SPDS

We live in a world of apprehension, a new age of uncertainty where terror and chaos sleek just around the corner. A world where someone might drop a plane on you or sneak in and take your job, where enemies peer at us in hate and envy through the gates of our democracy. … Well that at least is how Fox news makes it out.

But no one can deny we have security problems and concerns- terrorism , illegal immigration- we stand like Horatio at the bridge holding off the wild hordes. What can we do? How do we make the Republic safe from attack and illegal entry? What is the solution, more restrictions, martial law, cohorts of our Legions guarding airports and borders? The Lady in the Harbor holding up the sign CLOSED in place of her torch??

But fear not oh troubled citizens, the solution is just down the street, we have had it in South Philly all along. I call it the South Philly Defense System or SPDS. How does it work- the SPDS employs unseen forces and imaginary boundaries that keep people and things outside a neighborhood. It is the system that allows us to build with confidence a $400,000 home a street away from crack houses and criminal gangs, yes they don’t come around our way. Yes our way, not my way, our way, that collective phases that we in South Philly know to be pregnant with meaning, pregnant with the solutions to our problems. It keeps the wild hordes in their wild enclosures and allows us to make a happy life in the shadow of chaos.

What do I mean? let me draw your attention to a recent conversation I had with a much loved cousin, a women of some culture and great style, a women who understands her neighborhood. In a recent telephonic exchange. I mentioned that I would like to purchase an investment property in South Philadelphia as property values are very good. I was considering purchasing a shell in an upcoming area and restore it. I had identified a 3 bedroom row home at 15th and Reed for 5 figures. Capital, I thought ,15th and Reed just two blocks from 13th and Reed where the property rates for a 3 bedroom row home are 6 figures and climbing. Feeling bright and happy about my impending coup I spoke with my cousin. “What!” my cousin shouted at me- “15th and Reed are you Crazy (one always doubts sanity in SP when confronted with innovative behavior) It is SO bad you can’t go there.” “But..” I responded, “it is 15th and Reed you are at 12th and Reed 3 blocks and 350 meters away.” “Yes,” my cousin responded “but I don’t go around there, it’s so bad they have all kinds of drug addicts and criminals.” “But it is 2 blocks away from the great South Philly revival, as properties become scarcer and prices drive upward the house at 15th and Reed must increase in value.”
“Absolutely not” I was told “that neighborhood is terrible and hopeless.” Yes like Dante’s Hell Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate (abandon every hope, you who enter). As we say in South Philly.. I remained… I was stupefied, incredulity flooded my thoughts, “it can not be” I protested, “my investment vision is clear and based on hard facts and basic laws of physics and economics.” Still my cousin insisted, I asked her to go check it out, to cross the 2 blocks and see- “I’m not going there she said!” Never into that land , to quote more Dante, la città dolente… l'etterno dolore…la perduta gente ( the city of suffering, eternal sorrow and the lost people) . She spoke Ex cathedra- The neighborhood was very bad and she would never move the 300m meters to her left and set foot there, under any circumstances. My cousin then suggested we get together in Singapore or Rome in the future.. Yes we can not even remotely consider visiting 15th street from 12th street but I will come to the other side of the world and see you…….

If defies logic- How can such a thing be? For after all, were I an inhabitant of la città dolente on 15th street and knew that just 1 or 2 blocks away lived people in relative comfort and wealth with 6 figure homes and cars, I would simple walk the few steps to enhance my crime among a more affluent clientele. But alas, and here is the point, they don’t! Yes somehow in South Philly there exist a defense system that keeps the lost inhabitants (la perduta gente) away from those blessed occupants of the city of enhanced priced homes. I took additional council from real estate agents and other friends and relatives in South Philly, and was told the same thing, no 15th street ---very bad.

That’s the way it is in South Philly… That’s the SPDS.

While my idea of a home at 15th and Reed remains on hold I do reflect upon this story. And in an epiphany realize that between 13th and 15th street lies the answer to the Nation’s security problems. Were I president of the United States (it could happen) the second thing I would do after lifting the Cuban Embargo ( light ‘em up) would be to send a team to South Philly to study this phenomenon and find a way to adapt it for the nation. Just imagine , in southern California and Texas we wouldn’t need cohorts of troops or fences or even border guards. The forces that hold chaos in check along Reed street would function to stop illegal border crossing. Our airports would be safe for terrorist would be paralyzed by the same force that keeps the gangsters on 15th street off 13th street.. Condoleezza Rice can declare the nation safe and like some Connie from 12th street say with certainty- they don’t come around our way.


Of course I am unsure what forces come into play to allow this? A Spatial differentiation where matter is limited in its dimensional habitation? Perhaps it is some residue magic left over by the Delaware tribes that lived along the Passyung and Moremensing creeks in bygone days? Perhaps it is something to do with the soft clay beneath the city streets? Or the sprit of Frank Rizzo protecting the old neighborhood, a new Michael with a flaming sword over South Philly, or rather certain parts of it.

But it is there believe- why else would a person pay $400,000 for a house down the street from murderer’s row.

Of course the whole thing could be a mirage and based on false misguided interpretations and unsubstantiated fears, perhaps the bad neighborhoods are not so bad and la perduta gente not so lost, perhaps people in south Philly live there own version of the TV show LOST and are unaware of the true forces that control their universe? I know of people that immigrated to South Philly from Italy and after 40-70 years still could not speak English.. I know of people in South Philly that after 60 years have still never seen Allegany Avenue or Germantown or Chestnut Hill…. Could perhaps the SPDS be nothing more then the reflection of people’s own parochialism and insularism- we never go there -so they never come here.

Well after I am president and after the Cubans are smoking again, I shall send the brighest minds in the nation to investigate for I know we can harness the power of the South Philly Defense system..

The SPDS , defense for a new age of uncertainty.

Robert, rimembri ancora Quel tempo della tua vita mortale

I always think of him in May, the month that saw his birth and death. The sweet May that gave and took, as in the life of the Buddha.

We lived a half block apart and saw each other regularly from birth. My first strong memory of him was in the Capitolo Playground at 9th and Reed in 1963 when he was 6 and I but 5. He was 6 months older, which in that youthful time seemed a great difference. I remember that afternoon in the playground swinging with him while he told me his first plans for the future, the future that bekons to youth, his plan was to be a priest, or a firemen.

We bagain our education at the same time, in school his 6 months advance was nullified. We spent 8 years together at the Annunciation BVM Elementary school at 12th and Reed and an additional 4 years together in Bishop Neumann High School, both of us celebrating our graduation into the world in 1976.

By 1976 we were fast friends. We knew each other’s dreams, likes, and interests. As he worked at the Twin shop at 10th and Tasker, where I spent most of my free time in the 70’s, we seemed always together. My friend had a great gift for design and decoration and turned the Twin Shoppe windows into works of arts. His skills were appreciated and had he tried I believe he could have had a career in design.

My friend’s name was Robert, and he was my oldest friend as I turned to adulthood.

We had many memories and shared experiences from Kindergarten to 12th grade, not to mention birthdays, weddings, parties, for we were our own cumpare- or rather a 1970’s teenage version of it. Robert and I shared the harrowing number 40 trackless trolley ride to Bishop Neumann High School. We shared nights out , days off during snow storms, and evenings at the Twin shop with Tony Comatose and the brotherhood of the guys who hung at 10th and Tasker. I became friendly with his family and spent part of every holiday season at his house. He came from a very close knit clan and they had the greatest of family parties and food.

When adulthood came and snatched us from our south Philly safety nets- I to university and marriage and Robert to a career as a hairdresser, we still shared ideas and discoveries, nights out and at times a mutual waywardness.

During the summer of 1985 while I was on an historical tour of Italy for 3 months, Robert kept my wife company and free from boredom.

I even worked for Robert selling Easter flowers at 13th and Synder and 10th and Tasker, putting myself up as an expert on flora. We did good business and perhaps should have opened a flower and plant shop.

As the 80’s progressed we both became more involved with our personal lives and did not see each other with the frequency of older times.

Then came 1987 and Robert became ill, ill in a terrible progress of sickness; and it dawned upon me that Robert would not survive. Robert took his illness well, as did his family , and his last months while somber , were fill of friends and love.

During those last few months I spend as much time with Robert as I did when we were children at the Annunciation school or teenagers at Bishop Neumann High School.

I told him of my trips to Europe and the people I met, of things I was up to, we talked of our past, of the swing at the Capitolo play yard, and even of the future, as if talking of the future would erase the reality of the present.

The last time I saw him alive was a few days after his 29th birthday in May 1987, he was by then in the very arms of death and left us soon after (+Requiescat in Pace).

His funeral was majestic, with people from near and far , new friends and old family, and 6 strong men to carry his wooden coffin upon their shoulders - like that of a fallen prince. His older brother spoke an eulogy which used the song Moon River to illustrate aspects of Robert and his personality. An effective tribute, so effective that when I hear the song I think of Robert as if Breakfast at Tiffany’s or Audrey Hepburn never existed. A fitting testament, Robert loved good things and had style and would have approved of it all.

His treasured mother, to whom he was so close, carried herself with a profound dignity that was to me a source of great comfort.

Being from South Philly I have been to lots of funerals and wakes, but Robert’s was the most touching. Perhaps because he was so close in friendship and age, for in taking Robert Death’s angel brushed me with his wings.

I reflect on Robert every May. It has been 19 years since he died and nearly 43 years since the swings at the Capitolo playground. I can not say I still mourn for Robert, for so many years have come ,and so much has happened since he left. But I still think of him and try to remember as he was. This recalls a favorite poem- A Silvia by the poet Giacomo Leopardi. The poem reflects on the memories of the past through a remembrance of a girl Silvia who died many years ago. It is not a poem of lost love but of a lost age. I quote parts with my own comment.

A Silvia
by Giacomo Leopardi (note: my translation is more literal then poetic)

Silvia, rimembri ancora (Silvia, remembering again)
Quel tempo della tua vita mortale, (the time of your mortal life,)
Quando beltà splendea (when beauty still shone)
Negli occhi tuoi ridenti e fuggitivi,( in your sidelong, laughing eyes,)
E tu, lieta e pensosa, il limitare (and you, light and thoughtful,)
Di gioventù salivi? (went beyond youth’s limits)

Robert had beautiful green eyes , and remains in my memories always young, as he never grew old.

Allor che all'opre intenta (you sat, happily content,)
Sedevi, assai contenta (intent, on that work.)
Di quel vago avvenir che in mente avevi. (the vague future, arriving alive in your mind)
Era il maggio odoroso: e tu solevi (It was the scented May, and that’s how)
Così menare il giorno. (you spent your day.)

Robert was always content in what he did, with that vague future arriving in his mind in a scanted May. The scented May that gave and took.

Che pensieri soavi, (What sweet thoughts,)
Che speranze, che cori, o Silvia mia! (what hopes, what hearts, O Silvia mia!)
Quale allor ci apparia (How it appeared to us then,)
La vita umana e il fato! (all human life and fate!)
Quando sovviemmi di cotanta speme, (When I recall that hope)
Un affetto mi preme (such feelings pain me,)
Acerbo e sconsolato, ( harsh, disconsolate,)
E tornami a doler di mia sventura. ( I brood on my own destiny)
O natura, o natura, (Oh Nature, Nature)
Perché non rendi poi (why do you not give now)
Quel che prometti allor? perché di tanto (what you promised then? Why)
Inganni i figli tuoi? (do you so deceive your children?)

Why does Nature not give what it promises? Or are these promises our deceptions?

Tu pria che l'erbe inaridisse il verno, (Attacked, and conquered, by secret disease,)
Da chiuso morbo combattuta e vinta, ( the closed death fought and won)…
Anche negaro i fati (Fate has denied those years.),
La giovanezza. Ahi come, ( the youth ah how)
Come passata sei, ( you have passed from me)
Cara compagna dell'età mia nova, ( dear companion of my first age)
Mia lacrimata speme! (my tearful hope)
Questo è quel mondo? (Is this the world, the dreams)
questi I diletti, l'amor, l'opre, gli eventi (the loves, events, delights,)
Onde cotanto ragionammo insieme? (we spoke about so much together?)
Questa la sorte dell'umane genti? (Is this the fate of humanity?)
All'apparir del vero (At the advance of Truth)
Tu, misera, cadesti: e con la mano (you,unhappy one, fell, and with the hand )
La fredda morte ed una tomba ignuda (the cold death and the silent grave)
Mostravi di lontano (you show us from the distance)

This is my tribute to Robert Giangiordano (1958-1987).

Sleep peaceful Robert and dream of swings.

The Blood of the Volsungs or the Lesbian of Snyder Avenue

In Germanic mythology the Volsungs were the race of human heroes whose blood held the hope and heroism of mankind. The Volsungs twins Seigmund and Seiglinda produced Siegfried the greatest of heroes.

In modern literature Wagner told their story in his Ring operas and Thomas Mann in his short story The Blood of the Volsungs retold the story via two twins enamored of Wagner’s opera Die Walküre as well as each other.

But the Volsungs in old South Philly????

My Volsung tale is not a story of real incest but a story of a family that was so close they were, as the Volsungs.

The name was Comatose, well not Comatose but it sounded as such. The oldest was Tony and he lived with his brother Lou and two sisters named Angelina and Lucy in a row home on 10th street. No member of this family every married or had children or even dated, they lived together in the house where they were born and raised. After the deaths of their parents they existed as a family of 4 little orphans holding out together, protecting their Volsungs blood. These young orphans ranged in years from 45-55 when I knew them in the mid 70s. I knew this clan from my time at the Twin Shoppe at 10th and Tasker. Lou and Tony were charter members of the Brotherhood of the Guys who Hung at 10th and Tasker.

Lou was the more sociable of the brothers, he worked as a parts manager for a plumbing supply company. Manager was stretching it as he was the only member of his department. He possessed however an encyclopedic knowledge of plumbing parts and he could discern a washer ring seize with his eyes closed. Had knowledge of plumbing supply parts, instead of philosophical , literary , historical and ethical knowledge, been a ranking in the Ming dynasty Lou would have held the highest order with a ruby hat and 15 chair bearers , directly below the Son of Heaven

In practical terms however Lou was illiterate , a malady also shared by his two sisters. As he grew older he was subject to stress and nervous disorders, leading to a series of small nervous breakdowns. By the late 70’s he would only leave his house to go to work, only coming to the corner on the rarest of occasions. Enjoying the occasion holiday at hospital, yes he would in between nervous breakdowns check into a hospital for a few days of rest.?? Now I am not an expert on stress or nervous disorders, but what kind of stress could a man have who had nay wife nay children, nay bills and lived in the bosom of a family that took care of most of his needs , as well as unparalleled expertise in his career? Perhaps he was concerned that plumbing would go through a revolution in part manufacture and replacement? Perhaps the institution of plastic plumbing was a death knell for the traditional copper pipes he knew so well??? Since he could not read he could not so easily be re-tooled. This may have made Lou nervous.

Despite Lou’s expertise in plumbing parts and nervousness , brother Tony was the head of this clan of South Philly Volsungs. Tony was very much the typical South Philly guy of his age- as tall as he was round with a bald dome and a constant sneer. Tony held a position in a box factory doing something that is now done by a computer. He was, more fortunately then his siblings, somewhat literate, so I guess Tony was given the major roles in their Volsung commune, roles like reading the bills and the TV guide for everyone. Not withstanding his ability to read on a 5th grade level Tony had limited life experiences, limited even by the limitations of South Philly in the 1970’s. He did how ever, often speak with great authority about all kinds of things. This authority of opinion afforded him a sort of leadership role among the older men that every evening were the satellites of 10th and Tasker.

Tony held himself especially as an expert in human personalities and relationships. I recall an illustrative example of this self proclaimed expertise. There existed in the late 1970’s at 10th and Synder a colony of women considered to be from a Greek Island famed for its poetess Sapphro (the island, were your classical history Momentarily deficient, is Lesbos-hence its inhabitants are Lesbians). These followers of Sapphro, in the less open and declusive 70’s, were seen as something extraordinary by the older men of 10th and Tasker, and often the subject of discussion by Tony and his minions. One evening a member of the colony entered the Twin Shoppe. Tony led his minions thought the door to stare and gawk. The woman bore not even the hint of a Greek accent and was well dressed, attractive and spoke with a vocabulary suggesting a far better education then those surrounding her. Perhaps she was the first of the gentry to come to South Philly, a scout sent to investigate the suitability of South Philly for Gentry colonization or Gentrification? The girl was cognitive of the audience she had and after her purchase exited in a grand way with sweeping glances and smiles. Her exit elicited a number of comments from the men of the corner, all to be silenced by Tony Comatose who then pontificated on the girl and the nature of her sexuality. Tony could tell with one glance that she was a Lesbian, that was for sure, he also knew that she was attracted to men, that like Broad street she went in both directions. This extra information was discerned by Tony because the girl had turned and smiled at him, proof positive of her amorous view of men. Tony then went on to say the women was not a full member of the Lesbos sisterhood, but had been co-opted into associate membership following ill treatment by a man. Having been heartbroken and unlucky in an affair with a man she then turned to her own sex for comfort, this Tony pronounced with the authority of the late economist John Kenneth Galbraith discussing the affluent society. Tony when on to expand his ideas , men must be careful in their relations with women for if we hurt them then they will turn to Lesbianism, all said to the nodding heads and ahs of his audience. How Tony who could hardly read, never left the neighborhood , and at the age of 55 was , I strongly believe , still a virgin , able to discern or understand another’s sexuality is an additional profound mystery of my youth. Perhaps the situation he and his siblings lived in granted Tony sensitivity and a level of perception to recognizing alternative lifestyles.

The Snyder avenue woman was not impressed as we never saw her again, wonder why???

Of Tony’s sisters neither held a job outside the home but they were experts at frying food and cleaning a house they hardly ever left except to shop for more food to fry.

What ever these four were really up to defies human understanding. They were our own Volsungs, protecting their blood, keeping their family unit in place and undisturbed despite the advance of age. I wonder what sort of child these Volsungs would have produced were they so inclined? Would they have created South Philly’s first Guido Hero? An Italo American Siegfrido capable of lifting the Melrose dinner on its side and cleaning 9th street in one afternoon?

This Volsung family enjoyed their little kibbutz and lived secure in their ignorance , happy in between nervous disorder while protected their blood of the Volsungs.

Tony remained 10th and Tasker’s own Pontifix Maximus and augur of the various signs sent to us by heaven.