When the ability to take two days off in a row matched a date that my favorite rock band was scheduled to play in Philadelphia, I made the effort to get out of Vermont. It’s not an easy place for me to leave. The drive was eventful given the rainstorm in New Jersey which added some time and spice to it. Do they have advanced driver’s ed in NJ? Glad Matt was at the wheel (he grew up in Jersey). …The speeds, the brake lights, the changing lines – oh heck, maybe I just haven’t been out of Vermont in a while. Great to re-connect with a city that I loved calling home for a few years.
Thursday: Arrived safely in Chestnut Hill just before 5 p.m. where my Philly pal Chris and his girlfriend Alice were waiting at their awesome home. Our 24 hours of rock star Philly began perfectly with music and snacks. Chris is known for his good taste in music and for throwing good dance parties. It’s no wonder we are friends.
The four of us piled in the car and headed to the Tower Theater in Upper Darby, where My Morning Jacket – the band that lured me down – was playing. Chris and I came up with the idea of running a tour group for people who wanted to see the homes where cool famous people from Philly were raised. People like Teddy Pendergrass, the guys from the Roots, Tina Fey and Cheri Oteri, Will Smith, etc. The conversation kept creeping up at dinner about who would make the cut – it’s a big freaking list.
Dinner was at one of those fantastic hole-in-the wall BYOB Vietnamese joints where I told the waiter I wanted to order whatever the most popular vegetarian dish was. Chris thought this order might stump the guy whose accent and phrasing let us know that English wasn’t his first language. 
The waiter replied with “Curry or lemongrass?” I smirked at Chris and ordered the curry.
Once we were at the venue, Alice made the comment that there were probably more people in the Tower Theater than live in my town in Vermont. I just looked it up. She was right. (714 to 3,119) Danced my ass off, and gave nods and smiles to those doing the same. Thought of Paris and waved my hands in the air a little higher and felt the magic energy of music that so many of us share. The show was spectacular. Buy their album, see their shows, remember their name: My Morning Jacket.
Chris’ teenage son wasn’t home and so we got to sleep in his bedroom. Woke up Friday morning to Weezer and NOF X posters on the walls and a stack of CDs topped by Rage Against the Machine. Another bedroom had a drum kit and guitars in it where the teen practices with his band. Chris said they are getting some gigs. My friend’s kid is in a rock band. Yeah, man!
Friday: I concocted an itinerary that would cram in as much of “my” Philly as possible on Friday before we had to head north to Vermont. For me, a Saturday off is even more rare than two days off in a row so we had to get back. Even though he’s from neighboring NJ, Matt had only been to Philly once – when he was 12 and in the Boy Scouts. I lived six hilarious years there in the late 90’s until 2001, much of it downtown – or “Center City” as the locals call it. I tried to balance what I thought he’d dig with some places I wanted to reminisce about. First stop, Reading Terminal Market.
The place was jamming: food every which way and people and conversations everywhere. While waiting for Matt to get out the restroom, I stood by the shoeshine stand where a couple of older black dudes were telling stories and kind of teasing each other. I chatted up a guy who seemed to know everybody. Turned out he was the Assistant General Manager of the Market. Told him I owned a bra shop in Vermont. We talked about the joys of “running a place.”
Tummies full and caffeinated, we meandered a few blocks down to the Liberty Bell. It was a cloudless blue-sky warm November day. At the bell entrance, a Ben Franklin quote caught my eye, “The bell rings and I must go among the grave ones and talk politics.” Spoke right to me. Scooted over to Fourth Street and into Society Hill. Paused at 214 Spruce to show Matt where I lived back when I was married to Jim and it was my job to sell music. Those were some good days.
My feet practically walked on their own to South Street and brought us to Jim’s (no relation) Steaks. Ducked into a western wear shop and bought me a pair of boots and an anchor belt buckle. Loved talking to the sales clerk who was south Philly born and bred and had a family full of Mummers. We talked about the similarities between bra and boot shopping – how one is always bigger than the other, how you can be four sizes depending on the boot or bra, and that not all styles work on all people. I wore the boots out just like women wear their new bras out of the shop. Felt like a rock star myself – ha!
We headed back north to Olde City where I lived after my divorce and lunched at the Continental. I told
Matt to just trust me with the order because there was no way I was going to deny him (or me) of one of my all time favorite meals: Rad Na Thai Noodles and the Continental Salad. Headed up a block up to my old alley named Cuthbert where I used to live in a loft that had a fire escape. Sent up a silent prayer of gratitude to this place that held it’s arms around me through my divorce and 9-11. Ducked into Olde City Coffee, hit a couple of shops on third (A Jonathan Adler store, what????) and clunked back up Arch eight or so blocks in hopes to remember where we parked the car. The clock said 4:20.
Oh Philly, you sure do rock in so many ways. One can do a lot in 24 hours! I get two days off in a row again around New Year’s Day…hmmm.
Forever a sister to your brotherly love. Thank you, Philadelphia,
Joy
If you go:
Lincoln Drive: An absolutely beautiful tree-lined, tight-laned, curvy-durvy drive that’s even better when someone who knows how to drive it drives you.
Reading Terminal Market: Take a newbie here and watch their eyes pop out of their head as there are too many food and conversation options to describe. We had a stellar breakfast at Pearl Oyster Bar. (12th and Arch)
The Liberty Bell: So worth a visit even just to learn the history of the crack. (6th and Market)
St. Mary’s Church: Read the inscriptions on the front of the church and go around to the back for one of the quaintest cemeteries you’ll ever see. Inspiration rests here. (4th between Spruce and Walnut)
Jim’s Steaks: May the smell and sight of those guys making cheesesteaks in the window never change. I’ll know I’ve made it when they hang my autographed “Best cheesesteak ever” photo up on the wall. (4th and South)
Gilly Jeans: Finding boots that “work on the foot” or “hit nicely on the calf” isn’t easy. Nice selection here. Marisa will set you straight. Cool belt buckles and western wear too. (320 South Street)
The Continental: While it’s clutch to get to sit in the booths along the window, sitting in the middle of the restaurant lets you view all the people sitting in the booths along the window…along with the martini olive chandeliers that hang above their heads. (2nd and Market)
Little Saigon: Just looked them up on Yelp and a far majority of the 72 reviews were 5 Star. My curry vegetarian dinner was delicious. Alice’s chicken and shrimp looked amazing. I ate most of the table’s spring roll appetizer. If you find yourself wanting to grab a bite before a show at the Tower, I highly recommend! (113 Fairfield Avenue, Upper Darby)
