WEST MIFFLIN, Pa. - Last Saturday, Post-Gazette columnist and local bon vivant Brian O'Neill attended his parish's annual picnic at Kennywood Park instead of writing his Sunday column, which was due in several hours. "I ain't worried about it," O'Neill told his fellow picnickers. "I can shake [columns] out of my sleeve." He bragged he would "find something to write about" while waiting in line for the rides. "That's how I got the paper to pay for my admission," he confided to his pastor.As O'Neill strode toward the Turtle, a potato whizzed within inches of his forehead. He spun around and saw the perpetrator selling french fries at the Potato Patch, former state legislator Frank Pistella, ousted in the May primary due to O'Neill's crusade against the legislature's pay grab.
"Thanks a lot, jerk," shouted Pistella. "Half of Harrisburg is working at Kennywood because of you."
"Glad to hear they've found something they're suited for," yelled O'Neill as he made his way toward the Thunderbolt.
Thunderbolt attendant Geoff Puchalski, 21, a six-year veteran of the park, described what happened. "This guy with a note pad started asking me if I had an opinion about foot fungus. I was like, 'dude, I'm working right now.' And he was like, 'so am I, dude.'"
O'Neill stormed off in the direction of the Racer, where he spotted park employees Chrystale Davis, 21 and Tina Vignone, 20. "How would you girls like to get your names in a major metropolitan daily newspaper?" O'Neill barked.
"They don't make those any more," said Ms. Davis.
"I'm Brian O'Neill, the legendary journalist and scourge of the Pennsylvania state legislature. You surely recognize me from my familiar picture in the Sunday and Thursday editions."
"Yeah, I recognize you," said Ms. Vignone. "Hey Chrystale, that's the dude in the comics who's married to Blondie."
O'Neill whipped out his notepad. "I want to know what young people think. You're going to vote to oust the legislators who backed the pay raise, aren't you?" He grabbed Ms. Vignone's wrist and twisted it. Ms. Vignone winced. "In fact, you want to shrink the size of the legislature, don't you? And what about stuffing the All-Star ballot box? Young people favor that, don't they?" O'Neill squeezed tighter.
"Mister, I don't get paid enough to take this - - - - - ," pleaded Ms. Vignone. O'Neill unleashed her. "On top of that, the state just took $52 out of my first paycheck, and that hurts."
O'Neill's eyes lit up. "Those Harrisburg bastards!" he blurted out. "That $52 annual emergency service tax is going to ruin your minimum-wage lives! That's all I need." O'Neill darted off to the Kennywood front office near Noah's Ark where he corralled Kennywood director of community relations Andy Quinn. "Tell me about this $52," O'Neill barked.
Quinn gave him the brush. "Look, that's a non-issue." said Quinn. "It's $52. Big deal. Besides, why do you care?"
"Don't you know who I am?" O'Neill said in his most incredulous tone. "I'm the most respected writer at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette."
"Oh, why didn't you say so?" said Quinn smiling. He picked up the phone and quickly dialed. "Honey, you'll never believe who's in my office right now. Peter Leo!"
