Walking the Walk

I'm not really a big city person. I prefer the quiet of rural and semi-rural areas. Still, after having spent time in the hearts of New York City, Boston, Toronto, and now Philadelphia, I must admit there is a charm in what is often called a walkable downtown.

While we did have to move the rental car once on the Sunday we spent in Philadelphia last week, once parked we found several things to see within an easy walk. Granted, Philly is an old and historic city compared to Detroit (as are New York and Boston) but there sure seems to be more to see there than at home. What was most interesting was in how quickly things changed. We could be in a noisy, touristy area, then turn a corner to discover row houses which clearly date to the 1700 and 1800 hundreds nestled in quiet, narrow streets. It really did feel like stepping back in history.

There were museums and shops and outdoor activities all around. They tended towards pricey yet not terribly so, and there was free things to see and do just the same. We had our pictures taken by the Rocky statue near the Philadelphia Museum of Art, for example. 

I doubt that I could live too long in such tightly packed areas but I think I could do it for a year simply for the experience, these dense downtown areas. Perhaps it's familiarity, but I do not feel that for Detroit. C'est la vie.

Gentle Reminder

Three Sundays ago as me boys and I returned to our hotel after seeing the Red Sox at Fenway Park and then making a literal walk of several historic sights in downtown Boston, we were a bit tired. Well, they were: the old man was ready for another several hours of sightseeing. The night was young! 

Be that as it may, we elected to eat a late dinner at the restaurant in the hotel rather than taking a chance on finding a place somewhere else on a Sunday evening. 

As the pub and grub was open until 10 and we walked in around 8:45, we figured we wouldn't be inconveniencing the staff. Still, we sat at a table for better than ten minutes without attention. We began to whisper between ourselves about perhaps simply grabbing a pizza from the carry out joint we saw a block away. At that point the waiter walked around the bar to approach us.

Or so we thought. He came near but breezed on by, and actually on out the front door. Okay.

A few more minutes of our lives burned off and I finally suggested, maybe a tad louder than necessary, that we ought to just trudge across to Domino's when me son Frank ever-so-gently gave me about the softest elbow to the ribs a guy might get. He saw where I hadn't that the waiter was finally coming up with menus. "Can I get you fellows anything to drink?" he asked, very pleasantly.

So we ordered our dinners and ate, and he was reasonable attentive after that. Yet what I will always remember about the night was the most subtle possible poke in the the ribs a man could ever imaging getting.

Forsesight

Two weeks ago in Boston, it was cold. I did not take a coat or jacket of any type with me, so I was just cold.

This morning in Hessel, MI in Michigan's glorious Upper Peninsula, it's cold. But I brought long sleeves and a hoodie with me, so I was warm enough on my morning walk. 

Foresight is important. Plan on any reasonable contingencies. I can be taught.