Mess of the Damned

At last report, officially 26.7 inches was measured at Philadelphia International Airport, 3.5 inches more than was reported for the Dec. 19-20 storm and second all-time behind only the 30.7 of Jan. 7-8, 1996.

Before this winter, Philadelphia had never had two snowfalls of more than 14 inches in the same season.

So much for global warming.

Al Gore can suck it.

Outside the window, snow is falling on Philadelphia and I am settled, finally warm, in my new residence.

I am purely tickled with this place. It’s very high up. The downstairs neighbors leave their shoes in the hallway. And I have to park on the street. The advantages vastly outweigh these minor disturbances.

I have a washer and dryer. I cannot express how supremely delighted I am to have a washer and dryer. It really is the little things in life that make it worth living. Like not having to rochambeau itinerant hispanics for my turn at the soap choked pay washer.

This place is on a third floor which in most buildings would be somewhere around the 5th. This enables me to look down on the world. As that is my natural position even at ground level I am delirious with joy.

I have a bay window. From which to look down upon the world.

Five blocks to the east is the Delaware River. One block to the north my street dead ends at a purveyor of alcoholic slurpees. Five blocks over and less than two up I can get a full Irish breakfast on the weekends with a pot of very bad tea and a pint of very good cider. And proper football is usually on.

I am about to fix myself a gin and tonic using gin and tonic and my faithful gin and tonic glass that haven’t been touched since I left Gettysburg in May 2008. These are the small comforts of domesticity.

It’s been nearly nineteen months since I packed up my things and set out on the road. Since then, when I wasn’t living in hotels or visiting friends I’ve been relying on the charity of family.

Now that it seems I’ll be in the Philadelphia area for a while, it seemed appropriate to get my own digs. So I’ve done that. I’m going to try living in the BIG city for a while. That will be an interesting adjustment. I’ll have to cope with on street parking, very little green space, large crowds a block from my house – particularly on weekends – and an extended commute across the Delaware daily to New Jersey.

On the flip side I end up within stumbling distance of some wonderful bars and restaurants, a couple of blocks one direction from three grocery stores and a couple of blocks in the other direction from an excellent irish breakfast. I’ve got a bay window, a washer/dryer and plenty of space for a not obnoxious sum of money.

And best of all, I’ve got a legitimate address of my own. And a place for my stuff.

I miss my stuff.

So if anyone’s in town after Groundhog Day, you are very welcome. Even if I never actually bother to haul all the crap I want up the three-hundred and eleventy-three steps in the building the floor’s likely to be fairly comfortable.