clean joke for you to share next time you want to make a good impression.
Me, I think I’ll spend the rest of the day trying to think of a Knock-Knock joke with a Gene Kelly statue punchline for next time I run into Fitz.

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