stepping off the edge

Well at last! He is actually getting back to work: another carefully crafted, well thought out, blog post… please, I couldn’t even keep a straight face on that one. As I might have mentioned, these musings just come out of my head, flop onto the keyboard misspellings and all (thank you, Mrs. T) and into the blog. No outlines, cast of characters, time lines, or other such nonsense, just the tarnished pearls of my “wisdom.”

A quick note on the frequency of this blog. When we land in a place for more than just a quick hotel stay and back on the road, the computer never even comes out of the car. It follows the following schedule;

Load in.
Take a shower.
Have a cocktail.
Play a few card games.
TV time.
Sleep.
Repeat.

So please forgive me, dear reader, if I am a bit lax in my posts. There will come a time, especially when we are a week in Vancouver and Victoria, where I promise to catch up. Onward….

First night in Philadelphia we were invited to meet friends Deb and Sandy from at a roof top bar. Interesting, since it is out in the open and it started to rain. Evidently the people of Philly do not really care! Everyone either kept drinking or ducked inside the adjoining hallway and waited five minuets until it stopped. Seems like a practiced response.

As you can see, we were in our finest California foul weather gear!

No trip to this fine city would be complete without 1. A trip to the liberty bell and 2. A cheese steak. We did both but I only have pictures of the bell. I was so enraptured with the perfect cheese steak eaten right out on the sidewalk that alas, no picture.

No, not Mrs T, just a random tourist photo bombing.

Interesting juxtaposition of images… Chef Hercules, chef to our first president. His entire story can be studied in the book, “The Generals Cook.” Worth a read. Good insight into revolutionary days. My saddest take away was learning that in Philadelphia, the nation’s capital at the time, slavery was not allowed and further, if a slave was brought to that city and remained for 90 days, they were automatically free. Feeling good? Just wait, Washington would ship his entire house “staff” back to Virginia before the 90 days and then had them brought back so they could not log the full 90 days required by Philadelphia law. Great men can also be capable of not so great things. Do we trash his life’s work because of this? Some would say yes but, while it tarnishes his historic image, it must be taken as part of the whole life and achievements. I have no clear answer to this question.

On to our wonderful neighborhood, home exchange choreographed by none other than my personal travel agent, Mrs. T. Little side street/alley. The word eclectic comes to mind and I think it was even in the description. Converted neighborhood convenience store would be more accurate. Single story, the only one around. Flat roof, strange layout and a bedroom area so small one side of the bed was against the wall. Who’s side you ask? Yes, mine. But after several places like this I have become adept at crawling out of bed at night on hands and knees for the evening bathroom ritual. Enough of my horrible trauma and first world man pain. [Editor’s note: It wasn’t that bad and I moved the bed so he could get out. It’s a little bit “man flu” syndrome.]

The neighborhood was distinctly Italian. It was complete with the Italian street market two blocks from us with every food and produce you could imagine as well as spectacular butcher shops, fresh pasta stores and bakeries. I was in heaven. Left town with all of the treats I know and love, aged provolone, all sorts of salami, semolina Italian bread, and anything else I could stuff into one of the many coolers we use. Heaven…. [Editor’s note: If there are two choices, I usually pick the location over the place, thus the tiny apartment. Ok, I’m done defending myself.]

When we walked to meet our friends at the bar we passed through several ethnic hoods from Italian to Vietnamese, Puerto Rican to Chinese. It was thrilling. Did I mention there is a store that only makes porchetta? Amazing.

One street/alley right off the Italian market was covered in mosaics. I do not know if it was planned or spontaneous but it was brilliant.

A satisfying tapas dinner and two great Italian meals later we are off to none other than my homeland, New Jersey. Next the crazy family tour, 2025.