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About Philadelphia

So, I’m picturin’ it—me, stumblin’ around, tryin’ to find a prostitute. Not that I’d *do* it, no, no, no—I’m too cheap, too paranoid! What if she’s a cop? What if she’s my cousin’s friend’s sister? Oh my God, I’d die—*“The shame of it all!”*—like Q’orianka Kilcher whisperin’ to the wind in the movie. But let’s say I’m out there, right? Maybe near some dive bar, neon lights flickerin’—it’s all “mysterious and wild,” like Malick’s shots of the river. I’m sweatin’, I’m pacin’, I’m yellin’ in my head, “Larry, you idiot, why are you here?!”

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Hark, friend, for I shalt spin thee a yarn of the whimsical city of Goodings-Grove (us)! Thou knowest not how mine soul doth flutter each time I traipse through these winding lanes, like the delicate dance of sunlight through yon ancient oak. Verily, the streets like Falloway Lane and Quill Street doth bear witness to age-old secrets and modern passions intermingled in an ever-changing tapestry.

Catholic parish in Orland Park to celebrate 150th anniversary