I’m the Walkin’ Chick. All over these United States, I take marathon hikes for exercise, fresh air, and to get the real feel of a city. Two coyotes showing off in the middle of the day in downtown Colorado Springs. Seattle’s frequent but intermittent rain romancing me like eternal autumn. Blooming phlox blanketing summer in Green Bay. My memory of a city is based on one of three things: the friends I meet, the inside of the theatre, and the time I spend walking.

Yes, I’ve ended up lost. I’ve ended up where I shouldn’t be. But I’ve also ended up in a Hollywood movie star’s backyard and beside myself and a glacier in Anchorage. There’s always an adventure on foot.

So today in Pittsburgh PA I walked myself across the Monongahela River, and found a neighborhood exploding with life---just my type of hood complete with thrift shops, used book stores, and kooky characters. There was a store called E House, or something green and environmental like that, so of course I stepped in. Hemp, organic cotton, cruelty-free vegetarian products---high quality and affordable items no home or suite case should remain ignorant to. Then there was Hot Rod Body Piercing, a classy/tribal jewelry front I stopped into and walked out of one 14-gauge-horseshoe-hanging-from-yet-another-innocent-piece-of-skin older and one cool-new-freaky-friend wiser (you should see the size of the jewelry in his lobes).

Later, no longer on foot but still kicking for adventure, I am picked up after the show in a baby blue ‘72 Dodge Swinger and paraded to the best look out point of this architecturally captivating mini-metropolis, then whisked away to a run down movie theatre turned kickin club to be humbled by the local Bull Seal Collective making music, art and entertainment the way I have always dreamed of doing, and finally escorted into the Strip District for my cast mate, Pooh’s 29th birthday (and let me tell you, when the STOMPers go dancing, there is only one place to be). And truthfully, what story of city nostalgia is complete without another identity-protected cast mate of mine winding up bloody in the street? Exactly the way you are bound to wind up eventually with a nasty proclivity towards picking fights.

Which reminds me of the time I walked over the bat bridge in Austin TX. I met a boy there who smelled like desert sun. It was a small stage in Austin TX. The first row of the audience was so close you could sweat on them.

Athens OH next.

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