Yesterday, I had the misfortune to fly into Philadelphia International Airport (*waves at Sebastian*). It has been at least a year, and probably two, since I have been in that particular corner of the world, but a few things stood out to me in the experience.
First, the Philadelphia airport is falling apart. I mean, I can understand some degree of wear and tear – after all, it is an airport, and many thousands of people go through it on a daily basis. However, when your toilets are, quite literally, falling off the wall, there is something wrong with the situation. I wish I had thought to take a picture of it, but suffice to say that it surprised and concerned me enough that the thought of a camera was the last thing on my mind.
Second, Philly is filthy, alliteration aside. No, it is not nearly as bad in the public, well-trod, highly-trafficked areas, as, no doubt, the city officials and workers are trying their best to put a good face on what is turning into a very problematic city. However, in the brushes with the outskirts of the city’s underbelly that riding its trains afforded me, the true depth (in every sense of the word) of decay became apparent. This is not to say that Philly is the worst city or something, just that it is bad.
Third, rowhouses are dreary, drab, depressing, and, in some cases, disturbing. Yeah, they are better than the alternative for some people, but one would think that their residents would have sufficient pride in their abode to at least try and keep it from looking like it is about two months away from dissolving into the ground. I am certainly not asking for a complete remodel/repaint/rewhatever, but a little picking up after themselves would do their residences a world of good.
Fourth, I really do not miss the northeast all that much… In fact, you could almost go so far as to say that I do not miss the eastern seaboard all that much. I have spent enough of my lifetime in those locations already… it is definitely time for someplace else – and, oh, look, I am already there.
We went through the Philly airport on our way to Munich about ten years ago and it was bad even then, and the airport staff were particularly and obviously unimpressive. It wasn’t much better than (or even as good as) the Greyhound terminal in Memphis.
Many years ago I stayed for a while with a buddy/former housemate from Santa Cruz who was living there in a fourth-floor dump. Nope, not impressed by the city whatsoever – or the strange and horrible sound that comes out of a poor girl’s mouth who grew up there, the twisted vowels and tortured clacking consonants. We tried hitting-up on some pretty chicks in a bar one night, but the moment they started talking it was all over.
Trust me, if I can avoid Philadelphia on any future travels (be they by air or ground), I certainly would not mind. Need to be quicker with the camera in the future, though.