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28 December 07: All those little things
The Year in Review by Steve Ives
Just by virtue of being the type of person who would visit a website such as this, you're already inclined to be the type of person who notices "the little things". And,
as such, you're aware that the "little things" are never, ever little. The types of things that thousands of our fellow Philadelphians zip, saunter and sashay by on a
daily basis we find worthy of an extra moment of our day. This intended to inform and persuade the uninitiated, the folks who just come and go. You're already inducted
into the faith. So this isn't for you.
Who this is intended for are those zipping, sauntering, sashaying friends, coworkers, family members, bar buddies, baristas and bus drivers who don't notice "little
things"; who don't point out items of note -- "it's just a lamppost" kind of people.
Are you kids listening?
Your friends aren't weirdos. They aren't dull. They don't have some unusual form of OCD (so far as I know). The difference between them and you is that they see the world
through a different lens. They seem to be people who look at the big wide world as composed of parts of a number so vast and overwhelming that our minds and our eyes seem
to stay fixated on the beautiful little pieces.
It's a bit ironic that this situation seems to be so true in Philadelphia, a city so often overlooked and remarkably full of "little things" that sometimes fit so
seamlessly into the urban fabric that you may not ever notice them. Everyone is familiar with the big draws. Our city is known for a decommissioned house of government, a
damaged bell, a weathered stairway and fattening foods. Our answers to Fifth Avenue and The Space Needle. So be it. I'd like to offer that it isn't the big, shiny things
that give any place worth its salt its real appeal. It's not the chocolate chips but what's in the cookie that really gives one that satisfied feeling and it's the kind
of thing that really makes itself evident to those who've walked these streets and noticed the details. What are the little things you may bypass?
Have you ever wasted time in Chestnut Park?
Have you ever taken the time to find every detour off of Locust Walk?
Have you ever sought late night refuge at the Mayfair Diner?
Have you ever spent a Sunday night at Fiume?
Every city has those individual amenities that offer it a flavor unique unto itself and are beyond replication.
You can't manufacture Headhouse Square
You can't recreate Ward Park.
You can't build your own Bainbridge Street.
You can't improve on The Plateau.
Philadelphia has spent so much time looking up at others and down on itself that we collectively not only forget the amazing little things, we can go to great lengths to
minimize their significance -- only to find ourselves wondering why our visiting relatives or those Southern tourists seem so fascinated by Belgian blocks and statuary.
Many of us seem to forget this city's past as a literal showcase of the world. During a time that even many of our parents would remember, Philadelphia was counted among
an elite circle of places in which to see, to learn and to do. This city rose to its great success on things that were valued at the time (roaring industry, community
life, apparently religion) and endured a hard fall as some of those things became less central in American life. What was left behind were artifacts from a time of
excitement, of hope, of hard work. We were left with remnants of a great era and became over the course of fifty years the city of, as a friend once put it, American
Ruins (with only Detroit being able to make as legitimate a claim). This all happened at a time when 'the city' was becoming less important, something to cast off,
shunned and avoided. Those left behind, those relative few who refused to leave and those fewer who never felt the need to created a new identity for themselves over time
and the urban landscape largely suffered for it.
Over the past 15 years or so that mentality began to change in this nation and within the past decade this attitude began to seep its way into Philadelphia, slowly
penetrating mindless bureaucracy, deeply ingrained insularity and a culture totally unfamiliar to and totally unwilling to grasp concepts in design, in planning, in
management that are relatively old thinking to the places Philadelphia always wants to compare itself to. What is fortunate for all of us is that this collision of
circumstances puts our beloved city in a unique situation to at last define itself as the post-industrial hangover finally subsides. We're in the unique position of being
as big as we are, with as much as we have and as little as we've had to work. We're in the unique position of being relatively fertile ground for minds that craft the
'little things' that make up cities at a time of a kind of hand-off from 'the old guard' to people who not only have the drive and the vision to create but who have also
taken the time to understand the place they're putting their hands into. In other words, this city is a most wonderful template. We aren't a scratch-build Sunbelt city
and we aren't a place that gets our every thought and action modeled by every place that's trying to be someplace (and thank goodness for that). We're that old
house with the sturdy stairs, the thick walls and the fireplace. We've got the 'little things'. We haven't yet obtained much of that outward glamour but people are
noticing the new windows. And what I would like for you, the too-busy-in-the-day-to-day type, to do just once (and pick a nice day to do it -- in April when the Phillies
are contractually obliged to suck but before the football draft) is to not ignore the magnificence of your surroundings. Spend an afternoon, pick an area of the city you
never visit and go for a walk. Need a beer? Put it in an iced tea bottle and go out but go out and take the time to observe what's brining all 'these new people' here.
Rediscover the Philadelphia of your parents' day. Much of it is still largely there.
The big slide at Smith Playground is still there.
You can still get ribs at the shack on Weccacoe.
It's possible to take a trolley to The Zoo again.
You can still see the world from the 23.
I'd like for all of us to be a bit more appreciative of all the little things that compose our city. The little things get very little press, draw very few tourists and
make it into very few brochures. It's those little things that are valued by regular people that maintain the soul of a city. It's that soul that gives a city its appeal,
its outward glamour because as its residents feel that they inhabit an important place, even if its only important to them, it begins to rub off. It becomes less
transient or at least leaves a more indelible mark on people who pass through it. Everyone who's ever lived in and left New York -- even if they hated it -- can point out
something unique to their experiences that they'll tell countless times at countless gatherings (even if its roaches). I would hate to think that people who live in and
leave Philadelphia leave with nothing more than memories of sad or ineffectual things. A lot of residents walk around with that same viewpoint and it's a little thing
that doesn't help us much. There are plenty of things about being a Philadelphian that get rightful scorn but the little bonuses can be enough to soothe a sour moment. If
you notice enough of them this will become an easier place to love. It takes time and a patient eye and you'll never cover it all. But take a moment every now and then.
The little things create the day and are what life in Philadelphia is all about.
–Steve Ives
phillytrax@aol.com
STEVE IVES ARCHIVES:
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