Philadelphia: 1992

[Diary excerpt.]  

This entry -- Free Library of Philadelphia, Saturday, January 11th, 1992.

I'm writing from the grand Free Library, which has the look & feel of a cavernous Carnegie structure, like a Duke East Campus library made bigger. I will be able to check books out as soon as I get a Temple ID, which will be when the checks I ordered come from the bank . . .

So far much time has been spent taking care of business, connecting phone line, electricity, rent, signing up for classes, building up food supplies, etc. 

I like it here so far. Except for right around Center City's heart, Philadelphia is not a bustling city. It has been cold, but what's struck me most are the number of people living on the street. There are the ubiquitous mentally ill roaming around & muttering, but there are also a lot of apparently otherwise healthy people, strung along every block. It is depressing because it is cold and often wet. I am faced with a moral dilemma every time I walk by someone asking for change. I have to make a quick judgment based on intuition & my own disposition, whether to give a few spare coins. It's not a sweeping moral philosophy at work, but a one at a time provisional choice, a little moral choice to be made constantly. Whet impresses me also is the steam rising from the gutter grills at night, the shadows reflected by buildings & people & colored lights. Many people sleep right on top of the grills to warm up by steam/ It is a Dickensian, even medieval or Biblical sight, the number of poor beggars.

I am quickly getting to know Center City simply by walking a lot. I found an organic store with the Velvet Underground in the background, much smaller than one such as Well Spring in North Carolina; and a corner grocery run by Cambodians, very friendly people, on Carmac and Spruce, right across the street.

The Temple Center City Campus has nightly movies, $1.50 for Temple students, at the very long-running "Cinematheque." I saw two excellent films, She Must Be Seeing Things (1987, Director Sheila McLaughlin) and Lina Wertmüller's All Screwed Up (1974-1976).  The McLaughlin film [is] about two women lovers & their relationship through jealous times, balancing having & being (in a Frommian lens); low budget but imaginative. All Screwed Up is, not surpisingly, akin to Fellini, touching on many bases without clearly resolving the main plot lines.

I have no TV now, so will be seeing a lot of films at the Cinematheque.

So far I am slowly recovering from the New Year flu or whatever it was. My only mishap since has been to burn my hand on a hot pot handle. 

Notes: Spring Recess will be March 6th through 15th.

Book reading: Roadside America, with a promise for a "powerful novena of childlike confidence," whatever that means. . .