'Cause I Live and Breathe this Philadelphia Freedom

I’ve been posting about people I love recently, along with my friend Hannah. She posted about her dog the other day, which gives me the freedom to post about a place I love: my hometown, Philadelphia.

Since moving away seven years ago, I’ve told people Philadelphia looks good in my rear-view mirror. This is not to say I only love it when I leave, but to say that I love it more now that I’m not there all the time. Perhaps this is the case with anywhere you live and leave, but having only ever lived in two places, I’m no expert.

What do I love about the city that loves you back?

First on the list would have to be the food. You can find a “Philly cheesesteak” on the menu just about anywhere (here’s a photo from Galway, Ireland), but you can only find the real deal in the greater Philadelphia area. The secret is the bread and its minimalist beauty. Acceptable toppings are cheese, onions, tomato sauce, and ketchup. Please don’t put mayo on it and, for the love of Pete, don’t call it a sandwich. Having devoted so much energy to the cheesesteak, I will whip through the other foods I seek out when I get back for a visit. Water ice, Tastykakes (now available in many NC Wal-Marts), hoagies, and soft pretzels.


I love the pride my fellow Philadelphians display. To be of this city is to be proud of something. For some it is their ethnic heritage, for some it is a sports team, for others it is a family member in the military or serving in law enforcement, and for many it is a combination of all the above. The house where I grew up sat catty-corner from a “tap room” called Fatheads. When the Flyers scored a goal, I sat on my couch and cheered along with the guys in the bar. I seriously missed this while I watched Flyers games in Carolina this spring. I also miss hearing last names like Tagliaferro and Kasperowicz.

The Sheetz vs. Wawa debate has raged on around me for years. To that argument, I offer this: Sheetz does not provide fee-free ATMs, nor do you leave smelling distinctly of coffee, cigarettes, and the freezer case. All Wawas have the same marvelous smell and, throughout my adult life in Philadelphia, they were the only place where people consistently held the door open for one another. So, there you go, another thing to love about Philadelphia is Wawa.

Philadelphia is the perfect distance from the beach. It is far enough away that you feel like you’re getting away, but close enough that you can still stop at the Wawa, use the ATM and head out to get a proper cheesesteak.

There are drive-through beer distributors and elevated trains. You can drive over at least four bridges to get to New Jersey and you can buy clothes without paying sales tax. Local news anchors are celebrities. It is the only place to be on the fourth of July and it is the home of some of my dearest friends and fondest memories.