Observations on Chambersburg, PA, Vol. 1

So I'm here in Chambersburg, PA (and if you know me well enough, you know I pronounce that "Pah"), and have been here for a week now. I haven't quite seen the whole area just yet, but there's still enough material to mine so I can give you all a good idea of what this town is like. I'll go perhaps check out the rest of the area on my way down to West Virginia (cue "Dueling Banjos") to buy Powerball tickets... YEAH RIGHT!!! Like I'd waste my time on that. I have two very good reasons for not having any interest in Powerball: 1) it's 1 in 80 million odds, and 2) I've gotten so used to living on meager amounts of money, I wouldn't be able to handle $300 million. I have the vision in my mind of my head literally exploding if I actually won ("does not compute, does not compute...")

So, with that subject out of the way, I can once again prove that this column is as timely as today's headlines, and I can get back to the real focus of this column which is Chambersburg, Pah. Replacing the Riot House (R.I.P.) as my humble abode is a three-bedroom apartment carved out of a very large old house, which I share with two young women (cue the theme to "Three's Company"). My room is in the upstairs (third floor of the building), and it appears to have been originally intended for a simpler time when people's height apparently averaged around 5'2". I am 6' tall, and as such I will be lucky to get out of here eventually with a minimal number of concussions from smacking my head against the lower sloped parts of the ceiling.

In addition to a couple bumps on the head, I also had the pleasure of almost getting my right middle finger chopped off by a rogue newspaper vending box. That's the most important finger, of course; in addition to the obvious uses in traffic, I have found you really can't do SQUAT with your right hand if you have a banged up middle finger. Now how did I do this to myself? Well, there's a story with that and it all goes with my need to be as informed and entertained with my morning paper as possible. See, after reading the Sub-Standard, errrr, Post-Standard daily at my last job, I needed something that would do the same job here in Chambersburg. I started with the local "fishwrap", as Jim Rome would call it, the Chambersburg Public-Opinion. Now, Chambersburg isn't exactly Podunk, or worse yet even Selinsgrove, but the P-O was pretty lacking, other than the local coupons and ads. So, I stepped up a notch and went with the Hagerstown Morning Herald, which costs 50 cents. 50 FRIGGIN' CENTS!!! Don't let the geniuses at the Syracuse Newspapers know that they can charge 15 cents more a day for a crappy newspaper, and that's what this was. Sure it had a more regional slant to it; I do, after all, live within two hours of three other states (those being Maryland, Virginia, and West Virginia... cue "Dueling Banjos" again). However, my main beef with this particular piece of newsprint was the fact that there's only ONE PAGE OF COMICS in it. I was raised on two pages, that is my birthright to read two pages of comics a day, dammit, and I'm not going to pay 50 CENTS for only ONE PAGE of comics. So, I upgraded to the Baltimore Sun. Sure, it's not quite local, but it's available, it's 50 cents, and it has the mandatory two pages of comics (although no "Get Fuzzy" which is my favorite strip these days, I'll have to deal somehow... *sigh*). However, it seems that by the time I get to the corner vending box after my morning at work, there's always only one copy left, the display copy. Have you ever tried prying these things out? It is a PAIN IN THE ASS. So on the third consecutive day of doing this, the inevitable happened and it became a pain elsewhere, as in my frustration to yank the paper out I accidentally let the door slip and it nailed my middle finger right on the tip.

The story does turn positive for our hero, folks. Now down to 9 1/2 fingers, I stop over to the local Sheetz to grab lunch. This is something I discovered on my last visit to Susquehanna University, my alma mater (see column #27). Sheetz is a gas station/convenience store, kinda like Mobil/On the Run, but much better. They make something called an M-T-O (Made-To-Order), which is a sandwich/sub/hot dog, prepared practically any way you could have it made, and they'll even make it on a BAGEL for you. I had an egg salad sandwich on a sesame seed bagel, with lettuce, and BACON!!! Why bacon? It was on the menu, that's why! And ohmygod, was it good. That just settles it for me, you're going to have to get a Sheetz up there in Syracuse, or else I'm never coming back, not even to visit (kidding... I think).

Now as to the other rustic charming quirks about Chambersburg. I have previously mentioned how incompetent I am in regard to navigating one-way streets. Well, the downtown area of this city, especially the main routes (11 and 30), is ALL ONE-WAY STREETS. I haven't taken any wrong way turns yet, but it's only been a week. On top of that, you drive down Route 11 South, and that particular one-way street crosses the one-way street known as US 30 West at a circle. Not a traffic circle, mind you, but a normal park-like circle with a fountain in it. And you don't drive around the circle counter-clockwise, you drive around it LITERALLY; if you're in the left lane, you go around the circle on the left side, if you're in the right lane, you take the right side. Bizarre.

Now back to the apartment, where one of the roommates had the foresight to get digital cable once upon a time. Those of you who have digital cable know why I think this is such a great thing; for me, it's two primary reasons: BBC America and the Game Show Network. BBC America means two words: MONTY PYTHON. And after that, you can flip over the the Game Show Network and watch an old episode of Family Feud from the late 70s and laugh at the sheer cheesiness of it all. Paradise, sheer paradise. And we get the Washington stations in addition to the Harrisburg and Hagerstown ones, although if you're sick of Chandra Levy, you may want to avoid their newscasts. The lone exception may be to turn on WUSA and guess whether or not the weekend anchor has had a nose job (I say yes).

After that, the remote takes me over to the NBC affiliate in Hagerstown, and I am confronted with the most annoying thing I have to deal with now that I am just a matter of minutes from Maryland: the Maryland accent. I have often stated to friends that the Maryland accent is the goofiest accent in the world, more so than a Boston accent, more so than a Long Island or Noo Yawk accent. Listening to isolated incidents of pronouncing the letter o as "oo", as in "phoon" instead of phone, is apt to produce giggles. However, as I now see examples of it everywhere (even the weekend weather person has one, and she has a THICK one), I am hoping and praying that I don't wind up with it. It is possible to pick up an accent by being expoosed to it for lawng enough, and frankly I doon't want to have to explain to people back hoome why I cain't talk normal noo more.