Road Trip

Philadelphia Freedom

The last time I remember visiting Philadelphia, I must have been in fifth grade. I have this memory of wearing a hot pink shirt under dark blue, acid-washed overalls. I rolled the legs up way too high, because I was a huge dork back then. Well, I’m still a huge dork, it’s just that back then, I was way more self-conscious about it.

Anyway, we did the Liberty Bell, and Independence Hall, and Betsy Ross’s house. And that’s really the extent of what I remember. So I thought another visit, something like twenty years later (shit, I’m old!), was worth taking.

Can I be honest with you? Philly is not as interesting as I thought it would be. Don’t get me wrong - it is the birthplace of our nation and it’s cool that there is so much history there, but as a city, it doesn’t rank anywhere near Boston, or even New York.

Maybe I’m bitter because of all of the walking I did.

But really. The security to get into the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall? They hand search each and every bag. I almost felt bad for the dudes who did it, cuz all they found at each place was an iPod and feminine hygiene products. What’s next? Cavity searches at Ben Franklin’s grave?

Speaking of that, they charge you two bucks to enter the Christ Church cemetery. On principle, I refused to pay to see the resting places of centuries-dead people. I can see then for free in Boston. Besides, Ben and his wife, Deborah, lie right inside the fence. You can see the site from the street.

Betsy Ross house was interesting. The stairs are just as narrow as they were when I was around 10, but seeing as I’m a bit bigger, maneuvering up and down them was a bit different. They have a Betsy impersonator who gives a short speech about how making flags was treason back in the day. She also did other treasonous work - involving firearms for the Revolutionary soldiers. Go on, Betsy, you’re a badass! :)

We walked around and tried to find things. We probably should have planned a bit better as we had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. I did take a lot of photos, though.

Aside from the historic stuff, there is one thing I wanted to do. I know it’s cheesy as all hell, but I wanted to run up the Rocky Steps. I thought this was a good month to do it, since I’ve been making all these financially responsible choices and I achieved a savings account and a zero credit card balance and, oh, you know the rest. To make a much-repeated story short, I feel like I kind of won a fight or two this month, so running up those steps (perhaps with “Gonna Fly Now” blasting in my ears) would be a celebration of sorts.

Also? The Rocky movies are like, legend among my immediate family and several friends. My parents own practically every movie Sylvester Stallone has ever been in (good or bad, that’s your call). Rocky IV is oft-quoted, the soundtrack is oft-listened to, and shit, I own every one of the movies.

So we started walking up Arch Street towards the Museum District. We made it about twelve blocks before we realized that the museum is on the other side of the Ben Franklin Parkway. Shit, a parkway? We can’t walk a parkway! We hobbled back the twelve blocks to try to find our car (that took a bit of work, too).

When we drove back up the way we had headed, we realized that the ‘parkway’ wasn’t what we Jerseyans think of when we hear the word. Although really, it’s better that we didn’t walk it because I don’t think I could’ve beared walking back to the historic district afterwards.

After parking, we headed to the Rocky Statue, where some guy took our photos and swindled Steve into tipping him. I wouldn’t have done it, because really? Really, dude? But I guess it was worth it, since there was one photo Steve took on my camera, and it was blurry and crappy. The ones that the dude took were way better.

It was time to approach the steps. Folks? There is no way in hell, if Rocky Balboa was in fact a real person, that he would have jogged through the mean streets of his Philadelphia neighborhood and all the way up those steps in Converse sneakers. I was wearing my Chucks, and my feet were hurting somethin’ fierce. I jogged up each step of steps slowly, and walked the landing between each. Kind of like how you used to run in the halls in school, slowing down to walk past the classrooms or the principal’s office. So, I didn’t do a triumphant run up the steps (a few others did, though, and we pointed and laughed), but I made it up. The view is amazing. I could not find Rocky’s shoe prints, though.

Having seen Philly, I’ve decided that one: I should plan trips better next time, and two: I really don’t feel a need to return anytime soon.

I am stiff and achy all over. Yo, Adrian. Get me some ice!

Tags: Boston, family, iPod, movies, museum, Philadelphia, Rocky Balboa, Rocky Statue, Rocky Steps

© 2008 barelymyself.com.