Know Your Defunct Amusement Parks in Pennsylvania

Remembering the Labor Movement in 2012
iPhone photograph on Blog
$35,000

So I have this great idea for a First Friday meta-exhibit! It's called "We Parked at the Mall," and it consists of exterior photographs of various First Friday galleries that, for whatever reason, decided to turn out the lights and pack it in by 8:15 or so, the event's official 9 PM end time notwithstanding.

Apparently, the strategy to actually seeing more than two or three galleries at this thing is to bring a good pair of running shoes, don't spend more than five seconds on any one piece, and pray that you don't run into too many people you know. After all, it's not like this is supposed to be a social event or anything. Don't bother trying to come back on Saturday in the hope that any of it will be open again, either. Are you kidding? This place is even more of a desolate ghost town on the weekends than it is during the week!

Remember kids: we all want to revitalize downtown Scranton. We just don't want to put in more than an hour and a half per month to do it.

It's a brand new record for 1990...

They Might Be Giants' brand new album, Join Us Flood!

The local stations' 24-hour flood coverage has been nothing short of magical, in the "college radio show when the CD player breaks down" sense.

The anchors on 16 are currently showing Facebook photos in order to kill time until something, anything, new comes in, and as I'm typing this have forgotten the meteorologist currently on duty, who I think has used at least three different pronunciations of "Katia" so far. Earlier, they had Tom Clark introduce the newest member of their weather team, with whom he has absolutely no on-air chemistry (there's a shock), in what seemed like the most awkward weather segment EVER.

They also keep repeating a series of helicopter reports that all devolve into Marisa Burke having a conversation about the damage with the pilot and/or camera operator, who are, of course, inaudible. They also repeat a segment in which a guy says that he's going to stay in his house, and if the water reaches the second floor, he's just going to "skip" out. I don't think he quite understands how these "flood" things work.

Meanwhile, 28/22 seems to be broadcasting from a temporary studio, lit with flashlights, interspersed with footage from a series of security cameras, and the anchors have actually been *describing* Facebook photos because they can't get the photos themselves on the air. They've also instructed viewers to call schools and such about closures, because they apparently can't get that information on the air either. I'm surprised they haven't gone off the air due to hamster exhaustion by this point.

Great news!

From the "No, not the Dacia Sandero" Dept.

Since we last checked in on the progress of Scranton's luxury condominiums in 2006, they've finally managed to tear down the other half of that building in the back of the lot, as well as another to the side! Well, most of the one to the side:

Still, this sucker's gonna be ready to open any day now!

We now conclude "Things that tick Peter Hocking off" week on this blog with an HDR image of downtown Scranton.

Unfortunately, we were unable to find any middle-aged women in foofy pink dresses and curly blonde wigs who were willing to pose for the photo while holding the aforementioned iPad.

Don't get too excited now, guys.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a new winner for the "Creepiest Photo on this Blog" award!

In the months since the Lucky☆Star anime aired, Saitama prefecture, the setting of the series, has been finding new and innovative ways to make a quick buck from the franchise. This includes the show's Hiiragi family being registered as official residents of Washimiya, and the Washinomiya shrine (where Tsukasa and Kagami Hiiragi work as miko) hosting an event attracting thousands.

Now the city of Satte, hometown of main character Konata Izumi, has gotten into the act as well. The city is installing decorative panels commemorating the series on over 500 of its street lamps. This is in addition to the limited edition sake already available in the city.

If this were any country other than Japan, these would be covered in Sharpie scribbles by now.

In light of these events, the Greater Scranton Chamber of Commerce would like to issue the following reminder:

(Photo by tomdobb)

Her last fan

Leaving breakfast at the Guster Student Center today, I saw an old man walking up the Commons carrying two trash bags, and wearing a Hillary Duff T-shirt.

Just another day in Scranton.

Festa Etiquette

Some advice for those of you attending La Festa Italiana this weekend:

Do: Enjoy your food while standing off to the side, out of the way of walking traffic.

Don't: Just plop your plates down on top of your baby stroller and proceed to gather around it and have a picnic right in the middle of the sidewalk, causing that entire side of the festival to become gridlocked with people trying to get around your lazy asses.

Seriously, what the hell? I've been going to this thing for years now, and I've never seen such a blatant display of sheer ignorance before this year. I witnessed at least four instances of this in just the hour that I was there! Including one group that had the Adams Ave. side (which was already severly narrowed due to the courthouse robb^H^H^H^Hrenovations) blocked to the point where only one person could pass at a time. They really should make it a rule that you are allowed, or even encouraged, to plow over such people.

Sports Talk: Not just bad college radio, but bad blog material as well!

Am I the only one in the area that actually likes the name "Red Barons" for our baseball team? It's really starting to seem that way, with so many people calling for it to be changed with the team's new affiliation with the Yankees. I've heard a lot of people bring up the fact that Red Barons merchandise "hasn't been selling well". Well, yeah, that's probably because nobody around here really gave a shit about having the Phillies' farm team here. The only time people really showed up for a game was when they were playing the Clippers, the Yankees affiliate. There are a lot more Yankee fans in this area, and if their farm team is playing here, you can bet that the merchandise will sell, no matter what name you put on it. So that argument can really be chucked right there.

Another one I'm hearing is that the current name has "no meaning" today. Uh... hello? Since when was relevance needed to name a baseball team? Columbus? Landlocked city? Team named the Clippers anyway? Yeah, there goes that argument. And it is historically relevant: the name comes from the Scranton Red Sox and Wilkes-Barre Barons. And I know there are so many people who can't appreciate local heritage that are crying "Oh, but that was so long ago! Nobody remembers them noooow!" To which I reply, "THAT'S. THE. FUCKING. POINT. JACKASS."

What do you people want? "The Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees?" That sounds like something you'd buy tickets for from an irreputible street vendor in the Bronx. "Yeah, man, I got Yankees tickets right here. Best seats in the house. Sucker." Maybe he'll throw in one of his fine "Rolex" watches, as well.

Miners? Haven't we spent the last 15 years trying to get away from that stereotype?

The only half-decent one I've heard so far is "Highlanders", and even that seems kind of wussy and generic.

I've been fuming about this for a while now, but I finally had to write a rant about it tonight, after doing some snooping around baseball-reference.com and finding out that, many moves ago, in 1919, the team we now know as the Red Barons started out as... the Reading Coal Barons.

Think about that for a minute. We have the only team in baseball whose nickname is an unintentional pun on its original name. That alone makes it a keeper.

One thing we can all agree on, though: the Grump must die.

Luxury Condo Update

Previously, on Live from the Mai-King Chinese Restaurant...

May 2006

And now, our progress three months later:

August 2006

So, as you can see, we now have more than one car parked in front of the half-building! Better looking cars, too! Not only that, but most of them now seem to have their windows intact! Doesn't that just scream luxury? Surely, the throngs of obscenely wealthy Scrantonians are anxiously awaiting the grand opening of this fine establishment! What's that, you say?

Poverty rates double the national average! Job cuts galore! Mission accomplished!

Ah, but surely you don't know about the fine business plans of these entrepreneurs:

1. Go into a city where white-collar jobs exist only on an NBC sitcom, and build countless luxury condos and upscale boutiques such as pet "centers" that look like something Tsubaki Nekoi would be doing if the whole manga thing hadn't worked out.
2. ?????
3. Profit!

This is a foolproof concept! How can you plebeians possibly pan such a patently perfect plan?

Yeah, thanks for getting flooded, asshole!

What remains of Lonesome Road in Old Forge, after the Lackawanna River made a snack of it during the June 2006 floods.

From the "Why Retail Workers Should be Armed" Dept.

So the Scranton Times-Tribune has an article today about the struggles of the Dollar General store on Lonesome Road in Old Forge, which can be seen in the background of the above photo. Not struggles against rising water, or the road being out, mind you. We're talking struggles by store employees against angry customers. Let's review their plight, shall we?

1. One week ago, the Lackawanna River surged, flooding the store under several feet of water. Much of the merchandise was, obviously, destroyed, and the store needed a major cleanup as a result.
2. In addition, the road in front of the store was washed away by the river current, leaving the store inaccessible for almost a week since.
3. When PennDOT finally built a temporary road around the washed-out portion, it was too narrow for the company's large trucks to navigate, leaving the store unable to replenish its stock, most of which is now waterlogged and unsellable, even if it is a dollar store.

Yet despite all this, there are still pieces of human garbage out there that actually have the gall to complain that the store is closed! From the article:

“Great. Now I have to go all the way out of my way. Thanks a lot,” one man yelled out of his car window before speeding out of the parking lot.

What the fuck do these people expect? "Yeah! Thanks a lot for not miraculously parting the Lackawanna like Moses so I can buy all my dollar store crap right this instant!"

It was much nicer back in the old days, when problem "customers" like that were shown the door and told never to come back, lest they be charged with trespassing. Now, all the retail business is done by large chains that hire managers who are too chicken to tell the terminally ignorant to get the hell out. This, in turn, makes it worse for the rest of us to shop, since we're always trying to get around idiots who:

• Block entire aisles and refuse to move
• Hold up the register for hours on end haggling the cashier over various expensive items that she swears were all marked 3/99¢ on the shelf
• Take the motorized carts simply because they are too fat and lazy to walk a few damn feet to the potato chips, leaving none for those who are genuinely handicapped and need them
• When an employee is assisting you, walk up screaming, demanding that the employee help them instead, despite the fact that you were there first (bonus points if they just need to know the location of an item they just walked by on their way to throw a tantrum)
• Take items out of other people's carts
• Allow their filthy, grossly overweight, lice-ridden children to run around the store completely unattended, tripping people, running into shopping carts, blocking aisles, and generally making enough retarded screaming noises to rival the taping of your average MTV show.
• Are filthy, grossly overweight, and lice-ridden themselves
• And so on, and so on...

I propose that we find the "man" (note the use of quotes) mentioned in this article. When the land along Lonesome Road is rebuilt, have a cheap, one-story house built alongside the river, and force this guy to move into it. Next time the river floods, we all get together and beat him with bricks for every hour that he is not finished cleaning up and rebuilding said house. Afterwards, we all take turns yelling, "Thanks a lot, jerkwad!", and speeding off his lawn.

It'll be the best national holiday ever!

Silly Developers...

They're building luxury condominiums here.

And by "building", I of course mean that the building in the background has been sitting there half torn-down since February.

Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli

Random observations from this year's La Festa Italiana:

• For some reason, there were a lot of people dragging their dogs along this year. This is the first year that I've ever seen anybody at this thing with a pet of any kind, and for good reason. If you've ever been to La Fester, you'll know that it is no place for pets. I even saw a few people pulling chihuahuas around on leashes, wich I'm sure resulted in more than a few people leaving with chihuahua pancakes stuck to their sandals
• Out of all the stands that were there, not a single one had a genuine white pizza. Too many people these days seem to think that a white pizza is nothing more than a regular pizza with no sauce, and usually, to add insult to injury, tomato slices on top. ("Ha ha! You will have tomatoes on your pizza, whether you like it or not!") There's a number of spices that are needed to have a good white pizza, and nobody there this weekend had 'em.
• While we're on the subject, "Buffalo Wing" is NOT a legitimate pizza topping. Where did you learn this? STOP DOING IT! You see those little red discs over there? Those are pepperoni. Try putting those on a pizza, I heard they're pretty good.
• Also, while geographically close, gyros do not count as Italian food. Let's try not to have three tents selling them next year, mmkay?
• Finally, there was a local restaurant selling fried ravioli at $4.50 for a plate of 4. That breaks down to $1 per ravioli (if you assume that the sauce is $.50). The goddamn things better be made of solid platinum with diamond cheese for that price.

Anyway, that's enough griping about food for one year. Now it's time for that most sacred of post-Labor Day traditions in Scranton: The week's worth of heartburn and indigestion! Wheeeee!

The anti-gay marriage crowd proudly displays their intellect to the world.
(AP Photo)

Cheerio!

I just realized that this was the only blog left on the Internet that hasn't made fun of Phil Spector's hair yet. I shall now remedy this situation.
(AP Photo)

So for the last few days, the Scranton area has been undergoing an inexplicable influx of British people. It started with a few on Wednesday night, then by Thursday every other customer at work was rattling on about tills and kippers and whatnot. It eventually got to the point where even the other customers (who are usually about as cognizant of their surroundings as Terri Schiavo) noticed it, and began speaking in bad fake British accents in their usual "dumb-customer-who-thinks-he's-a-witty-smartass" fashion.

I have absolutely no idea why this is happening. I mean, why the hell would you travel all the way to America, just to go to Scranton? Are we suddenly some kind of international tourist destination? Do people really want to see the Electric City sign that badly? Are they actually taking Old Forge's talk of being the "Pizza Capitol of the World" seriously? Are the Iron Furnaces a happening place now? What's the draw here?

"I gotta tell you, folks, I gotta tell you, when I woke up this morning, I was having a bad hair day. This was a bad hair day for Ed Robertson. But, all was not lost, for I simply turned on my TV and the answer was before me! The answer was before me! I mortgaged my house, sold my car, sold my parents and some of my siblings, and I bought a tiny spray. And I sprayed it on top of my head, until I got this Glorious Poof of Wonderment!"

Ed Robertson of Barenaked Ladies, at a concert in Massey Hall in Toronto, May 1993

"Creepy hovering Electric City sign" wallpaper: 1280x960 1024x768 800x600

Soramimi This!

For those of you who use Unix/Linux/BSD/OS X/Sushix/whatever and who are bummed about the FuzzyFlakes hack in xscreensaver dropping the Azumanga Daioh colors (I'm sure that's millions of you), here's a little patch I made to cheer you up.

Open Bar!

(Only in Scranton, Part III)

Holiday Season Highlights

Well, I was going to do a long rant about how Christmas™ has become an irrecoverable waste, and how we really should just bag it and look forward to President's Day already, but everybody knows that, and yet nothing is ever done about it, so would it really make any difference? Anyway, here are some pictures of cheesy things that you could find in Scranton's famous vibrating mall over the holiday season. Besides highly dubious architecture, of course. First, we have the Bear™:



This is a giant talking bear that sits outside the entrance to the food court every holiday season. The problem is, they never actually bother to fix the thing up when they pull it out of storage in November. As a result, its mouth doesn't really move so much as quiver, and, as you can see, its eyes no longer blink in unison. 'Tis a sorry sight, and it is quickly getting to the point where the kiddies are going to be even more scared of this monstrosity than they are of the mannequins over at B Moss, which have small christmas trees impaled on the severed, lonely stumps that are their necks. I would have taken a picture of these, but thanks to the glare in the window, that would have involved actually going into the store, and judging by the cruel, inhumane treatment of poor, defenseless mannequins, one can only assume that it belongs to a primitive tribe of barbarians. Lord only knows how such savages would react to a Penn Jillette lookalike, dressed in the latest 1980's fashion, walking into their territory with a civilized creation such as a camera. It would be like Ferdinand Magellan all over again.

Anyway, while we're on the subject, what is it with the headless mannequins these days? Out of all the stores in the mall, only Boscov's still has mannequins with heads on them, and it seems that even they are starting to phase them out. That's probably a good thing considering the mannequin below, which seems to be posed in a very suggestive way. I have no idea exactly what it's suggesting, but surely there has to be a fetish website out there somewhere filled with pictures just like this one:



And of course, while we're in Boscov's, the great K-Mart that wants to be Bloomingdale's, we can't forget to mention their fine holiday slogan:



On that note, everybody (all two of you who are reading this) have a jolly Ramadan, and a happy new arbitrary chronological period. "B" Merry! Ha! Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! HA!

Even More Lame Car Stuff

Being hopelessly stuck in Scranton, Pennsylvania for the time being, I tend to have a tremendous amount of free time on my hands. (No, really?) Indeed. Nothing whatsoever has happened in this town since that banana truck crashed, which I think was about 40 years ago. The entire city is nothing more than a series of small bars and large churches, with Italian restaurants and double-block houses thrown in occasionally to mix things up a little. As you can imagine, this is a rather lousy place to live for a non-drinker who doesn't believe in organized religion. Thankfully I at least enjoy Italian food and live in a double-block house, otherwise I probably would have flung myself from the steeple of St. Luke's Episcopal by now. Don't even get me started on the lame concert schedule. (I don't like Lynard Skynard or Elton John already, so stop booking them every damn month!)

Anyway, quite a bit of this free time happens to fall between my classes, in increments too small to leave the vicinity of campus, but too large to do anything on campus, as the only two things that a commuting student can do at the University of Scranton are either eating or studying, and I don't think I've needed to study for anything since 10th grade. So during this time, I usually end up just walking around Downtown (Ha!) Scranton aimlessly, searching desperately for anything that is even remotely amusing or interest...

Schumin Alarm: *BWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...!*

Bah, I knew that was going to happen. Anyway, here are a couple more odd cars that I've spotted in these travels to nowhere, in addition to the PenguinMobile and the HoagieMobile:

First off, we have this little dandy:



So here, not only do we have the old front bumper held on by duct tape trick, but for some strange reason there is also an audio/video cable taped into the mess. I'd like to know just what the hell the reasoning was behind that one. It's obviously not supporting anything. Maybe they plug a DVD player into it and watch movies, which are somehow projected onto the road via the headlights. A safe way to drive, I'm sure.

And then, there's this:



Uhh... yeah. It's a minivan... with a spoiler... Not much that needs to be said here, really. In fact, I think it would be best if we just mercifully ended the whole thing here. There can't possibly be a way to top this.

Next week: College Roomies From Hell!!!'s own Maritza Campos drops by to give an enlightening lecture on the post-WWII reconstruction of Japan and its relation to the size of Brett Somers' sunglasses through the years! Don't miss it! Even though you will, since it's not going to happen!

Only in Scranton, Part II

This week: Advertising in Scranton
In other towns, deli operators might advertise their businesses by leaving menus under the windshield wipers of cars parked in the area.



Here, they leave free samples.

While we're on the subject of advertising, here's one of many great signs made by the friendly people at the Crystal Candy & Nut Shop. Remember: if you ever find yourself on Pittston Ave. in Scranton, drop by and pick up some Pistachios! They're right next to the cemetary (which, in this town, is about as prime a location as you can get these days).



Yes, they do take these signs in at night.

Next week: What I ate for breakfast!

Only in Scranton, Part I

What's the best way to show your undying support for your favorite team? Paint their logo on the hood of a beat up '85 Plymouth Horizon, of course!

You know what the saddest part of this is? It probably doubled the price of the car. Although it was probably worth about $65 before, so I guess it's not really that big a deal.

Next week: How to advertise in Scranton! Be there! Or not! See if I care!

We get letters

And now, I'm going to answer some of the feedback I've gotten from people just like you over the last 3 years. Actually, I'm going to answer most of it. It's pretty hard not to, since only 8 people ever bothered to send anything. In fact, the feedback file contains more "script test" entries from myself than it does actual feedback. Sad, really. Anyway, on to the first message, from "meow.":

meow.

meow. meow meow meow. meow meow, meow meow meow? meow, meow meow. *sigh*

I'll let University of Scranton President Fr. Joseph McShane, S.J. handle this one. Fr. McShane?


Thank you, Fr. McShane. Our next letter comes from jerry. He writes:

It was great to see the Casey still stands; they've only had nearly 20 years to figure out what to do with it!

I attended the University of Scranton in 1984 and hoped to be able to see the inside of that buidling before it fell. Unfortunately, the city did not find the need to preserve it the way they did with the Scranton Dry Good building, which was empty but fully heated the last time I saw it.

I got this one back in 2000, when the Hotel Casey was indeed still standing. Unfortunately, it was demolished earlier this year to make way for a large hole in the ground:



Right now, they're in the process of building a brand new hotel and conference center across the street from the former site of the Casey. I don't know why. Who the hell would want to have a conference in Scranton, anyway? I'd say something about how the loss of the Casey is a very bad thing for the city, but Peter Hocking already handled that topic in the June 4 entry of his weblog thingamiwhoozit (No longer online. If you wanted to see it, too bad.). As for the Scranton Dry Good building, I think Scranton Prep bought it and is planning to tear that down, too. That might be another building I'm thinking of, though.

By the way, if you're interested in what the inside of the Hotel Casey looked like, you can check out this site, which contains many illegally-obtained photos. Trespassing: W00t! This has been a message from the National Trespassing Bureau.

(Oct 29, 2001 update: Unfortunately, this site appears to have vanished from the face of the Internet. If anybody knows of a new location or even has the pictures from it sitting on their harddrive someplace, please let me know. For those of you who are still wondering what the Casey looked like inside before it was torn down: take what's left of the Titanic, remove most of the water, and replace the fish with pigeons. For those of you who are wondering about what the Casey looked like inside after it was torn down: you *really* need to get out more.)

Our next letter, from Erica:

Um, I realize that I am a big loser for actually writing and the fact that I am from Scranton, PA; but I was looking at your ScrantonCam and the picture that is supposedly taken from the 6th floor of the Casey Hotel had some, I believe they were, Cacti? Now, as many people realize, Scranton is in the North Eastern section of the US where I really dont think that there are any cacti. I just thought I would tell you. Yes, you can rant and rave all you want because some chick from Scranton corrected your site but I am really friggen bored and this took about 10 minutes of my pathetically anal life to complete so thankyou for filling my life with wonderfful things to complain about. Okay...I am going now.

You... Nah, it's too easy. Next!

The UK's very own raziele chimes in with the following:

wot s this site about please send me death threats so I can send them around

Okay, so this person apparently found my feedback page while doing a search for "death threats". I don't know why, but for some reason I find the thought of somebody saying that with an English accent absolutely hilarious. Then again, I live in Scranton. You almost have to be easily amused in this town. Anybody who lives here will know exactly what I'm talking about. Well, anybody who isn't named Erica, anyway.

So that's it for the feedback. I'd answer more, but that would mean that I'd have to get more first. So send something. Please. And Be sure to tune in next time, when I'll don a skimpy Sailormoon costume and juggle morningstars with my nose while singing Oops, I Did It Again. Or maybe not...

Hi, would you like a story?

Haven't updated this thing in a while. And why should I? It's not like anybody ever visits this thing.

Anyway, I went to this concert up at the Montage Mountain ampitheater last year. For those of you outside the Scranton area, it's basically a stage, a giant tent with a bunch of seats under it, and a lawn that has no view of the stage whatsoever, because the back of said tent comes down in front of it. It's poorly set up and gets very few acts that are actually worth seeing, especially since tickets cost about $20 more there than they do at any other venue within a 500-mile radius. Also: they serve cheeseburgers made of cardboard.

So I was at this Bob Dylan/Phil Lesh (some Grateful Dead guy) concert with Pete last year. Boy, was that an adventure. The parking lot was packed with people who for some reason can't figure out that the '60s ended 30 years ago; stoners in brightly-painted VW Buses as far as the eye can see. None of them were actually there for the concert, they just hung out in the parking lot the entire time. The few who actually did attend the show were there to see Lesh, and not Dylan; a sure sign that we should just drop the bombs on ourselves already.

We made it up to the gate, about an hour before Montage's crack security team (Motto: "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ") finally got around to opening the place. While we waited, we were approched by these two girls who, unfortunately, did not want to take us back to their respective VW buses. Instead they asked, "Hi, would you like a story?" They then proceeded to hand us these really cheesy, poorly-drawn cards that don't make any sense whatsoever. And now, for your viewing enjoyment:


Here it is! Wheeee! (Part One) (Part Two)


Pete might have the one he got up over on his site eventually, assuming he figures out where he put it. Until then, feel free to drive by his house and throw Rat Pack CD's onto his lawn.

"Hi, would you like a story?" Man, that's got to be the worst pickup line I've ever heard.

Goodbye, old friend...

The Hotel Casey
1910-2001