the union project

Frank and I like to talk about all the ways Pittsburgh’s changed since our parents were our age, and there’s a lot to be said for the city’s development. Good jobs abound, better opportunities leap at you from every corner, you can get from Downtown to the airport in fifteen minutes on the train. But then there are the things that don’t change about Pittsburgh, comforting things that you know you can always come back to, like the kielbasa and cheese at Primanti’s or observing that even during the off-season, approximately 30% of the population is wearing some sort of Steelers paraphernalia at any given time.

The reason I bring this up is because a good friend of mine got married a few days ago. We’ve been friends since high school and were roommates for two years during college. I was the maid of honor and she was a beautiful bride, but going into the wedding I didn’t really know what to expect. I mean, she was really taking a giant step forward into adulthood. Sure, I guess I’m an adult, what with being almost 24 and renting my own apartment and holding down a full-time professional job, but marriage? Marriage just seals the deal, totally solidifies the fact that you are a true adult.

I needn’t have been so worried, though, as usual. The wedding was lovely, everyone was happy, and there were those little Pittsburgh things that kept me feeling like I really belonged there. Things like the big steel tubs of tortellini and roasted red potatoes at the buffet table. Or the fact that one of the first songs played during the reception was “Here We Go Steelers” and everyone in the place knew all the lyrics. Or that, even though I knew only her immediate family, everyone in attendance was good-natured and friendly, striking up conversations with Frank and me at every turn (not unlike the people who ask you, upon arrival at the bus stop, if their bus has come by and then proceed to tell you all about their day).

It made me happy to realize that even as Pittsburgh grows and changes, there will always be those small things that I’ll immediately recognize as part of my roots.