Okay, so I'm a huge sap. Ginormous. I get strangely attached to inanimate objects. Always have. So much so that I sometimes actually feel empathy towards pairs of shoes I used to cherish and wear multiple times a week, now cast aside for newer, hipper footwear. I image their long, audible sighs and new-found feelings of insignificance based on my callous disregard.
This week, the Powers That Be have started dismantling the most iconic architecture in my beloved Burgh, the Civic Arena. The once beaming, chrome-domed igloo has had its aluminum outer shell stripped, exposing a rust-colored underbelly. The arena was functional, funky and instantly recognizable from all approaches, especially the air. Spotting this unique circular beauty through the porthole of my cramped airplane seat was always the first warm hug of home.
It's legendary retractable roof was something special. I can't tell you how cool it was to be rocking out at a concert, watching the city skyline magically appear before my glazed-over eyes.
Spectacular.
Plus could there be a more aptly-shaped home for Penguins to reside? Seriously. And now it sits, empty and abandoned. The once proud, first-of-its-kind, innovative new kid, dissed, deflated and destined for the scrap heap, forced to listen to the flashy new upstart down the street collect all the accolades once showered upon him 52 years ago.
I can hear his sighing from here...
and my heart breaks a little.
The first pie-shaped panel came down Friday.
I shed a tear.
Yeah. Big Fucking SAP.
Goodbye old friend. Thanks for the memories.
