Guest Blog by Pittsburgh Comedian John Knight
It was the first weekend of January 1994 and I was near the end of my holiday visit. We had been living in Los Angeles for a few years, but for some odd reason the big snows always seemed to wait for my arrival back to Pittsburgh. My wife and I were staying with my parents at the home where I had grown up. It was on Race Street in McKees Rocks, a one way street with cars parked on both sides. This usually left just enough space to squeeze your car through and if you were driving a truck or SUV you would bless yourself before trying to navigate the narrow lane.
On Sunday January 4, the snow kept coming down. It had started the night before and by the time it was over I think there were 18 inches on the ground. I had been battling a stomach virus all day and was just starting to feel a little better when the snow finally let up, sometime in the early evening. I think it was around seven when I heard the first shovels going to work outside and knew that I should join them. All of the neighbors were out and we bitched together about what had been dumped on us. Well, not all of the neighbors were present. There was a family up the street that nobody really cared for because, well because they were jagoffs. This family would just wait for warmer weather and everybody else would just have to find a way around the foot and a half of snow on their sidewalk.
The snow was heavy and a bitch to shovel. It took me almost four hours to get it all done. The sidewalk was the easy part. I could just shovel it right into the yard. The two cars are what took most of the night. I had to fill up a shovel and then walk about ten feet to the yard before dumping. Anyone that ever had to dig a car out of the snow knows that you also have to clear a path in the front and back of the vehicle so you are able to maneuver out of the space. As cold as it was that night, I worked up a good sweat and was exhausted as I entered the house.
My father had to work the next day and as he drove away I practiced the Pittsburgh tradition of placing a chair in the space I had dug out. The chair is just a formality to let everyone know that you worked hard to clear this spot and have earned the right to park there. Nobody would ever bother another’s hard earned space. At least that it was you would think. It was around four in the afternoon when I glanced out and was shocked at what I saw. The parking chair was sitting up on the sidewalk and another car was occupying the space. Not just any car, the car belonging to the jagoff family. “Son Of a Bitch!”
I looked to see that they had knocked the snow off of their car, adding more to the wall already on their sidewalk, and somehow managed to wiggle the car out. There was no way to get back into that space so they stole ours. I was so furious that I couldn’t think straight for a few moments.
When I finally calmed down the solution was clear. I bundled myself up, went outside and proceeded to put all of the snow back where it was .I piled In front of the car, behind the car, beside the car and of course on top of it. It took an hour and a half but this time it was more fun than digging out the space. When I was done you wouldn’t have even known there was a car buried under all of that snow. That’s when I got the hose. You like that space, you can have it until April.
Who’s the jagoff now?
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A guest blog post from Luke Bruss (Pens and the Pen on Facebook)
Being a Penguins season ticket holder, is like being part of a family. I’m sure it’s the same for any sport, especially in a city that’S as passionate about its teams like we are. Your seat neighbors become friends, and the shared experiences along the emotional ride that is hockey season forms a bond. So too, do the various displays of jagoffery that all of us endure. The following is a list of some of the most frequent offenders.
The Stoneface Jag: They sit there just blankly staring at the ice. Whether it’s a big hit by Robert Bortuzzo, a beautiful save by Fleury, or an eye-popping and mumps-free goal by Sid they sit there like a zombie. Now I am REALLY loud at Consol (if you’re ever in 212 listen for a long, loud “LET’S GO PENS!” when the lights go out) but I can’t carry the whole section. Even worse; sometimes they get annoyed with my enthusiastic antics…which only makes me louder. Jagoffery reciprocated, pal.
The Profane Jag: We’re all guilty of letting our emotions get the best of us and letting some potty mouth come out. It happens; no big deal. But the Profane Jag takes it to another level…think Ralphie’s dad from “A Christmas Story”. Despite being surrounded by small children F-Bombs and Bullsmoke galore. When I am with a buddy, or my dad, or someone who is old enough to drive, I honestly don’t care. But have some consideration for the parents around you that do.
The Pigpen Jag: This one is tough to deal with; no one wants to be the jagoff who points out others’ lack of hygiene. But when you’re going to be sitting in close proximity to dozens of fans, please don’t smell like rotten meat and dirty feet.
The Early Riser Jag: This is the person that feels compelled to walk down the aisle during gameplay, and obstructing everyone’s view. Listen to the pregame announcement of the house rules and don’t stand up until a whistle.
The Jagoffs Leaving Early: These are the people who spend hundreds of dollars per game, and leave with 5 minutes (or more) left in the third period. It doesn’t matter if we’re winning or losing; close or blow out. They always do the March Of The jagoffs.
The Leaner Jag: This is the type of jagoff that’s the bane of our hockey fandom. They get seats in the very front row and feel entitled to use half of their seat. I understand that some don’t realize that they’re blocking the view of others behind them. This isn’t about them. This is about the repeat offenders who always lean during every game. (I’m looking at you, guy in the Bud Light Party Zone jersey).
It’s not the end of the world if you are one of these jags. But the next time you’re at Consol be prepared to scream loudly (but cleanly), stay seated until the whistle, and for God’s sake, SIT BACK, YA JAGOFF!
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Last week we invited yinz to submit your Holiday Story traditions.
Mary MacAnellen our buddy from the MaryMac Bakehouse submitted this story. Hope you enjoy it. Feel free to SHARE.
We will be back to Jagoff Catchin’ Monday.
We live in the middle of No Where. Seriously. Our house is on a hill in the wind. Farmed fields are across the road from us and stretch on for a long way. We can see the weather coming when it’s hours away. We always have wind. Always. I’m talking kite flying, hat blowing off, bone chilling wind.
We put an addition on our house that included a front porch with the idea that we could have Christmas Lights. You know what wind does to Christmas Lights? It blows the bulbs right out of the sockets! Wreaths? Ha! They wind up in the woods! Garland? Rips the tinsel right out of the rope!Bows?
They spin around like pinwheels! We were left with no decorations for Christmas.
Then, one day, I came upon a full sized Red Rider Leg Lamp! It’s the real deal, just like the major award from the movie! It arrived 8 years ago and has been in our front window ever since. Now, from it’s protected location in the living room window, the soft glow of electric sex can be seen by the very few passers-by who travel our road. We use it as a beacon to guide guests to our house “Just look for the Leg Lamp in the window!” we say.
And every year, on the first day of December, we celebrate Leg Lamp Light Up Night, when the Lamp is officially turned on to start the Christmas Season.
Click on “Mary’s Buns” to find out where to get them.