I’ve never been to a city that loves itself more than Pittsburgh.
This is not a criticism. After three days, I also loved Pittsburgh, a quaint, pretty city with interesting people doing interesting things, and a healthy dash of Old World, working-class charm.
But — and this is where Pittsburgh won me over — it is not a city impressed with itself.
New York, San Francisco and Portland, Ore., are wonderful cities that can’t resist preening when passing mirrors to remind themselves just how wonderful they are. Pittsburgh is a wonderful city that doesn’t even see the mirror. It just turns to its buddies and says, “Hey, yinz guys, let’s go have a beer.”
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