Appreciating Philadelphia as a Home

Fairmount. Twenty minutes to Center City if I walk fast. City benefits with suburban neighborly feel. That combination doesn’t exist in most places.

My neighbor’s daughter cat-sits for us. A different neighbor’s daughter has babysat a few times. That same neighbor watched our kid for free so my wife and I could go out for our first date night after he was born. He’s still a baby. We share yards. I know the people on my block.

At 11pm I ordered sushi and it showed up. Pizza at midnight too, no problem. This is normal here.

I love that poker is legal here. I played a lot of it before my kid was born. I love the fact you get a completely random and diverse mix of people at a table. I made a friend who spent 20 years in prison for something — not sure what, I don’t dig — and who jokes that he had a lot of time to read, which is why he can quote from Paradise Lost and Don Quixote, which is impressive for a guy who didn’t finish high school. I remember playing 1/2 one night with him and a bank executive at the same table — the latter was wearing a fancy cord knit sweater probably worth $1,000. The former was wearing an As hat and some ratty clothing. I was wearing a hoody and hadn’t shaved in a couple days. None of that mattered. We’re here to play and gamble and drink and have fun.

That table is also the whole reason I wrote the case for isolating with a strong hand — when you have an edge, the right move is to play it heads-up, not to dilute it across a multiway pot. Same principle that makes the poker room work: include everyone at the table, then play your own hand.

Look, I like Rita’s ice cream. It’s chemical and definitely not as healthy as the organic stuff you can get from Whole Foods for roughly the same price. But I actually like the chemical taste of their vanilla and chocolate swirl ice cream.

Running clubs everywhere. All speeds. Nobody is impressed you showed up. You just show up and run and now you’re part of something.

I run with the Fairmount Running Club, founded by a guy named Bennett 20 years ago I think. Him and his dog Princess are celebrities in the Fairmount area. When I jog with him (because he’s kind enough to slow down to my pace), everyone from 20 year old college women to the 50 year old crossing guard Ken to the two 80 year old sisters who walk their dog Betty (or was it Betsy, I don’t know and I feel awkward to ask them) behind the Penitentiary know him. And he didn’t start this club to meet people, to get fit (he’s already in ridiculous shape) or as one of the “all the new rage” running clubs that are dating venues — I think he just wanted to contribute to his communities, fairmount and runners.

Making friends here is easy. I moved from New York where you can live in a building for three years and not know your neighbor. Here I built a friend group of young parents by walking down the street and saying hi. Or a Facebook group. That doesn’t happen in New York.

People here still talk to each other on the street. Not everyone, but enough. There’s a grid of normalcy underneath the dysfunction and the dysfunction gets all the press. This is me covering the grid.