Showing posts with label Rich Fitzgerald. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rich Fitzgerald. Show all posts

Friday, August 21, 2015

My unending failures to get Pittsburgh a Gene Kelly statue

(729 words)

There was a homeless guy playing a battered old saxophone smack dab in the middle of Pittsburgh’s Market Square Wednesday when I strolled through.
And I’m making the stereotypical assumption he was homeless. He may just have been an eccentric who likes to dress in shabby clothes to bum money.
No matter. I tossed two bills into his case and shambled on wondering about whether it’d be a good career move for me to learn to play a beat-up old saxophone in the desolate center of one of Pittsburgh’s most iconic locations.
How hard could it be to learn the theme from “The Odd Couple?” And I wouldn’t have to spend so much money on fancy clothes.
The only thing that’s holding me back is my concern that playing the saxophone might be even harder on the fingers than typing and I don’t want to wind up in the emergency room.
Of course, the real question is what the hell is a guy who appears to be homeless doing in the center of one of Pittsburgh’s most premier pieces of real estate when by now there ought to be a spectacular statue of Gene Kelly “Singin’ in the Rain.”
Sunday will mark what would have been Kelly’s 103rd birthday.
This is the fourth consecutive year I’ve in vain lobbied for a Kelly statue in Market Square.
But this is only the first year I’m doing so with access to the ears of an important man who can make this happen.
And, oh, how I wish by that I meant Donald Trump
I daily become more convinced that with Trump as president he’ll make wondrous things happen the way Samantha did when she wiggled her spell-casting nose on “Bewitched.”
Alas, I’m not talking about the dealmaker.
I’m talking about Allegheny County executive Rich Fitzgerald.
I met with him in June at a Pittsburgh function involving city tourism.
I spoke for about two uninterrupted minutes, a virtual facetime eternity with the man who is arguably the most important decision maker in western Pennsylvania.
Here is an idealized version of what I said:
“Look, big shot, you’re helping run one of the world’s most beautiful cities. Scores of prestigious publications are near daily listing Pittsburgh on best-of lists. But you’re failing your constituents by leaving the center of Market Square free of eye-catching art.
“You ought to convince city officials to erect a Gene Kelly “Singing in the Rain” statue in Market Square. That guy and that movie are international superstars beloved around the world. Plus, the symbolism is perfectly Pittsburgh. This city is now in sunshine, but singing in the rain is our bones. Pittsburgh doesn’t quit.”
I boldly went on citing the actual dollar value of pop culture statues around the country and finished with an impassioned plea for him to seize this common sense issue for the betterment of the city we both love.
Know what Fitzgerald did?
He pulled up his zipper, turned to me and said, “How about letting a guy finish taking a piss before you bother him, ya jagoff?”
Actually, it didn’t happen that way at all. I just said it did because I think the idea of me pestering an important public official while he — or she! — is taking a leak is funny.
What actually happened was he was stuffing his face by the dessert table.
I said a more polite version of what’s written above. He nodded, mumbled something about it being a good idea and worthy of consideration.
Then he fled to seek wonky sanctuary amidst his hovering flock of sycophantic toadies.
But he knows I’m right. It’s an obvious winner.
I’ve heard the Kelly’s third wife, (they were married from 1990 until his death in ’96), is opposed and that she may be seeking money before granting her approval.
Well, with all due deference to the widow Kelly, city officials ought to tie the old babe up and and stuff her in some closet.
There is no logical reason for opposing this tribute.
A Gene Kelly “Singin’ in the Rain” statue is an idea whose time has come.
All it needs is a can-do visionary who won’t take no for an answer.
I’d talk to Trump, but I fear the result would be a statue of Trump.
Do something today to help make it happen!
Many metal statues start out with grass roots. 

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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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