Pittsburg PA – Meeting with Friends

Tonight I scored the jackpot – a friend’s house to sleep at. I arrived at the residence of a certain Emily. She was living with her boyfriend Nathan, his two kids, and her own similarly aged daughter. The house was going through a tremendous amount of growing pains as its kitchen was being remodeled, as well as bits and pieces of the rest of the house. They apologized immediately for the mess, but I understood. Renovations are never a tidy process.

I ended up staying three days and taking a bit of a break here. Despite having three kids this place was calm and comforting. The children were all remarkably well-behaved and intelligent (and yes, I do consider most children to be numb as sticks so this is quite a compliment.) Nathan had decorated the house with his own unique artwork, which we spent quite awhile admiring, and Emily wowed me with her fantastic vegan cooking. As if that wasn’t cool enough they had two outrageously friendly and laid back Tonkinese cats and an adorable little skunk who came out nightly to eat.

I even enjoyed their children who delighted in making chalk art on the rock pathway outside and who dug up worms by the hundreds, squealing at them with wonder. Of course the eldest, a boy, felt the need to fill his sister’s Barbie car with worms before burying the whole thing in the back yard while she cried. It wasn’t long though before the girls found themselves distracted by playing with their own batch of worms, rolling them in the chalk until they came out all sorts of pretty colors (and incidentally stopped moving.)

Later the kids gave us one more hearty laugh as one of the girls asked for a bath. “Teacher says I need one. She washed me up a bit but said I still needed a bath. She washed me with a hose outside!” The children were no dirtier than an average mud-loving child, despite the anecdote making it sound so bad. Luckily everyone was still laughing.

After my visit I was well rested and thanked my hosts with a small parting gift from the Jeep – possum plushie that had ridden on the dash across the whole country.

I also went to visit Jesse during this time. She had promised me dinner and she didn’t squelch on this promise in the least bit. I was treated to a delicious feast of salad, chicken, rice, and a dessert to die for, composed of cinnamon French toast topped with melting vanilla ice cream and maple syrup.

Jesse is an opinionated and driven woman with a creative business sense. She was currently running a small farm and selling chicks, chicken-feathered earrings, and dried chicken feet to anyone that wanted them. I passed on the chicks and the feet, though we did purchase some feathered earrings which were well-made from quality materials. She had fun playing Wii into the night. I sort of played too, though I have played Wii only once in my life, and the last video game before that was probably played when I was still in grade school. Suffice to say video games have always been beyond me. I was vibrantly dizzy and nauseous and so tired by the end of the night but that’s alright, I smiled none-the-less.

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

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Farmer’s Market – Philadelphia PA

From the Rodin Museum we walked back to the subway and found ourselves at the Farmer’s Market. Oh it was lovely! I wish there were a Farmer’s Market that big back home… there was fresh everything… fresh fruits and veggies, fresh baked goods, a very expensive chocolate place with chocolate rats and anatomically correct hearts, and we even stopped to get a freshly made fruit smoothie which was really good. The only disappointment was the fact their Dutch Dinner Corner (or whatever it was called) wasn’t in any way actually Dutch, just as well they were closed.

I parted with Katherine after this. She gave me instructions how to take the subway back to the car and I gave her a sculpture of a bat, her favorite animal, I had made for her shortly before I left. I felt I should offer a gift as she was so helpful in taking us around and showing us the neat little nooks of Philly.

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Rodin Museum – Philadelphia PA

Katherine had told us about the Rodin Museum. I asked who Rodin was, she told me he was the guy who made The Thinker. Curious I said that would be a good place to go so we walked down there. It was a museum whose admittance was a suggested donation of $5. The front yard was all under construction so it was behind fences but the new pool and the garden surrounding looked like it’d someday be beautiful.

We walked up the big marble steps and looked with a sort of morbid awe at the Gates of Hell. Literally, we were standing in front of them, or at least Rodin’s idea of what Hell might be like… there were people clawing to get out, babies trying to scratch and crawl their way out of limbo towards the bottom sides. Well how can you not go in with a tease like that?? We entered… Whew! I didn’t know anything about Rodin but suddenly felt I knew everything I had to know… this guy must have been pretty off in the head. The vast majority of the figures were in agonizing distress with titles like “Martyr” and “despair.” Women, obviously, were pictured in the usual backwards religious way as being the devilish temptresses of men… but I shrugged that off as some of the hands sculptures were simply amazing.

Even Katherine hadn’t been here before and I think it was a pretty neat little place. I would definitely suggest it to anyone who has any interest whatsoever in art or psychology or even the human figure. I wish I knew who some of the busts were but I just didn’t. No real explanation either. That’s alright though, I can look them up if I really want to.

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Pat’s & Gino’s – Philadelphia PA

Since I was in PA I was given the option to eat the most famous food of Philly, the cheese steak. Now I have a sharp aversion to beef… it smells bad and has a horrible texture but I couldn’t really say no to this new experience. Katherine brought us to Pat’s, one of the two places most known for cheese steaks in the city, the other place is directly across the street, Ginos I think it was called…

“Why are you so set on Pat’s?” I asked Katherine.
“Because the people who run Gino’s are racist xenophobic douche bags who have posters reading, ‘Welcome to America! Now learn English.’ They just don’t get it. Plus Pat’s are the originals.” I laughed at this sudden outburst and agreed. Funny enough Pat’s looks like a very average side-of-the-road food stop whereas their competitors, literally close enough to throw a rock at, were glitzed out like no one’s business. They looked shiny and new, brightly colored like a damn peacock. “COME SEE ME!! OVER HERE!” I could see why Katherine objected so strongly… they looked a bit on the obnoxious side…

But anyways, I ate a “cheese steak, without, American.” [regular cheese steak, no onions, American cheese.] I also ordered cheese fries and a drink as I was dying of thirst. In any event the cheese steak itself wasn’t bad. It didn’t taste like cow, nor did it have a particularly grisly or detestable texture. I don’t know if I was just starving or if I’d just stumbled upon an ill-kept secret but it was actually good!

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The Italian Market – Philadelphia PA

Katherine and I walked down a little ethnic street market near Pat’s after this. They were selling everything here from cheap dollar store crap to live pigeons and fruit I’ve never seen in my life (sadly unlabeled, though I think one was a pawpaw.) The most bizarre part of this was all the street signs advertising various meats… instead of reading “fresh pork” they had cartoonish paintings of pigs wielding meat cleavers or smiling. There was something slightly off with that… I only found one sign with three melancholy animals sadly looking downwards. One looked suspiciously like a poodle though I guess it was supposed to be a sheep.

It was a nice walk with interesting people, different things to pick at. There was even a place selling old vinyls for a buck a piece. Neither of us felt like carrying anything so we merely poked at them a bit. It was a good way to get rid of our cheese steaks too. By the time we were done walking our little lunch was riding safely in our bellies.

We walked a little bit from here to reach the subway which we were on and off of all day. Somewhere along the route we ran into a woman walking a dog that I swear was a cross between a pit bull and a Jack Russell. Ugliest little thing I have ever seen! But he seemed well behaved. The people on the other hand… most were friendly and docile but there was one guy yelling at his little 3-4ish year old son for crying. “If you keep crying you’re going to bed!” Kid was crying about his leg hurting, he just wanted to be picked up for Christ’s sake, you’re right in front of your place of residence, just pick the damn thing up! I’m bad with kids but even I knew this one… small children make for crappy walking companions, expect to have to carry them. I suppose bad parenting is everywhere. Got into a discussion about how people who would be good parents never seem to be able to have children or don’t want any. I know I sure don’t want any, especially after going to the Mutter Museum and seeing what happens with other little bundles of joy who happen to be genetic fuck-ups. I know my family’s genetics are completely wonky, why tempt Murphy?

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Mutter Museum – Philadelphia PA

I had a friend living in Pennsylvania who offered to show me around Philadelphia so I took her up on the offer. I got up early and drove to Philly where I found her text messaging me in front of the station. Traffic forced me away from her before I could yell out the window and I spent the next three rounds circling the block to regain contact. She jumped in and I set off to find parking, which was really easy.

Katherine had planned a visit to the Mutter Museum, which is a museum of biological oddities, originally intended to educate physicians-to-be. It’s not real obvious from the side walk but Katherine had been there before. We walked in, paid our admission, put on our little visitor tags and continued on. I had wanted to visit the Mutter Museum since I was 11 or 12 and saw a segment on TV about it. Here you could see a plaster death cast of the first famous Siamese twins, Chang and Ang (I’m hoping I remembered that right.) Also was their pickled uni-liver. Other things I had already known about was a ginormous bowel from someone who literally died of constipation, the skeleton of a giant and a dwarf, and a bunch of drawers full of things surgically removed from people who had swallowed them. Who knew safety pins and campaign buttons were that tasty! It said most specimens were extracted from people under fifteen years of age. Well let’s hope so! I can’t imagine at sixteen little Johnny’s friends are egging him on to eat big sweater buttons.

The museum was full of other things that were just as fascinating. There were skeletons of Siamese twins, all babies, the rib cage of a woman who warped her bones wearing a corset, many pickled babies with birth deformities. There were spines bent and fused at odd angles from people with kyphosis. That scared the hell out of me, having the condition myself I hope I don’t end up that way!

There were castings of things that could happen to your eyes… gruesome things… like a splinter to the eye, cancerous growths, extreme conjunctivitis. Even more horrifying was a collection of antiquated gynecological tools that would send any sane woman screaming for the hills and what I can only describe as a baby scooping spoon. They also had surgical tools, embalming tools, and a brain slicer, which looked disturbingly similar to a bagel slicer. One poor man had a cast done of his face with a weird horn-like growth jutting out of it. There was a skeleton of some poor teenager whose muscles and ligaments turned to bone and fused him in this horribly awkward position. Then there was the case full of skulls. I’m not sure what the intent of the display was but each skull had its ethnicity and manner of death labeled. We were horrified to find a thirteen year old who had committed suicide “after a discovered theft.” What kind of theft would warrant that reaction?! The wording to many of these were trite and outdated and in some ways even comical. One read, “Hydrocephalic imbecile.” Another read something like, “Attempted suicide, lived for 15 more years but was never cured of melancholy.” My favorite was, “At 70 attempted suicide, died 10 years later at age 80.” I wondered why attempt suicide at 70? Hell, he’d been lucky to live that long in the first place…. Still the bone structure was different depending on age and to some degree ethnicity. There weren’t many women, there were a lot of suicides, one murder, several executed prisoners, really the people whose bodies were not cared for after death during the time.

I saw just how much the human body can put up with… bones broken and fused in awkward ways, a ninety pound ovarian tumor, bottles of tape worms, a skull and a femur suffering bullet wounds and the most shocking of all were the syphilitic skulls, one didn’t even have a face anymore, it was completely eaten away. How anyone could have lived that long with such a horrific condition I don’t know. At the end was a special exhibit, a soap mummy and a bunch of presidential stuff… including a presidential tumor! And a piece of John Wilkes Booth. Just a bit yucky…

Then there was an art exhibit… I mean how could you top the fetal dance macbres that were already in the display cases out with the actual human specimens? Well! There was a great deal for abstract art using wigs and old medical supplies and hypodermics… there was also a comic, in a brilliant pink, describing in vivid detail human menstruation. I couldn’t read it… quite frankly I don’t want to know my own cycles in quite so much detail… This was the entrance to the gift shop, which was a hoot. It was tiny but hilarious, a book case flaunting titles like, “1001 Ways You Can Die.” There were more poster, pens that looked like hypodermics, two-headed gingerbread men cookie cutters, and a bin full of germ-inspired plushies. A magnet found it’s way home with me, how could I not get a souvenir?

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