Today was my chance to explore the City of Brotherly Love. I had seen the sightseeing signs
pointing to such things as the Liberty Bell, Carpenter's Hall, Independence Hall, and other such
icons of American history. So, with camera in hand, I set off on my walkabout. The first order of
business was to snag a good cup of coffee, and I wasn't disappointed. I had spied a coffee
shop/bakery, which I recognized by the pictures rather than the Chinese characters on the
overhang. I decadently ordered a raspberry Danish-like delight and a large cup of coffee, which
were both delicious. Now I was ready to get down to business.
Downtown Philly is just about as packed out with stores, traffic and people as New York, as I
stumbled past several outdoor produce markets in Chinatown on my way to the historical area. I
ended up finding Warmdaddy's on Market Street, and took the stroll out on the landing to get a
good glimpse of the Ben Franklin Bridge. By this time, I was hungry and retraced my steps to a
all-day breakfast spot called the Griffin Cafe. It turned out to be really similar to the Cyclops in
Seattle--artsy, tattooed, 20- and 30-somethings, hung out there surrounded by avant-gard art on
the walls, and served by a quirky menu. You ordered your food from the counter and it would be
delivered to your table on paper plates with plastic ware. I chose the omelette, which was a bit
rubbery, but tasted good.
I followed the signs toward the Liberty Bell, which took me around all the buildings that housed
the movers and shakers and founding fathers of America during its infancy. Tourist traffic was
heavy on this Saturday, and it was a beautiful day, clear and balmy. There was definitely an added
level of security, too, with many areas just plain blocked off as sensitive terrorist targets. The
Liberty Bell was inaccessible without standing in a block-long line. I managed a tiny glimpse of
something brassy glinting behind bullet-proof glass and behind the heads of onlookers, which I
assumed to be the Bell. It is locked up behind a metal detector now, within a smoked-glass
structure. The guards were letting on single-file attendance, and I didn't have the patience to stand
in line. It was enough for me to just be in the vicinity.
When I finally found the Bell, I realized I had walked right past it an hour earlier. I think I was distracted by watching the construction of the new "Independence Historical Center" across the street from the bell due to open next year.
There were several horse & carriage drivers looking for fares, costumed in the classic early
American garb. These entrepreneurial denizens shared territory with flocks of tour buses,
guaranteeing fulfillment to the most fastidious tourist-historians. I stopped to listen to the rap of
one of the tour guides as we stood outside Independence Hall. He was talking about the huge
rift and controversy over the tax issue that absorbed much of the attention of our early
government. Man, if the forefathers of America could see us now. They gotta be turnin' in the
graves...
After four hours of walking the concrete, my feet were sore and my knees were creaking a bit, so I headed back to the suite for a nap, stopping at a CVS/Pharmacy for bottled water and postcards for Dede. Suddenly, there was a boomingly loud pounding noise outside the store that was literally drowning out conversation inside the store. Was it some kind of giant pneumatic construction hammer? No, I was incredulous to find out it was an Indonesian drum corps who was doing some kind of demonstration across the street for passers by. Man, those were drums! Big drums.
When we got to the club it was already packed out, and it was obvious we weren't going to be
getting a table. So we holed up in the musty, filthy green room to eat. We had to order from the
bar, and then a weird mish mash of wait staff attempted to sort out their various duties. Two
ended up getting silverware, one was getting drinks, and another was trying to figure out who
had ordered what. When we were done eating, the manager and helper came in and took away
most of the chairs and the table in the green room. "We're getting slammed," he said
unapologetically. I went out to investigate, and sure enough, outside there was a line around the
block, and it stayed that way until almost midnight. This was a jumpin' little section of Philly, for
sure.
The audience was way more receptive tonight, with several birthday celebrations in the house,
and a few vocal rowdies, which is always fun. We got carried away and didn't finish our first set
until 10:25. I figured they'd have mercy on us, and give us at least 15 minutes, so I headed down
to the john to take a piss and get some fresh air. Before I had a chance to flush and wash, I heard
the introduction for the band from the sound tech/MC. Geez. We're on! So we burned on till
11:30, quitting promptly to break.
After the gig, Terry spoke at length with the Old Man, who owned Warmdaddy's with his sons. He had gotten good feedback from the audience and was talking about Terry coming back. We'll see if they can come up with the money...