I've mentioned in this column before that the pins on the In My Place map will eventually form a thick line that traces my driving route from home to my chosen public transportation hub. But maybe that's not entirely true, because I don't take the exact same way every day. The grid system of most Philadelphia neighborhoods, including this one, allow for some split-second decision-making along the way, a left turn here or a left turn at the next block depending on where there's a red light or where there is too much oncoming traffic, and so on. Maybe sometimes I go down one street and there's a tree knocked down, blocking the road, like this morning, and so I back up and go down a different road and go past a pleasant garden that I like on a particular corner.
A garden with a conspicuous stone obelisk thing, not huge but definitely noticeable when you're driving down the street, this huge fucking thing right on the expanse of a big North Philly lawn. Good news, I was able to figure out how to translate what's written there. The internet is mostly bad but it isn't all bad.
The "tower of longing for home." Goddamn. Adds some extra meaning to my travels to work, as "long for home" is the fundamental thought that runs through my mind every time I'm away from it for droll employment reasons.
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