For some reason the kids didn’t have school last Friday and we hadn’t left the Washington, D.C., metro area as a family since July. So we decided to take a trip to Philadelphia. The drive from our house in Bethesda to our hotel in downtown Philadelphia was less than three hours, or just enough time for the kids to watch Mean Girls and School of Rock with time left over to fight about who was touching whom in the backseat of the SUV. Back in Boise, it would take at least three hours to get just about anywhere, so no big thing.
We picked Philadelphia because I’d never been there and neither had the kids. Carissa had only been there for work. I knew that Philadelphia was known as the city of brotherly love, although when I asked one of my colleagues who is from Philadelphia where this came from she said every city needs a motto but beyond that she was uncertain. She conceded that its sports fans take pride in their reputation of first-rate assholes. I suppose I could google it but to be honest I don’t care that much. Anyway, we were aware Philadelphia has a rich, deep history. The first and second Continental Congresses met there, and it’s where Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence and James Madison and Alexander Hamilton pieced together the United States Constitution. Philadelphia is also where heavyweight boxer Rocky Balboa lived and trained for his title bout against Apollo Creed back in the 1970s. Balboa, known as the Italian Stallion, lost to the overwhelming favorite Creed in a split decision in 1976, the bicentennial year of the signing of the Declaration. Although he lost the fight, Balboa’s underdog status and tenacity as a fighter vaulted him to celebrity status and he ultimately enjoyed a long history of successes, failures, and redemption in the sport.
Philadelphia has a lot going on and for a quick two-day family vacation, we were not disappointed. Day one we arrived late morning, checked into our hotel, and headed out on foot for the Franklin Institute, an interactive science museum designed especially for kids. But first we had to have lunch and unfortunately the five-year-old spotted a McDonald’s before we could steer her toward a food cart serving Philly cheese steaks. So we McGagged down some McBurgers and McFries before spending the afternoon at the science museum. Both our five-year-old and twelve-year-old girls enjoyed the Franklin Institute, which offers more hand-on science experiments than you can count. The enormous human heart maze was promoted as a highlight, but the kids found it to be creepy. Me too. It smelled like latex and looked like its inner chambers had been touched by many, many greasy, grubby child hands. But the museum housed lots of cool stuff that kept the kids busy and entertained, including a sports science section where you could measure the speed of your fastball or determine how quickly you could get off the start line in a drag race. You could also compare your vertical jump to a variety of high-flying NBA players. I didn't have the right shoes and I had just eaten or else I'm pretty sure I would have done better. You could also sit at the controls of an actual (disabled) fighter jet and old steam locomotive as well. The older one took a ride on a “skybike” that
allowed you to ride on a cable high above the ground floor of the museum.
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| Riding the sky bike. |
The next day we focused on the Independence National Historic Park. But not before walking through a gritty urban scene that was almost as interesting as riding a skybike. Not sure about the entire backstory, but one guy was angry about ten one-dollar bills he apparently had given the other guy and there was a lot of mother-fucker this and mother-fucker that and n-word this and n-word that. Yo, I got your brotherly love right here, bitches! The kids took the cultural experience in stride and we continued down Market Street to sites where Franklin and Adams and Jefferson and Madison and Alexander and their contemporaries once walked and dined and founded a nation. Our tour of Independence Hall was moving. We saw the chair George Washington sat in while presiding over the Constitution Convention in 1787 at which he ultimately was elected to be the first president of the United States. We rode in a horse-drawn carriage and our city kids complained when Pete the horse pooped while pulling us along Chestnut Street. I told them what I was always told when I complained about the smell of manure as a kid: That’s the smells of money. Apparently you had to be a farm kid to understand. My kids looked at me as if I had suggested they scoop up the horse droppings and eat them.
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| Actual size. |
In contrast to the Liberty Bell, the Reading Terminal Market, of which I was previously ignorant, was fantastic. Even as someone who generally gets twitchy in loud, crowded places, I loved the chaotic bazaar filled with stalls of vendors selling fresh and local wares, everything from specialty meats to baked goods to produce to fresh fish to candy to cut flowers to smoked meats to ethnic and cultural food stands of all stripes – Greek, Italian, Thai, Middle East, Amish, Soul. I skipped the salmon heads on sale for a dollar fifty at one of the Asian fish stalls, but I can tell you the Amish make one mean sausage, cheese, and egg breakfast sandwich.
We will plan another trip to Philadelphia in the future. Two days were insufficient to visit all of the sites. The history and cultural districts are walkable from any downtown hotel with lots of dining choices. The ultimate recommendation comes from the kids. They both had fun and the twelve-year-old even admitted she was skeptical about the trip (as a tween, her job is to be skeptical about everything proposed by her parents) but that she was happy that we made her go. The ultimate compliment.
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