Present Imperfect

Three Rivers, One Shoelace | May 19, 2004

I have returned from Pittsburgh with aluminum foil wounds and broken heels on the aforementioned new shoes. But a good time was had by all and this weekend made me miss Pittsburgh a lot. They seem to be turning things around in the city culturally, but I'm not sure if that will translate to reversing the population decline. Keeping people in the city means giving them good jobs and I'm not sure if those are readily available. For me, though, the temptation of moving back is that I wouldn't need a full-time office job. Kit and I could start our own business and--horror of horrors--Eric and I could actually afford a nice house.

But you can't go home again, can you?

And there's something to be said for the anonymity inherent in a city of millions. Um, public Weblog aside, obviously...

Unrelated to anything at all, I just got done reading this article about Christie's Conan Doyle auction. Seems there may be foul play involved:

Adding to the sense of unease is the mysterious death of Richard Lancelyn Green, a leading Conan Doyle scholar and private collector, and a vociferous opponent of the sale. On March 27 Mr. Lancelyn Green, 50, a former chairman of the Sherlock Holmes Society of London and the author of several well-received books on Conan Doyle, was found garroted to death, strangled by a shoelace wrapped around a wooden kitchen spoon used to tighten its grip.

Well, either foul play or Mr. Green was having a helluva time tying his shoes. Poor guy.