Mr. Right and I have returned from our trip through Philadelphia and Washington. A wonderful time was had by both of us, and we met some wonderful people.

Lest We Forget



Last Sunday, the 2nd (Mr. Right's birthday), found us in Shanksville, PA, at the makeshift tribute to Flight 93. Nobody who wasn't on a list of family members was permitted to walk on the actual site, but there was a parking area on a hill that overlooked, which was turned into a visitor's center.



It's obvious why there shouldn't be a giant tribute to Islam put up here, but personally, I do not feel that any government memorial is necessary. There is a chaotic outpouring of love and admiration that has been put in place, by the people, for the people. Some tendered "arty" or "cultural" monument to the bravery of those passengers would spoil everything.


If you look very closely (sorry, no zoom lens), you will notice that off in the distance there is a speck close to the center of the image. That speck is the American flag, on the fence around the perimeter of the crash site.










Mr. Right and I left our own small tribute: the magnet from the back of our car. I would rather see that than a huge red crescent, wouldn't you?

City of Brotherly Love


Philadelphia is beautiful, and that's where we were on Monday, October 3rd (my birthday). That day, in addition to being a celebration of my 29 years on this planet, was the basis and the focus of my whole trip. I had been planning for some months to make the pilgrimage to the City of Brotherly Love to meet one of my readers, Zumkopf, before he leaves this incarnation. And so the two hours we spent having lunch with him at a wonderful restaurant in Rittenhouse Square was all I could ask for in a birthday present. And I know what I want for next year: I want him to still be with us. I know I'm not the only one.

I would like to say a special thanks to Monica at Salon Infiniti for saving me from a major hair disaster that morning. Under the circumstances, I really wanted to look my best. Unfortunately, I managed to forget my mousse, short circuit my hair dryer, and frizz beyond the border of ridiculous, all the way to pitiful. Being Monday, almost all the hair salons were closed. But this one place that catered to African American hair (if they couldn't straighten mine, no one could) was open, and shuffled their schedule to accommodate my panic. They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression - it was never so true as in the case of my lunch with Z. Salon Infiniti, I will remember you fondly (corner of 12th & Sansom, for those of you in the area).


Philly is the cradle of American civilization, where the Declaration of Independence was signed, and where the infamously cracked (just like me) Liberty Bell still hangs.


I did not have the opportunity to see the Bell up close, since I had little Bug with me (they said he could enter if he was a utility dog - hardly - he's a chihuahua, and therefore useless), but Mr. Right went in to take pictures for me. I stood outside the glass walls, and looked in.




Betsy Ross's House

Rodin's The Thinker

A giant clothespin, against the backdrop of the Town Hall. It was kinda cool.

The city fountains were dyed pink, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.

The stairs from Rocky.

Philadelphia was also a city of shopping for us. I bought my new prescription glasses and contact lenses at a savings of over $300. And Mr. Right and I stocked up on books at Barnes & Noble. The difference in prices of books between the U.S and Canada is between $6-$12 per item. So we bought 15 books between us. More on that later.


Thought my Conservative Canadian readers would get a kick out of this.