"Why So Serious?"

Spent my Sunday in Philly. First stop was El Vez to treat my dearest and "oldest" friend Pat to an early birthday lunch since my month is so busy. A huge vat of the best guac EVER can in a lava rock bowl coupled with a pitcher of blood orange margaritas. I would have been sated with that alone :)

We stupidly ordered lunch on top of it and I feel into a boozy food and tequila coma. The waitress heard it was a birthday lunch and brought out churros with a candle. Very cool. We were so stuffed we each took one bite of the churros and were done.

Pat and I walked in 90 degree, 2000% humidity to Market Street so she could take the El home and I could grab a cab to the Art Museum to meet my friend John for the last day of the Picasso exhibit. It was oppressively hot. The second day of May should not be like August in Hell.

To add to the weather, it was: Broad Street Run Day (10K race), Susan Komen Walk, and Equality Forum Weekend. Philly was a buzzin' on Sunday.

So I meet up with John and we go through the exhibit, after declining the headphone/speaking tour thingies. For it being sold as a "Picasso Exhibit" there sure were more Miro, Chagall, Braque, and Gris. John estimated it was about 25% Picasso.

90% of the guests wore the guided tour headphones and liked to step and push to see "the art". Oh so so serious are we. It was weird. They were trying to look very interested and knowledgeable while standing close, then far, then close, cocking their heads one way and then another. "All the world's a stage" indeed.

Quite frankly, they looked so miserable to be there. I expressed to this to a woman who backed into me and (thank god) she was of the same (if not stronger) opinion. She had a degree in art (?) and we both agreed the whole point is to look and like or dislike. All this introspection and puffiness and silliness was more interesting than the art on the walls. (NB to people who hang pictures on the walls of the Philadelphia Museum of Art...short people see major glare on the pieces you hang so high and light so poorly.)

I digress.

I tried to get John to talk to her and meandered into another room of the exhibit but when we caught up he told me she was there with someone. Poor Johnnycakes. Then all of the lights in the museum went OUT. OUT OUT. Pitch. It felt like minutes but it was probably less than 30 seconds total, but really freaky.

After deciding we got our $20 worth of high culture, we cabbed it back to El Vez (my life is circular) and landed in the middle of EQ. It was nearing the end of the day and people were hot, drunk and punchy. John went into the "Homo Hut", as he so lovingly refers to a pizza joint and I watched a street brawl between lesbians outside of "Sisters". It was rather entertaining. A cop stopped, tried to break up the fight and John pulls out his cell to video the whole show. Then the cop is pissed we're taking pics. John tried his best to explain it was for entertainment value, not the 6'o clock news.

We made our way back to El Vez, which had no more tables so we ended up diagonally across the street at Zavino for beer and tiny pieces of cheese. The waitresses were super friendly and let us park our butts at a table and people watch. Good times. It is funny to sit with a friend you have not seen face to face in 15 years. How easily you can fall back into the banter and kidding and conversation. Good times.