Running with Sly & the Holy Cannoli in Philadelphia

Because sometimes we just have to let life happen…

Here’s how a rainy Saturday afternoon, and the ever so prevalent desire to procrastinate on doing anything at all, introduced us to the City of Philadelphia.

With no particular agenda in mind, except maybe checking out an antique shop or two, we set out to “let life happen.”

Nostalgia sometimes shows up in unexpected ways. In moments of unawareness and bliss, on days where a meal and a nap are the only things penciled in on our calendars, when we’d prefer to quietly snuggle rather than chat and engage, nostalgia is there to embrace us.

There are some places in the world that, when pinpointed on a map, do not seem far away. Places separated only by roads, bridges, and rivers, yet close in proximity. Places nearby and familiar, yet unknown and new to us.

Philadelphia is such a place to me.

It’s only a brief car ride away, yet it’s been completely unexplored until today when, for whatever reason, I am drawn to it. And so I invite you to join me.

After a brief visit to the antique shop, we aimlessly roam the streets and happen upon what, at first glance, appears to be a small bookstore. The storefront next door watched my eye. A graffitied pull-down gate and large letters spelling out the come-hither word: BOOKS.

To the left of the closed store is another opening. Unsure if the stores are one and the same, I enter the opening under the sign called Mostly Books. A shop that claims to have over 100,000 used books and 20th Century artifacts.

We start out by looking at shelves full of music CDs and movie DVDs. A children’s books section catches our attention, when suddenly, a quick glance to our left yields a reader’s dream. The initial impression of the store’s size is deceiving. Through a doorway in the main room is what appears to be an endless sea of books. Left, right, above, and below…wherever you look, there are books!

The shop is neatly organized in that chaotic way that readers love to be distracted.  There are bold covers, bright colors, faded binders, and crinkled pages. The smell of paper is undeniable.

I walk slow and allow my shoes to make a dragging sound on the worn and cracking hardwood floor. The height of the ceiling in this area of the building is cathedral-like.

As we walk farther and deeper into the store, the maze of books and cozy corners seems never-ending.

After a while, as difficult as it is to pull away, we extract ourselves from the store and decide to continue our wandering before sundown.

I find the city to be an intricate mix of the urban and historic.

To my pleasant surprise, the creativity in this city seems to ooze from its very foundation.The cobblestone paths, the architecture, the lights that bathe the city at night, it is all here laid out and for the taking. A myriad of galleries and studios line the streets and art is displayed in the form of billboards, restaurant decor, and splashed across building facades in murals so detailed you could hardly believe they were painted on walls the size of mountains. Even the city’s bridges are meant to wow you with their elaborate brick work and bedazzling nailhead trims.

A few blocks further into the city, we find ourselves at the Independence Mall ensconced in pure American history.

Fascinated by the imposing structure that is Independence Hall and the idea that the feet of our Nation’s Greats laid tracks on the very ground on which we stand – I am speechless.

Slightly unimpressed with the stature of the Liberty Bell, but honored to have seen it none-the-less, we scuttle on to an equally iconic, yet slightly cheesy facet of Philadelphia’s history.

We find ourselves at the bottom of the steps that lead to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, best known as the “Rocky Steps,” for their debut in the Academy Award winning film Rocky, starring Sylvester Stallone.

I opt out of doing the dramatic run up the 72 steps and instead, choose to do the slow and steady climb on this particularly rainy and slippery day.

Once at the top, I decide it wouldn’t hurt to take my own rainy day version of the “hope nobody is looking” obligatory snapshot of the famous celebratory fist pump.

I turn around and the view of the Ben Franklin Parkway is breathtaking.

Back on the street, we say a quick hello to the bronze statue of the character Rocky Balboa, whose hike up the steps created a moment in film history that transcended all cultures.

The night ends as it should…with a cheese steak and a Stewart’s Orange ‘N Cream soda in hand. Arriving at the cheese steak oasis that lies at the intersection of Passyunk Avenue and South 9th Street, the decision between dueling restaurants – Geno’s Steaks and Pat’s King of Steaks – was difficult, but in the end, Geno’s neon lights and the massive Godzilla-like cheese steak that sat on its roof, wins me over.

Even though the lights in the letter “G” are out, one look at the long line and the Cheez Whiz covered faces of the happy patrons and it is evident that, with a place this busy, who has time to fix lights anyway! Besides, it adds to its character.

Always the sweet tooth, we pop into Café Crema, the dessert shop next door and who should we bump into in a store that boasts a famous extra large “King Cannoli” and the only cannoli in Philadelphia with a shell imported directly from Sicily? Who else, but the Pope!

Well, not quite. Just a life-size cardboard cutout of the Supreme Pontiff as a welcoming gesture for his own upcoming visit to the City of Philadelphia.

Strolling happily with a chocolate chip-filled cannoli in hand, we come upon a friendly basketball game at a nearby court. It’s mom and dad against grandpa and two children. The children giggle and run circles around their parents, careful not to hurt grandpa as they pass the ball. Then grandpa catches the ball and springs up in the air aiming for the basket. Grandpa misses but no one seems to care as they huddle together in laughter.

Funny…this morning we couldn’t imagine that we’d be here, on this court, watching this beautiful family, in a city so unabashedly creative and intriguing that I can’t help but want to return.

Nostalgia is like that sometimes. It likes to surprise us. It takes pleasure in

 revealing things to us that wenever knew existed. It takes us places we probably hesitated on visiting for one reason or another and then shows off in the dramatic, colorful, and insightful way that only nostalgia can. Whether we are first introduced to a place in a film, read about it in a book, dream about it in our sleep, or imagine it in our minds – how it could be, what the people are like, and what you would see, the warm feeling you get when the material and the elusive collide – that is nostalgia.

“Let life happen to you. Believe me: Life is in the right, always.” – Rainier Maria Rilke

Today I am reminded of why I love to travel, both near and far. Walking places I’ve never walked, seeing things I’ve never seen, experiencing moments I’ve never had, that is life. Each passing minute should be fresh and new, just because each day is ordained as such. And, on a rainy day, when all we set out to do was let life happen – I think we did just that.