mark mangino is the pride of new castle

My car is my sanctuary. I always look forward to a long drive. I can dream about my career (ha!) or catch up with an old album (lately Carole King's "Tapestry.") Sometimes I zone out to the point where I suddenly realize I'm belting out a passionate rendition of "It's Too Late" with overemphatic hand gestures and steering wheel slaps, completely oblivious to the passengers of passing cars. I don't think I'm alone in my tendency to forget other people can see me in my car. Who hasn't witnessed the occassional nose pick? Or uh, been the picker themselves?


For that matter, who hasn't jerked themselves off thrusting their pelvis so high that your penis becomes visible to those in passing cars? Eh, nobody? Maybe not so normal?


This is what my sister and I witnessed this past Saturday. We're driving down 79, heading to Pittsburgh for our annual Christmas tea with my mom, sisters, and aunts. All is going well. We're catching up, talking about the last couple of months. I casually look behind me in the rearview mirror and see this jerky, rapid movement coming from the driver's side of a silver Chevy pickup truck pulling up along us.

"Em, look at this guy behind us," I say. "In the truck. Is he getting roadhead???"

"What, oh my gosh!" She wheels around to see what's going on.

So, at this point, we're in three lane traffic approaching the city. I'm in the fast lane and the truck's in the middle lane and traffic is heavy enough that both lanes are moving in a kind of ebb and flow motion. The truck appears to be coming up quickly on our right, so I tell Emily to check it out.

"I just saw a penis!!" Em screams. The car goes wild. We start freaking out. From this point on, we can't seem to get away from the silver Chevy. And crossing Veterans Bridge he pulls up behind us, with what we're sure is the intent to follow, attack, and sexually assault us.

We made it safely to the Victorian Tea House on the Southside and it proved to be a lovely tea, despite the party in front of us stealing all the tea hats. And really, what better topic to discuss over tea than exhibitionist truck drivers?

Merry Christmas everybody.

JOY SPASMS IN JAMA

This'll be a quickie since I have to meet some people for a drink in about fifteen minutes. I'm meeting myself for a drink right now, sipping on a pivo and calling the credit card company on skype, (still unfinished business from lost wallet.) I am flying out of the Czech Republic tomorrow and going home to the United States for Christmas. I don't have money to buy a book, so I'm stuck on the plane with my Essential Kierkegaard. But the thing with Kierkegaard is I need to let each essay soak for a few days. If i try to cram his eight remaining discourses into a three-flight, 15-hour hell, I might come away (gasp) hating Kierkegaard! Maybe I'll try to chat up people next to me! No, I'm not that cruel. But really, with no light reading and a broken ipod, things are looking dim. I might have to drink myself home.

Despite what seems like a terribly mind-numbing day I have tomorrow, I'm actually excited...to travel. I like it. I like airplane food. I like watching episodes of King of Queens and Everybody Loves Raymond (and in the case of Air India, a visual force-feeding of Failure to Launch; they showed it 6 times!!!) I like sitting in airport bars and being hit on and bought drinks by 50 year old men. I like watching people, because you see the rainbow of emotion in an airport. I like the duty-free shop. I like being alone and forced to entertain myself, like when I was little and the power went out. And now that i think about it, that's why, despite some things have gone wrong the last couple of months, I liked the last couple of months. The broken elevator, washing machine, heat, water, lights, etc. have made me more resourceful and responsible. Which makes me pat myself on the back here in the middle of the bar. But I especially like travelling this time, because I have never been so excited to go home. I haven't felt this way since I was 12 and going to Disneyworld. Maybe I've never felt this way.

I think I am in love with Pittsburgh. And as much as I'd love to develop this thought, I really have to go. Na Shledanou. See you January 2, Praha.