Tag: memories

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Going Downtown, Part 5

Hot-Diggity-Queen-Village-Philadelphia-1-600-vpHot Diggity! That’s where we ate a late lunch on Saturday afternoon. It’s a kitschy place with a dynamic atmosphere, and they had pretty much every hot dog you might ever want to eat (plus some that you would probably be better off leaving alone). We stood outside the restaurant and looked at the menu long enough to see that they had vegetarian options for every single hot dog selection, which sold us on it. And, hey, the name was cute too.

Joy was automatically drawn to the Saigon Fusion, a modern name for a hot dog if I’ve ever heard one. It featured cucumbers, shredded vegetables, a chili vinaigrette, hot peppers, carrot shreds, and cilantro, and I ordered the same. When they arrived they were stuffed full to overflowing with so many goodies they made my mouth water. I wish I could have bottled that emotion because after just one bite of the huge hot dog I was ready to pour water down my throat it was so hot. It made my eyes burn, but man was it good!

We sat facing the huge window of the shop that created a good cross view of South Street in its full Saturday afternoon glory, with people going to and fro having a great time, oblivious to us watching them from the other side of the glass. I still maintain that South Street has some of the oddest people you will ever see in the same place at the same time, from the goths in all black, to the Amish leading goats, to the hipsters with skinny jeans, to the tourists who heard so much about the place they had to see it for themselves. With cameras out they capture all the other types of folks until their cameras are stolen in the hustle and bustle.

Then we were off again, once more a part of that moving organism sliding down South Street, but we were headed back to Center City and another festival, this one at Dilworth Park, a revamped area outside of City Hall designed specifically for these types of events. With our feet tired from so much walking we took the subway to City Hall, which loomed large over our heads when we emerged into the sunlight in the late afternoon. As we headed through the center of the building where a large courtyard greeted us we saw a girls’ acapella group singing show tunes and collecting money for their efforts. They were not in tune, but they had a lot of money in their bucket. Go figure.
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Tales of All Hallow’s Night

DSC_3154My first Halloween night in upstate New York was spent hiding from angry children.

The holiday was never one I really followed when I was growing up, coming as I did from an ultra-religious family where to speak of ghosts was tantamount to swearing. Indeed, even the classic cartoons giving homage to All Hallow’s Eve were banned from our home. The night itself was rife with little hoodlums scattering near and far in search of candy (the treats), or ways to deface houses and property (the tricks).

In our house we were always in well before nightfall, and the night was treated like just another night, with family games, wholesome television shows, and an early bedtime. The next day was always interesting, though, because some of the kids at school would have plastic baggies chock full of candy, and they would taunt those of us who had nothing. It made me a bit jealous to see them lord it up over us but my mother always told me all candy did was rot the teeth, and did I want rotten teeth? I most decidedly did not.

As the years went by the jealousy passed into the ether for the most part, but on occasion I would still see those kids wandering from door to door and wish I were them. But my mother was unrelenting so I stopped asking and decided it was my lot in life. Eventually, though, when 11th grade rolled around I guess Joy and I were old enough to make our own decision. Of course the irony of it all was that by then the novelty of the experience had mostly worn off for other adolescents. Teenagers were buying their own candy, or just trashing yards and egging houses instead of lugging baskets from door to door.

children-trick-or-treatingBut we decided to go for it anyway — me, Joy, and our friend Karen — rather spontaneous that year. You see, we were supposed to be heading to the church basketball game at our old elementary school. Rather than going straight there, though, we had our other friend drop us off 10 blocks away, and we followed the kids around Mt. Airy begging for candy. First, though, we had to make ourselves legit, and we all happened to be wearing ballcaps, so we called ourselves the Hat Squad. Then, at the first house we “hit,” the nice lady gave us all plastic shopping bags. And we were in business.

That remains the only time I ever went trick-or-treating in my life, at least for myself, and the memories of it were totally worth the wait, and the subsequent absence of it. Perhaps that’s all I needed, to know how it looked from the other side, just that once, and it was enough. Besides, going as an 11th grader was kind of hip in a weird way, but going as a 12th grader would have just been creepy. All I know is that the candy we got that filled up our plastic bags tasted better than any other candy I’d had before or that I’ve had since. Continue reading “Tales of All Hallow’s Night”