A Deluxe Compartment in the Sky: We’re Movin’ On Up...

A week or so ago, a blogger friend of mine wrote an interesting piece about the cursed origin of the office cubicle--those bland workspaces squared off with faux walls, rows and rows of corporate tedium. (Well, those weren't his exact words but that pretty much sums up how he sees them, as a white collar prison.) 

And I suppose there's a few million office workers out there who feel just the same way (and God knows I've spent the last couple decades in them too & not always happy about it either). 

But I’m still excited about my news on this one; on Monday (May 3 2010) I am taking up residence--well, work residence--on the 21st floor of the US Steel Building, the tallest structure in the 'burg.

No, I didn't get a new job; my company (UPMC Health Plan) is moving it's offices into corporate headquarters where our parent company, (University of Pittsburgh Medical Care) moved from Oakland to downtown Pittsburgh in 2007.  They didn't just move there, they took over the top floors and slapped the UPMC logo across the top of the tower too.  It was a strange sight for many, myself included:  everyone knew this as the US Steel Building.

On the far left, the UPMC logo is all aglow on each side of the US Steel Tower


The US Steel Building is the tallest skyscraper in Pittsburgh.  Built in 1970, it has 64 floors and approximately 2.5 million feet of leased space.  It was renamed the USX Building in 1988, but changed back to US Steel in 2002.  (I know, statistics are boring but they're still worth mentioning.)

So this past week, our department was offered a tour of the floor we'll be occupying.  Everything was brand new, and 'done green' with lots of natural and energy-saving lighting, bamboo flooring in public areas such as the lounges & conference rooms, & even the walls, cabinets and desks are made with recycled materials.

 

Entrance to the employee kitchen and lounge (photos courtesy of Erin Ondrish, my coworker who went on the tour with me) 


When we were walking about I couldn't help but be very impressed.  It seemed that everywhere I looked I saw either sky (windows everywhere) or a terrific assortment of abstract art that adorn the interior walls.  I think the only artwork we had in our previous office was the lame caricature I did of my coworker Erin, which hung above her desk!

Speaking of desks, my new workspace; it may look bland here, but it also has a great view


We're right in the center of downtown and just steps away from Macy's, restaurants & the like.  I'm also much closer to old friends & former coworkers from other companies, we have a food court & gym on the lower levels and I suppose it doesn't hurt that my morning bus-stop is right outside the front doors!

The view from our windows of the plaza below


I don't mean to sound melodramatic here--after all, the US Steel Building houses a few thousand tenants.  But for some reason, perhaps because of my 'late start' in this industry (I was 28 when Omega Systems hired me as a programmer) I can't help but appreciate where I am now, compared to twenty years ago.  In the late 80s, before finding a way to go back to college, I was unemployed & broke and living in the attic of my best friend's rural house outside of Waynesburg, wondering if things would ever change for the better. 
                                  
Well, when I showed these pictures to my sisters, Donda said "Wow fancy digs!!" and Shawn said "Not to beat a dead horse, but I'm amazed how far you've come.  This sure is a long way from that musty attic."   

I couldn't agree more and am thankful.

Schoolhouses and Sloppy Joes: The Wonder Years are alive and well

One night a week or so ago, I  ventured out to Classmates.com out of sheer boredom, curious to see if anyone I graduated with had 'joined the ranks'.  I had overheard someone at work talking about the website, and I realized I hadn't visited Classmates since I registered there a few years ago. 

I was surprised to see over half my senior class out there--okay, so there were only around fifty names,  but our graduating class only had a total of 104 students.  Nothing like these giant high schools in Pittsburgh.

What really surprised me though was this private note attached to my account:  "Hi Douglas, this is an old classmate of yours. I moved before the 9th grade, but haven't forgotten my childhood friends. Hope all is well. Please respond. Thanks Patty Hill"

I was almost taken aback:  Patty Hill?  I hadn't heard that name in thirty-five years!  Her family moved to Ohio when we were in the eighth grade, never to be heard from again:  and yet I realized that I probably remembered Patty better than most of the kids I attended high school with.  I responded to her note (unsure if I'd hear back or not--she had left that note on my Classmates account several months ago).  She replied almost immediately though, gracious and friendly and polite, and I sat here scratching my head, feeling like a 13 year old kid again, amazed that the prettiest girl in class was talking to me. 

Patty in 6th grade, and how I remember her

It's surprising, the preconceived notions about others (and yourself) you can carry through the years.   In fourth thru sixth grade, we were seated alphabetically & Patty sat directly across from me in the next row.  She wasn't just pretty, she was downright striking: always impeccably dressed and very modern, her soft voice & easy grace intimidated me.   (I didn't intimidate easily at that age, either; I teased and flirted with every girl in that classroom.)  But I never felt in Patty's league.

So here I am, my "upper forties" and feeling like a kid all over again.  Never mind my accomplishments or the women I've known since then, this is Patty Hill. When I ask her why she's reaching out to someone she hasn't seen since 1975, surely she must've made hundreds of friends in her life in Ohio, she explains that her happiest memories were in southwestern Pa, of her house in the country, our little red schoolhouse and her childhood friends.

Lippincott School, where I attended school with Patty in the early 70s; it looks just the same today, but it’s a private Christian school now

Patty told me her happiest memories there were "Ms. Clutter, the smell of inky dittos, hot lunches with sloppy joes and Wise potato chips, Miss Diamond who married and became Mrs. Skovera, monkey bars, and play day, music class with Mrs. English and choir, studying bible verses for Fridays at the Baptist church, Mr. Rumancik and Mrs. McNay, shiny hardwood floors, watching reel movies, passing notes and laughter, watching the horses out our 6th grade window, and walking to the covered bridge." 

 

Cox Farm Bridge, 35 years later and still looks exactly the same

To be honest, reading Patty's memories both surprised me and put a real lump in my throat.  I remembered everything she wrote, of course.  For some reason though, I never expected I'd be hearing such recollections from Patty Hill…                       

Well, it makes me happy, knowing someone out there (my age) holds on to these same memories.  For the first time in a long time, I feel a little less older and a little less guilty about my reminiscing.   And it's been nice getting to know Patty Hill all over again.

A step in the right direction (for more than just one of us, hopefully)

For as long as I can remember, the bus I ride downtown to work every morning has dropped me off at the corner of Grant & Fifth Ave in downtown Pittsburgh. 

And from there, I've always stayed left on my walk to GNCorp or Mellon in the 1990s, or UPMC since 2000.  So it was a strange feeling this week to get off that same bus but turn right instead, to that dark and imposing brick 'castle' seen here--the Allegheny County Courthouse.

Instead of going to work I was serving as a juror in a criminal trial.

When I first received the summons for jury duty back in February, I stuck it in my bill drawer & had almost forgotten it.  I've received a summons twice before in the twenty years I've lived in Pittsburgh, but never served.  (Both times I spent the day in a giant room with 300 other prospective jurors, bored & waiting to go home.)

But luck was (or wasn't, depending on how you look at it) on my side on Tuesday.  We were all asked to fill out questionnaires for potential interviews with the prosecutor & defense lawyers for possible jury trials.  And somehow mine became the second name called for an interview, and ultimately, the first one chosen.

The case was "The Commonwealth vs. James B.";  a twentysomething professional who was accused of attacking another man without provocation and breaking his jaw in the process.  The defendant admitted to causing the injury, but claimed he had only acted in self defense.  (Rather, his irritating attorney did, as he kept reminding us "SELF DEFENSE IS PERFECTLY LEGAL IN PENNSYLVANIA!  LET ME READ YOU THE LAWS TO PROVE IT!")    

The actual courtroom of the trial,  the jury box is on right

For someone like myself who has never even stepped foot in a courtroom (yet seen my share of them on tv), it was a surreal experience.  It's disconcerting to have so many sets of eyes watching you--the lawyers, the defendant, his family, the witnesses from both sides.

We jurors had a wonderful 'tipstaff', a court official who advised us this would happen, among other things, and tried to minimize the surprises.  She remained with us every step of the way.  For someone who must do this everyday, and usually with a group of confused first-timers with lots of questions like ourselves, we were always shown a great deal of attention, courtesy and respect.

It was a well rounded jury, too.  We had 6 men and 6 women, and 2 alternates.  (The alternates were both older men who sat in the jury box the length of the trial but were dismissed right before we went into deliberations to decide on a verdict).  

Strangely, we all talked like old friends but didn't ask each others names--we went by 'Computer Guy' (me), 'Salon Girl', 'Med Student', 'Dressy Lady', etc. 

On the first day, the judge told us "For the length of this trial, you jurors will remain together every step of the way.  If one person needs a break, you all take a break.  If one of you needs to go to the bathroom, you all go to the bathroom." 

So in between sessions, we sat in the Jury Room and quizzed each other on old trial movies!  "Who starred in 'Legal Eagles'?"  (Robert Redford.)  "What movie did Al Pacino play an angry lawyer in 1979?"  (And Justice for All.)   "What was the movie where a group of vigilante judges meet in secret?"  (The Star Chamber.) 

The trial went smoothly enough--we referred to it as 'Revenge of the Nerds Part 3', as the defendant (and his colleagues) resembled the quartet from 'The Big Bang Theory'.  Their separate accounts of what occurred were detailed and consistent, & most importantly, rang true.  They claimed a tipsy jock-type approached the defendant, said ”You're a f--king pussy, I'm taking you down", and shoved him against a wall.  The defendant claims when he pushed him away, he got a punch in the chest & ear for it.  He then stated he was frightened and took a swing, which broke the jock's jaw--and his pride too, I'm guessing.

I was surprised to find this; District Attorney  David Michael Belcyzk is also an author of several poetry collections & does readings!

Judge Williams informed us that in a case of 'he said/he said', we had to study both sets of witnesses carefully, then rely on our intuition and use some common sense.  It didn't exactly help the prosecutor's case when the jock with the broken jaw took the stand and said "I did not instigate this, and I don't use terms like f--k and pussy either."  

We jurors later witnessed him outside the courtoom telling his friends "You should see me in there, I'm taking this f-ckin' pussy down!"  I said to one of the other jurors ‘case closed’ and she agreed.

We found the defendant not guilty by reason of self-defense.

I found it a but surprising (after the verdict was read) when the defendant turned to his attorney and said "Yes!  I'm innocent!"   The judge quickly admonished him: “The jury did not find you innocent, they found you not guilty.  There is a difference.  I'm convinced you could've walked away, so remember this the next time you plan on striking someone.  You may not find this many people on your side again.”   I really liked that.