Protecting The Square

It's important to take stock of one's attitudes and try to root out irrational, unproductive beliefs, especially at this emotion-laden time of year.

In that spirit, I'm really disappointed in myself for the narrow chauvinistic way I've grown to think of Regent Square as being "my Regent Square." I confess, I liked it just the way it was on St. Patrick's Day, 2011.

Well, it's not "my Regent Square" and it never was. It's a place with houses and businesses, governed by the laws of politics and economics. It's also the place I've called home for decades.

But I've come to realize that all the warm feelings and memories I have about the place are just a canvas my own peculiar ideas, hatched in my own peculiar brain, stretched over a framework of bricks, steel and asphalt. For me, Regent Square actually is a state of mind.

The immediate cause of this self-examination is my realizing how emotionally invested I've become in events at

Really, what's the big deal? It's just one gas station replacing another one, according to the laws of politics and economics. And if I'm honest, it might even be a better deal for me for fuel and incidentals than Gerenyi's Sunoco ever was.

What it comes down to, I think, is one of those pesky irrational attitudes. For me, "GetGo" always has meant the monstrosity at 408 Penn Avenue in Wilkinsburg, five blocks from my house, that offers gasoline plus "GetGo Kitchens," kerosene, lottery sales and a "Redbox DVD Rental Kiosk" from 5 a.m. to midnight.

It also offers limitless noise, litter and surly employee dysfunction. If you can find a more disagreeable and menacing enterprise in the East End, let me know.

Granted, GetGo isn't proposing the same deal at Braddock and Hutchinson. But still, I wonder. The same outfit that created 408 Penn Avenue is in charge here. I'm not inclined to trust them to respect the neighborhood—my neighborhood.

The essential charm of Regent Square, for me, always has been its humbleness. Some of the establishments, let's face it, are pretty tacky. Some of the business owners make buckets of money in the Square and motor home at night to the suburbs to count their treasure.

But everything fits and has a certain pleasing organic harmony. It has evolved to fit its community's needs and wishes—just as the 6700 block of Reynolds Street has in "Downtown Point Breeze," two miles away.

But now there's a corporate player in the Square—the first one ever. Sure, I know, it's irrational, but images of Wal-Mart and UPMC come to mind. Corporations sprawl, they chisel, they despoil. That's what they do—and they're very, very good at it.