Pennsylvania: +1 Philly

I am the result of a mixed marriage. My mom hails from upstate New York, and my dad from central Pennsylvania. I would like to state that I love both of my parents equally but there is so much more going on in the rest of PA compared to the rest of NY. Sure, both places have beautiful nature settings and great lake access and some crazy people that think Obama isn't a US citizen. But PA has all those things AND it doesn't get unnecessarily cold in the winter time.

To list all of the positive things about the state would take way more than I have space for here. And sure you may be saying, yeah he has family in NY but he grew up in PA, of course that's where his prejudice would lay. To that I say how.dare.you. Sure, I may only see NY for 1 of the 52 weeks a year, but I think I have a handle on what its all about. When I think of New York I think of this ridiculous city in the lower right corner, and then a bunch of Native Americans surrounding it just kinda being pissed at how screwed they've been.

Proximity: +1 Philly, +.5 NYC

One of the best parts about being on the Eastern Shoreboard is the proximity to an array of cities that this offers you. Megalopolis indeed. Philadelphia, being the more central of the two cities in question here, is obviously superior, since it is closer to a larger number of cities, namely DC, Baltimore and, yes, New York City. Its nice be able to get away from your own city every once in a while, and the NYC - PHL trip has proven to be suprisingly fast and easy. With that in mind, the Philadelphians of this blog are sucking it up and seeing the New Yorkers this weekend. The persons traveling should be noted because - with the exception of Lauren, who kind of had to visit Jon when he lived here every once in a while - though I have been to NYC a minimum of five times this year the number of New Yorkers that have visited me is exactly: zero.
(Looking at you, David Gwilliam.)

Proving once again that Philadelphians are simply better people than New Yorkers.

Can't wait to see you kids.

Philly Boy Roy: +1 Philly

There can never be enough SEPTA jokes

Schuylkill Path: +1 Philly

When A left the other day to betray both New York and Philly for a dalliance with Lancaster, I decided to take the long way home and bike down the Schuylkill Path. Going from the city out to the burbs all the way to Reading, the Path may be one of my favorite places in the city, in large part because its just so god damn fun to ride, not to mention that it surrounds you with green on one side and water on the other (large amass of cars and other bikers/runners/walkers notwithstanding). There was the mysterious and vaguely-torturesque sounding "24-hour Cross Country Race" going on that day, which hurt even my former XCer sensibilities, but once I got past that chaos (all centralized 'round about Boathouse Row, which should get its own little adorable note later) it was serenely quiet. I found a little bench under some trees up somewhere closer to Manayunk (ish) that overlooked the water and, if you were turned the right way so you couldn't see all the people going by behind you, felt like a completely separate universe, with no people or distractions for miles. My book and I hung out there for a while, and as a country girl who sometimes needs to get back to her roots, it was verging on bliss*.



















* (Detractions included: inability to swim/properly sunbathe.)

Semi-Impromptu McCartney Rooftop Performance: +1 NYC

Don't look worried Paul, it's only New York!

After all, this city was home to your most beloved first wife.

Granted, this city was proclaimed "the new center of the world after Rome" by your songwriting partner, a city where it's possible that "Life Begins at 40," yet where it may also come to a sudden end.

For all these reasons, it makes it all the more bad ass and all the more rock n' roll that you decided it would be cool to give a seven song set in midtown Manhattan.

Maybe the entire crowd was generated by text messages and blog posts, and maybe that's why no one knew the words.

But in reality, it didn't matter what songs were played. There has never been a better reason to leave work early. I couldn't help but think I felt a tinge of what those puzzled Liverpudlians experienced over 40 years ago on Savile row.

In fact I've dreamed of such a scenario in the past, so it isn't any wonder that afterwards when I had a few beers and slept on the whole experience I had to ask myself If I hadn't just dreamt the whole thing over again.

And yet on that midsummer's evening, I couldn't help but think that all the words sung and all the winks exchanged were just for me...

(well and maybe lauren & dan too...)



===\/\/===

Monsters of Podcasting: +1 Philly

So the only noticeable donation I've ever given was to maximumfun.org and Jesse Thorn for all the work he does. I love the podcasts Jordan, Jesse Go! and The Sound of Young America. They have introduced me to a bunch of movies, music and comedians before my friends. This allows me to gloat when they find out about a thing and I try to tell them how I knew about it literally days earlier.

Now, the shows are usually done out of LA but Jesse is taking it to the East Coast for a few dates in Philly and New York. Both places are getting a live version of The Sound of Young America, Jesse's interview/young hip version of Fresh Air. But only Philly is getting a live taping of the Monster's of Podcasting. Totally going to go to this before checking out The Hooters later in the noight.

L & B Spumoni Gardens: +1 NYC

l & b
Originally uploaded by themalkmoose

Maybe few things can ever live up to our expectations, as in what we exactly envision a person, place or thing to be. Such is the case with Spumoni Gardens in Bay Ridge. Maybe I expected it to be a green, verdant paradise with elves that serve pizza out of a thatched wooden hut and coca cola that flows from a garden hose.

Maybe instead, Spumoni Gardens is just an outdoor concrete patio with red picnic furniture, fenced in with an iron gate and half covered by a plastic tent.

Maybe instead, the pizza is served by people that just want to go home (after all this place is open until midnight). But that pizza happens to be amazing, a square with melted cheese underneath amazing sauce topped with a whole ton of melted parmesan.

Plus they have homemade spumoni (italian ice cream with fruits/nuts) and alcohol if you are willing to eat in the fancier restaurant half of the gardens.

A nice can of soda rounds out the experience, and is easily recycled in the giant blue plastic tubs provided for your convenience.

Rumor has it that my dad's cousin once owned L & B. Wait ... maybe Spumoni Gardens is starting to blow away my expectations.

Drew Barrymore Likes Brooklyn: -1/+1 New York

I'm neutral because I hate celebrities, but I enjoy their relentless display of human frailty.

Saturday night, while bowling at a new wind-powered (ya.) bowling alley in Brooklyn, my friend leans over and whispers, "Look who's bowling next to us."

That cute little girl with the lisp from E.T. and the Mac dude.

A natural gawker, I keenly observed:

- Justin slapping Drew's ass as she went up to bowl.

- Drew jumping up and straddling him while they proceeded to make out like high schoolers.

- The DJ, fucking with her, played a couple Strokes songs in a row (she used to date Fabrizio, DUH!). Cue squealing, dancing, and some more making out.

- Outside in the smoking alley, the Mac dude was discussing being famous with his friend. Yup.

- Drew, most likely looking to make out some more, was escorted into the alley (you weren't allowed to walk out there in the rented bowling shoes, so she shuffled out wearing what appeared to be blue plastic bags tied up with string) looking meek and desperate for some more attention.

- A friend of mine told Drew that she watched Never Been Kissed the other day, stoned, to which Drew replied (and by replied, I mean yelled) "I want to be stoned right now!".

- Following this declaration (I'm sure easily fulfilled, should she snap her fingers to her entourage), she launched into a rant about her troubled teenage years, transferring high schools and being generally embarrassed about her career.

Sounds like anyone at a bar... drunk... ever.

They can suck it, anyway. I will shamelessly say that I stood in front of Steve Buscemi (dressed to kill in the exact same shirt that Rocko wore) on the F train once, and that's all the celebrity interaction I'll ever need.

Even MORE Friends: +Another 1 Philly

Yet ANOTHER Skid Kid is moving to Philly! By the end of the summer, 4 of my top gals from the London crew will be here.
Suck it, New York - Philly is the New New York.


















(From my 2006 visit to Greensboro, NC from whence this gal is coming.)

BEER ISLAND: New York +1

Um need I say more?

Ok fine. Basically it's a parking lot in Coney Island where they came in with dump trucks of sand and some picnic tables.

It's kind of where I want to go when I die. Annnnd when fellow bloggers Andy and Marisa come visit.

The Station Cafe: NYC +1

Queens, NYC has always been uncharted territory for me. A fine introduction to this borough is the Station Cafe, noisily located underneath the 7 elevated subway line in Woodside.

So right off the bat it looks like you're in a scene from the French Connection. Anyways, the bar clearly hasn't changed in the ?? years that it's been there. Faded 90's era NYC posters adorn the walls, and a billiards table and photo hunt machine lurk in the shadows. Although they may only have Bud, Guinness and various liquor to drink, the bartender Tony is easily the most hospitable bartender in the city, nay possibly the country. Free shots are usually the special around 10pm. Ordering 2 beers will often getting you a third on the house without asking.

Old men often line the bar, some falling asleep. Story has it that a man once almost fell off his stool, and Tony patiently told him in his thick Irish accent "You can fall asleep at my bar, but for godsakes don't fall off of it."

Indeed it is said that the Station Cafe is 100% without a doubt a morning bar. It's sparsely populated at night, but packed to the gills around 7am. And although it may be a cafe, there certainly isn't any food to be had. But not to worry, as underneath the 7 train lies countless good cheap restaurants and food trucks - something that Queens can always be counted on for.

Pools: +1 Philly

Due to the killer economy we live in these days, Philly had to close a bunch of pools. Fortunately, not all of them, and fortunately not the Marian Anderson Rec Center at 17th and Catharine.
First of all, Marisa loves pools. Marisa will go anywhere where there is water and get in (provided its not the Schuykill). So Marisa is pretty willing to forgive any pool a grievance if she can get in, provided it doesn't feel like a bathtub. This pool, though, is pretty fantastic. Its not perfect, but..

Pros:
- Its clean.
- Its quiet (so far).
- Its filled with kids who either: a) do the Thriller dance in the water and then get mad at you for noticing or b) are 11 years old with tattoos on their hands but need a guardian to watch them when they swim.

- Its divided in half so the kids stay on one side and the adults on the other.
- Its pretty cold (+10 for me).
- It has a break for "family time" which is just adorable.

Cons:
- You can't sit on the side or bring your stuff past the fence
- Its not in my backyard. I have to walk a whole SIX BLOCKS from A's. Atrocious.

Epic Subway Handoff: +1 New York

I ordered a tension shower caddy for the new bathroom and it was delivered to work.

Due to the fact that I needed to go out and buy dishes after work, the damn box was too heavy and bulky to function with. So of course, Jon "I always think of others before myself" Carrelli came to meet me at the turnstiles at my work to take the box back to Brooklyn.

And I must say, with no cell phone reception except one phone call as the train was above ground, and only the directions "meet me at the front-end-of-the-train exit at Rockefeller Center", I stood there worried that this transaction would fail miserably.

A train came and went, along with a flood of people up the stairs. And lo and behold, a few seconds later here comes Jon, with that bounce in his step, heading right for the turnstile I was standing in front of.

After a brief exchange of said bulky box and half an avocado/goat cheese sandwich, I have come to the conclusion that Jon will make a damn fine New Yorker.