Dear Philly 

FYI this kinda ryhmes and it kinda doesn’t and it’s kinda sappy but it’s also kinda cool so…enjoy.

Dear Philly,

I love you. I’ll just come right out and say it.

Sounds shocking, I know, but I swear to you, I mean it. Maybe I fled from your grid too soon, moved on to Beantown without thinking things through. I thought I was ready, thought I’d had enough, thought I’d seen, heard, tasted and explored every block and every corner from Front Street to 30th, Walnut to Spruce.

Of course you know I love your food, your cheesesteaks wiz witout, George’s water ice, roast beef and broccoli rab, late night soft pretzels and Chickie’s crab fries. Fountain sodas taste better from a gas station called Wawa and I know for a fact that a hoagie is not a cold sub or hot grinder.

But it’s been great to be back and I’m thankful for that. For the home that you gave me and the memories I would never give back. For the beauty in your buildings and the history in your paths, for even your dreariest grey days and terribly noisy traffic delays. You’ve taught me to love and to accept, to understand and to care. I’ve embraced your deep forest greens and your bright red and blues, your mediocre Dunkin Donuts and your Meek Milly tunes.

You’re one of a kind, unlike any other. You’ve got attitude and spunk, grace, glory and Nutter. Your run-down old neighborhoods each tell a different story, from the tattered, yellowed pages of an old book with a spine that is sturdy. Your parks, schools and gardens each vibrant and lively, are home to the children who will soon make your streets mighty. Each urban mural painted proudly with love, tell of histories and dreams, surely seen from above.

You’re rough around the edges, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Your potential is great, your people complex; artists and dreamers, musicians and students and workers and teachers. And to the guys in the windows at Pats, Genos and Larrys, I’ll tell you right now, you’re really not all that scary.

Philly, You’ve made me strong; confident, fearless and tough. For that and so much more, I can’t thank you enough. You get a bad rep, that’s certainly true, some love to hate you and I’ll admit there are times when even I hate to love you.

But I’m not done with you yet. I’ll be back soon enough. For a stroll by the Schuylkill or a StrEATfest in ‘Yunk. For a visit to Hawk Hill, game 1 in Hagan Arena, to see family and friends, and drink margs at Cactus Cantina.

And Boston’s been great, please don’t get it twisted. Forever a dream that very quickly came to fruition. I’m seeing new sights and meeting new people, exploring new paths, eating soup dumplings and meatballs, lamb shawarma and pizza. I’m learning the lingo, I’ve mastered the T, discovering quaint coffee shops from Cambridge to Southie. Rittenhouse or Beacon Hill, clam chowder or cheesesteaks I really can’t complain, you’re different but the same.

So Philly, I love you and Boston, you too. There’s room for you both in my heart, as my home.

With (brotherly) love,


oh and PS, here’s an article you should read about love and support and a program that Will Never Die, even after they lose.


a green smoothie that doesn’t suck

This month I’m keen on green and if I can’t get my fix from grassy fields and leaves on trees (you know, because snow), I’ll have to get creative. From Mint Mojito nails to frothy green shakes, I’m loading up on green stuff where ever I can (yes, that includes McDonald’s Shammy Shakes. There’s always next month to start a real diet) and channeling some seriously positive spring time vibes.

After far too many failed attempts, I finally found a green smoothie that surprisingly tastes nothing like a liquified version of my grandmothers vegetable garden (dirt included). Better yet, it’s my own concoction so you’re not finding it anywhere else but here (maybe).

Here’s what you’ll need:

  • 2 cups partially chopped kale (no stems)
  • 1 serving vanilla Greek yogurt
  • 1 banana frozen or fresh
  • 3/4 cup unsweetened Almond milk
  • 1/4 cup (handful or more) frozen pineapple
  • Scoop of honey fresh from the farm

Blend it all up, pour it a mason jar, store it in the fridge overnight and enjoy in the AM as desired! I had a little bit before my morning ride for a quick boost of energy and saved the rest for afterwords to enjoy at my desk. It’s certainly no Shamrock Shake, but it’s a close second. Yes, that’s right, I’m saying I’d much rather be drinking a Shammy for breakfast, is anyone surprised?

Happy March people, spring will be here before we know it, hang in there!