Archive | September, 2011

Secret Stash

15 Sep

We’re all hiding something.  Little baggies of of illegal drugs wrapped up like an engagement ring, your best friends pair of booty shorts, or the reason you have that black eye.  But there is nothing like hiding a period on an airplane.

Somewhere between Boston and Florida you realize the crimson tide has taken hold and you have a few moments before your neighbor gets carried away in a river.  Seat belt sign still on, you can dash for the toilet door (illegal, but who gives a shit when nature is doing its thing), and make a rat hold escape. 

During a recent flight, I came to this particular impasse.  Trapped in the airplane toilet, flushed with embarrassment, searching for anything that could save me.  And to my surprise I found the secret lady drawer.  Right there full of all the (cheap) feminine products I could need.   Relieved after my find, I enjoyed the rest of my flight.

No one makes an announcement on the flight about this “extra” comforts.

Remember your closest exit may be behind you.  Please secure your oxygen device before helping someone else.  Additional feminine products can be found in our restrooms.  Complimentary soft drinks will be available on this flight.

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Philadelphia: The City of Neighborly Love

9 Sep

We can’t all be brothers, its rude to even assume that in Philly everyone can share that brotherly love.  I suspect that’s why tourists are shocked by the aggression on the Schuylkill or the load honks followed by a passing middle finger.

Whats not obvious to the passing eye are the tightly knit neighborhoods that make up Philadelphia.  Even the most desolate and empty streets hold together an underlying bond.  Maybe its because we’ve all had something stolen or we know what its like when something important is returned.

Yesterday, my friend Greg relayed this story:

I bought this saxophone from the music teacher i was taking lessons from.  I was bout 13 years old and I loved it.  A few years later I had my saxophone and trumpet stowed in my car outside my house in Factoryville Pa and they were stolen.  It can happy anywhere people, anywhere!

A couple of weeks later my Dad strolled into a pawn shop and saw my saxophone just laying there.  He knew it was mine because it was very distinctive and he brought her back to me.  The trumpet never came home.

Well, last week Maggie (his girlfriend) and I were coming home and moving tons of stuff out of our car to a new apartment on Sunday.  On the following Thursday I remember I’d left my saxophone on the side of the street.  Stunned in all disbelief that I had left her outside and totally unable to move, Maggie began calling Pawn shops all over Philadelphia.

I took a moment to go to the kitchen where I found Rania (roommate).  I told Rania I was upset because I had left my saxophone outside.  And then she told me she had run into a neighbor  named Dave that had asked if someone wanted a trumpet that he’d found on the street.  She pointed me in his direction and I was off!

I saw someone on the porch of the house and asked if he knew Dave.  In turn he called up loudly to the third floor. “DAAAVVEE!” Dave stuck his head out the window and gave me a look that he knew why I’d come.  He came down holding the “trumpet”  and  I thanked him.  I asked if I could give him some money and he said sure.  I asked if $50 was enough and he said sure.  He told me he’d like to hear me play sometime and I offered to play it right then, but he declined shyly.

Before I left, he told me that someone up there (point to the sky) and told him to hang onto it.  He knew how important musical instruments can be.  That’s how I got my saxophone back.  So lets celebrate Dave!