The Franklin Institute

Maybe it’s because most of us first visit in fourth grade, when we’re just awakening to the wonders of the opposite sex, and whom Jill or Bruce sits with on the bus ride over is suddenly of vital interest. And then we arrive, giddy from the fact that we’re playing hooky, and wander through the giant heart in the semi-dark, giggling and nervous, following close behind Bruce or Jill while the thump-thump, thump-thump resounds in our ears and chests, and what’s meant to be a science exhibit somehow becomes erotically charged, so that love and longing and this heart and our hearts (thump-thump! Thump-thump!) are forever entangled, leaving generations of Philadelphians with a misty nostalgia for an oversize fiberglass organ.