Blinky Bilenky

Yes, yes, its that time of year again. Better get working on some of that homemade egg nog, whiskey and all, because you'll want to be good and ready to sit out in that cold junkyard up in Olney come Sunday to watch a good clean race around some pretty dirty roughage. What could be better to mentally prepare you for all the mild manners of the holidays? Nothing, really. So grab your favorite long johns, some festive brunchtime beverages and head thee to the Bethlehem of Philadelphia, cycle speaking, to catch some action that Santa probably wouldn't attempt in that billowy old sleigh. Sure to be holly jolly sort of holiday.

David Simon, hero.

So, the sick irony of my off-handed comment regarding our favorite Big Box store yesterday has just settled in. But moments ago, I heard this absurd piece of news relating the tragic death by trampling suffered by one Walmart seasonal employee yesterday morning at a Walmart in Valley Stream, NY. The anxious crowd of shoppers apparently grew so out of control that the police had to be called in and even they could not assuage the near-rioting people. See, kids? Rampant capitalism is dangerous! Now it has claimed yet another life.

And in such cynical holiday spirit, I happened to watch the end of Season 3 of the Wire last nigth and man. Much as I feel like a chump for writing about television here, I make exceptions for things exceedingly relevant and exceedingly worthwhile. And frankly, if you haven't seen this genius show yet, I feel it my duty to persuade you: this show is one of the greatest things television has ever seen.



Since relocating to the West coast, I am constantly grasping at things to remind me what its like back east. I am terrified I will forget what a Philly accent sounds like. Watching the Wire not only takes me right back to the mid-atlantic, but its portrayal of Baltimore is so close to our bedraggled and beloved Philadelphia that it's pretty much a one stop shop when I'm feeling homesick. I'd go so far as to say that if you have never had the pleasure to visit one of America's decaying urban centers--Philly, Baltimore, Pittsburgh, St. Louis, Cincinatti--watching the Wire will get you at least half way there. Now don't get me wrong, they're each unique cities with very different landscapes, but our country's B-list cities share certain similarities. And the intricate complexities of Baltimore that play out in David Simon's show are many of the same things I associate with the FH home court. I'm no spoiler and it's not worth it for me to even begin to describe the infinite substance of the show. But recent history is on my side; the Wire isn't the only awesome thing lately to come out of Baltimore. And not to brag, but I got to see David Simon speak recently and it was hands down, one of the top ten things of my year.

Broken cities are more than just affordable. Frequently the cracks in the foundation, so to speak, create the very spaces for innovation. See: Braddock, PA

FH thrives in a creative community, a city of passion with relatively low cost of living because Philadelphia is a dysfunctional city. And we love that about it. A good friend of mine said recently that his own upbringing in a de-industrialized city may explain why he now calls the broken city of New Orleans his home. For the same reason, I find that I flock to other people, artists, writers and filmmakers who draw on the same multi-dimensional interest in understanding imperfect places. And it's no coincidence that David Simon's upcoming series, Treme is set in New Orleans.

It's often helpful to learn context, I find. And I'm offering up David Simon's cop drama as a facet of context for this little company. You may not understand what I mean until later, but that's okay. So long as the ball gets on rolling.

Commerce Bank Race Fun Time Equals

Sun soaked and happily buzzed, I've just arrived home after a long day at the races...the cycle races, that is. One lovely day in early June, the annual pro cycling tour comes through Philadelphia and races a course through Fairmount Park and around the art museum. It temporarily diverts traffic in town, in a good way, and for several days now you could catch older guys with numbers pinned to their backs taking spinny loops around here and there, warming up for the big day, today.

And each year it proves just as exciting as the last. Originally the Core States (now called this only by old-timers), the race has undergone several sponsorship related name changes, first the Wachovia and now the Commerce Bank Race. Not much of a ring to it, but it's kept the game in play, so to speak. The best vantage points are usually located near steep or circular hills. Lemon Hill and the Manayunk Wall, to be exact. Tons of people, all kinds of people, come out to watch the peloton climb and go so so fast around and around our most beloved urban parkside. It is a reliably good time year after year, even in this 97 degree heat.



I've realized by now that I'm sort of a sports fan in my blood and so I get overly emotional about races and big games and sports themed Hollywood Movies, but even if you aren't a big sap like me, it is really pretty epic to watch a cycling race. Especially a cycling race. As soon as you catch the breakaway peek around the curve, you feel transported to someplace across the ocean where bicycle racing represents a heroism and an historic event where towns of people come out and cheer, together. And you feel yourself cheering as part of that old world spirit, as a champion of comraderie and as a participant in one of the greatest athletic traditions of all time.



I'll be honest. I don't even know who won. Whoever it was won $55,000 and probably feels crazy exhausted right about now. For me, knowing the winner is a far second to my having a memorable afternoon, for which I toted a hibachi up to Lemon Hill on the basket of my cruiser and got called a genius.