Pumpkins in Philly

On the subway this morning, I sat next to a man reading, Why Men Marry Bitches. Somewhat comically, the woman sitting on the other side of me was reading Che Guevara's essays on How to Change the World.

Lisa and I met again at Penn Station, where we boarded our train to Philadelphia. This city wasn't part of our original plan, but a loyal supporter had generously offered to help organize a fundraising party if we could arrange to get there. We were happy to oblige.

We arrived to perfect weather, took a cab to our hotel, and couldn't help but marvel at the fact that the hotel was running on a classic Macintosh. Amazing.

It was my first time in Philly and I fell in love instantly. As we walked to the party we spotted lots of lit-up pumpkins gracing window sills and stoops. Like this one.

We left early enough to check out The Wooden Shoe, a radical collectively-run bookshop that we'd both wanted to visit.

We arrived to a beautiful apartment in South Philly where we met our gracious hosts and spotted a table full of cucumber sandwiches, grapes, chips, and cranberry salsa. It was another fabulous party, where we had the honor of getting to know many new and longtime supporters, and where we both fell in love with Lulu the cat. It was an inspiring evening.

By the time the party ended, a thunderstorm had ensued and one of our ever-gracious hosts offered us a ride back to our hotel, where we, of course, felt obligated to watch TV. I stopped the channel on South Park, proclaiming my love for Cartman. Lisa said her favorite character was "the one in the orange hood." Apparently she doesn't have the same affection for the show as some of us. I was still a little bitter at having lost last month's Bitch-sponsored Pop Culture Debate in Portland in which I'd tried to argue that South Park is more effective at social criticism than The Simpsons.