Eat at Ralph’s!

I’m @ lunch., orig­i­nal­ly uploaded by Black­mail Is My Life.

I’ve been mean­ing to talk about what it’s like to work in Philadel­phi­a’s newest sky­scraper. In a word: unbe­liev­able. Most impres­sive of all may be our cafe­te­ria, Ralph’s. Not only is the food afford­able and rather tasty (I’ll have more pho­tos up soon), it also has some of the most breath­tak­ing, ver­ti­go-induc­ing views of the city. I keep telling myself it’ll get old some­day, but I have a feel­ing that views like the one above will ever get old.

Jeal­ous?

The pork!

The pork!, orig­i­nal­ly uploaded by Black­mail Is My Life.

Our friend Thad lov­ing­ly cared for this pork as it smoked for six­teen hours (pic­tured here at hour twelve.) This includ­ed mon­i­tor­ing it and adding water to the wood chips overnight. He used three ther­mome­ters each of which had a cor­re­spond­ing transpon­der. He kept both transpon­ders next to his head on his air mat­tress while he slept, wak­ing up repeat­ed­ly through­out the night to tend to the meat.

How did it taste? Let me give you an idea: there were twen­ty pounds of meat and only twelve guys at the cab­in. We start­ed eat­ing Sat­ur­day night and it was all but gone Sun­day morning.

I did men­tion that it was a great week­end, right?

Parklife!

Park­life!, orig­i­nal­ly uploaded by Black­mail Is My Life.

This week­end was an absolute blast. I’m not much for get­ting out in nature–a youth spent on a farm can do that to a body–but the per­fect weath­er and good com­pa­ny went a long way to mak­ing Mikey’s bach­e­lor par­ty a great success.

Among the high­lights: the crisp, fall-like weath­er; a late night pad­dle in the canoe beneath a canopy of stars; a beau­ti­ful day at the races; pork lov­ing­ly smoked for six­teen hours; script­ing prank calls to a strip club; and, last­ly, get­ting togeth­er with a bunch of friends to eat, drink and have a great time.

I visited Philly Book Company yesterday.

If there’s some­thing Philadel­phi­a’s real­ly miss­ing, it’s a book­store like the Strand. What makes the Strand great is the same thing that used to make some record stores great: pro­mos. We need some­thing like this. I thought Philadel­phia Book Com­pa­ny might be the answer, but it isn’t yet.

When I wan­dered into the ware­house on Frank­ford, it looked promis­ing. There are book dis­plays in the cen­ter of the space sur­round­ed by met­al book­shelves stacked high with who knows what. It seemed like the answer to my prayers. Who knew that uwishunu would lead me astray?

But it’s not real­ly uwishunu’s fault, at least not entire­ly. It’s the Philadel­phia Book Com­pa­ny’s web­site, which is essen­tial­ly a mas­sive affil­i­ate fun­nel for Ama­zon. What hap­pened was I had searched a few titles–right now I’m look­ing to pick up David Car­r’s mem­oir, Alex Ross’ The Rest is Noise, George Lewis’ book about A.A.C.M., and Mark’s friend’s book about trib­ute bands–and they all appeared in the search results! Lit­tle did I know I’d over­looked the note that states that any book not found in their inven­to­ry returns Ama­zon search results. Bummer.

Philadel­phi­a’s lit­er­ary Shangri-La remains a myth, at least for now. I hold out hope that some dar­ing entre­pre­neur will open a used book­store that’s more than a garbage heap for books, but with the way things are going for the pub­lish­ing indus­try, it’s prob­a­bly only a mat­ter of time before review copies become a thing of the past, and that inde­pen­dent book­stores, which are already strug­gling to sur­vive, qui­et­ly slip off, too.