People always ask me where I’m “from.” I don’t know how to answer: I was born in the city of Philadelphia, grew up there and in towns on both sides of the Delaware River, and lived as an adult in Wildwood N.J., Oakland Park Fla., San Francisco, San Rafael and Novato Calif., Hakalau and Hilo Hawai’i, San Diego Calif., and Boston Mass.
So what’s “from” mean? Where I grew up? I spent most of my life elsewhere. Where I am now? It’s cool, but I’m not a Bostonian, or even a Masshole… been a lifetime assoholic and I can’t blame geography for that.
Fact is, though, I feel more sort of “with my peeps” when I’m in the Northeast. Yes, there’s a lot of small-mindedness, and willful ignorance… a sort of cultural anti-intellectualism that pissed me off growing up and still chaps my ass. But there’s a bluntness here that I really appreciate, and the cities are walkable. You hear a dozen languages on the street, and you can actually run into people who are different from you, as opposed to California, where you go from house to car to office to car to mall to house.
People are racist as fuck, but probably no more than anywhere else. And, for the most part, at least they are honest about it, which is I guess preferable. Still.
Anyway, I’ve been from Boston to New York and Baltimore in the past week, and headed up to my birth-lands in the Greater Delaware Valley for the weekend. New York is fucking fantastic, but I’d have to completely get rid of my car if I lived there. Driving in NYC made me want to stab myself repeatedly in the pancreas with a dull salad fork. I’d rather walk ten miles than sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Canal Street ever again. Baltimore is equal parts retro cool and white-trash ghetto. I like the edgy style of B’more, but it ain’t me, yo. I’d have to get my tattoo removed if I settled here. It’s like everybody from toddlers to senior citizens has ink.
I have a love-hate relationship with Philly. I’ll be honest: mostly hate. What I remember from growing up there is that people don’t know shit and hate anybody who does. I fled as soon as I left my parents’ house, never to look back. While I’m open to changing my prejudices, a couple hours spent on layover at Philadelphia International earlier this year made me feel like the “City of Brotherly Love” is still the Shithole of Sullen Hostility, so I’m not holding my breath. But still, it’s a good old-fashioned spare-me-the-bullshit town… and there’s cheesesteaks, so that’s cool.
I’m glad I spent the time I did on the West Coast, learning to not be such an asshole. But I’m firmly of the opinion that a man’s got to have a bit of an edge: Sensitive New Age Guys (SNAGs) get on everybody’s nerves: women and men alike. You don’t have to be a macho prick, just be a man with some fucking heart:
The weather sucks, it’s dirty, polluted and corrupt, and you’re taking your life in your hands if you get sushi at any place where you can actually afford it. But fuck it, it’s home.
