Lawrenceville Neighborhood, Pittsburgh

          Every time I go into the city, I say to myself, "I miss this!  I need to start coming in more often."  But it rarely happens.  This afternoon my wife had a "Groupon" for a family event in the once-gritty Lawrenceville neighborhood, along the Allegheny River.  This part of town is experiencing a major upswing, and even in this economy, there were signs of construction and renovations everywhere.  

           This regal statue above the main entrance to St. Augustine Church made me giggle.  "Don't jump, Auggie!  It gets better!  You won't always get teased for your flowing gowns and smart cane."  (Not that teen suicide is any laughing matter, but those vestments are.)  The church is part of a monastery complex for the Capuchin Friars of the Province of St. Augustine.  Much of the compound struck me as semi-derelict, but this is Lawrenceville: derelict is very much the fashion.  Having a Lawrenceville address used to mean that you're a riverside factory worker.  It could still mean that, or it might mean that you're a vegan left-wing activist with a six-figure salary, a degree from Brown, and a nose ring.

          It's a part of town worth exploring.  It offers that rich juxtaposition of old on new, chic on ramshackle.  You see supermodels walking their rarefied canine breeds down narrow streets where ancient Irish and Italian grandmothers gaze from the parlor windows of dark houses, mysterious houses at once cramped and vast as labyrinths, filled with Roman statuary, and icons, and photographs of bygone days.  Drug dealers, pottery spinners, goths.  I don't know if I'd want to live there, but Lawrenceville is so much more intriguing than the semi-rural scene that I inhabit, in the outermost ring of suburbs.  The rowhouses and steep streets have an almost European feel, especially in the areas where the Italianate towers of St. Augustine preside.