Sad day, PittGirl hangs it up

How sad that I should break my silence with news that one of the brightest, most talented, and entertaining bloggers I've had the pleasure to read has abruptly closed her blog.
The burghblog has been taken down.
Here's a portion of PittGirl's final post:

I don’t know what I want to say here, but I know I have to say something so I’ll just start writing and you guys read along, okay?

I’ve got to say goodbye to you all.

And that really sucks and I’d be lying if I said I’m not incredibly sad about it because I didn’t realize how much a part of my life this blog has been for three years. It seemed like a little side thing I did and not a very important thing, but now that I’m cutting it away, I’m realizing what a big cut and a deep cut it really is. And how much it is hurting to let it go.

I hope you’ll trust me that I’m doing what I must do, for my comfort level, for my privacy and for my life.

Her perspectives on all things Pittsburgh will be missed. It may be her success that led to this sudden end. Pittsburgh Magazine featured her in a recent cover story, and she was to have been the focus of an article in another Pittsburgh-themed site, Pop City, from where we learn more about why the anonymous PittGirl called it quits:

I don't know what I can tell you other than my identity has been compromised and that means shutting it (the blog) down because of my job. It's important that I be proactive in removing all traces of my writing from the web if there is any risk of my identity becoming public.

Therefore, the blog was nuked this morning after five days of deliberation on my part. It wasn't an easy decision, but I know that it was the right decision for me. I can't say who learned my identity because I don't want that person being the subject of inquiries as to his/her knowledge. It's better this way.

Dennis Roddy, a writer for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, a journalist I've known for decades offers this succinct recap:

In a retirement worthy of Greta Garbo, PittGirl, the sassy and clued-in high priestess of Pittsburgh blogging, called it quits yesterday in a bid to preserve her status as an anonymous celebrity.

I, for one, enjoyed the fact that she chose to remain anonymous. What is most surprising, I guess, is that she managed to retain that status for so long.
We'll miss you PittGirl. I do hope you find a way to share your voice with us on your terms.

Class act

"Tonight — tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Senator Obama — whether they supported me or Senator Obama.

I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president. And I call on all Americans, as I have often in this campaign, to not despair of our present difficulties, but to believe, always, in the promise and greatness of America, because nothing is inevitable here.

Americans never quit. We never surrender.

We never hide from history. We make history." -- John McCain, November 3, 2008.


God bless America.

(h/t Deacon Greg)

Vote!

Update: 10:30 PM
So much for my prognostication skills. The Obama Machine did a stellar job of getting out the urban and youth vote. Much higher turnout that I would have thought. Overall turnout seems extremely high - and despite the outcome, that is a good thing for our nation. We will survive four years of BO, but I suspect it is not going to be pretty.

And John Murtha has no intention of going quietly into the long goodnight. With just over a quarter of the votes counted, the controversial Democrat is pulling away with a landslide victory over challenger Bill Russell. I picked the winner, but missed badly on the margin.

----------
Do it.


Predictions:
McCain takes PA, VA, OH, FL. Tops 330 Electoral votes.
Murtha takes PA 12th by <>
Keith Obamarman melts down live on MSNBC.
That is all.

Autumn in Washington DC

On the job at an event in DC.
I snapped this picture with my phone. It was a Marine helicopter that had just unloaded members of the news media. Another chopper landed nearby and disgorged a party of men in dark suits. VIP of some sort. In the foreground is my work project - a tricked out Hummer filled to the gills with IT gear.

Palin versus Biden

If only . . .
Wouldn't it be great if they put away their rhetoric and decided the winner in ritual combat, like this:

Best Steeler Recap Ever

Yes, I said the best ever. Now get thee over to the Burgh Blog and readeth.

PittGirl, if I can't be one of your self united husbands, can I be your adopted crazy old uncle?

Down the memory hole

The was geek cool chic back in the day. Anybody remember how to use a sliderule? Ingenious devices.
Slip one of these babies into your plastic pocket protector!

(Photo credit: The Slide Rule Museum.)

Sunny Florida

I'm in Tampa, Florida for a conference for telemedicine. Tele-what?
In brief, it is the use of telecommunications technologies to deliver health care remotely. This conference is focused on how to make use of various bio sensors in "smart homes" to better care for individuals who require regular access to the health care system. If you're so inclined, link here for more information.
The hotel is near the Convention Center, along a marina. The picture shows the view from my floor.

9/11 + seven years

Each of us remembers where we were and what we were doing when the world as had had known it ceased to exist on that otherwise beautiful late summer morning. I've not talked much or written about that day, what one of my old psychology professors called a "flashbulb memory."

I was in our television studio / distance learning classroom teaching a teacher how to interact with students who were elsewhere (in the physical sense.) The first word was that there had been some kind of horrible aviation accident in New York, and so we continued the morning's lesson. Then another phone call from our receptionist a few minutes later ended any pretense of productive work that day.

I remember walking across the campus from the studio to my office. It was so still. Earily still, as iff the plants, the birds, and the wind all knew something big was happening. Back at the office, the conference room was full; coworkers watched the live feeds and tape loops from CNN, Fox News, NBC, and CBS. I saw the first replay of the second plane, and then the news out of Washington of a fire at the Pentagon. Within a few minutes, it was confirmed; a third plane into a building.

United Flight 93 had just a few minutes prior flown overhead (not directly above our campus, but nearly over my home about 20 miles away) - the battle for control of the cockpit apparently underway. We knew nothing of this at the moment. The telephone, cell phone, and Internet networks were straining under a massive traffic load, but I managed to get through to my wife. She was worried about our daughter who was driving back from Baltimore that morning. Then came word of a possible fourth hijacked plane; a plane that might be over Western Pennsylvania on a heading for Washington. A few moments later, the local TV station (the one where I had worked for 20 years) began reporting a plane crash in Somerset County. I knew this had to be that mystery fourth plane. Within a couple of hours, the local station was showing live shots of the crash scene. I watched the reporter doing what would have been my job three years earlier. Jon Myers was a tall kid; he grew up that day, reporting from the crash scene. It was at that moment I realized that I did not miss the news business; I was happy to be a consumer. And the news on this day was overwhelming. "Only" 3,000 dead in the collapse of the World Trade Center. It was miraculous that the toll was not higher, but even so, wrenching to the mind and soul.

Later we began hearing reports of heroism aboard Flight 93, while watching the columns of smoke rise above the New York skyline, seeing the beginnings of the effort that quickly transitioned from rescue to recovery, seeing the look on President Bush's face as he was informed of the attack while reading to the young schoolchildren, of hearing the fear in my daughter's voice as she finally got through on her cell phone, asking what has happened and what to do. So many images compressed into one large memory.

Now, seven years later, we hear the tinfoil hat crowd question the facts of that day. We see politicians wanting us to put that day behind us, lest we remember our resolve as Americans to rid the world of the animals who would do such a thing,

We must learn from the events of that day seven years ago.

We must remember.

Cole Porter rocked

If you can't say anything nice, play some music.

Light pop harmonies from the mid 1960s such as this managed to expose a new generation to some of the Tin Pan Alley standards of the 1920s, 30s, and 40s.



Living where I do, I've always found the Altoona reference amusing.