Philadelphia is a beautiful city to approach by night. Its lit skyline is spectacular to behold. It was a welcome site to see the tall buildings creep into the horizon after such a long drive and immediately after some frustrating traffic.

Coordination seems to be a good word for Philadelphia at night. At one point we passed a series of buildings bordering a waterfront. Each building was outlined by white lights. And each building was reflected in the water. The consistency made for a quaint site.

Three of the towers have a patriotic tint-- red, white and blue neon lights zig zag on the very top - tastefully.

We got some exploration of the city done by cab. We had our own indecisiveness as well as under 21 restrictions to thank for that. We had trouble locating a place where Bret could join us. We even to a cab to Dan and Busters. It's an arcade, play zone and bar all in one. Bret couldn't get in! Meanwhile, kids were pouring out of the venue taunting us with the fact that at one point under 21s were allowed in.

We went through South Street- it reminded me a lot of Georgetown. Lots of store fronts and activity still buzzing at 10 PM.

Eventually Bret and I split from the rest of the group so they could go drink. We headed back to South Street. We got a couple of cappuccinos and sat by a window on the second floor. After that we checked out Tower Records. After that we hailed a cab back to the hotel.

Wow. Fatigue's caught up with me. I think I'm going to close my eyes.

11-11-2001
AE's B-Day
Bret's B-Day
Vonnegut's B-Day

We're on our way home from Montrose, PA now. Still working our way to I-81.

Right after we departed Belma Herrala's house we stopped at a cemetery where Sean's grandfather was buried. The tombstone read HERRALA in big letters near the top. Then near the bottom it had H THEODORE. On the left it had BELMA V already inscribed with her birth year 1921. There was a dash and then the death year was blank. I thought that was really weird. You have your tombstone all prepared waiting for you. All it needs is four numbers to be inscribed for completion.

But apparently its common. All throughout the cemetery I saw similar stones. The wife's dead and the husband's waiting or vice versa.

There was even a stone, black with an intricate stairwell scene carving, the carried only the birth dates of its future honorees.

I wandered a little bit (thought about the D.O.D. cemetery scene) and found a flat memorial that laid on the ground much like my grandfather Turnock's. It was a little neglected, much like my grandfather Turnock's, with grass closing in on the borders of the memorial.

The plaque was for a WWII vet, like my grandfather. I believe it read "PVC WWII". A WWII vet and his memorial was forgotten. Then I noticed a number of round black things on the memorial - rabbit poop. It seemed a little offensive to leave rabbit poop on a vet's grave ... on Veteran's Day no less!

I searched in my pockets for something that resembled a paper towel. I found a line of sticky back stamps. I used part where the stamps were already removed to brush off the feces. Much better.

Yesterday after the football game we went to a place called "Geno's". They are world famous for their cheese steaks. Sean and Bret wanted authentic Philly Cheese steaks so it seemed like the right place to go.

Apparently great minds think alike. The line extended to the street! Not only that but we saw two separate groups of friends who didn't know we would be there. First as we stood in the street at the back of the line, a man on a motorcycle with stunning green eyes pulled right up to us and said, "Excuse me, are you Michael Vick?" It was Rich Hall. He was referring to an incident where Sean was wearing the #7 jersey at a bar and this annoying patron asked if Sean was Michael Vick and taunted him, "What's wrong with your ankle?" etc.

Then Sean and I were further in line when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man stop and stare at us. I think Sean and I turned our hears simultaneously to see Shehab! Further back in line there was Wayne.

It's hard for me to trace the origin of the happiness Wayne and Shehab bring me. I never knew them well-- I never hung out with them very much, but whenever I see the two of them, I smile. I think they represent an era in my life-- an era where Carolyn and Clint were prevalent in my life. But what's funny is-- I hung out with them once Carolyn and Clint were long gone. We went bowling. Sean and them went drinking. I dunno. Why evaluate it? Wayne and Shehab make me happy-- make me feel at home. I'm fond of them both and it made my day to see them even though it was only for a few minutes before we started leg II of our weekend journey.

We got some unique views at the game yesterday. The first half we were real close and on and end zone side.

A few years ago Uncle Timmy mentioned that his Redskins season tickets were in the end zone.

"Oh, I find when I sit on the ends, it's hard to tell what's going on the other end" I said.

"Yeah but in the end zone when they are making a drive, you can see the holes opening up and the players squeezing through." he said.

Yesterday I got to see what he was talking about and it was great. You see the game from the players' perspective and it was much more exciting to watch running plays from that view than the see-all, know-all, nosebleed section.

Unfortunately our section was quickly in the shadows and got really cold. So at the half, we moved into the sun. due to some complications with "saved" seats we sat in the first and then later the second at the fifty yard line. We sat right behind our team. So this time we got a sideline perspective - what it was like to be the rest of the players.

It was very interesting and to be honest I probably paid more attention to the side line activity than the game that second half.

I think the thing that touched me the most was Kevin Jones' family. They were in the front row right across from the aisle from us. They called his name out and waved. They were so proud.

Kevin Jones is from Philadelphia. At one point he ran 86 yards for a touchdown. You should have seen the excitement that embraced his family. They were jumping they were so happy. It was nice that they could see him perform so well. They seemed to miss him a lot.

I watched Jones a lot on the sidelines. I saw him turn and acknowledge his family. I watched him try to communicate with gestures where they could meet after the game.

At one point Jones was sitting out resting and another runner scored. I wondered in my head, "Is he jealous? Does he wish he was out there to score again?" Then I saw him turn around with the biggest smile on his face. I didn't even see him smile after his own score!

His family was happy as well. One woman holding a baby jumped up and down. That momentarily frightened the baby but then it seemed to relax.

At the end of the game we waited at the top of the stairwell for the four Vandervort's (Brian's parents were there too). It took them sometime. The opposing teams already greeted each other and the equipment was already dragged off the field. And there at the very front row where we had been sitting, Jones came back to see his family. I saw the first two of many embraces. They were long and heartfelt, excited, enthusiastic and tender. They were touching. I saw a TV camera nearby catching it all. Probably an invasion of privacy, but I was glad it was there to catch the reunion. America could use more footage of a family's love.

Another thing I learned sitting on the sidelines is how reactive the cheerleaders are to the crowd.

First right when we sat down an old man ran up and started yelling at them, "Where's Go Hokies? Do Go Hokies! That's why I came!"

I never seen someone so vehement about a cheer. A cheer that only contains 2 unique words no less.

It took them a few moments but the cheerleaders complied, shaking their little pom-poms and yelling, "Go, Hokies, Go! Go, Hokies, Go!"

Quick tangent-- in high school Nenninger and I wanted to take the printer feed rip-offs from computer paper and market it as "Techie Pom Poms". Actually that may have been Christina Geyer and I.

The cheerleaders never really watched the game. They faced the crowd pretty much the entire time. I suppose they could see the jumbotron from their position but I don't know if they watched it much. A couple of times it seemed like they depended on the crowd to let them know something good was happening. The crowd would start cheering and then the cheerleaders followed with their glee.

One time the crowd started the "Let's Go Hokies" clap clap clap-clap-clap cheer. The cheerleaders followed.

Then at one time, a few rows back organized yelling 'FIRST DOWN!" They did so three times. Then a few moments later one of the male cheerleaders yelled in his megaphone, "First down!" He was a bit tardy.

So I guess as a summary, the cheerleaders didn't really seem like cheer-leaders. More like cheer-sheep.

...