Philadelphia.
As children, in all the trekking to historical sites–Jamestown, Plymouth, the United States Capital, Gettysburg, Pier 49, the Freedom Trail, the Statue of Liberty–of all the national parks where we were forced into becoming Junior Rangers, of all the cities on the eastern seaboard, my parents never took us to Philadelphia.
This negligent oversight was remedied a few weeks ago when we went to Philadelphia to take in the wondrous Liberty Bell through a smudged window, to devour a Philly cheesesteak, to wander in delight through The Barnes Foundation (oh.my.word. It has been officially added to my list of favorite museums. It might even be on the top five list.), to meander our way down Walnut Street, to buy film for my medium format camera because I had run out.
To quote a great man, “Yo, Adrian, we did it… We did it.”
