Finders Keepers for Friends in Fishtown
The State of the Paper
Spring seems to be fighting its way into our lives once again. Sunshine actually warms you up and the thermometer’s mercury seems to be once again trying to make someone’s day. In this change of seasons, I am continuing to write everyday. I have found a goal of 300 words a day gets me writing and keeps me writing past it. Because of this I have made substantial progress on the novel I am working on. I won’t make you sit through a whole prolonged diatribe on it just yet. Needless to say it has some hiking and some horror adjacent elements, oh and a healthy look at grief and its impact on relationships. All the fun stuff you could think of. That’s all to say, it’s still very much a work in progress. But enough about me, we have a whole paper to get to. Like last time, the second part of Nick’s Red Devil Motel will round this paper out.
Until next time my dear readers.
-Niall
A Second Home
On January 12th I set out on my bike armed with an N-95 and a good pair of work gloves. My destination was my wife’s cousin’s new house in Fishtown. The goal, or so I thought when I started the morning, was to help clean and clear out stuff from the newly purchased row home. The previous owners had passed and the descendants, instead of taking the time to go through everything, decided it was easier if it was sold as is. So, a better price, but with the hassle of cleaning up.
I arrived and had my expectations instantly realigned. The house had a lot more stuff than I expected. Think closer to a hoarding house than a Marie Kondo house. We also were not really cleaning up, we were there to take anything we wanted. The cousin had a junk removal team coming the next day, so whatever we didn’t take would be going to who knows where, most likely a landfill.
The scene from one of the rooms.
With the stage set lets introduce the fearless cast that waded through the mounds of memories and mementos. We have me, your inquisitive narrator and journalist; Lynn, my mother-in-law and a self-proclaimed antiques aficionado; Aunt (in-law) Julie, a sharp witted hunter of reading material for her grand kids; Zach and Kimmie, the new homeowners, not thrilled to have a new project as well as a one year old.
The smell of years worth of cigarette smoke was evident from the wallpaper, if not from the tinge it had left in the air. I stashed my bike in the already full entryway and took a wide-eyed tour of the place. As Lynn would say later, “you had to move things, to move things to get to the thing you were trying to get to.”
Starting in a bedroom, previously occupied by a boy of undeterminable age I got to work scavenging. I found Yu-Gi-oh cards right next to Slipknot CDs and college course material. Opening a dresser drawer I found a stash of old video games. I quickly had to grab a cardboard box to store my finds in. I built out a collection of books and games that any kid would love to have growing up, which was the goal. I wanted this stuff to have a new life with Zach and Kimmie’s nephews, and their own kid too.
Drawn by tales of even more stuff, Lynn and I braved the basement stairs and entered a tool lovers paradise. Screwdrivers spilled from boxes. Measuring tapes littered the space. There was a silver impact driver that required both of my hands to wield. I had to shut off the small raccoon part of my brain that wanted to take each and every bit of metal in the basement. I forced open a cabinet and found a fortune of work wear things. From Carhartt coveralls to thick leather gloves, the more I pulled out from the cabinet, the further my jaw fell. I filled two large black trash bags with clothes and before that was even done I had started a list of who I could share it with.
As of right now I have been able to find new homes for everything that has been cleaned. I like to believe the old owner, a grounds keeper for the Catholic Cemeteries Archdiocese of Philadelphia, would be happy that his well loved gear is finding second owners to love them just as much. Finding news in the trash is what PTP is all about.
One of the pieces that I was able to rehome.
Ruth’s Book Corner
I have been cooking up a monster review in my little laboratory. It is not quite done yet so I have a little something to tide you over until it is. John Steinbeck, a powerhouse of 20th century American literature, is probably known by every middle or early high school student in the country. Even though I didn’t have to read The Grapes of Wrath or Of Mice and Men, I certainly knew who Steinbeck was. Or at least I thought I knew who Steinbeck was. In the back of my mind I told myself I would get to Steinbeck one day or another, but was expecting a “dry classic” when I did.
Enter Cannery Row. On a terribly brisk afternoon, I opened a birthday present and found a glossy red cover staring back at me. My friend, a rather lustrous white-tailed deer with impeccable book recommendations, watched me over a white paper cup. I was excited to have a pocket sized edition, it felt much more approachable than the East of Eden tome that sits on my shelf. I first read the title as Canary Row and wasn’t corrected of this misconception until months later when it was the answer to a question on Jeopardy.
Cannery Row is a beautiful flowing tale of a group of guys that want to throw a party. It’s more complicated than that because there is some frog hunting that goes on. I joke, but the plot isn’t what drives the book. Steinbeck manages to weave gorgeous lines with punchy humor that underline this snapshot of a working coastal neighborhood in Monterey, California. With characters that are vibrant and scenes that move you, I couldn’t think of a better introduction to this literary powerhouse. I came away from the book truly in awe at the writing, and hungry for more Steinbeck.
-Ruth
Red Devil Motel: Part 2
The Red Devil Motel Series has been omitted here. You can read all of them over on the Substack.