Jim Trainer

In Uncategorized on February 3, 2011 at 10:13 pm

I started this journal when I lived in South Philly.  I called it Cream&Sugar.  We lived across the street from Bobby Lemons’ shop.  He sold groceries, Christmas trees and coffee.  Plenty of cream plenty of sugar.

We weren’t deep South Philly. We were thankfully far from the stadium, far from that once cruel cohabitation of Italian immigrants and oil refineries.  We were at 10th&McKean.

Me and my roommates moved to South Philly when the honeymoon on Antique Row was over.  I was heartbroke and hellbent and we all suffered.  I took my shots and now I got the Philly in me.  I’d rather have the Philly in me than be in Philly that terrible summer with a Nissan Sentra and a bottle of Xanax.

It was the Year of the Cock and I’d fell out of love.  Me and Evil Kanevil couldn’t quite get back in the saddle.  He couldn’t make that ride on a cold October day in MN and I took my final ride to the slower-lower on New Years Eve 07.

The right people payed.  We all payed.  Those guidos from Ocean City who broke my nose are up a foul river from the good life.  That fucking woman got back together with her football player husband like nothing had happened.  2 out of 3 of those catering companies went under and we’re still waiting on the third.

Philly’s got a dirtiness to it that is weird and strange.  There are plenty of vacant lots and cold shells of warehouses for someone to get lost in and never be heard from again.   Just ask the Franklin Slasher or Gary Heidnik.

I was riding high between addiction and madness.  Even when I was out of my balloons I was lucid.  There is a  difference between lucid and clear but neither is what you want when you’re living in Philly.  It was paranoia theatre at its finest and most certainly mutually assured destruction.

I live in Austin now.  It was 80degrees on January 31.  I go down to the bario store to get my coffee.  Plenty of cream plenty of sugar.

Halloween, West Philly 1999

Halloween, West Philly 1999

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  1. Love the details. I love the grit of telling the story of a place- Philadelphia becomes alive in this piece as it does in many of your vignettes and songs. I want the smells and tastes of Austin now.

  2. […] as Bobby Lemons would say. Good old Bobby Lemons. The Mayor of 10th street. The years I spent in South Philly were a mad slipshod blurring of the lines between love&death. I was crazy enough to live there […]

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