Jesus God. I went to the trouble to find and paste that cheesesteak thing, and then Blogger went and found it for me. I must be a total moron.
This is the one I was talking about. The other post was an introductory thing. No biggie if you don’t see it again.
Monday, December 01, 2003
Smokes: Camel Light Wides.
Tunes: “Billy Breathes,” Phish. A couple of my favorite songs from this turned up on the setlist at Saturday’s show in the Spectrum, and I’m still in full post-show glow mode.
After the conclusion of Saturday’s Phish show in Philly, The Wife and I made a point of doing one of those touristy things that cities of certain size all seem to offer. In Philadelphia’s case, it was driving to Passyunk and Ninth to get some sloppy cheesesteaks from Geno’s or Pat’s. I’ve read that natives generally write off both places in favor of lesser known steaks, but going to the cheesesteak corner is something that everyone has to do once.
What we learned:
– Geno’s looks prettier. Lots of neon.
– The lines move fairly quickly.
– We apparently move more quickly than most of the other folks who attended the show. By the time we got our steaks, the line, which wound around the block, was full of hungry hippies.
– The folks at Geno’s are pretty impressed with the fact that Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake have eaten there. Among the endless rows of celebrity photos that hang around the place are at least three with the formerly happy couple, and at least one more from a separate visit Timberlake made at some point.
– A lot of the celebrities were people we had never heard of. There also were a ton of professional wrestlers.
– The hot sauce on the counter by the sidewalk is HOT. It nearly brought The Wife to tears, and she’s a hot sauce freak.
– Knowing how to order is important. The locals standing in front of us asked us if we knew of the Seinfeld soup nazi episode. “It’s a lot like that,” one guy said. “They’ll yell.” If you’re having a cheesesteak, you order by cheese type (whiz, provolone, American) and whether you want grilled onions. We both ordered “provolone with.” If you’re local, you say “wit” instead of “with.”
– The sandwiches are VERY good.
– The best part, surprisingly, is the bread, a fresh-baked crusty Italian roll.
Next time we spend a weekend in Philly, we’ll take the time to find one of the places the locals say is best. But the trip to Geno’s after the show was the perfect way to cap a great night.
OK, I changed the title and page of this bad boy, and it seems to be working with the recent posts, but my archives have vanished. We’re not missing much from the first post, but I did have a cool one about eating cheesesteaks at Geno’s in Philly after a Phish show in Novemeber. If it’s gone forever … we’ll just carry on. Bravely. Stiff upper lip and all that shit.
Me and Blogger, we’re not seein’ eye-to-eye. I’m going to try to unfuck some of this stuff and see what happens.
The meatloaf was awe-inspiring. But my blog isn’t doing as well. I made a couple changes to the title and some other shit, and it vanished for a while. I’m not even sure it’s back, so we’re going to find out.
Jesus …. Why can’t I screw around with the template for this without losing all the stuff I’ve done so far? OK, the counter and the comments are a little silly at this point, because nobody’s reading this yet, but now I have to go back and find all that stuff again. How can I become an award-winning online publisher when I have to deal with all this stuff?
There’s some stuff I need to catch up with, but I’m not feeling the urge at the moment. Here’s what’s coming:
— My wife learned to ski last weekend. Went much better than I expected.
— I still haven’t written anything for my friend’s zine.
— It’s snowed here for like eight straight months, and I’m consistently amazed at how much this freaks people out.
— And there’s still the Groundhog Day explanation. T-minus three days and counting.
Before I get into any of that, I’m going to go eat my leftover meatloaf.