we tootled down to philly earlier this month to see the rolling stones, a commute i'd happily make again given the postapocalyptic condition of metlife stadium, their closest venue to us. by the time i got through the ticketmaster queue the only affordable-ish seats were part of some VIP package that earned us two massive boxes of questionable swag (did i need a hackney diamonds sippy cup? a wireless phone charger? i brought one of the sets down to a now-PA-based friend we visited the night before the show and she got all excited when she mistook the branded playing cards for branded cigarettes, but no such luck). these tickets also earned us the right to enter a general-admission pit—not one beside the stage, a tertiary pit behind a seated section in the middle of the field—a couple of hours early, so by 5pm i was standing a few inches taller than the people in front of and behind me, thanks to some A/V cord cover platform, and wondering if i had to wait until it got dark to start eating the peanuts i'd bought upstairs and dropping the shells on the ground. i couldn't tell you whose idea this early-to-the-GA-pit idea was, but i can tell you that it turns everyone into a cop, because once people with cheaper tickets and different-colored wristbands started worming their way through the spaces we'd staked out before they were born, even the sweet retiree next to me who'd brought his adult daughter to the show and last seen the stones in 1972 (when he was a ninth grader and they shared a bill with stevie wonder and tina and ike turner) was ready to rip off interlopers' heads and shit in their neckholes. cocktails did not improve this vibe! i agreed to plan the trip and show because i didn't see david bowie or johnny cash before they died and was willing to insure myself against regret that i'd never seen the stones, and i stand by that investment, terrible GA seats aside (the power move in situations like that is to hold fast until the day of the show and buy seats through something like stubhub). sure, we spent most of our time watching mick and keef on the jumbotron rather than through the frankly rude hairstyles of the half-ogres standing in front of us, but standing on a field on a warm summer night and hearing the opening notes of the song bill gates paid millions to license for windows 95 felt like turning to see one of warhol's jackies wink at you. as pauline kael would say, i succumbed. i'd estimate 85% of our fellow concertgoers were wearing shirts from previous stones tours, and the vibe was not unlike what friends have described from, say, jimmy buffett shows; there was a strong old-people-prom undercurrent. "okay, everybody out," a record-store owner had barked at joe and assorted other shoppers earlier that afternoon, "i'm taking my dad to the stones show!"
the rest of the philly surgical-strike weekend was wonderful; the cafe that's been making us a beanful, oniony artichoke salad for 20 years made it for us again, and in trying to shop for quilting fabric i accidentally attended a lovely multimedia show about a cabaret artist who came out to her aunt as trans and was told she had a twin she'd eaten in the womb (so her museum experience began with me eating a pale, green-white chocolate fetus that tasted like frosting). she's my little rock and roll?
Showing posts with label philly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label philly. Show all posts
08.27.12
[The balloonist John] Wise had made roughly four hundred flights "and had had all manner of thrilling adventures," [the Swedish aeronaut S.A.] Andrée wrote. "He had flown with [balloons] in sunshine, rain, snow, thunder showers and hurricanes. He had been stuck on chimneys, smoke stacks, lightning rods and church spires, and he had been dragged through rivers, lakes, and over garden plots and forests primeval. His balloons had whirled like tops, caught fire, exploded and fallen to the ground like stones. The old man himself, however, had always escaped unhurt and counted his experiences as proof of how safe the art of flying really was.
"In order to convince a few fellow citizens who had been inconsiderate enough to doubt his thesis, Mr. Wise once made an ascent in Philadelphia, and while in mid-air he deliberately exploded his balloon. Then using the remains of the bag as a parachute he landed right in the midst of the doubters. What effect this had on them I do not know, but the old man himself felt better."
[...]
Not long after that Andrée fell sick with an intestinal complaint that he believed was caused by drinking ice water, but may have been from his living mostly on cake, candy, and ice cream, according to his journals. Having stayed five months in Philadelphia, he went back to Sweden.
(alec wilkinson, from the ice balloon: s.a. andrée and the heroic age of arctic exploration)
09.06.11: the dirty dozen {wrought iron in philadelphia}
do not make the mistake of assuming that a safari in search of immobile architectural details is less hazardous than a safari in search of moving creatures; indeed, one assumes at one's peril that architectural details cannot move.
do not make the mistake of assuming that a safari in search of immobile architectural details is less hazardous than a safari in search of moving creatures; indeed, one assumes at one's peril that architectural details cannot move.
02.05.10
{disturbing bob ross cat mashup courtesy of baby jo and george}
finding a cat hasn't been easy for us; for months my visits to petfinder inevitably ended in tears. when i was in the mood to look, our parameters made things nearly impossible: we wanted a kitten (my call*) who needed a home (also my call - i would never go to a breeder instead of adopting a shelter cat) who...was a siamese.** this is how we ended up looking at photos of kittens in berwick, pennsylvania. three blue lynx point siamese kittens there had materialized online around christmas and, presumably, been spoken for; two weeks later, on a random thursday morning, one of them appeared again. joe gave me the okay to put in an application - shelters these days ask for an application before they'll talk to you about a particular cat - and three hours later, i got a call from diana, the little guy's foster mom. "your vet knows you by name," she said with wonder. (well, sure: i was there at least once a week for months last year, and at least once a month for years before that. i also have a tendency to burst into tears in his office, so the staff is rather protective of me.) she'd called our vet and our references - shelters these days also ask for references - and said that our application was impeccable. we even beat out a vet tech who'd also applied for the kitten, a detail that, i admit, really pleases me: if you'll forgive the gaucherie of speaking highly of myself, i'm a damn fine cat-guardian.
two weeks after that, after cat-offers and -deposits and -photo-exchanging and -trip-planning, we set off to meet diana in philly (which was more convenient to her place near baltimore and our place in new york than berwick would have been). i called our hotel and made sure that they were cool with kitten-trafficking in their lobby,*** we spent the afternoon and evening kicking around our favorite places in town, and by sunday morning steve nash was upon us.
i'd forgotten how emphatic the little ones are. steve hasn't stopped moving since we let him out of his carrier at our place on sunday afternoon: there are chuck-tails to attack, books to topple, bulbs of garlic to gnaw (?). he doesn't really meow, but he has the deafening kitten-purr that rattles his whole body. he blows out his energy reserves so completely that he passes out on his stomach, arms straight out in front of him and out in back like a bunny, face-down on the sofa. we're exhausted. it's marvelous.
{disturbing bob ross cat mashup courtesy of baby jo and george}
finding a cat hasn't been easy for us; for months my visits to petfinder inevitably ended in tears. when i was in the mood to look, our parameters made things nearly impossible: we wanted a kitten (my call*) who needed a home (also my call - i would never go to a breeder instead of adopting a shelter cat) who...was a siamese.** this is how we ended up looking at photos of kittens in berwick, pennsylvania. three blue lynx point siamese kittens there had materialized online around christmas and, presumably, been spoken for; two weeks later, on a random thursday morning, one of them appeared again. joe gave me the okay to put in an application - shelters these days ask for an application before they'll talk to you about a particular cat - and three hours later, i got a call from diana, the little guy's foster mom. "your vet knows you by name," she said with wonder. (well, sure: i was there at least once a week for months last year, and at least once a month for years before that. i also have a tendency to burst into tears in his office, so the staff is rather protective of me.) she'd called our vet and our references - shelters these days also ask for references - and said that our application was impeccable. we even beat out a vet tech who'd also applied for the kitten, a detail that, i admit, really pleases me: if you'll forgive the gaucherie of speaking highly of myself, i'm a damn fine cat-guardian.
two weeks after that, after cat-offers and -deposits and -photo-exchanging and -trip-planning, we set off to meet diana in philly (which was more convenient to her place near baltimore and our place in new york than berwick would have been). i called our hotel and made sure that they were cool with kitten-trafficking in their lobby,*** we spent the afternoon and evening kicking around our favorite places in town, and by sunday morning steve nash was upon us.
i'd forgotten how emphatic the little ones are. steve hasn't stopped moving since we let him out of his carrier at our place on sunday afternoon: there are chuck-tails to attack, books to topple, bulbs of garlic to gnaw (?). he doesn't really meow, but he has the deafening kitten-purr that rattles his whole body. he blows out his energy reserves so completely that he passes out on his stomach, arms straight out in front of him and out in back like a bunny, face-down on the sofa. we're exhausted. it's marvelous.
*though there are lots of wonderful older cats, i really wanted to raise one right from the beginning - and we lost jude so young. i couldn't handle falling for a cat his age with potential health problems i couldn't anticipate.
**joe was exposed to photos of manray at a vulnerable point ("can we adopt him?" "no, that's jamie's cat!"); he insisted on a siamese.
***"we're paying a hundred dollars to spend the night there," said joe, "and they just paid that guy twenty dollars to be on the phone with you for that long."
06.22.09: freedom trail
joe and i were required in philly this weekend, so we hopped a train bright and early saturday morning. as in april, i couldn't be bothered to take pictures of independence hall, but i did strike up an acquaintance with the mushrooms growing in front of it. may i present some of our nation's forefungus:
the full set is here. many are out of focus, a few are strangely cropped, and i switched dimensions halfway through, but internets, they are all patriots.
joe and i were required in philly this weekend, so we hopped a train bright and early saturday morning. as in april, i couldn't be bothered to take pictures of independence hall, but i did strike up an acquaintance with the mushrooms growing in front of it. may i present some of our nation's forefungus:
the full set is here. many are out of focus, a few are strangely cropped, and i switched dimensions halfway through, but internets, they are all patriots.
04.23.09: PA redux
alright: philadelphia. as i tweeted (and said about four thousand times, i'm told), it's pinchably cute. we had the good fortune to be in town for dazzling weather - breezy sunshine straight through - and the flowering trees had just started to shed their early spring blossoms, so everything was covered with petals. revolving doors and air conditioned shops would kick up little white eddies. it was like wandering around in a snow globe.
our pre-trip research was far more fruitful than i'd expected it to be: tripadvisor led me to the independent hotel [nb 2016: now the independent philadelphia hotel], a little boutique place in rittenhouse square, and travelzoo hooked us up there; we paid $119 for a room with a pressed tin ceiling in the bath.* design*sponge's city guide did us several solids, too: in fact, most of our random decisions worked out so well that i started to expect a stroke of bad luck just to balance things out. i'm used to special occasion doom, you see.
doomless occasions are so nice, internets. as we sipped pints and peoplewatched by the windows at mcgillin's,** joe's blackberry beeped: an anniversary note from his parents saying how happy they are that i'm their daughter.
alright: philadelphia. as i tweeted (and said about four thousand times, i'm told), it's pinchably cute. we had the good fortune to be in town for dazzling weather - breezy sunshine straight through - and the flowering trees had just started to shed their early spring blossoms, so everything was covered with petals. revolving doors and air conditioned shops would kick up little white eddies. it was like wandering around in a snow globe.
our pre-trip research was far more fruitful than i'd expected it to be: tripadvisor led me to the independent hotel [nb 2016: now the independent philadelphia hotel], a little boutique place in rittenhouse square, and travelzoo hooked us up there; we paid $119 for a room with a pressed tin ceiling in the bath.* design*sponge's city guide did us several solids, too: in fact, most of our random decisions worked out so well that i started to expect a stroke of bad luck just to balance things out. i'm used to special occasion doom, you see.
doomless occasions are so nice, internets. as we sipped pints and peoplewatched by the windows at mcgillin's,** joe's blackberry beeped: an anniversary note from his parents saying how happy they are that i'm their daughter.
imaginary vacation awards
best bar: national mechanics (22 south 3rd st. @ market). i didn't even try to blend like a local when i got a good look at the interior of this place: it was designed so well that i needed at least a dozen pictures immediately. the apothecary jar terraria! the lamps made of pharmaceutical bottles and whippets! the bill cosby pint glasses!*** if you find yourself in philly, find this place immediately.
best use of artichoke: three-way tie, osteria (alla giudia), amada (on flatbread with wild mushrooms, black truffles, and manchego), and tria (in salad with grilled asparagus, white beans, tomato-onion relish and pine nuts). inspired by joe's dad and his all-haggis scottish adventure, i tried to have an all-artichoke weekend. an excellent decision, if i do say so myself.
best use of al gore: this room.
imaginary reading group discussion questions
01 if you were to eat one foodstuff at every meal for a whole trip, what would it be?
02 have you been to philly? how was it?
03 when joe and i finally buy an apartment, should our bathroom have a tin ceiling or a little chandelier?**** (both would be overkill even for me).
*which strikes me as kind of brilliant, as it'd be so much easier to clean than the painted ceilings i've always had (no weird condensation-mold!). note to self: install pressed tin in bathroom.
**cheers for that tip, anonymous commenter!
***i don't have a picture of those, but...ask me about them sometime.
****i was skeptical at first, too, but they're surprisingly pleasing.
04.21.09: vapour trail
we're in the last throes of getting the ladymag's june issue out into the world, so the epic poem about our trip will have to wait. the faux haiku version: philadelphia / is goddamn adorable. / we will be back soon.
clicking the mcgillin's photo will take you to my whole foreigntouristastic set, which features joe recovering from the mutter museum, fake steak, and deeply questionable rocky tributes. not bad for 38 hours.
we're in the last throes of getting the ladymag's june issue out into the world, so the epic poem about our trip will have to wait. the faux haiku version: philadelphia / is goddamn adorable. / we will be back soon.
clicking the mcgillin's photo will take you to my whole foreigntouristastic set, which features joe recovering from the mutter museum, fake steak, and deeply questionable rocky tributes. not bad for 38 hours.
04.14.09: the dirty dozen, part III {le vent du metro}
09 heartening spot of the day: via rachel, i discovered the bright side project, a site that spreads the word about designers and rewards clever commenters (rachel won a gold clutch by telling a marvelous story about bread dough and her family's old car). dailycandy explains it well:
10 speaking of the buggers, we're very nearly at yet another finish line: six weeks after we found our first little friends on the mattress, we get to unpack our apartment! on thursday, that is. at present it still looks like this (the giant ziplocs have to stick around for three weeks after the last exterminator visit in case anything decided to linger and hatch - blech). the drama of reimbursement is far from over, however: though our management company promised they would cover our expenses, they ultimately offered credit for half the receipts we forwarded (a thousand-dollar difference). we explained in the friendliest possible terms that we were already lowballing our out-of-pocket costs - in my original letter, i'd tried to demonstrate our good faith by including an extra five pages of receipts for which we weren't asking to be reimbursed - and were told that we'd receive full credit if we signed a new lease (our old one is up in september). internets, my needs are simple: i want to stop imagining that things are crawling on me when i sleep, and i want to repair this giant bug-shaped hole in our bank account without going to housing court. cross your fingers for us!
11 in happier news, we finally got something together for our anniversary this weekend. it's not our wedding date, mind you, but it's ten years since we started dating in oxford; a decade is pretty cool, no? the original plan was to jet back to england for a long weekend in our old stomping grounds, but we're smack in the middle of shipping the june issue here at work - and tickets to london, recession or no, are still pretty outrageous. philadelphia is only an hour away, though, and joe and i have both been itching to go there for awhile now: alors, we shall celebrate in philly! train tickets are a mere $45 or so each way, and i found a good deal on a boutique hotel near rittenhouse square; we've got reservations at osteria (saturday night) and amada (an early dinner on sunday), i'm looking into museums, and i've been studying design*sponge's philadelphia design guide. my trip folder sez epic in loopy rainbow script across its cover; here's hoping, you know? any hidden philly gems we should know about?
12 in bright side and giant plastic bag news, giant inflatable animals made of subway exhaust (or, as joe and i call the footy breeze that whooshes down the platform and curls our hair on the lower east side, le vent du metro)! this footage has been everywhere, but that doesn't keep me from watching it several times a week.
09 heartening spot of the day: via rachel, i discovered the bright side project, a site that spreads the word about designers and rewards clever commenters (rachel won a gold clutch by telling a marvelous story about bread dough and her family's old car). dailycandy explains it well:
These days, it’s pretty tough to find the sunny side of the street.my bed bugs comment is unlikely to win me a toywatch (a shame, as i've been batting my eyes at them for several months now - we feel strongly about enormous watches at kidchamp HQ), but you never know, right?
But stationery designer Tristan Shout Brando is a ray of light during dark times. She has come up with The Bright Side Project, which is dedicated to reminding people that there is still goodness in this crazy world.
Here’s how it works: Every day in March there will be a question posed by an accessory designer (coming months will have different themes). One lucky reader with a creative answer will win a creation from said designer. Easy as that. The queries are intended to get people thinking on the — you guessed it — bright side. (Think, “How do you define internal peace?”)
10 speaking of the buggers, we're very nearly at yet another finish line: six weeks after we found our first little friends on the mattress, we get to unpack our apartment! on thursday, that is. at present it still looks like this (the giant ziplocs have to stick around for three weeks after the last exterminator visit in case anything decided to linger and hatch - blech). the drama of reimbursement is far from over, however: though our management company promised they would cover our expenses, they ultimately offered credit for half the receipts we forwarded (a thousand-dollar difference). we explained in the friendliest possible terms that we were already lowballing our out-of-pocket costs - in my original letter, i'd tried to demonstrate our good faith by including an extra five pages of receipts for which we weren't asking to be reimbursed - and were told that we'd receive full credit if we signed a new lease (our old one is up in september). internets, my needs are simple: i want to stop imagining that things are crawling on me when i sleep, and i want to repair this giant bug-shaped hole in our bank account without going to housing court. cross your fingers for us!
11 in happier news, we finally got something together for our anniversary this weekend. it's not our wedding date, mind you, but it's ten years since we started dating in oxford; a decade is pretty cool, no? the original plan was to jet back to england for a long weekend in our old stomping grounds, but we're smack in the middle of shipping the june issue here at work - and tickets to london, recession or no, are still pretty outrageous. philadelphia is only an hour away, though, and joe and i have both been itching to go there for awhile now: alors, we shall celebrate in philly! train tickets are a mere $45 or so each way, and i found a good deal on a boutique hotel near rittenhouse square; we've got reservations at osteria (saturday night) and amada (an early dinner on sunday), i'm looking into museums, and i've been studying design*sponge's philadelphia design guide. my trip folder sez epic in loopy rainbow script across its cover; here's hoping, you know? any hidden philly gems we should know about?
12 in bright side and giant plastic bag news, giant inflatable animals made of subway exhaust (or, as joe and i call the footy breeze that whooshes down the platform and curls our hair on the lower east side, le vent du metro)! this footage has been everywhere, but that doesn't keep me from watching it several times a week.
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