A thoracic anatomy refresher (Drawing by Patrick Lynch, Medical Illustrator)

As regular Boomeresque readers may have divined by now (even the ones to whom I’m not related), my husband, Steve, is a pulmonologist lung doctor. Searching your brain vault for 7th grade biology factoids, you probably remember that the lungs are in the thorax. Therefore, the national professional association for people who have something to do with lungs (other than just having them) is aptly named the American Thoracic Society (ATS). This has a kinder, gentler ring to it than the “American Sanatorium Association”, its moniker from 1905 to 1939, when a good number of their patients were sent away to tuberculosis sanatoriums sanatoria in hopes that some rest and fresh air might cure them. And, even if that didn’t work, at least they weren’t coughing on the general population — thank you very much.

Steve is actually a physician-scientist. (Do not believe anyone who tells you that there’s no such thing!) He runs a research laboratory at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine which has provided advanced training to students, scientists and physician-scientists from the United States and around the world. Steve is as Boomeresque as I am, so this has been happening for quite a few years. At this point, he has ties to a veritable United Nations of lung research peeps.

I first met Steve in 1971 when I was 17 and we were both assigned to sort the clean silverware at our college cafeteria for our work/study jobs. (Definitely preferable to sorting dirty silverware). Who would have thought that:

• we would marry each other 11 years later,
• that he would become a physician-scientist; and,
• that I would become a recovering lawyer travel blogger (a what???).

I met Steve at Williams College, but they tore down Baxter Hall where we met sorting silverware.

Seriously, in 1971, you could find a calculator at Williams College, but it was bolted to a desk in the college science center. AOL wouldn’t be telling us we had “mail” until 1985. I could not have imagined that my wanderlust would some day be abetted by Steve’s career. (I don’t even think just plain old lust was in the air — not at 7:00 a.m. in the college cafeteria kitchen — not yet, anyway).

Thanks to Steve’s work as a pulmonary research-scientist, I get to be a “trailing spouse” on his world travels and thanks to the American Thoracic Society, Steve and I have this chance to welcome pulmonary medicine and science friends from around the country and the world to our home town. Last night we had dinner with Steve’s colleagues from Cyprus, Russia and France. Tonight’s dinner was with an Israeli and tomorrow, we’ll be catching up with friends from Los Angeles, Boston and Denver.

For the thousands of ATS conference attendees I can’t personally welcome to the City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection), I hope you’ll take some time to check out our museums, historical sites and parks. Have a real Philly cheese steak at the Reading Terminal Market, near the Convention Center.

Independence Hall, 6th and Chestnut Streets, Philadelphia

As you meet to share your work in pulmonary medicine and research, it is fitting that you’ll be walking in the footsteps of Benjamin Franklin, one of our nation’s earliest scientists/inventors and one of the founders of Pennsylvania Hospital in 1751, the first hospital in what would become the United States of America, in this very city, 25 years later.

Do you have any must see advice for people attending the American Thoracic Society meeting? (I just thought of a museum they might enjoy – the Mutter Museum dedicated to medical history. ) BTW, where did you meet your true love?

The garden in front of the oldest part of Pennsylvania Hospital, Pine Street, Between 8th and 9th Streets, Philadelphia

Today was one of those days when I’m especially patting myself on the back for insisting suggesting that we sell our house in the Philadelphia suburbs and downsize to an apartment on Rittenhouse Square.  Today was the first day of the three day Pennsylvania Guild Fine Craft Fair, being held for the first time on the Square in partnership with the Friends of Rittenhouse Square and with the Philadelphia Parks and Recreation Department.

This gathering of 140 artisans sponsored by the Pennsylvania Guild of Craftsmen is bittersweet for me. The twice yearly Fine Art Show on Rittenhouse Square was one of my father’s favorite events. An artist and art teacher, even until shortly before we lost him at age 84, Dad would spend hours working his way around the Square, chatting with the artists at each booth and inevitably running into old friends and former students. He would have loved the work and the vibe I experienced today.

Each artisan has a booth dedicated to his or her craft. Items ranging in price from $10 to thousands of dollars are for sale, but the event easily stands on its own as a fine craft exhibition even if one is not looking to buy (although, obviously, purchases are very welcome). Fine crafts in the following ten media are represented: clay and ceramics; fiber; glass; jewelry; leather; metal; mixed metal; paper; photography; printmaking and wood.

The show will be open tomorrow (Saturday) from 11:00 a.m. until 7:00 p.m. and on Sunday, from 11:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Today, visitors were clearly enjoying the warm temperatures and the Square. It is finally truly green with flowering azalea bushes and was full of people resting on park benches or on the grass, dogs and their people out for a stroll and accomplished street musicians. Many were dining al fresco both in the Square and at the surrounding restaurants and coffee shops, most of which have outside seating.

Here is a sampling of what you will see if you make your way to Rittenhouse Square this weekend.

Carol Heisler (Quilt Artist), Lorac Designs (In addition to buying a quilt, you can commission a quilt or have Carol finish a quilt you started. It might be time for me to admit I need help finishing my quilt!)

Turned wooden bowl with granite inlay by Nathan Favors (www.bowlmakeronline.com)

Saenger Porcelain (www.saengerporcelain.com)

Elizabeth Gates, Hand Bookbinder, Lancaster, PA (journals, albums, boxes)

Hand-dyed Textiles, Clothing and Accessories, Leni Hoch Designer

Philly Scenes, Russ Brown Photography (www.russbrownphoto.com)

Romeo Glass, Charlottesville, VA (www.romeoglass.com)

Fine Woodworking, Architecture & Design, Ligonier, PA (www.SirofchuckStudios.com)

If you can’t make it to the Pennsylvania Guild Fine Craft Fair on Rittenhouse Square this weekend, you are in luck because the Guild will present another fair at the Square on October 11th through 13th, 2013. You can find driving, parking and public transportation directions at the Guild’s website along with suggestions for other things to do in the area.

And, if you're too tired, you don't even have to walk!

Would you like to see the Pennsylvania Guild Fine Craft Fair on Rittenhouse Square?  What are your plans for this Mother’s Day weekend?

One of the rites of passage for many Baby Boomers these days is the marriage of our children. Tomorrow it’s our turn to have that experience.

Our 29 year old son, Ben, is marrying Andrea. They’ve been a couple for four years and have lived together for two. This is not a hasty, spur of the moment wedding. Together, they have already purchased a house and they did all the wedding planning—a huge relief for me since I am possibly one of the world’s worst party planners once the guest list is over 10 people.

Since Ben and Andrea did all the wedding planning, we really don’t know all that much about their wedding, other than that it will be a lot more upscale than ours. I guess I realized this was the case when in December of 2011, Ben called me:

Ben:  Mom, what do you know about diamonds?

Me:  Umm, nothing.

Steve and I were ( and some say, are) pretty intensely practical. No engagement ring. My wedding dress cost $35.00 at Loehmanns. Our marriage ceremony lasted about ten minutes in a rabbi’s study with only close family, followed by an open house reception in my parents’ small backyard catered by Foodarama (deli sandwiches). Our splurge was a honeymoon trip to Peru. Actually, I don’t think our priorities have changed all that much. We’ll definitely choose travel over diamonds every time.

Ben has lived independently since he left home three months after his college graduation. He’s a grown up. His impending nuptials spurred us into finally converting our VHS baby-child videos into a digital format. So, recently I have spent many hours (when I was supposed to be doing other things) watching baby Ben morph into toddler Ben morph into teenage Ben morph into young adult Ben.

The young man being married tomorrow, was:

• A baby who never slept at night. Ever. He only wanted to sleep in the day time.
  

  Ben visiting Valley Forge National Historical Park out side Philadelphia when he was 4 months old

• A baby and toddler who considered a dose of oral liquid penicillin to be at least as serious as a total blood transfusion which is why I always had to ask the pharmacist to give me extra because a certain amount was guaranteed to end up on me, his father and the ceiling.
• A toddler who had to be restrained by at least two adults for the pediatrician to be able to look in his ears with an otoscope.
  

  Ben getting his first haircut (not his first exorcism)

• A three and a half year old big brother who took a few days to get his baby brother’s name right —”No, not Jimmy, not Jackery. Right, his name is Jeremy,” and who wanted Jeremy to get big so he could play. (This was Ben’s first lesson in, “Be careful what you wish for”. Jeremy grew up to be taller and an exercise physiology major with a special interest in weight training.)
  

  Ben, Jeremy and Steve after our hike up Pine Cobble, Williamstown, Massachusetts, in the Berkshire Mountains

• A big brother who was a little rough with his toddler brother, but who begged us to erase the video recording documenting this behavior when we pointed out that Jeremy might not be too happy about this treatment when he saw the tape in a few years.
  

  Ben and Jeremy during our visit to Crystal Cave, Kutztown, Pennsylvania

• A little kid who held tightly onto my hand all the way up our block to the school on his first day of kindergarten, but who pulled his hand away half way there on the second day.
  

  On the first of our many annual pumpkin expeditions

• The boy who loved to go to a farm to choose Halloween pumpkins and whose Halloween costumes were a purple dragon (when he fit into his lavender Dr. Dentons), a doctor with his Daddy’s doctor bag and med school stethoscope (until he outgrew the scrub pajamas a great aunt gave him as a birthday gift), a ghost (because even his mother could figure out how to make that costume), Superman (a costume again inspired by some pajamas), and a ninja (when his great grandmother gave him and his brother ninja costumes. But, seriously, Nona, we could have done without the “toy” nunchucks.)
• The little boy whose eyes I saw as wide as saucers when I looked up from performing unsuccessful CPR on his grandfather.
  

  Ben mentoring his younger brother, Jeremy, on a fishing outing in Stone Harbor, New Jersey

• The kid who rightly warned me not to bring his little brother along on a trip to the Civil War battlefield at Gettysburg.
  

  Family trip from hell to Gettysburg, Pennsylvania

• The boy who I realized was taller than I on a family trip to Cozumel.
  

  12 year old Ben taller than I in Cozumel, Mexico

• The fifteen year old who broke his leg rough-housing in a friend’s backyard, causing us to receive a Friday night phone call that went something like, “Ben is hurt. Ben is hurt bad.”
• The teenager who insisted he and his brother no longer needed an after school babysitter because he would (and did) prepare dinner every night.
• The 18 year old we left home to take care of his brother for one night when we were called away on a family emergency, who swore he wouldn’t have a party, who had a party and who called us frantically because one of his friends had a concussion from boxing with another friend at the party.
• The college junior we insisted study in Sydney, Australia for a semester because we believe travel is a valuable part of education—who left his bank card in the photocopier in our town library and realized it was missing — when he got to Fiji.
• The college senior who had to do an extra semester because for some reason Penn State wouldn’t give him credit towards his major in hospitality management for his course at the University of New South Wales in “Australian Sports Law”.
• The college senior who did not heed my sage advice NOT to try to break up with a girlfriend by long distance telephone.
• The college senior who brought home, Bailey, the frat dog, for winter break, which showed me that I missed having a dog.
  

  Andrea and Ben

• The young man who introduced us to Andrea whom we all agree seems to be a good match for him and who we will “officially” welcome into our family on May 4, 2013.

We have a First World problem at our apartment. Our refrigerator is broken. The repair guy came out, ordered a part and declared it fixed — except it wasn’t. He came back today and is ordering another part. I figure if he just keeps replacing parts, eventually, we’ll essentially have a new refrigerator; and hopefully, it will it work. In the meantime, we’ve been eating out more often than usual although I confess that when you live on or near Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia, there’s always a temptation to eat out.

You can bring your canine friend to the outside seating at Parc

By early evening last Sunday, Mr. Dr. Boomeresque and I were starving (also in the First World sense of the term.) Dr. Boomeresque (Steve) had a better excuse than I did. He had actually been taking care of sick people all day and had not stopped for lunch. He had a craving for mussels. I, personally, have never had a craving for mussels which I blame on my mother’s admonition (at the mere mention that one was even thinking of consuming shellfish) that one might as well play Russian Roulette.

View from our inside table at the Parc Brasserie, Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia

It was a beautiful early spring day. The trees were finally flowering on Rittenhouse Square and it seemed that everyone and his/her dog were out reveling in the chance to be outside without outerwear. The dogs seemed especially happy not to be made to wear ridiculous (but admittedly cute) dog coats.

Steve's moules-frites

If he can’t be in Brussels (i.e. the vast majority of the time), Steve’s favorite place for mussels is Parc Brasserie, a French bistro on Rittenhouse Square. Parc is one of three restaurants on the east side of the Square with outside seating. We were hoping to score an outside table facing Rittenhouse Square. Not happening. Too many people (with their dogs) had the same idea before we did.

The Bar at Parc

No worries. You can eat mussels inside too. Parc is a fairly large restaurant with a pressed tin ceiling and old tile floors. When it’s full (which is quite often), the decibel level can be unpleasant. (OMG, I have become my parents!) But, at 5:30 on Sunday evening, we could converse, even with a table next to the bar. If we couldn’t sit outside, at least we had a view through the front windows across to the flowering Square.

Parc Brasserie is one of the “stars” in Stephen Starr’s restaurant empire which consists of 22 themed restaurants in Philadelphia, four in New York City, three in New Jersey, two in Florida and one in Washington, D.C. However, if you didn’t know there was a single mastermind behind all these restaurants, you would never realize you were dining in part of a constellation. The Stephen Starr restaurants don’t look like each other and the cuisine in each is distinct. More importantly, in Philly, they each have a good to excellent reputation. I would classify Parc as moderate to moderately expensive. Currently, the most expensive dinner entre is a New York strip steak served with garlic spinach for $33. Steve’s moules frites (mussels in a white wine, shallot and garlic broth with a small pail of French fries) rang in at $17.50. (They don’t call them “French” fries in France. There they are just frites.)

The Parc beet salad is an interesting mix of arugula, beets, grapefruit and ricotta

Since I had not earned a hunger as ferocious as Steve’s, I ordered a beet salad which consisted of beets (duh), grapefruit, arugula and “house made” ricotta. At $13.00, the greens were chilled and fresh, the flavors interesting and it was robust enough for the two of us to share, especially because every table is also provided with a truly excellent bread basket with three types of bread, including baguettes baked on the premises, and a ramekin of enticing butter. While Steve happily dove into his moules, I had onion soup for my main course for $11.50. It was served in a crock and I wanted to love it. I was eating French onion soup in a French bistro for goodness sake, but I found the broth not to be sufficiently full bodied. I prefer the onion soup I make at home—and I have never come close to declaring myself anything other than adequate in the kitchen. The cheese was appropriately gooey, but even with Steve’s help, I didn’t finish the crock.

My onion soup at Parc Brasserie

Our server was professional, pleasant and knowledgeable. When the wheat beer we wanted was not available, she recommended a substitute that we liked better than what we originally ordered. The Belgian beer, Duchess de Bourgogne, looked like Guinness in color, but tasted like a smooth hard cider. At Parc, you can be serious about drinking beer, the numerous beers on offer having their own menu. If you are intending to drink wine, the least expensive bottles on the extensive wine list were priced in the $30′s or you could really impress your date and go for the $600 bottle of 1999 Pessac-Leognan ‘Premier Grand Cru”. Then, there’s always the house chardonnay or merlot for $16.00 for a 12 ounce half carafe. Bingo.

Duchess de Bourgogne Beer at Parc

Even Steve wasn’t craving a French dessert by the end of our meal ($9.00 price average). We bid Parc adieu and headed over to the other side of Rittenhouse Square to our favorite low fat Italian yogurt place, Yogorino. We strolled back to the the Square, finished our yogurt on a park bench and then, feeling full in a multi-national sort of way, Mr. Dr. and Mrs. Excitement called it a night and headed home.

Have you ever eaten at Parc Brasserie? If so, what was your opinion? If not, would you consider trying a French bistro in Philadelphia?

After our visit to Kinsale on the southern coast of Ireland, we had a relatively easy driving day to Kenmare where we spent the night at the comfortable Watersedge B&B to rest up for tackling the Ring of Kerry. Once again, I managed to find us a B&B that was a good hike out of town across a bridge over an estuary and then along an unlighted narrow road with no shoulders. Fortunately, it was still somewhat light at 9:30 p.m., so we were able to walk into town for dinner and make it back without becoming road kill.

A Landscape View Towards the Coast Along the Ring of Kerry

I realize that Rick Steves is not in need of any blogger love, but we heavily relied on his Ireland guide book during our trip to Ireland, so he deserves a shout out. The section of his book which covers the Ring of Kerry provides a kilometer by kilometer guide to driving the Ring of Kerry and living to tell about it. It is ominously entitled, “Driving the Ring of Kerry (Made Less Scary)”. We also used a Road Atlas of Ireland and Google Maps on my husband’s I-Phone (when there was coverage).

The Ring of Kerry Landscapes are Intensely Green

The Ring of Kerry is a loop road that follows the coastline of the Iveragh Peninsula in the extreme southwest of Ireland. Many parts of the road are narrow, windy (both kinds of windy), hilly and to make it more frightening interesting, they allow two way traffic, much of which consists of tour buses. If you are from a good deal of the rest of the world, you will also be driving on the wrong side of the road. (Please remember to stay on the wrong side!)

The Entrance to the Staigue Ring Fort Near Sneem on the Ring of Kerry. Thought to Have Been Constructed Between 300 and 400 A.D. for Defensive Purposes Using No Mortar.

The Interior of the Staigue Ring Fort With 18 Foot High Walls, 12 Feet Thick at the Base, With Staircases

We spent an entire day driving the Ring of Kerry and the adjoining Skellig Ring from Kenmare to Dingle. This is one of those places in the world where the journey itself  is the there there. My husband hero, Steve, did all the driving. Because driving this route requires the driver to keep his eyes on the road and the passenger is likely to have her eyes squeezed shut in terror (I’m exaggerating — kind of), you will want to give yourself plenty of extra time to stop and take in the views and perhaps to refresh yourself with a pot of tea and scones (with clotted cream and jam, of course) along the way.

A Well Deserved Tea and Scones Stop

If you think you will be too petrified to enjoy driving the Ring of Kerry on your own, I personally would not think less of you if you were to decide to be one of the passengers on a tour bus. However, whether you drive or take a tour, experiencing the beauty of the rural, and often rugged, Ring of Kerry should be on your list of “things to do” while visiting Ireland.

The Green Meets the Sea Along the Ring of Kerry

If you have driven the Ring of Kerry, how would you describe your experience? If you have not yet visited the Ring of Kerry, do you think you will want to drive yourself or leave the driving to a tour bus driver?

As Boomeresque readers know, my husband, Steve, and I returned from a trip to Hawaii at the end of February. We live in Philadelphia, so despite the curious fact that the island state of Hawaii actually has roads that are denoted “Interstate” highways, this meant our trip involved about 24 hours in various airplanes to get there and back. 

Interstate Highway in Hawaii? Huh?

I guess technically, we could have cobbled together a series of cruises to Hawaii, starting in Baltimore or New York City. (For some reason that I cannot fathom (pun sooo intended), no mass market cruises have started in Philadelphia since 2010.) We would then have had to find a cruise to traverse the Panama Canal, sail up the west coast of Mexico and chug across 2,274 miles of Pacific Ocean. Since one of us still has a full time day job, that would have taken entirely too much time.

Two long airplane trips were our only realistic travel option. When we fly, Steve and I persist in engaging in magical thinking by picking aisle and window economy seats and expecting no one to be seated between us. The truth is that the airplane industry has figured out that a sustainable business model requires that their planes fly full. Hence, soon after taking an assigned middle seat (depressing enough in itself), some unlucky fellow passenger realizes that he or she is ensconced between a husband and wife who, throughout the flight, will pass snacks, water, reading material and the occasional note back and forth over them.

Fellow Passengers Waiting to Board One of Our Completely Full Flights

In economy class on airplanes, we sit closer to complete strangers for longer periods of time than any of us would willingly tolerate if we were not needing to get somewhere far away fairly quickly. The truth is that while we are touching knees, entangling feet, and sharing an armrest and the occasional shoulder with the poor soul in the middle seat, we are also partaking of the same recirculated air and using the same rest rooms (um, rest closets?) as the others also confined to our metal tube.

We weathered our twelve hours of flying time to Hawaii without contracting any illnesses that would have interfered with our enjoyment of a thirteen day break from winter. On our trip back to Philadelphia, our main concern was whether we would make our connecting flight in San Francisco. We should also have had another concern. Within half a day of returning home, it became clear that somewhere during our trip, one or more of our fellow travelers had shared some nasty microbes.

Recreation of the Author's Posture While Suffering From an Intractable Headache for Four Days

Steve came down with a generic sore throat, cough and feeling crummy virus. He soldiered on and waited until the weekend to collapse. I, on the other hand, immediately took to my bed with a stomach virus and fever. I will spare you the details because that would be definitely TMI (too much information). When the nausea and fever subsided a few days later, I commenced having a four day headache that was not particularly responsive to ibuprofen, my usual cure all pain remedy.

This is when being a disability lawyer married to a physician is not a good thing. I am not your every day, garden variety hypochondriac. I am a hypochondriac with special knowledge. I didn’t even have to resort to WebMD to come up with possible diagnoses of a leaking brain aneurysm, a brain tumor, an incipient stroke or encephalopathy of unknown origin.

Finally, after four days of being in a head pain filled daze, right before I was going to suggest to Steve that he was being negligent in not recommending a brain CT scan and that he was going to feel very sorry if I expired from lack of medical intervention — I started to feel better. The pain subsided and my mind cleared. (Of course, this does not mean I will be so lucky the next time I have a headache).

Rather than wallow in toxic self pity and self loathing about everything I did not accomplish during my lost week, I decided to see the silver lining. I got a nice jump start on losing weight so I won’t  look like a sausage in my mother of the groom dress in May.

Does anyone else want to fess up to occasionally being a hypochondriac?

Saint Matthew - Detail from stained glass in the church of St Mary and St Lambert in Stonham Aspal in Suffolk, England (Photo by Kevin Wailes, Wikimedia, Creative Commons Lic.)

My beloved (Mr. Excitement) is not a huge fan of classical choral music. So, last night while he supped with some science peeps, I treated myself to a ticket for a performance of the Saint Matthew Passion by J.S. Bach performed by the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Westminster choir and the American Boychoir, in the opening performance of the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts (PIFA) in Verizon Hall, the main performance space of the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts.

Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts, Center City, Philadelphia (Photo credit: Spikebrennan CC lic.)

Opening in 2001, the Kimmel Center replaced the venerable La Scala-esque Academy of Music as Philadelphia’s premier performance venue. A modern take on a soaring 19th century railroad station, the Kimmel Center has proved controversial in the tradition loving City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection). However, there is no denying that the sleek, wood clad, cello shaped Verizon Hall and its versatile, high tech, large stage lent itself to last night’s casting that included a double adult chorus, a boys choir, double chamber orchestras and five vocal soloists.

Even given our 21st century decreasing attention spans, I was never inclined to check my watch (or my smart phone) during the three hours and fifteen minutes long performance that included an intermission barely long enough to accommodate the inevitable line in the ladies room. Prior to the start of the orchestra’s first ever uncut performance of the Saint Matthew Passion, conductor, Yannick Nezet-Seguin (the Montreal born wunderkind second season music director of the Philadelphia Orchestra), explained to the audience that the piece would be performed uncut and would flow from scene to scene as the story of Jesus’ last days on earth unfolded. The audience “got” that we were to be respectfully silent until the very end of each part (with the exception of slightly jumping the gun with applause at the end of the piece).

Interior of the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts, Philadelphia, on a concert night

I show up every year for the Philadelphia Orchestra’s performance of Handel’s Messiah. As stirring  as that composition can be, I’ve never felt that I was at anything but a concert. However, last night’s presentation was part theater. Indeed, like the soloists, lighting designer, Jon Weir, received a half page program credit with a photo. The vocal soloists moved about a raised cruciform platform and interacted with each other and with the choirs and musicians. The choristers also “acted”, at times with their backs to the audience, at times covering their faces with their scores and employing hand gestures. All performers, including the conductor, were dressed in black although colored over-the-shoulder drapes identified the disciples and key Romans. In addition to the marquee soloists, various members of the Westminster Choir were tasked with individual parts. In my admittedly fairly unschooled opinion, some truly had soloist quality voices.

As a former high school and college orchestra oboist, I sometimes imagine myself back in the woodwind section, counting innumerable rests and cranking up my nerve to play exposed passages on a fickle double reed instrument. Last night, my excellent seat put me hovering over an expanded oboe section in one of the chamber orchestras that included four(!) oboists who traded off to oboe d’amores and English horns (alto and tenor oboes). They were seated next to a flute section, featuring early 18th century appropriate wooden flutes. However, the best nod to the Baroque era was a viola da gamba that accompanied several arias along with  small ensembles, featuring a lute and some type of baroque piano. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine powdered wigs in the audience.

The Massive Organ Pipes at the Back of the Verizon Hall Stage, Kimmel Center, Philadelphia

The performance, sung in German, was translated into English by “supertitles” displayed on an electronic screen suspended over the stage. At first I found this a somewhat jarring intrusion into the 18th century, but I was soon won over by the added value of understanding the text.

This was my first exposure to the Saint Matthew Passion, but the music was not all unfamiliar as Bach incorporated congregational hymns which I recognized from assemblies at the public school I attended in England — where there is no separation of church and state.

Bach employs an Evangelist to lead us through this most important of New Testament narratives. This demanding part was expertly sung and acted by British tenor Andrew Staples. Again, with the disclaimer that  I am no expert, his singing appeared effortless, seamless and sonorous, surpassing that of the other soloists, especially (it pains me to say) the female soprano and mezzo soprano.

You won’t be able to obtain tickets to the remaining sold out performances of the Saint Matthew Passion here in Philadelphia, but if you have any affinity for Baroque ecclesiastical music, I urge you to find yourself a recording for inspiration and to enjoy. Like many symphonies, the Philadelphia Orchestra is hurting financially, but it is not too late to come see and hear them, here in the City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection).

With best wishes to all who celebrate Easter.

Do you recall a memorable performance of Bach’s Saint Matthew Passion or another inspiring piece? Do you have a favorite performance venue or orchestra?

(* Okay, I missed Friday again, but I’m a sucker for alliteration, so it’s another Philadelphia Phriday —  on Saturday.)

It’s probably no secret that Philadelphia has a little bit of an inferiority complex. Wedged between New York City and Washington, D.C. on the I-95 corridor, sometimes we are just not feeling the love. However, we recently had our collective ego massaged a tad when Mark Bittman, food writer for the New York Times Magazine, wrote an article about New York City and said, “the greatest market ‘we’ have is 80 miles away in Philadelphia.”  He was referring to the Reading Terminal Market.

The 12th and FIlbert Streets entrance to the indoor Reading Terminal Market

As part of my Baby Boomer desire to reconnect with my home city, I decided to walk over to the oldest continuously operating farmers’ market in the United States, the Reading Terminal Market. I was in good company. The Reading Terminal Market is the third most visited attraction in Philadelphia, after the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall.

The Reading Terminal Market is an indoor market in Center City Philadelphia, occupying an entire city block, between 11th and 12th Streets and between Arch and Filbert Streets. Even though it has not been a train terminus since 1985, the Market was built underneath the old Reading Railroad train shed. It is walking distance from the Independence Hall area, City Hall and most fortuitously, it is adjacent to (and underneath), the Pennsylvania Convention Center. Given its location and what it has to offer, it is no surprise that the Market is visited by an average of over 100,000 tourists, conventioneers and locals a week.

Time Out for a "Philly" Cheese Steak

If you can’t find something to eat for lunch and take home for dinner at Reading Terminal Market, you are seriously not making any effort — at all. The Market has over 80 vendors with cuisines ranging from Pennsylvania Dutch, to Asian, to Middle Eastern, to Indian, to Mexican, to a French creperie, to Cajun, to a sit down gastro brew pub, deli, and a down home American diner, complete with a formica counter and swivel stools. Of course, you can also score a Philly cheese steak or an Italian hoagie. (PS: we don’t call them “Philly” cheese steaks because — what else would they be)?  BTW, unless you have a lot of time and are prepared to mediate, do not ask a group of Philadelphians where to get the best cheese steak.

There are every manner of snacks and desserts, including to die for (and maybe from) baked goods, candy, and Philly soft pretzels — real ones, that you slather with mustard. True Reading Terminal Market devotees, cruise around picking up various parts of their meal from different vendors.

Reading Terminal Market Food Court

Although there are a few sit down food emporiums (emporia?), there is also food court type seating in large central areas, as well as hidden in every nook and cranny of the cavernous space. Sharing a table is part of the experience. And if, heaven forbid, you absolutely must check your email (or write a blog post), there is free wifi. I mostly managed to keep my smart phone pocketed while slurping my soup so I could enjoy the pianist whose repertoire ranged from Chopin to Ragtime.

A Reading Terminal Market Cheese Counter -- or, At $26 a Pound, Should We Call it a Cheese "Purveyor"?

In addition to all the prepared food purveyors, the Reading Terminal Market is also a go to destination for locals to buy fresh seafood, meats, poultry, produce, and flowers, in addition to high end charcuterie for that tapas party they’ve been meaning to have.

A Fresh Meat Counter at a Pennsylvania Dutch Run Stand in the Reading Terminal Market

Realizing that it’s not just locals roaming the aisles, there are vendors selling items to help visitors to the City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection) remember their trip. You can take home an Amish quilt or something less expensive like your very own tiny replica Liberty Bell or copy of the Constitution on parchment. (After all, you never know when there might be a pop quiz on the Bill of Rights). I certainly did not want to show up at home empty handed, so I bought some dark chocolate covered pretzels for my beloved at the Pennsylvania General Store.

A Bakery Counter in the Reading Terminal Market Full of Tempting Treats

Like the gorilla I found painting in Rittenhouse Square, the Reading Terminal Market was doing its part to keep Philadelphia weird. As soon as I walked in the door, I realized that among my fellow shoppers were Marie Antoinette and two disgruntled Vikings. (It turned out that they were a marketing gambit for the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts.)

Marie Antoinette and Some Unhappy Vikings -- Everybody Goes to the Reading Terminal Market

If you go —- and you really should, here is some information to help you plan your visit:

• The Market has a very helpful website that includes an interactive map, showing the location of and more information about the various vendors.
• The Market is open Monday through Saturday from 8:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. It is also open on Sundays from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Pennsylvania Dutch vendors are there on Tuesday and Wednesday from 8:00 a.m. to 3:00 p. m. and from Thursday through Saturday from 8:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Check the website for additional closing information and for information about upcoming special events.
• The Market is walking distance from the historical colonial district, is well served by public transportation and has discounted parking options. (But really, why do you want to drive around the center of any large city? If you must, here are some driving directions.)
• Near the 12th and Filbert Streets entrance (behind the Marriott Hotel), two of the major hop on-hop off sightseeing bus companies sell tickets for their tours. Consider taking a bus tour first thing in the morning (hopping off at a few places) and returning to the Reading Terminal Market for a late lunch.
• You can even take a walking tour of the Market, with an opportunity to sample some of the wares.

If you’ve been to the Reading Terminal Market, which was your favorite vendor?  If you’ve never been, do you think you would want to include it on your Philadelphia itinerary? Do you have any questions for your fellow Boomeresquers, including moi?

By the calendar, here in the northern hemisphere, it’s the first day of Spring in two days which is why today’s weather forecast for Philadelphia is disturbing: snow and the dreaded “wintry mix” with about an inch of accumulation expected. Really? And those daffodils in Rittenhouse Square? What about them?

I’m using my store of memories from our recent trip to Hawaii to try to propel myself into a sunnier frame of mind. I thought maybe a blog post about the Tropical Botanical Garden outside of Hilo, Hawaii on the Big Island would help blast me from my “shouldn’t winter be over by now?” funk.

Dan and Pauline Lutkenhouse, the founders of the non-profit Garden, had the space hand-carved out of 37 acres of dense tropical jungle. Visitors descend down a steep hillside on a boardwalk and winding trails to the shore of Onomea Bay. Neither Steve nor I are ardent horticulturalists, so I expected the two hours our tour gave us at the Garden to be over-long, but we found ourselves captivated by the intense flowers, foliage and setting for the entire time. Here are some of our visual memories:

Not a Deciduous Tree in Sight

The colors are riotous.

Tapeinochilos ananassae or Indonesian Wax Ginger

Orchids

And there's fauna too.

The environment is dripping.

Water is key to the environment.

Even the leaves are colorful.

At the bottom of the garden, awaits the seascape of Onomea Bay.

Onomea Bay

Okay. I feel better now. Outside my window, it’s gray. But, in my mind’s eye, I’m in a tropical botanical garden.

If you enjoyed this post, it is now part of a blog “round-up” about nature travel on the Green Global Travel blog. There you can find posts by other bloggers inspired by this theme.  This post has also been shared on a German travel blog hop about “islands”, Travel World On-Line.

What do you do to awaken your senses during a bleak winter’s day? 

(*There’s no need to gently point out to me that today is Saturday. I figure it’s still “approximately” Friday. I must still be on Hawaiian time.)              

William Penn's 1683 Map of Philadelphia (Red Arrow Points to Southwest Square, Now Rittenhouse Square)

It’s no accident that I picked Rittenhouse Square for my first post about a Philadelphia neighborhood. Since 2010, it has been the focus of our urban lives. When we became empty nesters, we I decided to downsize. We I sold our “this old house” in a Philadelphia suburb and we moved to a dog friendly,16 story 1925 apartment building on Rittenhouse Square, one of Center City’s most popular neighborhoods (sometimes referred to as Center City West). My husband, Steve, was shocked skeptical about the move, but to me it seemed pre-ordained when someone offered to buy our house (which wasn’t for sale), for a fair price, with no mortgage contingency.

Happily, all of us (Steve, I and our cockapoo, Dino) made seamless transitions to city living. Steve loves being able to walk to work at the University of Pennsylvania; we can walk to restaurants, cafes, concerts and theaters; and I can run a somewhat more European style household, doing food shopping on foot at small stores or at the weekend Rittenhouse Square Farmer’s Market.

The Nanny Goat Statue in Rittenhouse Square is a Popular Hangout for Children

During our first year living on Rittenhouse Square, we rented a parking place for our one remaining car. After the year, we realized that we hardly ever used the car, so it now resides in Steve’s free parking lot at the University. If you are reasonably fit, you can walk anywhere in Center City Philadelphia and the area is well served by public transportation.

Street Scene With 19th Century Homes Near Rittenhouse Square

You’re probably not reading this so you can decide whether you want to live on Rittenhouse Square. You’re reading this to see if there are:

Reasons to Visit Rittenhouse Square in Philadelphia

• It’s not like New York City’s Times Square. In fact, it’s more like the antithesis of Times Square. Times Square isn’t even square for goodness sake. Rittenhouse Square doesn’t have a speck of neon. It’s actually a  one block square, charming urban park with trees, flowers (during the appropriate seasons), lawns, a pool with a little fountain, and quite a few statues, thanks to Philadelphia’s commitment to public art.
  

  Public Art and Rose Garden in Rittenhouse Square

• It’s historic. The Rittenhouse Square Historic District is on the National Register of Historic Places. It was included as one of five parks in William Penn’s 1683 plan for the City of Philadelphia and was known as Southwest Square until 1825. (Surviving London’s 1665 bubonic plague outbreak and the Great London Fire of 1666, as did William Penn, can teach one the value of city planning that includes green space.)
  

  Hanging Out at the Rittenhouse Square "Pool" On a Warm Summer Day

• It’s a great place to people and dog watch. There are numerous benches donated by grateful and/or bereaved people. On a nice day you can buy a take out lunch at one of the many local food purveyors, sit on a bench and watch:

*the business people striding purposefully across the Square with their briefcases,
* bike couriers hanging out waiting for their next call,
*all manner of street musicians,
*little children with their nannies, parents or Baby Boomer grandparents, usually playing near the nanny goat statue,
*college age students sunning themselves on the grass (sometimes you might get a whiff of another type of grass),
*old guys playing chess,
*folks exercising in all sorts of ways,
*some unfortunate homeless people who may or may not be conversing with someone only they can see; and,
*if you’re really lucky —  a gorilla painting.

You Never Know What You Might Find in Rittenhouse Square

• If it’s starting to drizzle, you can stake out a table at one of the three restaurants on the east side of the square with covered outdoor seating.
  

  A Winter Day in Rittenhouse Square

• It’s part of an interesting neighborhood to wander, full of 19th century distinguished homes. (Consider taking a walking tour).
  

  Holiday Lights Brighten the Night on Rittenhouse Square

• It’s actually a good area in which to make your home base during an overnight or multiple day visit to Philadelphia with quite a few hotels, a Bed and Breakfast Inn and many restaurants, a good many of which are B.Y.O.B. (In Pennsylvania, you have to buy most alcoholic beverages at stores run by the State unless a restaurant has a liquor license. There is a “State Store” open long hours seven days a week, two blocks from the Square on Chestnut Street).
• Rittenhouse Square is very conveniently located for most of the other “must see” places in Philadelphia. It’s a 20-25 minute walk to Independence Hall and colonial Philadelphia. It’s a similar length walk to the Pennsylvania  Convention Center. It’s a 20 minute walk to the Benjamin Franklin Parkway where you can find Philadelphia’s major museums such as the new Barnes Foundation Museum, the Franklin Institute Science Museum, the Museum of Natural History, the Rodin Museum and the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
  

  Church of the Holy Trinity on an Early Spring Day, Rittenhouse Square, Philadelphia

• The Curtis Institute of Music (Philadelphia’s Julliard) borders Rittenhouse Square, as does the historic mid-19th century Church of the Holy Trinity. Both often have free concerts. The Church has brown bag lunch free concerts every Wednesday from 12:30 to 1:30 P.M. and I enjoy listening to its carrilon every evening at 6:00 P.M. The Academy of Music and the Kimmel Center for the Performing Arts (home of the Philadelphia Orchestra) are also both within easy walking distance as are theaters, featuring everything from Broadway musicals, to avant garde plays to comedy.
  

  Spring's Flowering Trees on Rittenhouse Square

• If you walk east from Rittenhouse Square along Walnut Street, you’ll be on Philly’s answer to Rodeo Drive, except that mixed in with the high end shopping emporiums are stores at lower price points.
• Rittenhouse Square often hosts outdoor art shows, concerts, and even, movies.
  

  Fall Colors on Rittenhouse Square

• They don’t roll up the sidewalks in the Rittenhouse Square District at 6:00 P.M. There are many people out and about at local restaurants and bars well towards midnight. Starting in the early spring and through the fall, many restaurants have outdoor seating which is usually bustling until late.

I purposely have not linked to specific hotels, restaurants and museums. I am planning to post reviews of individual Philadelphia restaurants, museums and activities from time to time based on my own experiences. Meanwhile, here is a link to a recent excellent press release by the Greater Philadelphia Tourism Marketing Corporation listing the myriad restaurants, hotels and attractions in the Rittenhouse Square area and here is a link to their webpage about Rittenhouse Square.

This post has been shared with a blog party sponsored by the Tablescraper blog: Oh the Places I’ve Been. Check out the other entries for travel ideas or just for mind travel.

Have you had a chance to visit Philadelphia, William Penn’s City of Brotherly Love (and Sisterly Affection)? Did you visit Rittenhouse Square? Does Rittenhouse Square remind you of any other urban park you have happened upon in your travels? (Share your comments below with other Boomeresque readers).