I had lived in Philadelphia for a couple of months before it occurred to me to make my way to the Philadelphia Art Museum. I took the subway from South Philly (or “Rocky-ville,” as I often called it) most of the way, then walked a mile or so until I caught a glimpse of the famed steps. If you’ve seen ROCKY, you know the steps I mean. Check the end of this post to see them in all their glory.

I began to jog. The brilliant Bill Conti music coursed through my mind, and I even made it a point to sing along. (“Duh-nuh-DAAA! Duh-nah-DUHH!”) I thought about Sylvester Stallone, and what he went through to get his beloved script made into a movie, and how hard he fought to play the lead role. I thought about Rocky Balboa, and how he broke legs for the mob and ate raw eggs and fed his turtles and lucked his way into glory and made his body do things it probably shouldn’t have been able to do. Those thoughts changed the jog into a run.

And then I was there, at the base of the steps. I took them three at a time, my eyes at all times on the gleaming silver Rocky statue that, in 1993, stood at the top of those steps, right where Sly finished his run and threw his arms skyward in triumph and pride. I made it to the top, turned around a hundred and eighty degrees, and mimicked Sly’s gesture, fists thrust as high as I could get them, still jogging in place, admiring the view – cloudless sky, very little traffic, skyscrapers reflecting the fading sunlight.

From behind me, I heard: “Another asshole.”

I looked back. Two clearly homeless men, sharing a bottle of something, were hunched in a collapse at the base of the Rocky statue. They were laughing.

I walked home.

Don't let two assholes steal your light, Frank.

Keep these tales coming!

David, you missed the point. The story demonstrated Frank was the asshole

A complete asshole?

Opinions vary.

Rocky would've punched those guys out. Or would that be Rambo?

Hmmmmm.

Cool story, Frank.

Not a Rocky fan at all, but the story still worked for me. That's good writing.

Thanks, Matt.

This might help, Matt. If you can get through this scene without your pulse rate rising, you're in trouble.



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I'm a ROCKY purist, but I think I like the training sequence from ROCKY II a little better. The support from the South Philly residents -- especially the folks at the Italian market and the kids who join him in his run -- is 100% believable. That whole community was just a wonder to behold.

I miss Philadelphia a lot tonight, for some reason.

I could go for a Phillie Cheese Steak right now.

The statue wasn't there when I lived in Philly in '91. When did they put it back? Oh, and I did the same thing.

Monday is Equity dark day, so it's the only day Equity actors have off. We all ran toward to Philly Art Museum with much anticipation, only to discover that Monday is the only day the museum is not open.

We hackey sacked on the spot, went down to South Street, and got a whole lot a nuthin' done.

Got me. But it was there in '93. I've now read that it got bounced around quite a bit while people argued about whether it was "art" or not -- there's a horse shit argument right there -- and it's now back in its rightful place, where I first saw it.



That's what South Street is for.

Good times.

What he said.

Except it's "Philly". And "cheesesteak" is one word.

And I somehow failed to post the video. Hmm.

Here you go:

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bump, because I'm contemplating a return visit to Philly after 13 years.

That's funny because the girl I dated when I lived in Philly just contacted me by email and we're old pals once again. Been stirrin' up lots o' memories. Good ones, all of 'em.

Gregg is looking forward to seeing you at the reunion.

You ARE still coming, right?

Got my tix. My sister in law has 3 buddy passes waiting. Meeting Lisa, Cyndi, and Gary each for drinks at SOME point during the weekend.

I think Dave had it correct. Good story, by the way.

Much obliged, Flasher.

(Although I can see their point.)

I'm not the only one.