Tuesday
Wednesday
July 15, 2009 from 8pm to 9:45pm – Helium Comedy Club
Thursday
July 16, 2009 at 8pm to July 18, 2009 at 11:45pm – Helium Comedy Club
Friday
Wednesday
July 22, 2009 from 8pm to 9:45pm – Helium Comedy Club
July 22, 2009 from 8pm to 9:45pm – Helium Comedy Club
Thursday
July 23, 2009 at 8pm to July 25, 2009 at 11:45pm – Helium Comedy Club
Friday
July 24, 2009 from 8pm to 11pm – Ridley Creek State Park
Monday
July 27, 2009 from 6:30pm to 8:30pm – Helium Comedy Club
31 members
24 members
20 members
18 members
15 members
11 members
10 members
8 members
8 members
7 members
7 members
7 members
6 members
6 members
6 members
5 members
5 members
4 members
4 members
4 members



Singer-guitarist Ben Kweller, now 27, is a music biz veteran, having released albums both with his old band Radish and as a solo artist since he was 13. He's been a punk rocker, indie rocker, power-popster, and balladeer, and for his fourth solo LP, Changing Horses, he dives headfirst into much rootsier fare. We hit an upbeat Kweller up for a session of Review the Reviews, wherein we read excerpts from recent reviews and get the reaction of the reviewed.
"Changing Horses, his self-produced fourth LP, isn't quite the country & western crossover most would have you believe, more like the dirt road connecting his previous paths. (Austin Chronicle)
"Right! I mean, the album's way more Jackson Browne than Merle Haggard. Country music and roots music has always been one of the side roads that I take once in a while, and for this album I wanted to make it the main road."
"He's nodded to his Texas roots before, but on this collection meant to play up his twangy side, he seems scared of edging too far into the darkness of country music's long, rich tradition." (Paste)
"Hmm. Whatever. They don't know me. I mean, I opened the album with a whore and ended it with a junkie. I don't need to explain too much. I don't need to prove anything to anybody."
" ... the best is 'On Her Own,' a number in praise of female self-determination with a precise, pedal-steel-driven chorus that would fit nicely on a Faith Hill or Brad Paisley album." (Rolling Stone)
"That's really cool that they would even reference that shit because it's so far from ... I'm obviously not a Nashville pop-country guy. But the whole thing about this album is that all of a sudden there are people in the country side of the business that are finding out about me for the very first time. So for Rolling Stone to even say something like that, I'm psyched. I'm over the whole indie-hip--I just feel like I paid my dues for so fuckin' long in the indie-rock world that if my stuff took off in country, that'd be really exciting and refreshing."
Watch Jeff Fusco's slideshow from the funeral.
It was a fearfully cold day, and thousands of police officers marched past the memorial squad car for yet another fallen officer. They shared the same small steps, the same grave looks, the same stiff backs. They marched into the Basilica of Saints Peter and Paul past a sea of fellow well-wishers who stood outside, cheeks red and cold in the wind. They marched inside until the Basilica was nearly filled with people; those left outside stood solemnly during the Catholic funeral of Officer John Pawlowski.
After the service, the officers marched out, same as before, then police cars zoomed off in an endless line. The hearse carrying Officer Pawlowski was followed by a phalanx of motorcycles and sparkling white cars from the Police Department. The motorcade went up I-95, toward the neighborhoods where the grid system breaks down, where so many of the police officers live in stout postwar houses near the Delaware. (Pawlowski still lived where he grew up, in Parkwood Manor, a stone's throw from the suburbs.)
The procession swept past officers and firefighters on overpasses, past officers paying their respects in solemn roadside salutes. It went into the suburbs and by the schools and strip malls on Street Road. It went through fire-truck arches and past bikers holding American flags in the brisk February winds. Finally, it went through the gates of Resurrection Cemetery.
Yet the number of police officers who memorialize their fallen brother or sister seems to grow each time. The services, the procession, the officers at the cemetery--it all seems like more this time. Even actor David Morse, the guy who played a former Philadelphia cop in the TV show Hack, stands against a light pole outside the church. With each loss, the department grows stronger.
Enormous groups of police personnel gathered in John Pawlowski's memory last week. They lined the pews at St. Anselm's in Parkwood on Monday night. They marched down Academy Road on Thursday at dusk to the funeral home for the wake. They processed in and out of the Basilica and stood still at the cemetery as the cold wind swept across the hillsides lined with headstones. The fierce, consistent presence is an impressive show of unity. It shuts down streets; it silences cities.
They are feared and comforting, loathed and respected. They are always late and always on time. They inspire strong emotions.
So it's fitting the police funeral has become such a spectacle. Police Commissioner Charles Ramsey came here from Chicago, where police funerals almost stop time. He felt Philly needed more pomp and circumstance. He wanted to march with the mayor to the funeral home for the wake; he wanted police recruits to dot the road to the gravesite; he wanted the horse-drawn carriages and the symbolic reminders that one good man is missing.
At the cemetery, helicopters flew overhead in a missing-man formation. Police officers from the 35th District signed off Officer John Pawlowski for the last time: "From members of the 35th District and your entire police family, we thank you for a job well done."
The words of the service, the procession of cars, the final words at the cemetery are ritual and tradition, done the same way many times over the last few months.
But they are done with a precision that shows great care. The pallbearers practiced in the days leading up to Pawlowski's funeral by carrying a casket stuffed with dumbbells. When the time came, they marched despite the cold weather. The spectacle of it all is maybe the most uplifting thing the police department does. They just do it right.
![]() Neal Santos
|
This Fourth of July weekend, 22-year-old Raheem Rowell will be cooking out with family he hasn't seen since his deployment — he spent last year shuttling detainees all over Iraq in Blackhawk helicopters. Tim Stanton, who just turned 20, will enjoy the Fourth at the Jersey shore before he ships out to Baghdad to train Iraqi police. And Northeast Philly's Dave Marris, 50, will be thinking about his wife and kids this weekend while drinking tea with locals in western Afghanistan.
More than 1.5 million Americans have fought in this country's two ongoing wars. While public interest and news coverage in Iraq and Afghanistan have waxed and waned, these volunteers have continued to stream to and from the battlefield. They'll continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
Much (although not enough) attention has been given to the fallen soldiers of Operations Enduring Freedom (OEF) and Iraqi Freedom (OIF). Military suicide, and those suffering traumatic injuries and post-traumatic stress disorder, are also, rightfully, topics of interest. But there are others who've served, and sacrificed. They're struggling to re-establish their lives under the threat of being called back; they're working to re-engage with a civilian world that we, their neighbors, take for granted.
Here are 13 such people from the region. Our thanks to these vets for their time, the photographs you see here and, of course, their service.
...
Mark Stehle
|
Business sizzles on warm summer evenings at traditional-format outdoor cheesesteak stands in greater Philly, where an overstuffed agenda of grilled meat, escaping the heat and seeing and being seen cooks up a festive boardwalk vibe.
I know this because I spent most of last summer visiting cheesesteak stands to write my new Great Philly Cheesesteak Book (Running Press, $15.95), a comprehensive guidebook to our city's favorite food, including history, recipes and the stories behind some of the area's favorite steakeries.
My book does not rank the stands. Still, after eating cheesesteaks at more than 50 local shops, it's hard not to have an opinion on what makes a great steak: a fresh roll that's neither too hard nor too flabby; cheese that is noticeable but not overwhelming; meat that has the chew of steak without being tough or gristly; onions that are neither raw nor so caramelized as to resemble ketchup; and for all four of these elements to alchemize into a taste and texture that is distinctively and uniquely cheesesteak.
The biggest surprise of this book project was how many cheesesteaks lived up to my ideal and how few were truly junk food. In fact, probably no more than half a dozen steaks were so greasy as to require the famous "Philly lean" (that is, holding the steak out in front of you so the grease falls on the ground instead of on your shoes and clothes).
No, I'm not going to name those names, nor am I going to tell you things you probably already know, like that Pat's, Geno's, Dalessandro's, Tony Luke's, John's Roast Pork, Steve's Prince of Steaks and Chink's are worth checking out. Even the casual student of local cheesesteak culture has also probably heard of rising stars like Sonny's Famous, the Grey Lodge Pub, Johnny's Hots and Talk of the Town.
The following list, i...
© 2009 Created by Harry B. Cook