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I went home last weekend for two shows at Jacks Firehouse. I came in from the North on Friday afternoon with Baba O'Riley blasting on repeat. For two days I ran around on both sides of the Schukyll and fell back into a deep love with Philly. I walked from one end of Arthur Street to the other along my old Bulletin paper route, waving to my neighbors on their porches and chatting them up like my mom would. I rocked a little baby to sleep. His mom was really nice. We were walking down toward Halstead Street, me and our crew, and I waved and said hi. She said hi back, neighborly. Suddenly she stood up at the railing and said, "Hey are you the Fox Chase Boy?" It took me by surprise and weirded me out a lot but I had to say yes, because I am one. Then we talked for a bit. I think everything was okay. She let me hold her sweet infant boy and he fell asleep in my arms. These are good signs.

This Argeros Boy got hugs and kisses from his entire family. It felt like all of them anyway. My beautiful friends all came together too. You all came down to Jack’s in Fairmount right across from the Eastern State. You were like bees but I got all the honey. It seemed to me like a lot of people laughed and cried. I grieved some because I needed to. Being together felt so good to me. On the way out of town I stopped in and said goodbye to my folks and got more hugs and kisses, then I grabbed a cheesesteak from Steve's Prince. I headed back up the Turnpike toward Brooklyn with a heart wide open. It felt really good and it hurt too. It's always both. Sometimes its like a toothache if that makes sense. I'll take it. I can still taste the cheesesteak and feel the hugs.

Me 10 years old. Fox Chase, Philadelphia - 1981