I’ve been riding the West Trenton line to and from work for six years. That’s roughly 3,120 trips, or, as I’ve come to realize, 3,120 chances for me to leave something behind on the train. Miraculously, it wasn’t until my 3,090th trip that I actually did.
So, you need that coffee table from Ikea assembled? Hot soup delivered to your sick brother? The next cubicle wrapped in cling wrap on April Fool’s day? Someone to pick up a cake? You’re in luck: TaskRabbit has come to Philadelphia.
The company’s tag line: “Get just about anything done by safe, reliable, awesome people.” The company screens its “rabbits,” which makes it safer (and a lot less creepy) than Craigslist.
Our old friends at Zillow have released a list of the country’s top Trick-or-Treating cities. Philadelphia comes it at #9 (S.F. is number one). Our quibble is not with that designation. We’re sure it’s quite on the money. It’s with the real estate website’s neighborhood breakdown that we take issue.
Montreal is a great city. Philadelphia is a great city. Here, some things that our great city should steal from theirs, based on observations from a long weekend I just spent north of the border.
Carl Goldenberg, who headed the family that made Goldenberg Peanut Chews, has died at age 85.
On this past Thursday at 8:30 a.m., 81-year-old Dr. Walter P. Lomax Jr. passed away. “So what?” you ask. “What’s the big deal?” you ask. “Don’t old men die every day?” you ask.
The big deal, I answer, is that he wasn’t just an old man. The big deal is that he was and is a great man.
Dr. Lomax was a prominent physician, prosperous entrepreneur, and selfless philanthropist. The youngest of four children and a graduate of La Salle University and Hahnemann University Hospital, he opened his first medical office in a row house near his South Philly family home in 1958.
That small-scale clinic expanded over the years to six top-notch medical centers with 22 physicians who provided quality care regardless of income.
I know this fellow from Washington, D.C. No, not the guy who tried to help me dispose of my trash over Labor Day weekend. This one lives in Philly, but was born and raised in our capital city. He definitely marches to the beat of a different drummer: He is one of only two white people I know who live in Strawberry Mansion, a neighborhood he says reminds him of the Washington neighborhood where he grew up. And he wears his DC pride on his sleeve.
Make that his right forearm, which sports a tattoo of the District of Columbia flag.
Photographer Hannah Price had never been catcalled until moving to Philadelphia and was so fascinated by the experience of being harassed that she decided to create a photo essay. “City of Brother Love” is a series of portraits Price took just after they had holla’d at her on the street.