Wallets out

It is a rare day that I can solicit donations to organizations in both Vienna and Philadelphia, and this is the day.

The staff of radio klassik Stephansdom.

Tomorrow, March 13, radio klassik Stephansdom will be holding its second fundraising drive of the year — and this month the theme is spring, the season. The Vienna-based station is going all out tomorrow with special offers and programming (Beethoven’s Pastoral symphony and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring will be shoehorned in there, I’m sure), along with a chance for you to call in to your favorite hosts, not to mention a report from Christoph Wellner and the ongoing success of the campaign. I’ve written about radio klassik Stephansdom before, so I hope you’ll step up and donate here. (Though if you don’t subscribe to international calling or don’t know German, you may want to forego the call-in.)

The Pen & Pencil Club of Philadelphia.

Closer to home, the Pen & Pencil Club of Philadelphia, one of the nation’s oldest private press associations, has launched a GoFundMe page to cover a few pressing bills. In addition to this, the Club is seeking new members, and don’t let the fact that you don’t live in Philadelphia deter you — you’ll always be welcome when you drop by the city for a few days and want to enjoy a comfortable, gregarious drink with the gentlepeople of the press. You can donate here and learn more about the club here. I’ve written briefly about the Club before too.

Go Birds

When I was in Philadelphia late last year, preparing a move back to my hometown in the not-too-distant future, I was settling up my bill at the club, and just as I said my goodbye to Shannon, the bartender, she nodded at me and said, “Go Birds” — with a somewhat cynical, flat affect, a tone that’s not uncommon to Philadelphians. I hadn’t heard the phrase before (I hadn’t been in the city for quite some time), and sensing my confusion, she said, “It’s something we say to each other here, George. Go Birds. You’ll get used to it.”

Now that the Eagles have a good shot at the Super Bowl again — after having won in 2018 and lost in 2023 — I’m putting on my Eagles cap. As a native-born Philadelphian, I have an obligation to do so, though I’m more of a baseball than a football fan myself. (The post-season performance of the Phillies last year was a nightmare from which I’m still trying to awake.) More than any enthusiasm for the game, I’m loyal to a city that takes its sports teams very seriously, even if on occasion its sports teams and their corporate owners treat their fans reprehensibly.

The phrase has transcended its original purpose as an expression of fandom and become — well, become a sign of affection, especially for the city itself. In 2023, shortly after the Eagles lost the Super Bowl, Philadelphian Hannah Workman wrote:

Even though the Phillies just lost the World Series and the Eagles just lost the Super Bowl, I still have hope for the remaining Philadelphia teams. Losing those championships after being underdogs and making it to the finals was something that really captured the “essence” of Philadelphia. … Philadelphians and anyone who roots for Philly sports teams have a special connection, and seeing it come to life while away from family at college has been so special. I may miss home, but when I hear the phrase, “Go Birds,” I don’t feel quite as alone.

Even non-Philadelphians appreciate the feeling. “I don’t have any specific issue with Philadelphia as a city, but the general animosity I feel towards Philly sports fans and their … passionate reputation tends to color the city as a whole for me,” Ned Donovan wrote a few days ago on Medium. He continues:

It’s fascinating, then, how language and colloquialisms can evolve beyond their original meaning. “Go Birds” isn’t just a rally cry for a football team — it’s a Philadelphia love language. It’s a way of saying “I see you, I acknowledge you, we’re in this together.” In a city known for its hardened exterior, these two words serve as a handshake of solidarity, a gentle reminder that beneath the tough facade beats a heart of gold.

“I still don’t like Philadelphia. Probably never will,” Donovan concludes. Of course, former Eagles center Jason Kelce’s “No one likes us and we don’t care” is the only reasonable response to such a sentiment:

So yeah, I’ll be watching the Eagles take on the Washington Commanders next Sunday. Go Birds? Goddamn right, Go Birds.

On newsstands now

The uniformed representative of the United States Postal Service just dropped the July 2024 issue of Philadelphia magazine into my mailbox, and I recommend you hie down to your local newsdealer to pick up a copy. I found it wonderfully readable; so did the American Society of Magazine Editors, which honored Philadelphia with its 2024 National Magazine Award for Lifestyle Journalism, an award that “honors print and digital journalism that celebrates readers’ passions and interests.”

A regional magazine should reflect the character of its region, and the July issue does so again under the editorship of Brian Howard. A report on development at Penn’s Landing describes a corruption wiretap as “amusingly incriminating,” a phrase that in two words encompasses the laconic cynicism of Philly residents towards their government officials, but even better is Philadelphia writer-at-large Jason Sheehan’s article “Looking for Luisa,” which is the funniest thing I’ve read in years. Describing his hunt for a cookbook author who may or may not exist in reality, Sheehan describes one moment of his investigation:

I get one kitchen manager on the phone, and he says this is “the stupidest fucking question” he’s ever been asked, and I’m like, Come on … really? This is Philadelphia, asshole, and if THIS is the stupidest question anyone has ever asked you, then you gotta get out more. I mean, two days ago, one of my neighbors asked me if I thought a cat could survive jumping out of the second-floor window of her townhouse and I said yeah, sure, cats are amazing, and then she said, “But what if it was carrying a whole chicken?,” and that wasn’t even the stupidest question I’d heard THAT DAY.

That breezy combination of absurdity, disbelief, and casual obscenity has always been a part of the style of Philadelphia — both the magazine and the city.

As far as these things are discoverable, Philadelphia is one of the oldest regional magazines in the country, having been established in 1908 by the Trades League of Philadelphia, whatever that was. Since 1946 the magazine has been in the hands of one member of the Lipson family or another and remains locally owned-and-operated. I first started reading Philadelphia in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when D. Herbert Lipson hired Editorial Director Maury Z. Levy, who established the tone of the magazine and came up with some of the magazine’s most popular features, especially the annual “Best of Philly” issue.

This August the magazine is planning a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the “Best of Philly” issues, but those of us with long memories will remember that the feature began as “The Best and Worst of Philly,” a compendium of local, witty snark that rendered these issues collector’s items. Apparently (so I surmise), more practical considerations prevailed and the publisher thought it best not to alienate potential advertisers, so at some point the “Worst” was dropped. It’s still a useful issue, though, and I’m looking forward to this year’s entrant.

Though its 2024 National Magazine Award honored Philadelphia‘s lifestyle journalism, each issue also contains deeply researched stories on the city’s political and cultural life; a recent story on the trials and tribulations of the Kimmel Center was a highlight, and I’m sure somebody over there is working on a University of the Arts story that will dig as deeply as anyone can into its recent closure. Alas, very little of the print magazine has found its way online, but its web site is still essential reading for current and former Philadelphians like myself. So I raise a glass to Philadelphia today; and if you’re nice to me I might send you a scan of that Jason Sheehan article. It’s a riot.