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July 23, 2008

The Mysteries of South Philadelphia

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South Philadelphia is a unique collection of narrow streets, old-world traditions and curse words. Hidden amongst the proud blue-collar glaze of cheese-whiz and Catholicism lies a number of fascinating mysteries, mysteries that have never penetrated the protective border of Washington Avenue.

Until now.

Until one Phillyist* decided to pull back the curtain of intrigue and reveal…The Mysteries of South Philadelphia.

Mystery #1: The Fountain of Youth.
Right around the corner of 12th and Tasker lies the famed Fountain of Youth. Turns out Ponce de Leon was a few thousand miles south of his mark. No matter, the locals have put it to good use. The fountain itself is not discernible to the naked eye, but you will see proof of its existence by the number of 60- and 70-year-old men with jet black hair, where there should NOT be jet black hair!

Mystery #2: The House Where It is Always a Holiday.
In the middle of the 300 block of Federal Street sits an ordinary house that does not follow the temporal rules of our universe. It is here that holidays are celebrated non-stop. This is evidenced by the complex decorations that consistently adorn the house’s façade; Valentine’s Day gives immediate way to St. Patrick’s Day, which immediately turns to Easter which immediately gives way to First Holy Communion Day which turns immediately to Venezuelan Earth Day. Every day is a celebration making this the happiest and ribbonest house in South Philadelphia.

Mystery #3: D.B. Cooper Lives.
The famed bank robber and aerial stuntman D.B. Cooper disappeared 36 years ago leaving behind a bunch of pissed off FBI agents and a modern day folktale. His whereabouts have been unknown and many have presumed him dead near Amboy, Washington. Maybe the Feds should have searched the 1200 block of McKean Street. Still, they would have had to look very hard, because he no longer looks like D.B. Cooper; he looks like an old Irish woman. (The nose is a dead giveaway.) After hours of research, surveillance and drinking Schlitz at Charlie's Saloon I was finally convinced I had my man! I confronted Mr. Cooper with the following question:

“Where's the money D.B.?”

The confused look on her face followed by a string of Irish curses confirmed my suspicions and solved the greatest American mystery since sliced Apple Pie Bread.

Mystery #4: The Alley of Cat Piss.
Tucked two blocks south of Snyder Avenue is a tiny thoroughfare called Winton Street. Between 11th and 12th streets lies an alleyway that continuously smells of cat piss. There are many theories as to why this alley reeks of feline urine, but most believe it is because a bunch of cats are always pissing in it.

Mystery #5: Heaven Is Made of Cheese.
South Philly's Greatest natural monument, apart from Jim Kenney, is The Italian Market —a melange of fresh fish, meat, produce and oil drum fires. Located on 930 S. 9th Street is the famed DiBruno Brothers, purveyor of fine foods, meats and... cheese! To enter the store is to enter a new world, nay a new reality; a reality of silky, stinky, firm, crumbly, tangy, sharp aged milk fat. There is only one prerequisite to enter: you have to die. Literally. All physical processes have to cease, brain activity must be nil. It is a huge sacrifice, but the pay off is a beautiful Epoisses de Bourgogne! As you exit you are resurrected so you may enjoy the bounty. Who says there is no loving God?

Mystery #6: Pat's and Geno's Are Really The Same Place.
Ah who cares, they always get press.

If you know of any other mysteries, please leave them in the Comments.

*Me

Photo by Flickr user pwbaker

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Comments (3) [rss]

D.B. Cooper actually performed his aerobatic thievery off the back door of a Boeing 727 back in November 1971. He has therefore been on the lam 36 years -- not 17.

He is now the dayshift bathroom attendant at a Tel Aviv Starbucks, and spends nights breakdancing for loose sheckels near Tel Aviv's famed Carmel Market.

D.B. is a Capricorn. He enjoys ski-ball, bee-keeping, and listening to Jim Nabors records in his spare time.

 

Ah yes, my math does indeed suck. You know I read that entry numerous times and never questioned the years. Ugh. It has been corrected. Thank you.

PS I hear that Starbucks is closing.

 

I love your posts.

I feel that as a South Philly dweller I should have a mystery to add. But it's too hot to think, so all I could come up with is: my neighbor was selling women's underwear of unknown provenance out of the back of his van on 10th Street for a while, but L&I shut him down. I never got close enough to see if they were new or used.

 
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