Monday, November 23, 2015
I Heart Philly
score!) and another for the doctor (vegan pizza!) and yet another for the girl (art). Being lazy in Starbucks on Sunday morning, we were surprised to see what could have been no other than a marathoner, wearing a finisher's medal and a safety blanket marked "Philadelphia Marathon 2015" and carrying a bag full of race swag. He was sprinkling cinnamon on his latte and whistling. More appeared, looking relaxed and pink-cheeked, if also slightly underfed. It was Marathon Day in the city. We walked toward the Museum of Art, through safety checkpoints and around barricades, once accidentally going into the wrong museum (!!) and asking at least four different clutches of uniformed police how we could get from right here to over there [" Go back to the 18th Street checkpoint." "Go up to 22nd and take a left, no more than ten minutes." "Maybe they'll let you through the barrier over there?"] It took forty minutes to hack through the race mobs and barricades to reach the famous steps by which time I could not imagine running up them. If that song had been playing anywhere, though, I would have. You would have, too. Best song in the world, ever.
Nude Descending a Staircase". One said, "I look at that every day and I still don't see it." Another came over, waved an arm at us all and said, "Stand back, Im'a teach you this painting. Her eyes? [points] Her arm? [gestures] The rest is movement." Click. The other docent was all, "Oh yeaaaaahhh! Now I see it!" The best.
Loop on South Street (oh please, let me live there) and I felt up all the Brooklyn Tweed and Madelinetosh. I couldn't help it with those four skeins of Shelter, dear me, it's divine.
Five minutes from home, it started to pour snow, and we came the last ten miles in a whiteout blizzard. Woke up to this: