Our Philadelphia Experience

So Doug and I drove down to Philadelphia on Saturday to attend a surprise 25th wedding anniversary for one of Doug's childhood friends. Everyone who had been a guest at the wedding was invited, which I thought was a wonderful concept and while our friends suspected something was going on, they were surprised to see the whole crew there. It was a wonderful party and even though I only knew a handful of people, I had a GREAT time. My party social skills have been on a decline in the past several years so it was lovely to really enjoy myself this time.

After the party we drove to our hotel in Center City and even though it was perilously close to our usual bedtime, we were both anxious to go out and walk around our old neighborhood.

(Just to recap if you are new here, or if you have not committed my background to memory: I moved to Philly, from Minneapolis, in January 1985 to attend PCA, now UArts, and lived in a variety of places in Center City, a loft in North Kensington which was a bit dangerous for a single gal what with the constant gunshots and all, then I lived in a really yucky apartment in South Philly at 8th&McKean when I met Doug. Doug grew up in Broomall, a Philly suburb, attended Tyler 1976-1980 or so, lived at 13th and Walnut 1984-1986, then moved up to a studio on North Delaware Avenue which is where he lived when we met. We had a place together on Fairmont Avenue, then moved to Milford Connecticut in 1991. Phew!)

The first thing I learned on our walk is that the building at 15th&Spruce where I had a beautiful studio apartment on the 14th floor is gone, replaced by the Kimmel Center. I knew about the Kimmel Center but didn't realize that it was right THERE. Sigh. But McGlinchey's, one of my favorite dive bars just a few doors down was still there and we decided to go on in. It was like walking into a time machine (except I did NOT get carded this time;)), absolutely nothing was different, including the bartender, Fred. I didn't know I remembered his name until I saw him and his name just naturally came to mind. Old habits.....

Anyway, Doug and I hung around awkwardly for a few minutes, then started to talk with the guy at the door. I decided to chat with Fred and even though he didn't remember me (I think I am glad about that, it means I did not do anything there that someone might remember for more than a few years at least!) he was very sweet and chatty and it was great to talk to him. He seemed glad to know that I had moved on from the bar scene and that I have a family and good life. Anyway, it was very surreal to be in that bar again, many events occurred there for the few years I was a regular; I made friends and lost them, had a few torturous romances, drank too much. I recall watching the 1988 Winter AND Summer Olympics there and cheering for Debi Thomas, Gordeeva and Grinkov, and winced when Greg Louganis hit his head on the springboard, but still went on to win the gold medal. Doug and I spent our first New Year's Eve there together (even though he hated bars). The beer there was cheap back then, 50 cents on tap and there was a lot of Tom Waits music on the jukebox. Perfect. Well it was back then anyway, last Saturday, I felt uncomfortable there and so we moved on. These reviews give a pretty accurate picture of McGlinchey's. Some people might be a bit too uptight to enjoy this particular dive bar;)

It was wonderful to see my old school, which has taken over much of the area and I have a lot of great memories of late nights in the studios, rushing to an early class loaded down with art supplies and books. Sitting in the small park (which is now gone) between classes, grabbing something to eat at the health food store on the corner (which is now a Starbucks) and going for a swim at the Jewish Y (which is now a UArts building). Sigh again.

And then onto my other dive bar, Dirty Frank's:
Dirty Frank's has been at 13th&Pine forever and everyone that I have ever met who went to UArts also spent more than a few evenings there. Even though the beer cost a bit more (always an issue for a college student) I actually liked Dirty Frank's much more than McGlinchey's. They were open on Sunday nights and also on the holidays and I spent more than a few Thankgivings, Christmas Eves and New Years there for several years. It was the perfect place to cry in your beer from loneliness, then turn to the person next to you and have some fascinating, or really stupid conversation to pull you out of it. I also spent a lot of time there with my friends from school, it was a good place to go after a long day of classes and a night of painting in the studio. Anyway, it was basically the same as 20 years ago, but instead of the boarded up look that I remember, there are murals of Franks on the exterior. Inside it seemed a lot more cluttered, tons of cut paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling, faded Mummer's parasols over the bar. The old wood booths are the same (now I wish I had carved my name in one when I had the chance) as well as the bench covered in chipped linoleum by the door. A lot of art hanging on the walls and I am just going to assume that the bathrooms are still as disgusting as they used to be on a Saturday night. I tried to find out but the ladies room was occupied for a disturbingly long time. Heh. Doug and I decided to sit at the bar and I am quite sure that a. the barstools are the exact same ones that were there 20 years ago and b. the guy sitting on the other side of Doug was also a regular in the 80's. I hope he was just back for a visit like me, but somehow I don't think he was.

And to top it all off, the same bartender from 1987 was still on duty. We started chatting and she didn't remember me either. Safe again!

Funny thing about sitting at Dirty Frank's though. I felt VERY comfortable. Kinda like I was back at home. Maybe I should feel sad about that but I don't really. It was like a home to me at a time when I was really lonely and troubled and even though I did a lot of stupid things in those days, I could always go and sit at Dirty Franks and feel more at ease than I ever did in my childhood home. That seemed pathetic at the time, but I don't feel that way about it at all anymore. Plus, there was something very satisfying about getting all teary eyed, while Peggy Lee asked "Is That All There Is?" I had a melodramatic streak back then, hehe.

So after Doug finished his beer and I drank my ice water (did learn a few lessons from the old days at least, I don't drink alcohol anymore!) we went on to look at the building where his father's graphic design studio was for many years, which was coincidentally right behind one of the apartments that I lived in. Then we went to look at his old place on Walnut Street.

It was great to walk around the streets at night without worrying about anything, as it used to be a bit hairy, lots of shadowy types, hookers and cars slowly cruising by. Now the streets are crowded with people, lots of restaurants with tables out on the sidewalks, a really great atmosphere! I did get a shout out from a creepy guy in a car driving by which was a real blast from the past. I used to get hassled quite a bit like that when I lived there (I think it was the red hair) and always hated it. This time Doug and I had a good laugh and frankly at age 44, it was almost gratifying. Heh.

Back to our fabulous hotel room near Rittenhouse Square which made me seriously consider putting all my belongings in storage so that I could move in there and had a great night's sleep.

The next morning we drove around to see the other places we lived. We sat in the car out front of the building where Doug lived and worked when we met and reminisced. That area looked EXACTLY the same, down to the sauerkraut factory across the street:

We drove down to South Philly to look at my old apartment:
I lived in the 2nd floor apartment and there were NO flowers climbing up the front when I lived there. The neighborhood looks a bit better now, it was getting pretty bad when I moved away. The old Italian guys that hung out at the store on the corner (a photo of Mussolini hung prominently on the wall just inside the door) and pestered me about working at a "Jew" owned business while I waited for the bus are long gone. But the building still has an Italian theme:
and it still looks like some sort of hangout.....

So all in all it was a very memorable trip down memory lane. On the drive home, we daydreamed about moving back into Center City when the kids are grown, but all that disappeared when we drove up the beautiful, quiet country to our house. So happy to be where we are now.

PS. But we might visit Philly a bit more often. We still have friends there! And there is a museum! And art galleries! And lots of restaurants! And Zoe Strauss!

How We Met

Doug and I in 1990. He is holding the camera and looks more jowly than he actually was.

In September of 1988 I was coming off a very bad summer. I had spent far too much time mooching beer from my friends at the bars in Center City, often walking home at 2am because I didn't have a dollar and change for the subway. I was incredibly poor, even losing weight because I didn't have money for food. I couldn't find a decent job and only managed to get through the summer by borrowing $800 from my great Aunt Esther, (a true low point for me, borrowing money from her) who was very disappointed in me because I hadn't actually gotten my degree. I lived in a really dark and depressing upstairs apartment in a rowhouse in South Philly and it was maybe the hottest, most humid summer ever.

Finally in September I called about a listing posted on the college job boards. It was a temporary job doing assembly at a small holographic company on North Delaware Avenue. I worked there for about 2 weeks, along side a guy named Mike (his favorite band was Toto and he had the best mullet ever) assembling holographic calculators that were to be shipped off to The Sharper Image catalog. A guy named Paul supervised us and there were two other guys, Mike and Bob who were partners in the company. Mike handled sales and marketing and Bob did the graphics. They were all very nice and a lot of fun to work with and I really enjoyed the atmosphere. During the few weeks I was there I kept hearing about Doug, who was out in Utah but I never did meet him while I did the assembly work. About a week or so after that job ended, I got a call from Paul who said that they were looking for a secretary, a permanent position, and wondered if I could come in and talk to the owner, Doug. I was pretty sure that I would be a terrible secretary and that that kind of job was totally beneath me, but I also was desperate for some income and so I said yes.

Holographic Design was located in a beautiful loft space in a converted warehouse space. Across from the building was a sauerkraut factory that emitted the most disgusting smells in the summer. Open vats of sauerkraut we often sitting on the street in front of the door to the loft and oh my god, the flies! Neither of us can eat sauerkraut to this day. When I went in for the interview I recall walking up the steps to the reception desk, idly wondering if he might be someone that I might like (as in like, like), where Doug was talking on the phone. However when I saw him he didn't seem my type, as I usually preferred guys who were jerks, and I could tell right away that he was nice. He seemed too old (um, 31, practically ancient, heh) and maybe kind of square. So I forgot about all of that silliness and we talked for awhile. He asked me if I could start the next day and I said ok. Later on he said he felt like there was something going on between us during the interview and that he was flirting with me. I have since learned that he is terrible at flirting, which makes it all the more cute when he tries it.

Anyway, I started to work there and I really enjoyed it. Turns out I was pretty good at answering the phones and handling customers and I learned to use their newfangled Mac Classic computer. And within a few days I realized that I really liked Doug, that he was totally my type and that he was the guy for me. I didn't know much about his personal life, other than that he lived upstairs from the office and that he seemed to work all of the time. One of his partners was married and the other was getting married, so I just assumed that Doug must have a girlfriend or something and I recall that I didn't want to know, because I would be devastated to have to keep working there and see him getting married. I remember sitting at the bar at McGlinchey's one night, pouring out my sob story to a friend of mine, that I was in love with my boss and surely he has a girlfriend, waaaaaa. But I got the real scoop soon enough. I was invited to go out for drinks with everyone after work on Doug's birthday, October 10, which was about 2 weeks after I began working there. We all went to the bar at Society Hill Hotel and during the course of the evening I found out that he was unattached. My crush spiraled out of control! Doug went off to have dinner with his father and I went home feeling incredibly giddy. On that evening I had picked up a few vibes from him and anything seemed possible.

Over the next few weeks we hung out a bit after work, often along with some of his friends, and it was all very casual. I showed him my work and he seemed very impressed, and I learned that he had a BFA in Photography and sculpture from Tyler, so I was impressed. I guess I knew he was interested in me but I wasn't really sure until we went to a Halloween party at the photographer's loft next door. It was a costume party and everybody was fabulously dressed, but I did not wear a costume, other than my usual all black of course. Doug felt he had to dress up somehow, he was wearing a red shirt and a brown tweed coat and then he strapped a big round Fresnel lens to his face, which made his face look HUGE. He looked like a complete idiot! At one point during the evening he put his arm around me, bumped my head with the lens and that was it. I finally knew for sure that he liked liked me.

As we began to get closer we kept it quiet. None of my friends, including Cecily, thought Doug and I were right for each other. And eventually his partners found out about our relationship. That went ok at first, I don't think anyone thought it would last and it was excellent office gossip fodder, but after awhile things got a bit difficult and Doug's friend/lawyer began to give him grief about what a bad idea it was to date an employee. I didn't handle the situation very well with his partners either (I was only 23, and very stupid!) and was much less sensitive than I could have been. In 1990 or so, Doug decided to partner up with another group, which involved a move to Connecticut. Mike and Bob didn't want to relocate so they left the company and found work elsewhere. Doug asked me to go along with him and I joined him there after a few months. We rented a big, old beautiful house in Milford, CT and in 1993, five years after we met, we got married in the living room of that house by a justice of the peace. There have been a few bumps and a near divorce, but mostly our years together have been blissfully happy, despite our scandalous beginning!

I love you Doug, happy birthday, oh and thanks for hiring me for the secretary job, starting salary 10,000.

A Year and a Half in Minneapolis

Long Field With Tree, 2007, Oil on Panel, 9x18

While glancing through my stats today, I noticed that someone had linked to my blog via Studio McCann. Not familiar with that site I went to check it out. Turns out the artist is Shawn McCann, who lives and works in the Minneapolis area. He also attended the Minneapolis College of Art and Design, which is where I went to school for a year and a half back in 1983-84. He looks younger than me though, so I don't think we were there at the same time.

So this morning I have been awash in memories of my time at MCAD and of living in Minneapolis. I moved into an off campus apartment there within a month or so of my high school graduation and just spent the summer hanging out, looking for a job, and waiting for classes to begin. As I recall, I had about $20 a month for food, and I was always in debt, typical art student! I worked for awhile as a cashier at the nearby Kmart, and that totally sucked in every way possible right down to the blue smock I had to wear. When school started I began work study and I was assigned to the school library. I liked this job. While incredibly boring sometimes, it was great to have access to such beautiful books about artists, many of whom I had never heard of. The other students began to move into the dorms and I spent that fall drinking way too much at the endless parties on campus (this was the old days when the school actually paid for the kegs for our parties), making new and very interesting friends, and learning about art. I had woodshop class, metal working (I still have a little scar on my stomach where I burned through my clothing while trying to weld), color theory, figure drawing and a variety of other basic freshman art classes, all of which really opened my eyes to so many things I hadn't known or seen before. Not to mention the classic college all-nighters!

When it came time to choose a major for the second year, I had a tough time. I wanted to paint, but didn't really feel like the painting program there was right for me. I thought illustration would be good, but there was no official program for that (I think there is now) although the graphic design program offered illustration classes. So I reluctantly majored in graphic design. I kind of liked it, we did tons of typeface studies, by hand, no computers for that in 1984! I did take a class in computers but it was how to create programs, which I totally didn't understand and I think I actually got an F in that class. But most of the instructors were cool and I really appreciate the experiences I had in graphics, which have been useful over the years.

There were many visiting artists, but the two I remember most were Vito Acconci and Alan Ginsburg. Vito Acconci gave a lecture in my freshman year. There was a boy I had been seeing, but we had broken up and were trying to be friends. We were sitting next to each other during Acconci's lecture and all he talked about was sex, complete with, you know, sounds. I still remember how embarrassed my friend and I both were! I would have liked to have talked to Alan Ginsburg as he spent a lot of time in the common areas talking to small groups of students, but I was never able to get in (story of my life!).

There were a lot of intense relationships with other students, both good and bad. I drank too much during my time there and also didn't really know how to handle social issues very well. I messed up things up with a several people and have always regretted that. But I do have wonderful memories of a number of people. Blaine and Susan who dated then and are now married with three children. Lisa, a fellow outcast, who collected more stuff that one can possibly imagine. She ended up using up all of that stuff eventually in her assemblage art, which is really impressive. Tom, my beautiful gay friend who worked as a model part time and had a flair for everything he did, and John who has been a lifelong friend. He moved to Philadelphia a year after I did and we were roommates (platonic) for awhile. We still talk now and then.

I decided to transfer to the Philadelphia School of Art (now UArts) because they had an illustration department that I had heard good things about. Also, I was feeling very uncomfortable about how I had handled the social aspect of my life at MCAD, and as was my habit, leaving seemed to be the best option. It turned out to be a very good move ultimately, but I have always felt badly about some of the things I did when I was 18 and very stupid.

Of course, I went on to do even more stupid things in Philadelphia, which proved that my stupidity wasn't completely age-related. Heh.

My Real Life Friend, Cecily

Road to Fall, 2004, Oil on Panel









I want to extend a big congratulations to my friend Cecily and her husband Charlie on the birth of their baby girl on Wednesday. They went to hell and back, a few times, to have her and I wish all three of them health and happiness.

Cecily and I were good friends for several years when I was a student in Philadelphia back in the 80's. I was out with a friend of mine, Tom Leonard and he started talking to Cecily and her friend and roommate Sara (I think he liked Sara a bit). Anyway the four of us closed the bar down and then went to hang out at their apartment, talking and drinking until the wee hours of the morning. Cecily and I found that we had much in common, including a rootless childhood, an absent father, poverty, weight issues, art (she is a writer), politics and we both had been on our own since the age of seventeen. So we became fast friends and spent much of our time at one (or both in a night) of two dive bars, McGlinchey's, her favorite, or at Dirty Frank's, my favorite. Cecily was opinionated, loud, brassy, fiercely loyal and passionate. She nursed me through a really awful relationship and its aftermath, not to mention a few bad flings as well and she listened patiently to my endless and pathetic rants. She and Sara had bashes at their house that were legendary, full of melodrama, music and dancing. I spent holidays at her house, she always had a houseful of friends and other strays over and we would all cook a big dinner. Once we spent days watching every movie (she had a VCR!) ever made by John Waters. But mostly we spent our time sitting at the bars, drinking. We knew everyone and everyone knew us. We never had to ask for a drink-the bartenders knew what we drank and we always sat in the same few spots at the bar. Yes, it was like Norm and Cliff. So much of our lives unfolded at McGlinchey's (we ended up mostly going there after awhile-a draft beer was only 25 cents and that was great for our 0 dollar budgets). I remember watching the 1988 Olympics there, a friend contracted AIDS and later died, others came and went. We had endless loud and obnoxious debates with other stupid drunk people. We were there on Thanksgiving night, and New Years Eve. We met a group of five or six Navy guys who we hung out with and we both had an infatuation with one or more of them alternately, for months. Sometimes all of these memories are wonderful to me, I loved having such a close friend, who I could trust and who cared about me. On the other hand, it's painful to think about, as I see now how we were both on a slide down in our young lives, down towards alcoholism and self-degradation. We treated ourselves badly, yet thought we were cool and bohemian.

I finished school in the spring of 1988 and spent several months looking for a job and trying to get illustration work. I would have had more success had I not spent every single night that summer at the bars. It was a extraordinarily hot and muggy summer, I had a lousy apartment, no money (I actually lost weight that summer because I didn't have enough money for food), no job and I was so unbearably lonely. It was the lowest point of my life and if it hadn't been for my friendship with Cecily, something to hang on to, things might have ended badly for me that summer. In the fall I happened upon a job and subsequently met my husband. I stopped drinking as much, and while not officially an alcoholic, I WAS thisclose, and I considered myself lucky to be able to just leave that lifestyle. I stopped going out each night, preferring Doug's company to drinking and degradation, and gradually I saw less and less of Cecily. I felt very badly about that and she was angry and resentful towards me, but I knew I had to get away from that scene in order to have a better life. I finally could see that there was something better for me, if I wanted it. Cecily, unfortunately had to go a bit lower, before she was able to turn things around for herself. I won't go into the details, as it's her story to tell, but the last time I saw her she had changed for the worse. Doug and I eventually moved away to Connecticut and I lost contact with Cecily. I managed to pull myself together, be a productive citizen and even have a family.

Around 2001 or so I got an email from Cecily. She had found me through my college's alumni page and I was so happy to hear from her. When she told me what she had happened to her since we last talked, I was so shocked, yet somehow not, by how much she had been through. We had email contact for several years and then about a year ago, Doug and I and the kids visited Philadelphia and Cecily and I had dinner and talked for hours into the night. It was like picking up where we had left off in the bar one night. Except without the beer and vomit. She was the same in so many ways, but had turned into a more compassionate, thoughtful and more insightful version of her younger self. I felt proud of her and was impressed about what she had accomplished personally and professionally.

But Cecily's struggles weren't over. She and Charlie have recently faced infertility, and the death of their twins and she has handled it all with guts and grace, which you will see if you read her blog. Her humor, humility and sheer determination have been an inspiration to so many people and she has thousands of loyal readers, all of whom are so thrilled that her baby has arrived safely, though not without a bit of drama. And I am so happy too, that my friend, who helped me through a bad time, even as she was in trouble, has the baby that she and Charlie have dreamed of for so long. They will be great parents and so appreciative of every moment.

Even if she does still curse like the sailors we used to know :-)