PHILLY CHEESTEAKS
OK, so I always say I’m a Philly native. And that’s 99% true. The naked, unabashed (is “unabashed” a word?…and if it is a word – what does it mean?) truth is that I grew up about 12 miles north of the city – which means in reality I’m from the mean streets of Suburbia and furthermore it means I’m not a real “gangster”. I can only hope you’ll still love me. And while I’m being honest – let me tell you that although I have told the mass crowds that I’m black … I’m really white. (In heaven - I hope I’ll be black).
Now that that’s behind us – let me get to my weekend in the City of Brotherly Love. What a killer 4 days! It all started with in Yardley, PA (somewhere outside of Philly) with a youth conference at St. Ignatius Church. The retreat was very intimate and very intense - focusing on the cross. It was great to spend 2 days focusing on the mystery of the cross. Friday night, somehow, my arm got infected (weird, I know) and started swelling. As you know my arms are ALREADY really big with all my various large muscles and so with the extra swelling – my right arm looked a nasty sweet potato. Long story short – Jared (The Critic) took me to the E.R. and I got an I.V. with antibiotics and I guess that helped (my arm still looks like a sweet potato). A few hours later – we had a bumpin concert with an impressive freestyle battle highlighted by Chris Padget. Minus the fact that it sounded like our mics were plugged into a garbage disposal instead of speakers – the show was great.
Sunday – after The Critic bailed on me and hurled on me Saturday night (no joke – he was puking the rest of the weekend) – Me and Fiddy Bones (AKA my lil bro Ben) headed to Manmouth Junction, NJ. This show was beautiful chaos. The entire state of New Jersey by its very nature is “ghetto”. It’s like THE ghetto of the North American continent. It’ s a tiny, weird, state filled with loud in your face punks with wacky accents. …And I like it. For the most part New Jersians know all this and they are proud of it (except for your occasional dude who will try and convince you the Jersey isn’t weird but beautiful – I’m not sure how they define “beauty” – but one thing is for sure the people at St. Cecilia’s Church were beautiful!) These peeps had mad skills – they could dance like Usher, rap like Jay Z (at least Mike could), and get a place bumpin like it was their job. Thanks for the love NJ.
Lastly – the highlight of my little 215 tour – North Philly. We were blessed with the privilege to do a free show in the inner city (right down thur on West Lehigh) at St. Martin de Porres School. If I could do a show like this everyday I would do it. - So moving. It doesn’t get any more inner city than St. Martin de Porres. This parish represents 8 inner city parishes on Philly’s north side that were closed down in the last few years and consolidated into one. And Even with the consolidation – their total weekly mass attendance is 250. One could make the conclusion that inner city people must not go to church OR we are not doing enough to reach the urban Catholic Church. I believe the latter is true. We are losing multitudes of people in the urban Church because we fail speak their language. Though this all-black catholic school clearly embraces the culture of it’s students as evident by the art and atmosphere inside the school, -- they had never before used rap to reach the kids (not because they were against it but because has been available to them.) Now, allow me to make this disclaimer as I’m telling you how cool this concert was – I do not think I’m the urban savior of the Church. I’m just a white kid who loves urban culture, hip-hop, and Jesus (and my dancing skills rival Napoleon Dynamite). So… the school was beautiful, built in the 1920’s, with this amazing theater (where we did the show). It looked like a small version of the Apollo Theater and even though it was in shambles with old busted up chandeliers and exposed brick – it had such a soulful, rich vibe. The kids were amazing –spitting out every chorus I fed them the enthusiasm of wild turkeys. The highlight was definitely the freestyle contest in which – three 14-year-old emcees tore me to shreds. Even the nuns and teachers where bobbin heads. It was beautiful memory in my life that I will treasure for years to come.
And to ice the friggin cake – after the show we drove down to South Philly for 2 of the best cheese steaks you can ever have – Pat’s and Genos (located across the street from each other and interesting side note – they Hate each other with a passion). After consuming a luscious Pat’s steak, I was still hungry and decided to head on over to Genos for another. However I made one fatal mistake – I brought my cup that I bought at Pat’s to Genos. Well…while I was still 20 yards away the owner (Joey Vento – a 50ish, heavily tattooed man of about 140 pounds) leaned his head out of the window and yelled to me “Get the F#$@ off my property you piece of S**t A##*@*#@” But hey could you blame the guy - my cup obviously insulted him and he was just “keeping it real”. Man I love the city of Brotherly Love. Philly… my heart is thine.
Now that that’s behind us – let me get to my weekend in the City of Brotherly Love. What a killer 4 days! It all started with in Yardley, PA (somewhere outside of Philly) with a youth conference at St. Ignatius Church. The retreat was very intimate and very intense - focusing on the cross. It was great to spend 2 days focusing on the mystery of the cross. Friday night, somehow, my arm got infected (weird, I know) and started swelling. As you know my arms are ALREADY really big with all my various large muscles and so with the extra swelling – my right arm looked a nasty sweet potato. Long story short – Jared (The Critic) took me to the E.R. and I got an I.V. with antibiotics and I guess that helped (my arm still looks like a sweet potato). A few hours later – we had a bumpin concert with an impressive freestyle battle highlighted by Chris Padget. Minus the fact that it sounded like our mics were plugged into a garbage disposal instead of speakers – the show was great.
Sunday – after The Critic bailed on me and hurled on me Saturday night (no joke – he was puking the rest of the weekend) – Me and Fiddy Bones (AKA my lil bro Ben) headed to Manmouth Junction, NJ. This show was beautiful chaos. The entire state of New Jersey by its very nature is “ghetto”. It’s like THE ghetto of the North American continent. It’ s a tiny, weird, state filled with loud in your face punks with wacky accents. …And I like it. For the most part New Jersians know all this and they are proud of it (except for your occasional dude who will try and convince you the Jersey isn’t weird but beautiful – I’m not sure how they define “beauty” – but one thing is for sure the people at St. Cecilia’s Church were beautiful!) These peeps had mad skills – they could dance like Usher, rap like Jay Z (at least Mike could), and get a place bumpin like it was their job. Thanks for the love NJ.
Lastly – the highlight of my little 215 tour – North Philly. We were blessed with the privilege to do a free show in the inner city (right down thur on West Lehigh) at St. Martin de Porres School. If I could do a show like this everyday I would do it. - So moving. It doesn’t get any more inner city than St. Martin de Porres. This parish represents 8 inner city parishes on Philly’s north side that were closed down in the last few years and consolidated into one. And Even with the consolidation – their total weekly mass attendance is 250. One could make the conclusion that inner city people must not go to church OR we are not doing enough to reach the urban Catholic Church. I believe the latter is true. We are losing multitudes of people in the urban Church because we fail speak their language. Though this all-black catholic school clearly embraces the culture of it’s students as evident by the art and atmosphere inside the school, -- they had never before used rap to reach the kids (not because they were against it but because has been available to them.) Now, allow me to make this disclaimer as I’m telling you how cool this concert was – I do not think I’m the urban savior of the Church. I’m just a white kid who loves urban culture, hip-hop, and Jesus (and my dancing skills rival Napoleon Dynamite). So… the school was beautiful, built in the 1920’s, with this amazing theater (where we did the show). It looked like a small version of the Apollo Theater and even though it was in shambles with old busted up chandeliers and exposed brick – it had such a soulful, rich vibe. The kids were amazing –spitting out every chorus I fed them the enthusiasm of wild turkeys. The highlight was definitely the freestyle contest in which – three 14-year-old emcees tore me to shreds. Even the nuns and teachers where bobbin heads. It was beautiful memory in my life that I will treasure for years to come.
And to ice the friggin cake – after the show we drove down to South Philly for 2 of the best cheese steaks you can ever have – Pat’s and Genos (located across the street from each other and interesting side note – they Hate each other with a passion). After consuming a luscious Pat’s steak, I was still hungry and decided to head on over to Genos for another. However I made one fatal mistake – I brought my cup that I bought at Pat’s to Genos. Well…while I was still 20 yards away the owner (Joey Vento – a 50ish, heavily tattooed man of about 140 pounds) leaned his head out of the window and yelled to me “Get the F#$@ off my property you piece of S**t A##*@*#@” But hey could you blame the guy - my cup obviously insulted him and he was just “keeping it real”. Man I love the city of Brotherly Love. Philly… my heart is thine.
posted by Righteous B at 8:19 PM
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