Late night conversations

Your Center City Correspondent wants you to know that one of the biggest differences between living in town and living in the suburbs is the number and volume of late night conversations that you overhear. In the classic marital dilemma, your CCC is a windows-open guy, that is, he likes to sleep with the window open. Fresh air and soft breezes coming through the window are so much better than stale air conditioning. And with the window open, you overhear so many late night conversations coming from the sidewalk below. In the hinterlands, you might hear a kid once in a while, and you just tell him to keep it down. But here in town there are just so many and of such a variety that it is worth it to eavesdrop on them.


There are at least two main types: bar groups and lovers’ quarrels. With a bar at the corner and another one two blocks away, we hear a lot of the first type. People on their way to the bar or on their way home, and obviously, on the way home is much more lively and louder. And everybody agrees that it’s the girls who make most of the noise. You can hear them approach like a flock of pigeons with their chattering and laughing, then get very loud as they pass by, and then fade into the distance. It gets really bad around the end of school, or the start of school, or any holiday, or if there’s a big game, like this evening’s Flyers game. Of course, if the home team loses, the crowd is much more subdued, not that I’m wishing ill on the Flyers. The timing of these conversations is anywhere from 1:30 to 2:30, that's AM.

Some of my favorite conversations I’ve overheard over the years:

Girl #1: Why is the sidewalk all wet?
Girl #2: Because it’s raining, silly.
Uncontrollable giggling.

Numerous voices: Chattering and laughing
Girl #1: Geez,  I wish I was down the shore.
Boy #1: Well just close your eyes and pretend you’re there.
Numerous voices: More chattering, etc. getting closer
Girl #1: Eek! Muffled sounds.
Boy #1: What happened?
Girl #1: I closed my eyes and tripped on the sidewalk!

Boy#1: Hey Bill!
Bill: What!
Boy #1: I’m going to the Green Room. Want to come?
Bill: Dude, you just got tossed out of there. They don’t want to see you anytime soon.
Boy #1: Oh.

Or my favorite:
Boy #1: Charlie. Charlie. Hey, Charlie!!
Me (from the window): What do you want?
Boy #1: We were just passing by and thought we’d say hello.
Boy #2: It wasn’t we. It was you.
Boy #1: Ok. Charlie, what are you doing?
Me: I’m trying to sleep.
Boy #1: You want to go to St. Stephen’s?
Me (after pondering the question for about a second): No thanks. Maybe tomorrow.
Boy #2: I told you he wouldn’t.
Boy #1: OK. See you later.
Voice from bed: Would you please close that window!

The lovers’ quarrels usually come later, after 3AM and they can range from short, sharp spats to long-winded discussions about the other person’s heritage, parentage or sexual practices. I try not to listen to them too closely, they can be kinda scary. Once in a great while, the cops show up and try to restore peace. Then the two lovers turn on the police and settle their differences quickly by taking them out on the cop.

Some people think these late night conversations are nuisances. I find the humor in them, and one of the things that endears me to the city. If I ever moved back out to the hinterlands, I’d have to hire a few people to stand outside my window and make some noise, just so I’d feel more at home.

Go Flyers and Go Phillies!!

An eventful Thursday

Bonk vt (from the bicyclist’s dictionary) To suffer a period of severe lassitude due to not eating or drinking sufficiently while riding.


If you’ve never experienced this, to bonk while riding, you don’t know how suddenly and without any warning your body shuts down and you cannot pedal your bike any more. It only happened to me once, riding up Philmont Avenue about 20 years ago. I could not go any further and I wound up sleeping next to my bike on somebody’s front lawn. When I woke up, I had something to eat and drink, and I was able to continue my ride. I vowed never to let that happen again.

Until yesterday, that is. Yesterday was the day I had surgery on my right knee to fix the problem I caused a few weeks ago in an act of stupidity at the ballpark. Before surgery, you’re instructed not to eat or drink anything from midnight on. I had to be at Hahnemann at 7:30 AM. I arrived on time and I was brought back into the surgical unit promptly. By 9 AM I was in the OR and I did not feel or see anything until I woke up in recovery at 11:30 AM. The operation went well, and now I have 3-4 days of recovery and 3-4 weeks of rehab before I’ll be able to go back to work. The folks at Hahnemann could not have been better, dealing with me and all the patients with professionalism and compassion, what they call good bedside manners.

On the way home I wanted to stop at the bar to let the folks know that I hadn’t forgotten them and for some lunch. Mrs. CCC dropped me off and parked the car. I went in and the place was crowded so instead of sitting at a table, I sat at the end of the bar and ordered drinks for myself (soft) and Mrs. CCC (hard). She came in and we ordered lunch. But before lunch arrived, I felt the evil clutches of bonking; I felt very light-headed, and all I could do was put my head between my knees so I wouldn’t pass out. When I lifted my head, it only got as far as the edge of the bar, where I sat until Mrs. CCC brought the car around and she and Drew, the bartender, got me back in the car for the short ride home. She and I sat in the courtyard and ate our lunch, which gave me the strength to make it up the steps. I probably won’t be going back down the stairs until I feel much better than I do now, so give me a call or drop me a line so I know you’re all OK. Trust me, I’m in good hands. Mrs. CCC could teach Florence Nightingale a few things. God Bless her.

Enjoy your holiday weekend. And Go Flyers and Phillies!

Memorial Day in town

Memorial Day is next Monday, May 31st. Most of us know it as the unofficial start to summer, when picnics and vacations and trips to the shore are all planned. But your Center City Correspondent would like you to take a moment and reflect on what Memorial Day really means. There have been hundreds of thousands of men and women who have paid the ultimate sacrifice to preserve, protect, and defend our freedoms. Without their sacrifices, I don’t know if we’d be living in the comfort and relative security that we do in this country.


There are a number of memorials in Center City which makes it easy to remember our heroes. The two biggest are the Vietnam Memorial and the Korean War Memorial which are located at Front and Spruce Streets. Services are held at these two memorials every year on Memorial Day. Other monuments include the Colored Soldiers and Sailors Monument and the WWI Aviators Memorial, both located across the street from the Franklin Institute. And right down the street are the Civil War monuments which straddle the Parkway. At 2nd and Spring Garden is a monument to the soldiers of WWI, the doughboys of the nearby neighborhood. Philadelphia has done a nice job in erecting and maintaining the monuments. I’m sure your hometown has a monument too; take a moment to find out where it is. Those memorialized will be glad you did. Say a prayer for those you know who died in service of their country; and say one for all the others who did too.

Have a pleasant holiday and a great summer.

RIP Neil Weintraub and Bob Weidle.

May is the prettiest month

OK, so now your Center City Correspondent is officially annoyed. I try not to kvetch in these pages, but every once in a while I feel like I’ve been handed lemons and all I can make is piles of lemons. On a beautiful sun-kissed day, the Phils played the Cubs in an afternoon game, and I had to sit and watch it at home. They left it late, scoring the winning run in the eighth, and then holding on for the win, just my kind of game. When I started working at the Phillies, this was just the type of game and weather I envisioned. Being cooped up here on the third floor is not a lot of fun, but I have to be patient until the surgery next week. That drumming noise you hear are my fingers on the desk.


So not much to report from Center City, except that my son is leaving Florida and returning to Philadelphia. This news is making Mrs. CCC ecstatic. I guess he wants to get his life back on track and this is the best place to do it, around his family and friends who can lend him support and guidance. He should be back around the 1st of June, so if anybody knows of any job openings for a young, industrious guy, let me know. Where he gets a job will determine where he lives. If he’s learned nothing else from his old man, at least he’s learned that.

Be careful out there. Maybe that should be my new motto. Go Phillies!!

Life lessons

As some of you may know, your Center City Correspondent has been laid low by his own stupidity. I was at the ballpark before a game the other evening, clearing my section before the fans arrived, and I hopped over the seats in row 3 and landed in the ER at Hahnemann. So now I’m on the DL, hobbling around on crutches, and waiting to see an orthopedist to find out what needs to be done to get me back on my feet and back on the job. In the past, an injury like this required arthroscopic surgery, but that was 20 years ago. I just hope there’s something still in there that can be fixed and I don’t need a whole new knee! And the Phillies are playing so well on this home stand, and I’m missing them. So when I go back to work, no gymnastics for me. I’m going to act my age. And a huge tip of the cap to Mrs. CCC – she has been so helpful through all this, ferrying me around, fetching and carrying for me. I’m certainly a lucky guy to have someone as sweet as her by my side, not only through these trying times, but every day of the year.


So now I get to sit around the house and catch up on my reading. It’s not often that your CCC cries, you know, it’s not a manly thing to do. But a book I’m reading caused tears to well up and roll down my cheeks this morning. It’s entitled “Think No Evil” by Jonas Beiler. It tells the story of the ten Amish schoolgirls who were shot by a neighbor back in October, 2006, five of whom died. For some reason, this shooting affected me more than all the other violence that has occurred in recent times. How could anyone single out the Amish to exact any violence or vengeance on? They lead such simple, Christian lives, who would target them? Mr. Beiler does not answer these unanswerable questions, but rather, he focuses on the part of the story that is equally inexplicable. That is, the forgiveness shown by the Amish community and the families of the dead girls towards the shooter. In our modern society, vengeance and hatred and retribution are the normal responses to such a shooting. But the Amish profess to be forgiving people, and they demonstrated it for the whole world by forgiving the shooter and his family, even attending his funeral and offering their condolences and forgiveness to his widow and children. How many of us could do that under similar circumstances? Forgiveness, not retribution, is bred in them from an early age, and to not forgive would mean that they are not Amish. I admire them for their simplicity, their Christianity and now for their compassion towards others and their capacity for forgiveness. We could all take a lesson from them, anytime hatred or anger invade our lives. Remember the little girls from Nickel Mines and the shining example that their families and relatives have shown us.

That’s all for now. Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there. Where would any of us be without you? God bless you all and Go Phils!!