Don’t get your hopes up, kids. I have five dollars riding on the bridge re-opening before the end of the year, so surely something is going to delay it.
Good God, this is awesome news! My parents live just a few blocks from here and, since I grew up in New Jersey, the closing of this bridge completely screws any attempt I make at driving around Philly when I venture home because this is really the only way I know how to get anywhere in that town. You wouldn’t believe how lost I got when I tried to drive over it on my way to the racetrack last Christmas only to be reminded that motherfucker was C-L-O-S-E-D!
Seriously. I don’t think I made it even 10 blocks from my parents’ place but I had no idea what I was doing.
It’s embarrassing how inept I am when it comes to vehicularly navigating The City of Brotherly Love*. My parents grew up in Philly, got pregnant with me, moved to the Jersey ‘burbs, packed me off to Emerson “College,” and moved back to Philly. And while I suppose that this move was engineered in order to protect me from some faint and ill-perceived dangers of the city at large, it certainly led to a tedious, boring, and painfully milquetoast childhood. And to not knowing how to drive around Philly. Which kind of sucks. Cause my little brother really knows how to get around and that’s totally embarrassing!
He also — most likely — had a lot more fun in high school.
*Did you know that’s what Philadelphia literally translates to in Latin? The City of Brotherly Love! Don’t even try to tell me that’s not the best name for a city! “We’ll call it ‘New York!’ Ya know, after ‘York!’ Cause ‘York” is such an awesome name for a city to begin with!” C’mon. Get the hell out of here with that! Gimme some good ol’ fashion, pre-Vatican II Latin!
What’s a milquetoast?
