East Passyunk Gateway

The first time I was introduced to the word "Pash-unk," I was in the backseat of a Geo Metro next to a Temple student who was trying to roll a joint with the second page of a city paper she found on the floor. We were heading from a speakeasy in West Philadelphia and on our way to Ray's Happy Birthday Bar. For all I know, it could have been a dream.

The neighborhood wasn't sketchy, at least by Philadelphia pre-2005 standards. But having only lived in D.C., Portland, and rural Virginia, anything north of Bethesda was a scene straight out of The Wiz to me. 

It was gritty.

I haven't spent a lot of recreational time in Passyunk Square, but throughout my wanderings I've witnessed the change. My first local friends were raised amongst picture windows displaying statues of the Virgin Mary and silk flower displays. That's the first Philadelphia I knew as an adult. Despite the many Catholic families that still call Passyunk Square home, the neighborhood has officially tipped. 

Unlike neighborhoods in Kensington and Point Breeze, Passyunk Square never really needed any help. It wasn't flashy, but it was practical and self sufficient. It was Philadelphia's hometown neighborhood where the working and upper middle classes functioned. But where there's affordable real estate, there are refugees from more expensive cities, Millennials with trust funds, and hipsters who snub Center City.


The more adventurous and car-reliant chose Northern Liberties and Fishtown, others chose Passyunk Square. And looking at the changes about to take place at Broad and Passyunk, it seems that the trifecta of gentrification - gays, Millennials, and yuppies - have finally solidified their place by glitter-bombing an inconspicuous concrete slab with steel, light displays, and a bike-share kiosk. And as a culpable part of that triad, I have to say, I like it.

Now if the PPA could keep the scofflaws off the Broad Street and Oregon Avenue medians, South Philadelphia could start looking less like a parking lot.

Cat Urine? No, it's just New Jersey.

Residents of Irwindale, CA thought they had it bad last year when they discovered their air teeming with the smell of freshly chopped chili peppers from a nearby Sriracha factory. Obviously not too many suburban California residents are familiar with the odiferous realities of the Northeast, a region so notoriously stinky that its unique smells have worked their way into pop culture jokes.

"It’s probably just a strange wind pattern coming over those factories in Staten Island where food flavors are made." - Jack Donaghy, 30 Rock

For about a week, South Philadelphia residents have wondered about a mysterious cat piss smell, blaming everything from meth labs to raccoons.

But the Passyunk Post narrowed it down to a likely source,a  power plant being built in West Deptford, NJ, just south of Philadelphia's Navy Yard. 

Try as the Garden State might, it seems it will never shred its reputation.

Broad Street Median Parking

I live on a small residential street near Chinatown, an odd court cornered by a main house that shares a garage. Recently after arriving home from a flea market with a large dresser tethered into the back of my busted Beetle, I pulled on the sidewalk to unload, in front of the garage addressed to my house, turned on my blinkers, and quickly ushered the piece behind the gate on my court.

I know how ruthless the PPA can be on my street. Most of them are polite though. I've lived here for five years and they know me and my car. They smile.

This wasn't one of those days. Within the >3 minutes I was out of sight, a meter maid had ticketed my car and vanished. Legally it's understandable. I was illegally parked. But my hazard lights, open trunk, and open gate indicated that I was clearly loading, on a street with no proper loading zone. Still, it was technically illegal.

But there are other parts of the city where cars park illegally, and the illegality is not so technical. It's unnerving to receive a ticket when I was clearly loading on a small residential street for less than five minutes, then drive down the city's most prominent boulevard to find cars, many not even registered with the Philadelphia Parking Authority or even the state, parked along the Broad Street median, or even atop the concrete median on Oregon Avenue, all without a ticket.

Apparently the problem with the illegally parked cars along Broad Street and Oregon Avenue isn't as simple as the PPA letting the cars slide. Like most nonsense in the city it comes down to various agencies claiming it's someone else job. The PPA is responsible for cars parked at corner, in front of stop signs, or overstaying their limit in loading zones. Parking atop a median isn't a parking violation, it's a traffic violation, which defaults to the responsibility of the Philadelphia Police Department.

Five years ago a South Philadelphia Division Police Inspector told the South Philadelphia Review that the Broad Street median parking tradition was "done." Five years later those cars remain. As it is today, cars are occasionally ticketed but only at the discretion, or availability, of a police officer with nothing better to do.

But the ultimate problem has nothing to do with the PPA's inability to ticket cars in the middle of the street or the Police Department's reluctance to do so. It's in the minds of those who reserve their parking spaces with lawn chairs as they drive a block to the 7-11, those who won't park in a space that can't be seen from their front window, and those whose relatives visit their 20 foot wide row house and somehow expect a space near the door.

It's the definition of unreasonable.

In the best of cases, these people think it's a headache to park a block away. In the worst, they'll tell you that saving spots with pieces of furniture is a "Philadelphia tradition." But not only is doing so an illegal tradition, it's unfair to the other forty people who live on the same block, fairly hunting for the same space.

Truly eliminating the illegal median parking along South Broad Street would likely exasperate the alleged woes of those who expect curbside parking, but it would also introduce them to the reality of having a car in one of America's densest cities. South Philadelphia and other neighborhoods where our unusual parking traditions abound pose equally unusual obstacles, which have likely led to the PPA and the Police Department - along with midcentury malaise - to overlook the violations.

South Philadelphia is one of the city's densest neighborhoods, but it's also one of our flattest. Unlike similar neighborhoods in Washington, D.C. or New York where occasional apartment buildings and parking garages offer street parking a bit of retrieve, South Philadelphia is almost exclusively single family row homes.

It's not a problem without a solution, but the solution is not one brought to us by architects and developers. It's a solution that involves an evolving mentality and abandoning unjust traditions. Forcing the hundreds of cars illegally parked along Broad Street and Oregon Avenue into their neighborhoods will force neighbors to accept the fact that parking a few blocks from their house isn't that bad.

But how do you force the city to finally address this antiquated ignorance? Next time you receive a parking ticket, suffer the indignity of traffic court with a photograph of South Broad Street's median lined with hundreds of unfined traffic violations. The PPA will likely tell you that ticketing those cars is not their job, but they might also drop or reduce your own fine. Once this happens more than a few times, the city's Police Department will find themselves pressured to finally resolve the issue.

Broad and Neon

Contributed by Mike Gaines

How to bring vibrancy to South Broad Street below Washington Avenue

In my six years of being a resident of Philadelphia I have noticed a lot of peculiarities that have come to define, for me at least, the unique life that is Philadelphia. If you think about this country’s big cities, each one has its own style – New York is the rich, pompous brother; Portland is the hippie/grungy/hipster sister; Chicago is…Chicago; Miami is the gay, Hispanic half-brother; and Philadelphia, well Philadelphia is just the weird, black sheep of the family no one really likes to talk about.

GO PHILLY!

One of my favorite habits is to walk around the city taking note of the architecture and historical elements of the city, but not the History Channel elements, the ones forgotten about and tucked away behind awnings, placards, and faux-facades. Some of these elements, however, are staring down at us every day, but since people are so immersed in their phones and latest iProduct, no one actually looks up to take notice.

This is seemingly evident on South Broad Street, below Washington Avenue, with its long-dormant neon signs. When one thinks of neon, the first thing that comes to mind is Las Vegas. And while any remaining neon signs in Philly are not relegated simply to South Broad Street, this area presents itself as a grand boulevard of opportunity. The current "Avenue of the Arts" stream of culture and entertainment ends at Washington Avenue, anchored by the four "interesting" columns on the corners, the Marine Club, the car dealership-turned-Rock Ballet School, a vacant lot with half a train shed, and another vacant lot that once hosted Cirque du Soleil when it was in town.

Let’s continue the party down Broad Street! Our first stop is the old Boot & Saddle Bar, located at 1131 S. Broad Street, which according to its sign offered country and western music. It has been closed since about 1995 but many remember it being the only country bar in South Philly. One person even remembered that, “it was really weird. Occasionally, they would just play the National Anthem, seemingly for no reason. If you didn’t stand, you would be asked to leave.” How patriotic! There was a reason for it, though, as a majority of the clientele were sailors from the nearby Navy Yard. At any rate, while the sign itself makes rehabilitation efforts limited, there is still plenty that could be done with the building – it just takes some imagination (and the right amount of money).

Just down from the Boot & Saddle is Philips Restaurant and Cocktail Lounge (with air conditioning!), 1145 S. Broad Street, next to the now-shuttered Broad Street Diner. Philips is situated in a gorgeous brownstone but ceased being a restaurant some time ago. I am not quite sure what is in the rest of the building, but it appears that a cluttered antique shop occupies the first floor of the space. With its long and narrow sign and a canopy that comes down the front steps and extends to the street like a welcoming glove, can you not see limousines pulling up and letting its occupants out for a night cap? They could even demolish the old diner and put in an outdoor garden for its customers on the spot.

Next on our tour is Meglio Furs, 1300 S. Broad Street. Again, another shuttered building with very distinctive features. No one is quite certain when Meglio’s ceased operations, but mannequins and advertisements still grace its graffiti-covered display windows. A furrier itself speaks glamor, so converting this space should be a no-brainer!

While I am sure there were several other neon signs along Broad Street that no longer exist, the last stop on our tour is much further south, ending at the Dolphin Tavern, 1539 S. Broad Street. Unlike the previous examples, this place is still in operation. It is nothing more than a dive bar and a place to shoot pool, but it has been a South Philadelphia institution for quite some time. Like the Boot & Saddle, it catered to the Navy Yard set.

With these four examples, there certainly has to be someone out there clever enough to come up with an entertainment district along South Broad Street, something that evokes the glitz, glamor, and gaudiness of Las Vegas. Now that casinos are allowed in Pennsylvania, isn’t it time for Philly to have its own Little Las Vegas?

"SS Americana"

While they decided to move filming from Philadelphia to Vancouver this year, the season premier of Cold Case had an unlikely star - The SS United States. Set as the location of an alleged suicide on her final voyage, the fictional "SS Americana" paid tribute to her real life counterpart by breaking the transatlantic crossing record. Among other similarities, the fictional ship was docked in South Philadelphia, stripped of her interior, and awaiting some form of reuse.