A Restored Faith in Humanity

Amy and I park our relatively new car on the street with a neighborhood permit because monthly garage rates would almost equal our car payment. About a month ago on a rainy Saturday afternoon we went out to our car to run some errands in NJ (so I was already in a bad mood). When we got to the car we saw that the passenger side mirror had been swiped off and was in pieces in the street. Amy noticed it first and started to yell a string of expletives that would make Robert De Niro in Casino blush. I could feel my blood start to boil as I pictured my meager bank account getting smaller. Then I saw something on the windshield. A note! Could it be that the perpetrator of this heinous crime is going to own up to it?

Well not quite...

It reads:

"The #42 Bus took your mirror off and drove away. The time was 11:56. I witnessed it from across the street. Call me if I can help. Peter (last name) (phone number)."

Not only did Peter take the time to write this note but he also wrapped it in plastic to protect it from the rain.

We called the police to file a report. About 2 hours later an officer came by (I was actually expecting to wait much longer) and we filled out the necessary paperwork. He also took down Peter's name and phone number. A little bit after a SEPTA "cop" also came by and pretty much did the same thing.

We took the car to Rocco's Collision in South Philly and $235 and 2 days later we had a passenger side mirror again. Not too long after that SEPTA sent us a letter from their property damage department (this must happen often if they have dedicated staff for it) asking for more information, which we sent them along with the invoice from Rocco's. We weren't really expecting to hear anything more or get any money back. It was the word of this Peter guy against a transit organization that doesn't have a great reputation for always doing the right thing.

Well today we got another letter in the mail from SEPTA stating that they are willing to reimburse us for the $235 if we agree to not hold them liable for anything else regarding this incident (pretty much a settlement). Of course, we are fine with this and look forward to receiving a check!

I am just elated that this whole process worked out and not just for the money. Everyone did the right thing. Peter could have just decided to not get involved and go about his day. Instead he wrote a note, wrapped it up in plastic and went out in the rain to put it on my car all to put himself in a position to get annoying calls from the police/SEPTA asking him what he saw. Also, I am impressed with SEPTA for taking responsibility. I understand that two hundred bucks is hardly anything for them, but they could have just as easily ignored it.

We'd like to get Peter a little something for his good deed. Anyone have any suggestions?

The Great Epiphany

Like many young urban professionals, I grew up in the sterility of the suburbs. Cherry Hill, NJ is one of those places with manicured lawns, great public schools and a strip mall with a convenience store at every major intersection. Great place to spend your fort-building-in-the-backyard years. Having Philadelphia so close was a nice luxury, but I never thought that I'd actually live there. When it came time to pick where I would go after high school I selected a University in a suburban setting near a big city — comfortably similar to my hometown.

However, at some point during my time at Towson, something changed inside of me. The car dependent lifestyle started to not make sense to me — I would wonder, "why do these 1,000+ people who are all going to the same office park at 9am need to drive individually? Why is the office park so far away from mass transit?" The abundance of corporate chains and big box retailers versus the lack of local ma and pop establishments made me angry — "What ever happened to the American dream of owning a business and treating your customers like family?" It all just didn't add up to me. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what was missing from my life but I knew I needed a change of scenery for my own sanity.

During summers and long breaks from college I would come back to South Jersey and spend a lot of time in Philadelphia. I would go "urban hiking" with friends and walk the pristine streets of Society Hill and Rittenhouse Square and even explore what seemed like the great-unknown: Queen Village and Northern Liberties (cut me some slack, this was 2001ish and the mentality was don't go below South Street or above Spring Garden, ever). I became enthralled with the architecture, the grit, the grid, the buzz, the intensity and the density of it all.

I was home.
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"A house in the 'burbs and a bitchin' SUV is how I'm never gonna wind up" - Jonah Matranga

"Dude, you are so hardcore about Philly."

Hello soon-to-be-faithful readers!

The interwebs certainly do not need another blog, but I thought this would be a good way for friends, family and co-workers to follow my life and read my deepest thoughts.

First, some things need to be defined. "Philly Hardcore" is a nickname given to me by friends because I get militant if people trash The City of Philadelphia. Some people love animals and others collect stamps, but I have an affinity for this place. I don't claim to know the most about it nor do I think that its perfect — I just know that I love living here. The nickname was solidified when my fiance actually found a hoodie with the phrase emblazoned across it at The Bourse (of course) giftshop. Philly Hardcore was also the name of the quizzo team (third bullet point) I played on for almost a year at O'Neals and Black Sheep… and never won.

What you won't find here…

Sorry horndogs, if you got here using The Google to find naughty pictures, this blog has nothing to do with hardcore pornography. Also, it is not about local hardcore bands — however I do enjoy some of that music and may blog about it occasionally.

Well, that's really about it for now, look for my first real post relatively soon.