A Day At the Races

Not horses (or dogs, for the perverted among you) since Derby Day is ancient history and this is a dispatch from Philly (which is barely, but technically, still the north). I am speaking of the Commerce Bank Triple Crown of Cycling, which concluded this past weekend.

As we were busy tearing around Philly on Saturday ticking off a veritable, nay formidable, list of chores, all across town, we kept spotting vans festooned with expensive bike wheels and sponsor logos. Could the race be already upon us? Yikes! So, Sunday saw us hurriedly packing some "serious" camera equipment, donning hiking boots (did I say, "serious"?) and making the trek to "The Wall" a/k/a Lyseum Avenue in Manayunk.

It turned out to be a wonderful day of cycling and yours truly had some fun with the camera. After catching a couple of grueling (for the cyclists) laps at the Wall, we headed down to the Ben Franklin parkway for a change of scene as the race picked up speed on the flat sections of the course. Alas, such is self-imposed adulthood that duty called and we had to be home, and thus miss one of the more exciting parts of the race on Lemon Hill. Next year... (sigh)

Sunday was a good day in Philly.

Photo Credit -- Jamal Elias

Just Another Manic Tuesday: So, Who Stole Our Streets?

I promised to write about Philly musings so here goes.

At approximately 8 a.m. (US EST) on Friday, June 1st, the quiet neighborhood of UC/WP (University City/West Philly) was rocked by a massive heist that took place right under our very schnozes. What was this "massive heist" you ask? Did someone's house get burgled? Was someone's car broken into for the fine, dorm-quality blanket that was lying on the backseat just taunting, ney, entrapping, the casual car-vandal/passerby? Well, that wouldn't be "massive" now, would it? I'm speaking of our streets. Yes, our streets have been stolen. How, preythee good madame or sire, you ask politely, is it possible to steal streets. Well, here's how! The Streets Division of the City of Philadelphia came about two weeks ago and took away the old street surface on our block. Generally speaking, even I am not addled enough (at least, not yet) to equate that innocent, municipal act with theft. However, when the city contractors didn't return with a newly repaved and resurfaced, gleaming asphalt street, which we've already paid for, the civilized term in common English parlance for such an act is -- theft. Mayor Street, we want our street back, and if this is just a misunderstanding and you simply borrowed the street (I have to admit, ours was particularly lovely with its irresistible, moon-like craters), no worries, I'm setting up an account where you can direct the interest payments. I have to warn you, though -- I charge near-usurious rates.

It's Gonna Be a Lovely Day

It's already been a lovely day here in Philly. After finishing up lunch at GIWA (where I've now extracted the promise that I'll get the "spicier" bean paste sauce the next time I'm there, i.e., I'm now FINALLY a regular), I went on what was to be a quick stroll to peek into the window of a boutique on Walnut Street just a couple of block up (west?) from Rittenhouse Square. The store was (sadly) out of business. As I walked back to work on Sansom, I couldn't resist the urge to step into Fat Jack's where 3 young men of differing age and ethnicities were in the thick of a rather serious conversation about which issues of Spawn were the best (consensus -- Moore, Gaimen, or Morrison). There was some critique of Morrison and his "media-savviness" and the conversation then veered into the indie wave in movies. Still eavesdropping, I gave a slight nod to the store owner in his Arkham sweats (I'd kill to get that T-shirt in my size), and kept browsing until I found a book of short stories by Moore (his first forey into this form). The young man who was carrying on the "serious" movie/graphic novel indie genre conversation gave a thumbs up on my choice. They always treat me like Tinkerbell at a UFC (Ultimate Fighting Club) fight:o) It's quite sweet. Girls read comics too; even old girls like me.



As I hurried back to work (after having done the Blackberry, voice-mail emergency check), I had to go into one last store on Sansom (bet. 17th and 18th) -- the Joseph Fox Bookstore. Lest you think I while my time away bookstore hopping, I actually had a stated mission. I wanted to get a book for my little West Philly neighbor. Her comment about one of my dogs will always ring clear in my head -- "Her head is just like a SKULL!" she said. I took that as a compliment, of course, and I think it was meant as such. So, I promised to reward her artistic insight with a book from my collection. My plan (although she doesn't know about it) is to give her a book a month. She's already an avid reader I hear:o) In any case, she gave the perfect reason to get to know this gem of a bookstore that has the most amazingly carefully selected collection of both adult and children's books. I came away with my hands full! I've rarely had the experience of finding all the books I love in one tiny store. Well, this had it all -- Tintin, Asterix, Dahl, and so on. Bravo! The storeowner is a lovely, graceful lady whose passion for children's books was nothing short of infectious. So, we chatted for a while (we both love Sempe, the French cartoonist, and did I say books?). I also came away with an invitation to "work" the store on the anticipated midnight of Potter 7. I'd PAY for that opportunity as those who know me and my methodic madness well know. I think I even promised to be in some sort of costume if the young lady at the store was up for it!

Back to work and to a puzzling agreement. Sigh....

Today, I love Philly!