A night out

Your Center City Correspondent took Mrs. CCC out on a date last night.  Frequent readers will know that we like to go to the theater and if we can go for a discount, that’s even better.  We went to see Our Class (not to be confused with the American classic Our Town) at the Wilma Theater on Broad Street.  We got half-price tickets thru Groupon.  We didn’t want to break the budget so we ate dinner at home then took the bus over to the show.  Stopped into Ted’s Montana Grill for a quick drink beforehand, but stayed long enough to know that we wouldn’t be going back anytime soon; the wait staff and cooks kept shouting at one another and if the service wasn’t rude it was non-existent.    Kinda like going to your in-laws for Sunday dinner.

Quickly finishing our drinks we crossed the street and settled into our seats, center stage, 10 rows back, took one last breath and did not exhale until intermission.  Took another deep breath as the second act started and didn’t breathe again until it was over. The show, based on a true story, is about a class of 10 kids in a village in Poland and how their lives changed as World War II swept over them.  It divided the village into Poles and Jews and the travesties that befell each group.  One theme that played throughout the show was how power changed the way people treated one another, whoever had it mistreated the group that was out of favor.  The show is intelligently written, well-acted, provocative and above all, intense.  Not the most pleasant night at the theater, but well worth the price.  I don’t know if I’d recommend it for everyone, but I’d invite those who enjoy theater for more than the songs to give it a try.  Afterwards, a quick cab ride home and we were drinking our nightcaps with our slippers on within 15 minutes of the final bows.  I got an extra hug from Mrs. CCC for our little excursion that made it all worthwhile.

A quick note on the Occupy Philadelphia group that is camped out near City Hall, right across the street from the front door of my office.  What a rag-tag bunch of people.  Dilworth Plaza is a decrepit place on a good day, but they have turned it into a recreation of Coxey’s Army.  When asked how long they’re staying, their reply is “Until it’s over.”  If it was up to me, it would be over now.  The city is going to be refurbishing the plaza starting next month and the campers are going to be moving across the street to the Thomas Paine Plaza that surrounds my office!! Oh, rapture!  As Mr. Paine wrote, “These are the times that try men’s souls . . .”

All for now.  Enjoy your fall weekend - carve a jack o’lantern, take a hay ride, tour a haunted house, drink a pumpkin beer, watch a football game.

Therapy

As part of my Columbus Day weekend therapy to try to erase the bad memory of the Phillies, your Center City Correspondent and Mrs. CCC went to the Art Museum to view the special exhibit Rembrandt and the face of Jesus.  Rembrandt, a Dutch painter in the 17^th century was a very religious man, painting numerous pictures of the life of Christ.  He humanized Jesus, eliminating the saintly look and halo, and painting him more like a prophet or ascetic.  He used local models among the Jewish population of Amsterdam, dressing them in plain robes, making Jesus appear to more human than God-like.  The exhibit also explained how Rembrandt did his etchings on copper plates, and was able to recreate his masterpieces over and over.  Very enlightening and entertaining.  Two of my favorites works were Christ at dinner in Emmaus and Jesus preaching to the children.

The exhibit comes to Philadelphia from the Louvre museum in Paris, and for me, could not come at a better time.  With all the recent turmoil in the Archdiocese of Philadelphia, my faith in the church and the hierarchy has been shaken to its 60-year core.  (I’d better tread lightly here; Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for the same thing.)  But my faith in Jesus has not been shaken, in fact I feel that it’s stronger because I’ve cut out the middlemen.  Seeing the devotion that Rembrandt put into his artwork helps make that bond stronger.  Like I said, therapy.

The exhibit runs through October 30^th.  It may not be for everyone, but if you want a look at a real Dutch Master this is a great way to see it.  Check out the link below for more info.

http://www.philamuseum.org/exhibitions/409.html?page=1

Mudville

If this seems like a disjointed post, that’s because that’s how my mind is right now.  Why does Philadelphia always get the short stick?  We deserve better than this.  We don’t deserve to get our hearts ripped out and stomped on every time, every year.  For those who say, don’t worry, the sun will come up tomorrow, it’s tomorrow already and it hasn’t shown up yet.  Does the sun dare to show its face here, knowing that the citizenry wants to wallow in its despair?

What promised to be a beautiful holiday weekend has been made gloomy and dreary and overcast by the events of Friday night.  I’m not going to recap the series here or assign blame; the only thing I’ll say is that the bad karma started when Cliff Lee could not hold a 4 run lead in the second game – they should have left town with a 2-0 lead and won it the next night on Francisco’s miracle HR.  But no, the Fates or God or destiny will not let that happen.  All of them are against us.  When we do win, it's in spite of them.

I’ll say this now (but more than likely retract it next year), – I’m not going to get mentally engaged with the Phillies again.  I tried it a few years ago and it worked for a while but I got sucked back in; after what transpired last night, whatever heart I have left will be made of stone.  I won’t be fooled again.   Maybe I’ll stop by the Edgar Allan Poe house today – it might lift my spirits.

Usually the title of these posts is the last thing I think of, but not today.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville - mighty Casey has struck out.

10 years on

I was at work, like a lot of us were.  The one advantage I had over most people was that I was able to see what was happening on the TV right above my head.  I was able to see it but I was not able to comprehend it, could not process that two planes had flown into the World Trade Center, and denied to myself that both towers had collapsed in a matter of hours.  I could not believe that the towers I had watch being built, had been in them on both business and pleasure, had seen where the tightrope walker had autographed his name on the wall the day he traversed the distance between them, had both come down in a huge tragic pile.  Just recently, I looked through a book I had bought at the time and the pictures of the huge fireballs, and the people hanging out the windows and then hurtling in the air, the piles of rubble, and the clouds of smoke and ash and debris, all still have the power to take my breath away.  As always, my thoughts turned to the people I knew there and the thousands of others who lost their lives that day.    

What have we learned in the ensuing 10 years?  A lesson that has been reinforced is that violence begets more violence.  We have lived in a near-constant state of war since then, and the grim statistics keep piling up.  Another lesson that’s been reinforced is that we leave the killing and warfare to our military; us civilians have very little to do with the war.  We ask our soldiers and sailors to put themselves in harm’s way, but we do very little to help them except pay them lip service and applaud them when their pictures are flashed on the message boards at ballparks.  If we were asked to sacrifice our plush lives to end the war, would we?  Would we accept rationing to bring the men and women home quicker?  I wish somebody would ask those questions; I’d like to know how I’d respond.

Hey buddy! Wanna buy a bridge?

For Labor Day weekend, your Center City Correspondent and Mrs. CCC agreed that it was time to get out of town.  We needed to see different zip codes, to slip the surly confines of Center City, to give our spirits a lift.  So we traded one big town for another, and went to New York for the day.  In the past we’d see a show for half-price, but this time we had our sights set on bigger things to do and see.  One thing that has always captured my imagination is the Brooklyn Bridge with its sturdy stone towers made almost spiritual by the beautiful Gothic arches along with the spider web of cables and suspenders.  To know that a man designed and men built the bridge lets me know that we are all capable of higher goals and accomplishments.  To me it transcends being a utilitarian conveyance and becomes almost a work of art.  A few years back we read a book, The Great Bridge by David McCullough which describes the concept and the building of the bridge, as if you were there.  I’d highly recommend it to anyone who wants to know the political, social and economic stories of two big American cities separated by more than a river, but ultimately brought together by a common undertaking.

So we got into lower Manhattan on a warm summer’s day, and after a quick walk around Ground Zero, we took the subway over to Brooklyn to start our stroll back across the bridge.  It’s all very clearly marked and up a short flight of steps and you have the whole bridge in front of you.  A lot of other people had the same idea too, and they weren’t all New Yorkers.  From what I heard there were people from all over the world who came to see the bridge, and if they are like me, they weren’t disappointed.  It’s less than 1.5 miles over the bridge and you are on a walkway suspended over the roadway so you hardly notice the cars, and it affords you a good view off both sides of the bridge.  Along the way you are treated to the sights of Manhattan, the river and harbor below, the Manhattan Bridge right next door and in the distance, the Statue of Liberty.  But the real treat is the bridge itself.  From a distance, the towers look small, but as you approach them you realize how big and massive they are and the delicate interlacing of the cables gives it a light open feeling.  You are truly standing on a work of art.  After a leisurely stroll back into Manhattan, we rode the subway up to midtown and did some shopping and sightseeing and caught the train back home, all in the same day. 

 
So if your spirit ever needs a little lift, spend a few hours on top of the Brooklyn Bridge.  And don’t let anybody try to sell you the bridge, because I already bought it.

Yo, Irene! Is that all you got?

So Hurricane Irene has come and gone and guess what?  Center City survived.  Was there ever a doubt?  When I hear the mayor and his henchmen along with every newscaster proclaim impending disaster it makes me wonder if they’ve ever lived through a hurricane around here before.  See, it’s a geography thing; once a hurricane gets this far north and this far inland it has dissipated most of its power and destructive force.  Sure, there are isolated pockets that get walloped, and the normal places that flood every time there’s a rain storm will flood during a hurricane, but I will never understand why our leaders and broadcasters spread fear, hysteria, and panic throughout the populace – what really scared me was when I heard that the mayor was going to close the bars and restaurants on Saturday night!  And shutting down the transit system had to be the stupidest thing to do during a storm – that just forces people to drive their own cars.  That doesn’t sound too safe to me. 

Mrs. CCC and I went to a hurricane party on Saturday night at our local, just as the storm was picking up.  We bonded with some of our neighbors.  The toast of the night was, “Irene, welcome to Philadelphia.  Now get out of town quick.”  I spoke to one young couple who had been there since the place opened and were planning on closing the place.  They told the bartender when their tab hit $100 to let them pay it.  They were working on their second tab when I talked to them.  We got home late and made sure we still had a roof and went to bed.

This afternoon I took a breezy stroll down to the river to see how it looked.  In a word, angry.  Usually there’s barely enough water to make it over the dam, but today it was zipping along faster than the traffic on the expressway.  It had overflowed its banks by 2 or 3 feet, but no damage to any of the buildings or boathouses.  So I thought we weathered this storm pretty well, but after an earthquake on Tuesday and a hurricane on Saturday, I can’t wait to see what Mother Nature has in store for us next week.

Best War Movies

A topic of conversation that comes up quite frequently at the local is the best war movies of all time.  It’s a guy thing, I guess.  It goes along with the scene from Cheers when they debated the sweatiest movie of all time (Cool Hand Luke).  So with the help of the guys at the bar, IMDB and AFI, here’s the unofficial list of the best war movies of all time, broken down by war:

War                        Titles

100 Years             Henry V (the Kenneth Branagh version)
Civil War               Glory ; Gone With the Wind
World War I       Lawrence of Arabia; Paths of Glory
World War II       Casablanca; Stalag 17; Bridge on the River Kwai
Korea                    Mash; The Bridges at Toko-Ri
Vietnam               The Deer Hunter; Apocalypse Now
Cold War              Fail Safe; Dr. Strangelove
Iraq                        The Hurt Locker

Most of these movies should be familiar to moviegoers.  They are award-winning movies that appear on many Top 100 lists by AFI and IMDB.  I guess it helps to have William Holden star in your movie – three of his films appear on this list, Stalag 17, Bridge on the River Kwai, and The Bridges at Toko-Ri.  There was about two dozen movies that did not make this cut, the most memorable being Schindler’s List and Saving Private Ryan. 

I don’t know if any of these movies glorify war, most of them depict war at its worst - death, mayhem, brutality.  If anything, these are anti-war movies, because after you view them you wonder why anyone could ever go to war.  What most of them do is depict the courage, honor and sacrifice that men display when they go off to war. 

One guy made an argument that Jaws should be on this list.  Huh?  When did we declare war against sharks?  He explained that the most dramatic scene in the movie is when Quint describes his experiences aboard the USS Indianapolis after it was sunk by a Japanese submarine.  Call this an honorable mention.

So if you’re ever at a loss of things to do, pop one of these films in your player and enjoy the show.

Philadelphia's Orsay

Your Center City Correspondent made a discovery today.  A few months ago Groupon was offering half-price membership to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  You know I love a bargain, so I could not resist their offer.  It took us a while to get there, but today we took the short walk over to Broad and Cherry Streets and found ourselves surrounded by some of the great American works of art from the past few centuries.  Most of the artists whose work is on display have studied or taught there, so you could consider it our local museum. 

Now the PAFA is tiny by comparison to the Art Museum on the Parkway, but it is a gem.  First, the building was designed by Frank Furness and constructed in 1876, and the interior construction is a work of art by itself.  Some of the artists include most of the Peales, Thomas Eakins, Theodore Robinson, Edward Hicks and many more.  Some of their works include portraits of George Washington, The Gross Clinic, Peaceable Kingdom and William Penn’s treaty with the Indians.  There are busts of famous Americans including Abraham Lincoln and John Paul Jones.  And we only saw half of it.  There is another building nearby that Mrs. CCC said we’d visit on another day.

So if you’re looking for a bit of local culture, head for the PAFA.  It’s a true treasure right here in Center City and you don’t have to spend all day there.  Check out their website here:

http://www.pafa.org/

A cautionary tale

Let me tell you a little story about a baseball team.  They moved into a brand new stadium and immediately they started selling out all their games.  Year after year the team played in front of capacity crowds.  And with these crowds came unparalleled success.  Never in their franchise history did they enjoy pennants and division crowns and playing in the World Series like they did during that run.  For 6 out of 7 seasons they participated in the playoffs, appearing in the Series twice in that stretch.  Pretty heady times for the teams and its fans.  But then, all of a sudden the winning dried up.  They missed the playoffs for 5 straight years, with 4 of those years playing under .500 ball.  A one year trip to the playoffs has been followed by a few more years of looking up at the contenders.   And guess what happened to their attendance?  As you might have guessed, their average attendance has plummeted - from over 42,000 fans per game at its peak down to the most recent season where they attracted only 20,000 per game.   As with everything else in life, the success of your favorite baseball team runs in cycles.  Up one year, down the next; up one decade, down the next.  It’s the rare team that can sustain excellence over a long period of time.

So to my fellow riders on the Phillies bandwagon:  enjoy these seasons while they are playing well, because they won’t last.  Go to as many games as you can, buy all the t-shirts and hats and jerseys you can during these successful days.  Just ask the fans of the Cleveland Indians, who saw their team plummet from 100 wins and playing in the Series to next-to-last in their division in a few years.  The one saving grace about a second division team is that I will be able to go to the games without paying stub-hub prices and sitting next to a gaggle of cackling girls in Utley jerseys who are too busy texting their friends to appreciate the beauty, intricacies and athleticism of the game.   They might even let us smoke cigars in the stands again.

Stranger in a strange land

Your Center City Correspondent had an entertaining Saturday night, compliments of Lincoln Financial Field and Miss Taylor Swift.  She played a concert there last night.  I had vaguely heard about her because she is a local girl from Reading, PA, but I could not tell you one song she ever recorded.  And when I talked to people about her, they assured me that the majority of the concert-goers would be young girls and their mothers.  And boy, were they right.  It was easily 80% females, which is probably a conservative estimate.  And when those 60,000 people screamed their approval of the songstress, the noise they made was frightening, ear-shattering, jet engine loud.   So you take this little wisp of a talented young lady, add musicians, dancers, and high-tech video screens, along with a world-class sound system and fireworks and thousands of adoring fans and you have a great night for the fans.   I had to come home and play a few Springsteen songs to get my old-man mojo going again.

 So after a summer of soccer games, Kenny Chesney, U2 and Taylor Swift, it’s back to football.  The pre-season starts this week, with real games just a few weeks away.  I gotta tell you, working an Eagles game is so much easier for an usher; at least those fans aren’t screaming at a high pitch, and they know where their seats are.

A note from the bandwagon: the Phillies haven’t lost a game this week and have expanded their division lead to a gaudy 9.5 games.  They are hitting on a much more timely basis and the pitching is living up to our lofty expectations.  They are a delight to watch.  Let’s hope this continues into late October.

Who needs da shore?

So let me tell you about a great Center City weekend.  As I described before, Mrs. CCC and I took in a Phillies games last Friday night, complete with fireworks.  After the Phillies beat up on the hapless Pirates, we were treated to a real fireworks show, coordinated to patriotic songs.  It lasted for 20 minutes, and would be the best show in the city if it was on the 4^th of July.  Coming at the end of July takes some of the luster off it. 

On Saturday night we met some friends in town and had dinner at Fogo de Chao, a Brazilian steak house housed in the old J. E. Caldwell’s jewelry store on Chestnut St.  Years ago your Center City Correspondent used to do a lot of shopping in there for Mrs. CCC because it was convenient to work and they wrapped the gift before you left!  The dinner was great featuring different cuts of meat delivered to your table and sliced right in front of you.  They also have a great salad bar featuring all sorts of unique edibles done in a native style.  We pigged out on their desserts, passing them around until we were filled.  And it was fun catching up with old colleagues over a great meal.  All in all, a very pleasant evening. 

Then with all day Sunday at our disposal, we took in the latest Harry Potter movie at a small theater in town with about 10 other viewers for only $6!  Best bargain of the weekend, then home in time to catch the end of the Phillies sweep against the Pirates.  A pretty terrific weekend for the CCC’s.  With nary a flash mob in sight.

Gotta Love Those Phillies!

Here’s what living in Center City affords you.  Mrs. CCC and I went to the ball game on Tuesday night.  We had the tickets well in advance, so it wasn’t hard to plan our night.  It was a great game and great weather, so we really enjoyed ourselves. 

We had been talking about seeing the new-look Pirates this weekend, but with no tickets and little prospect of getting any, we had resigned ourselves to watching the games on TV.  But at 2 PM on Friday, I made one last check on-line and some decent, affordable tickets were available.  I called Mrs. CCC and she cleared our appointment calendar and we were ready to go.  I could have closed up shop at that point because all I thought about was the game and the post-game fireworks.  So I got home changed and off we went.  The new-look Pirates looked a lot like the old Pirates and the Phils won 10-3 going away with Roy Halladay pitching 7 shutout innings.  Afterwards, the fireworks show was dazzling, the best in the city.  A quick train ride and we were back on Green St, in no time flat.  A great evening made better by the convenience of living in Center City. 

A New England wedding

Your Center City Correspondent and Mrs. CCC took a sojourn to Salem, Massachusetts this past weekend to attend the wedding of my buddy’s daughter, my goddaughter.  She is a gem of a young lady, smart, pretty and respectful all at once.  The real trifecta.  Originally from Philadelphia, they moved to MA a number of years ago.  She married a very nice guy, who unfortunately is a Boston fan, and he has turned her to the dark side of the Red Sox nation.  I’m sure their home will be filled with pictures of Smoky Joe Wood and Ted Williams, and (ugh) Manny Ramirez.    When she was a little girl, her father and I would sit around and talk about the kind of guy he would allow his daughter to date.  We both agreed that in order to get his foot in the door (or to first base) the suitor would have to be a baseball fan.  Now that would seem to be a very low hurdle for any young man, but if you know any true fan, there are two things that typify a fan, namely loyalty and commitment.  Loyal to your team and committed to following them every day through thick and thin.  And these are two great qualities for a new husband to possess, loyalty to his wife and committed to his marriage.  So the next time you see a single guy rooting for his hometown team, chances are he’d make a good husband too.  For those of you who dislike sentimentality, skip the next paragraph.

One of the stories we like to tell about the young lady is when she was just old enough to walk, her father and I would send her to the kitchen to fetch us some beers.  Her mother and Mrs. CCC would berate us for doing this, but when she returned with them, her little face was full of joy.  I saw that same look on her face on her wedding day.  But as much joy as she may feel herself, it’s the amount of joy she brings to others that is her true nature.  By the warmth of her hug, or the twinkle in her eye, or a hundred other things, she makes everyone she knows feel like they are special.  And what more could you ask for from another human being.  Thanks for letting the CCC’s be part of your special day and your lives.

So I wish the happy couple congratulations and best of luck on their new life together.  With loyalty, commitment and joy (and the Sox) on their side, I’d say that they’ll live together to a happy old age.  

Your CCC wraps himself in the flag

People ask your CCC where he likes to go for the 4^th of July holiday.  Now that has to be one of the silliest questions ever posed.  Why would I want to go anywhere?  People come from all over the world to come to Center City to celebrate America’s independence.  For me, it’s just a short bus ride or walk to be part of all the activities.  Besides, your CCC is a sucker for fireworks, and what better place to see them than right here in Center City Philadelphia.  Once content to see the display at the Art Museum, the CCC’s have started journeying around the city to view them.  They shoot them off over Penn’s Landing a couple of times during the 4^th of July festivities, the Phillies always put on a good show, but the best of them is right here in my neighborhood, over the Art Museum, on the 4^th of July after the concert on the Parkway.  It’s the longest show around, going on for 20 minutes with a beautiful backdrop of the museum.  If you ever come to see the show, leave your car at home and take a bus or the train.  There is a ton of traffic in the area; locals argue which is more fun - sitting on their steps and watching the traffic before or after the event.  I prefer afterwards, drinking a few cold ones, or eating an ice cream cone and watching the outlanders try to navigate the tiny, traffic-choked streets as they attempt to find the quickest way home.  Like I tell them, if you lived in Fairmount you’d be home already.  So get out and enjoy the fireworks in your neighborhood, it’s uplifting and patriotic all at once.

Road trip

Young CCC wanted to take his old man on a baseball excursion on Father’s Day. With the Phillies in Seattle we decided to take in a minor league game in Wilmington. As readers know Mrs. CCC and I have taken minor league road trips in the past and we enjoy the friendly confines of the smaller parks. So we all left town on Sunday morning and took the short trip down I-95 and pulled into Wilmington around 11:30. Our first stop was for brunch at the Iron Hill Brewery which is about a three block walk from the park. Young CCC picked up the tab! After a nice meal and samples of their brews, we strolled over to the park and found our seats – six rows from the field, right by 3^rd base for $10!! Can’t beat that for value. On a beautiful sun-kissed day, we saw the Blue Rocks get beat 3-2 by the Winston-Salem Dash (of salt?). And who knew that so many towns in North Carolina were named after brands of cigarettes? One of the highlights of the game occurred in the 1^st inning when a Blue Rocks player hit a 2-run homer. As he’s trotting around the bases, a mascot dressed as a stalk of celery comes out from under the stands and does a little dance. Even with my imagination, I could not make that up. And nobody seems to be able to tell me what a garden vegetable has to do with socking homers, because I asked quite a few people. After the game was over we rolled back into Center City and Mrs. CCC made us a nice steak dinner. All in all, a pretty nice day. I hope all you fathers enjoyed your day as much as I did. Thanks, Dude.

Half-price Philly

Spring has finally arrived here in Center City. It was a toss-up whether it would or not. Mrs. CCC and I have been enjoying all the great conveniences of living in town. We’ve been to a few Phillies games and a few shows at the local theaters. Being able to get to the ballpark via the subway or to the theaters either by bus or on foot makes it a lot more enjoyable when you don’t have to worry about parking.


We took in a Phillies game on a beautiful sun-kissed afternoon. Halladay pitched a complete game and the Phils beat the Mets 2-1 and we finished the day with a nice meal at our local with young CCC and some friends. As I’ve written before, Philadelphia has a number of small theater groups, one being 1812 Productions which performs comedies at the Plays and Players on Delancey Street. We get coupons from Funsavers which get us in at half-price which is just about the right price. We saw “Our Show of Shows” and “Laughter on the 23rd Floor”, both of them very funny and well-played. We also discovered that the Walnut Theater offers half-price tickets on the day of the show. We saw “The 39 Steps”, a theatrical comical adaptation of the Alfred Hitchcock movie. It was also a send-up of other Hitchcock movies. All in all, a nice night in the theater. What makes this show special to the CCC’s is that their apartment is on the third floor of the building, a whopping 39 steps from the ground floor. So we bought a poster and hung it in the stairwell.

So get out and enjoy all that Center City has to offer. And if you can do it at a bargain it makes it even more enjoyable.

Pack Mules... in Center City?

What’s more annoying? 27 inches of snow all at once, or spread over 5 or 6 storms? I’ll let you decide.


Over the past few years, I’ve noticed a phenomenon here in Center City. There’s a whole team of pack mules roaming the streets. The mules I remember seeing as a kid on the westerns had four legs, but the modern version has only two legs, works in an urban setting but totes as much as the four-legged kind. I see them trampling over the snow banks, trudging down the street, waiting for buses, doing all the things normal human beings do, but they can’t be human, they are carrying too much stuff around. They must be beasts of burden hired by rich folks to carry their stuff around. The mules can’t be carrying all their own stuff, can they? They have a huge purse, a computer case or briefcase, and a bag of other unidentified stuff, like books or clothes or who knows what. They tote it to work with them, then turn around and tote it all home at night. Do they really need all that stuff to go to work for eight hours? I’ve gone away for weeks at a time and not carried as much stuff as they do, just to step out their front doors. And another thing I’ve noticed – all these mules are females! I think they are, it’s hard to tell sometimes, they are hidden under their bags. So if you see one of these mules waddling down the street, steer clear of them. I hear they can bite and their kick can be harmful. And if they drop one of their bags on your toes, you’ll be hobbling around for days.