Michelle – Chapter 16 – Epilogue – Part 1

“Every man dies. Not every man lives.” – HCW

Michelle and I have kept in touch since she moved to San Francisco to live with Dave. She found a good job and has even been promoted. She’s doing really well in her career. It seems pretty fast paced so she’s a busy lady. I met Michelle when she was 27. She is now 37 years old. We’ve known each other for over a decade now, but somehow it seems a lot longer. I suppose having a rich history together helps.

Michelle and Dave have lived out in San Fran for over three years now. They finally got married in 2016. He still works at the same job, and like I said she’s killing it in her job. We keep in touch through texting and sometimes use face time on our phones. Our friendship has transcended time and space.

They have no children yet, and I don’t know what their plan is in that department. We all know that the deal breaker between Michelle and I was that I didn’t want marriage and kids so she was out. I’m sure like every white couple in their thirties that have known each other for 20 years, they’re “trying.”

I never understand that about people. If you really want kids, throw the switch and make it happen. It’ll all work out. It’s easy. You can’t build a computer in an elevator but you can make a kid! Just get on with it! That’s what you wanted. The American Dream.

I did it and it worked out and I didn’t even want it. I love my Lorelei. She is a shaft of golden light through the darkness of my marriage and my life.

The housing market in San Francisco is some of the most expensive property in the country. Although Michelle and Dave are doing well, they are slowly being priced out of the market due to rising real estate prices and gentrification. So they may have to return to the east coast in the next year or so.

So there’s that little twist to the story. (Stop it. Not going to anything.)

Since she moved out West, Michelle has had to hide her friendship with me from Dave. He wouldn’t approve. I get it. Would I want my wife talking to her ex-boyfriend? Probably not. I’m pretty secure in myself though. It’s not like I’m talking to her to get her back. That’s simply not the case. Michelle and I have been friends longer than we were ever lovers. Our romantic relationship only lasted about two and a half years, but our friendship has lasted ten years! So in reality, she’s just keeping in touch with her friend back in Philly. She does that with all of her other friends back here so I’m just one of them. But I’m sure Dave wouldn’t see it like that, so she keeps me a secret. Dave thinks I’m ancient history for over five years now. (I still love that my pimp hand is strong nationwide. Kidding!)

Michelle lives a pretty clean and healthy life out there in the land of fruits and nuts. But whenever Dave has to go out-of-town she is usually drinking wine, smoking cigarettes and face timing with me. It’s like the kids in catholic school when I was growing up. They are held down so strictly, and when they’d got loose, they’d go crazy. Sometimes I think it’s that way for Michelle. But in the long run, living a healthier life will extend her life and she’ll feel better, and think more clearly. But not being able to be who you really are can create some long-term problems. But people are very adaptable. People evolve and change. A healthy clean life for Michelle may be her simply growing up.

I really believe that.

I’ve gotten the advice from some of my friends that what we’re doing is wrong. But based on what I know about those friends lives, I’d never listen to what they think I should do. They’ve made plenty of bad choices, and I’ll do what I want. It ends when Michelle says so, and not before. She’s the boss of that. No one knows what my life is, or was with Michelle and neither do you.

That belongs to us, and only us.

Michelle makes the final call on us and nobody else.

She’s been back to Philly a few times since she moved out west. Normally she swings by the city around the holidays. In 2014 she was around one evening. It was a lovely but bittersweet encounter. She was overcome with emotion. She had been spending the afternoon with several of her old friends, and I was the last stop. (Deal with it) We went to 1 Tippling Place for a drink before stopping at Crow and the Pitcher for another. She was supposed to go to her friend Gloria’s house and sleep over and then they were to have breakfast, but it didn’t quite play out that way.

She ended up sleeping on my sofa. Nothing happened, but she was pretty hung over the next morning. She got up and took an UBER down to Gloria’s the next morning for breakfast. Gloria was a little miffed, but Michelle’s time was limited. I later met up with her at 30th Street Station. She was going to take the train down to Delaware to see what I’m assuming was her family. She was a nervous wreck. So we sat at the Bridgewater Cafe and threw back a few chardonnays to take the edge off.

I put her on the train and off she went.

In 2015 she visited again around the holidays. She was unsure what time she’d be in the city. I was at McGlinchey’s drinking with Johnny R. She rolled in at one point and we all sat at a table by the door. It was nice. Johnny and I took turns playing songs on the jukebox, and we were all drinking and smoking cigarettes. It was just like old times. I played “Fly Me To The Moon,” and Michelle and I got up and danced in the aisle next to the bar. (Which was a sweet moment I get to wrap myself up in like a warm blanket.) Here we are in the shittiest bar in Philly and we bring the elegance and power just like always.

That was a glorious moment with my love.

Later, Johnny left and I walked down Chestnut Street towards 17th with Michelle. I think she told her people she was staying at her friend Susan’s house. But in reality she had booked a room at the Club Quarters. We took her bags up to the room. She was supposed to meet Susan for dinner, and said if I was around later we could meet up for a drink.

I went to Wawa and got a sandwich. I was starving, because eating anything from McGlinchey’s is always a health risk. I went back to my office at One Penn Center on JFK Boulevard and ate my sandwich and drank some box wine I kept there. (Cheap ass, but Mad Men style!)

She texted me about and hour and a half later. I met her at Club Quarters. She wanted to get a cocktail somewhere. We stopped in AKitchen on 18th Street. We chatted and enjoyed our drinks, just like we always did. Stories were told, memories refreshed, and cigarettes smoked. She said she should probably go back to her room. I walked her to the entrance of the hotel.

“Wanna come up?”

God Damn it.

So I ended up sleeping over that night. There was some playful moments, but I don’t think Michelle knew what she wanted that night. I probably should have gone home. We had planned on meeting for breakfast the next morning. But when the new day dawned she just wanted to go back to her family. She was feeling guilty about spending too much time with me again. So I guess I was dining alone that day.

I walked her to the parking garage and we went to her car. She pulled out of the lot and I got out. We said our goodbyes and I told her not to worry, and that nothing had happened. Just like I always do.

But nothing really happened.

Once again, my former queen disappeared into the morning light.

I ended up dining alone at Rachael’s alone. (Breakfast is always cheap and glorious despite your circumstances)

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

Instagram: @phicklephilly       Facebook: phicklephilly      Twitter: @phicklephilly

 

Tales of Rock – Jim Morrison in Concert

“You’re all a bunch of idiots. What are you gonna do about it?” Then he said: “Let’s see a little skin, let’s get naked.”

Jim Morrison was one of the most charismatic singers in the history of rock music. He was a smart man and had a genius-level I.Q. of 149. Morrison was a great poet and was known for using spoken word poetry passages during his live performances. Jim would sing and then talk with the crowd. He was a social rebel that suffered from severe drug and alcohol abuse.

Morrison had the ability to spark riots and shifted the behavior of a crowd with his intense emotional sound. For this reason, Jim became a target for music censorship and was closely monitored by the U.S. government. He was accompanied by police on stage during many venues.

Jim Morrison was known for making wild and outrageous remarks during shows. One of the most infamous cases occurred on December 9, 1967, while The Doors performed at the New Haven Arena in Connecticut. During the concert Morrison was arrested by local police and became the first rock star to be taken off stage during a live performance. On the day in question, Morrison was discovered kissing a fan in the shower before the concert. A police officer found the couple and told them to separate, so Morrison responded “Eat it.” The policeman warned Morrison with mace saying “Last chance” to which he replied, “Last chance to eat it.” In response, the officer sprayed Jim Morrison in the face with the mace.

The New Haven concert was delayed for an hour so Jim could recover, but the event made him extremely angry. During The Doors first set Morrison suddenly broke into an obscenity-laced tirade to the audience and explained what had happened backstage. He verbally abused the New Haven police, so they arrested him. After Morrison was taken off stage the crowd began to riot. The violence spilled from the gates of the New Haven Arena into the streets.

Over the next couple years the behavior of Jim Morrison became more erratic and unpredictable. On March 1, 1969, The Doors gave their most controversial performance at the Dinner Key Auditorium in Miami. During the show Morrison began to preach messages of peace and hate. He taunted the crowd by screaming “You’re all a bunch of idiots. What are you gonna do about it?” Then he said: “Let’s see a little skin, let’s get naked.” In response, people began to take off their clothing, including Morrison. Jim was later convicted of indecent exposure. He turned down a plea bargain from the Miami police who agreed to drop the charges if The Doors performed a free concert.

The Doors gave there last public performance with Jim Morrison at The Warehouse in New Orleans on December 12, 1970. During the show, Morrison experienced a breakdown on stage and slammed the microphone numerous times into the floor until the platform beneath was destroyed. He then sat down on the ground and refused to perform for the remainder of the show. The event caused The Doors to end their live acts, citing their mutual agreement that Morrison was ready to retire from performing.

Morrison joined his then girlfriend Pamela Courson in Paris in March 1971, at an apartment he had rented on the rue Beautreillis (in the 4th arrondissement of Paris on the Right Bank). In letters he described going for long walks through the city, alone. During this time, he shaved his beard and lost some of the weight he had gained in the previous months. He died on July 3, 1971 at age 27. He was found by Courson in a bathtub at his apartment. The official cause of death was listed as heart failure,although no autopsy was performed, as it was not required by French law.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Clarice – Chapter 2 – New Years Eve Brunch

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

On our first date, Clarice had said she wanted to go to see Rogue One with me. I agreed. We were to meet that Saturday and check it out.

I was on my way to somewhere, and I stopped at the salon. I was chatting with Trish. People were asking about the holiday hours that were posted at the counter. “You’re covering my shift this Saturday, right?”  She said.

I was caught completely off guard.

“Yea, remember you said you’d work for me this saturday, because I’m going home Friday to see my aunt and uncle and my parents for the holiday.”

I’m looking at my phone in my calendar. I don’t see it. I put everything in my calendar for just this reason.

“I’m supposed to see Rogue One…” Obviously not the answer Trish was looking for.

“I don’t see it in my calendar. Was I drunk when we made this plan?”

“I don’t know when you’re drunk!”

“Are you saying I’m drunk all the time?”

“No!” Trish looks like she’s about to cry. “I guess I can see my aunt and uncle next year…”

“Settle down. hang on. I’m going to make a phone call.”

I step out of the salon and go into the empty space next door. (It hasn’t been rented for three years) I call Clarice. Great thing is, being an older person she actually answers her phone. I explain my dilemma, and how I’ve got a friend and co-worker ready to squirt some tears in the salon. Clarice is completely understanding. I actually was happy to pick up the hours. I can go see Rogue One anytime. It would probably have been packed anyway.

I want to see her again, so I reach out to her a week later. I lock her down for brunch on New Years Eve. I’ve never been a fan of New Years anything, so it’s nice if I can do something during the day and then go home by nightfall. That’s when all of the amateur animals come out.

Saturday rolls around and I head to Jones. It’s a Stephen Starr restaurant at 8th and Chestnut. I forgot how noisy of a place it was. Hard surfaces and a high ceiling. They serve a lot of comfort food, and the place is decked out in 1970’s decor. It’s one in the afternoon and the place is swinging. I check my coat and wait for her. She appears on time. You know I like that.

She looks really good. Hair looks amazing. Those flowing raven tresses. Leather jacket, jeans and boots. Hot.

“Wow this place is busy. Are we even going to be able to get a table?” she says.

“We do when I have a reservation.”

The hostess takes us to our table. I’m happy to be here. I haven’t set foot in this place in over three years. We’re chatting and looking at the menus. I really dig their mac and cheese. So I suggest we share a bowl of that with a side of siracha. She agrees.

The server comes back. Clarice goes with a glass of prosecco, and I do a Yards Pale Ale. I put in for the mac n’ cheese, and let her order first. She’s not ready, but asks me to go first. I tell her I’ll speak slowly to give her more time. I go with the puffy french toast.

“That’s what I was going to order! I’ll have that too.” she says

“Should I order something else?”

“You should, so we can share.” Her again with the controlling. (This is eventually probably going to be a problem)

Am I imagining this? Am I being over sensitive? I’ll allow it. I decide to go with the Quiche. Because  I love quiche and I’m a real man. I looked at it before and it was my second choice after the french toast. At least it’ll be healthier.

“That was my second choice!” she quips. (Hmm…)

It’s noisy but I’m happy to see her and I’m having a lovely day. The weather is great and we’re right on the edge a new year. The mac n’ cheese arrives. It’s bubbling fresh in the bowl. Looks delish!

We rip into that, and it’s just as good as I remember. Brunch arrives a little premature, but it’s 1:30 and I haven’t eaten yet today so I’m in the mood for food. Everything looks and tastes great and we’re sharing.

After a while the place empties out somewhat and it’s a bit more quiet. we’re discussing the holidays and family, etc. For some reason I can really tickle this lady. I just start talking about stuff and she laughs her head off.

I ask her how her other dates went. She said she checked in with the Delaware guy on Wednesday about that evening, and he said he was boarding a plane. He didn’t reach out to cancel. He was just going to bail. She obviously took offense and didn’t respond. He texted her again on Saturday and she just ignored it. The friday guy she cancelled. It was supposed to be his third date with her, but when he was saying things like he wanted to come to her house and cuddle she was put off. Maybe the fool thought the third date rule somehow applied to this thoroughbred.

I kind of like that after she went out with me, everybody else either screwed up or dropped off. My Led Zeppelin prophecy came true!

I should probably get to the 300 pound gorilla in the room. The bill comes. Granted, she had two proseccos and I had three beers. The drinks are what kill you. The bill was like seventy-three dollars. My eyes are watering. I look at it and I’m like, wow. Oh well, its New Years. I don’t make a big fuss over it publicly because that makes me look like a cheap skate and we all know that I am more than generous. I let the moment steam a bit, just in case there is help on the way…

Come on… just reach into your bag and offer the tip. Just the tip, baby…. You can do it. It’s going to be 2017. Equal rights for women. Please…….?

Nope. Not a fucking dime from the CEO boss lady.

Killing me.

We leave and enjoy a leisurely stroll down Chestnut Street. We’re headed west back towards center city. I have to go meet my friend Carly around 4:30, to help her set up for New Years Eve at the restaurant where she works. Clarice says she can hop on the next train back to Upper Darby anytime.

We reach Broad Street. I mention to her that they’ve remodeled the whole “rotunda” (bar area) of the Ritz Carlton across the street. “Wanna pop in and check it out?” Clarice is down for that. Maybe they’re handing out free drinks. I know she’d like that!

We head inside and the place looks gorgeous. It’s all decorated for the holidays and they have reconfigured the space. All of the furniture is new, and there is more private spaces around the room. The bar has been completely redone. they moved it outward from the wall and now you can sit all the way around it. Plus there are little booth seats against the back wall now. I need to come back here for happy hour again soon. Maybe with someone else though.

Just sayin’.

As we enter the main room there is a pretty black girl holding a tray of champagne. I can’t believe it. Free drinks. “Happy New Year.” She smiles. Clarice and I each grab a glass and look for a seat. We see several areas that have “Reserved” signs on them. We walk by several empty areas that are like that. “Oh that one is reserved too.” I say. as we’re walking by a seated couple. “They’re all reserved, she says with obvious disappointment in her voice. Clarice speaks: “Fuck this. Let’s goes sit over there.”

“We can’t. This is the Ritz Carlton, we can’t just do that.” I reply.

Wow. What a change in attitude since my days with Michelle. We take off our coats and get comfortable on the pillow covered sofas in our little enclosure.

“Fuck it. I’m doing it. If whoever this is reserved for shows up, we’ll apologize for not seeing the sign and leave.”

“But I can clearly see the sign right there on the table, Clarice.”

With a backward swipe of her hand she knocks the sign off the table. “C’mere.” She says as she grabs me and kisses me passionately. Now we got a show. She’s taking the sting right of that bill from Jones.

“I thought you said no PDA?”

“This is private enough.” She pulls me in for more kisses. She’s a hot lady. Maybe this is what Valerie and June were missing. That youthful fire that this sixty-one year old still possesses. She was in show biz for years so I know how these carny folk are all horny, but it’s a good thing.

“You know what I’d like to do that I’ve never done?” She purrs.

“What?”

“I wanna go to a strip club.”

“Noted. I’ll take you to Delilah’s one day.”

I need to write that down in the notepad of my phone as ‘Things to do with Clarice’. We’re just hanging on the sofa and nobody is saying anything. I’ve really got her laughing. We’re having a good time sipping our free champagne. I do realize that I have to go meet with Carly, so we finish our bubbly and head out. Of course I help her with her coat.

We walk a few blocks and I’ve got to keep heading west, and she’s got to go north to jump on the subway. I thank her for the day and she smooches me again. I do like Clarice. I’m attracted to her, and want to see her again.

Maybe one day when we’re someday watching Season Two of Phicklephilly on Netflix, I’ll look back on these moments and laugh. But right now this research is costing me a small fortune. I think I’ll find true love when I meet a woman that doesn’t want anything from me.

Maybe she’ll  just want me for me.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday & Wednesday at 8am EST.

Instagram: @phicklephilly    Facebook: phicklephilly

Eliana – Part 2 -The Art of Philly Cheesesteaks

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

Eliana and I decided to meet again. She said she wanted to go to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I love the PMA, so I was down for that. Back then I was off on Mondays, so she said she’d come down again.

She drove down into center city, and because she don’t know the city, and is not the best parallel parker, she picked me up. I was at Rachael’s stuffing a bagel down my throat. I don’t think she’d get down here as fast as she did.

I hop in her Chevy Volt and off we go. I direct her out to the PMA, because she’s clueless. We pull into the underground parking garage and lock the car. We take the elevator to the surface, and head towards the back entrance of the museum. The back of the building is not nearly as exciting as the front, with the Rocky steps and all.

We get to the door, and the nice man guarding the door says the museum is closed. What a disappointment. I was really looking forward to walking the halls of my favorite museum with this lady. But I’ve got an idea. I work my charm on the guard and he provides us with a coupon for cheap parking.

Eliana, is giving me some ribbing about bringing her down here on a monday, and the museum being closed. I get it and I’ll fix this. It was a little annoying though.

It’s a beautiful warm day, and I tell her leave the car there in the lot. We get our coats out of the vehicle and walk down Ben Franklin Parkway. I take her to the Rodin Museum. I love Rodin. It’s a small museum, but his sculptures rock. (get it?)

We tour the museum for a bit, and then take a seat in one of the rooms to chill. I steal a kiss or two from her. I think she knows by now I like her. I’m not blown away by this girl, but she’s nice and I’m feeling decent energy. I’m not that attracted to her. She’s got a sexy body, but there’s something missing. Maybe it’s a cultural gap. Did you ever notice how sometimes people from other countries just aren’t as hip as Americans? I mean no offense by this statement. But we have so many diverse culture references, that, and our fast way of life, it just makes us different.

The sun is shining and it’s an amazingly warm beautiful day. We stroll the parkway, and I have us walk south around 20th street. That’s a great area out there. The Franklin Institute, the Academy of Natural Sciences. I could have taken her to the Barnes Museum instead of the Rodin, but there’s a difference. The Rodin Museum was free. I made a small donation. The Barnes if $25 per person. I’m not dropping $50 on a second date. I don’t care if it’s a billion dollar art collection or not.

I’ve done the Barnes as a first date, but I got in for FREE. Totally different situation. I don’t know if this chick is going to make it.

We walk all the way back down to Rittenhouse. It was a hike, but a lovely stroll. I take her to a good spot I know for Monday lunch. We go in and get a table in the back. My favorite Monday bartender is on duty. Anna Marie is a love. She’s a beautiful Vietnamese girl. Petite and fit. I do the necessary pleasantries. Eliana had told me she had never had a Philly cheesesteak.

Today is the day, because they are half price on Mondays at this place. If I’m going to date all of these women, I have to be creative as well as thrifty. She’s pleased with the outcome, and happy that I remembered.

We get our food and chat. Our day is going well. She likes her cheesesteak well enough. I of course pay the bill. But so far this has been a pretty light date financially.

We walk west on Walnut street. We had some leftover food and I am carrying it so that I can give it to the next homeless person I see. It’s a real problem in Philly. But it seems like every time I have food, I never see any of them. This has happened on several occasions. But I do finally run into a guy and give him the food.

We walk all the way out to the Schuylkill River. There is a long walking and riding path there. It’s a lovely scenic area. You just have to watch out for the cyclists speeding by.

Check it out here: https://schuylkillrivertrail.com/

It goes on for miles and miles. They’ve really done a great job developing and maintaining it. We walk along the manicured trail. The view of the river is great. You can see Thirtieth Street Station, and the Cira Centre, which is my favorite building in the city. Because it looks like a big shard of glass jammed into the ground.

More here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cira_Centre

There was some kisses as we strolled along the path. It was a long day, and we basically spent almost six hours together. The beauty of this little journey, is that the path leads right back to the Art Museum. It really has been a lovely day. But when you spend a great deal of time with someone, you get to know them pretty fast.

We get to the parking garage and hop in her car. It’s been an amazing day weather wise. I like Eliana. She asks me if I want to drive her car, and I leap at the chance. Just so much technology in these modern machines. I’m going to drive this car right down to Square 1682 at 17th and Sansom. I’ll be sipping a drink with Carly and Church in twenty minutes.

I just don’t know how thrilled I am with Eliana. I think she’s nice and I like her, but somehow, something’s missing. I’m just not feeling the energy. I don’t need to feel the euphoric power I have felt in the past about anyone. I hope that aspect of my love life never happens again.

I need to think about this. I’ll know what I’m going to do by the next date.

Probably before that.

She does have a slammin’ little body on her…

I promise to let you know.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday, & Wednesday at 9am EST.

 

Tales of Rock: Chris Cornell, Soundgarden and Audioslave Frontman, Dies at 52

So sad…

I was going to publish a piece today about Sly Stone ending up living in a van.

But not now.

Wednesday I was home, writing the epilogue of another lost girlfriend, and listening to Soundgarden and the solo work of Chris Cornell. I never do that. I was actually listening to Badmotorfinger, the full album on You Tube, while I wrote my blog. The irony has struck me hard, and I am still trying to understand what is happening. I love the song “You Know My Name” from the James Bond film, Casino Royale. I always think of it as my theme song.

I woke up Thursday to a text from my buddy, Church that Chris had passed. I was shocked and saddened. It comes with a heavy heart that I publish today’s blog.

Chris Cornell, the powerful, dynamic singer whose band Soundgarden was one of the architects of grunge music, has died at 52.

The death of Soundgarden singer Chris Cornell has been ruled a suicide by the Wayne County Medical Examiner’s Office.

“The Medical Examiner has completed the autopsy on 52-year-old Chris Cornell, the Soundgarden musician who died last night in Detroit. The cause of death has been determined as hanging by suicide. A full autopsy report has not yet been completed. There is no additional information at this time.”

Spokesman Brian Bumbery told the Associated Press that Cornell was found in his hotel room at the MGM Grand Detroit following a tour date at Detroit’s Fox Theatre with the reunited Soundgarden, the band he’d fronted for over 30 years

Dontae Freeman, media relations manager for the Detroit Police Department, later told the newspaper, “He was found in his room with a band around his neck, but (the report) doesn’t say if it was attempted suicide or not.”

Cornell had appeared to be in good spirits Wednesday when he tweeted, “Finally back to Rock City” before the show. However, Freeman noted that the singer’s wife, Vicky Karayiannis, asked a family friend and asked him to check on Cornell after the show later that evening. The friend forced open his hotel room door and found Cornell unresponsive on the bathroom floor.

Bumbery called Cornell’s death “sudden and unexpected” and said his wife and family are in shock. The statement said the family would be working closely with the Wayne County medical examiner to determine the cause and have asked for privacy.

Chris was born in 1964 in Seattle and helped form Soundgarden 20 years later. Sub Pop, then a fledgling record label, released the group’s first single, “Hunted Down,” in 1987, as well as two subsequent EPs. The group’s debut album, “Ultramega OK,” came a year later.

“Badmotorfinger,” released in 1991, benefited from the swell of attention that was beginning to surround the Seattle scene, where Soundgarden, along with Nirvana and Pearl Jam, were playing a high-octane, high-angst brand of rock ’n’ roll. Soundgarden’s musical journeys tended toward the knotty and dark, plunging into off-kilter meters and punctuated by Mr. Cornell’s voice, which could quickly shift from a soulful howl to a gritty growl.

Three of Soundgarden’s studio albums have been certified platinum, including “Superunknown,” from 1994, which featured “Black Hole Sun,” “Fell on Black Days,” “Spoonman” and “My Wave.”

The group — which includes the guitarist Kim Thayil, the bassist Ben Shepherd and the drummer Matt Cameron — disbanded in 1997, but it reunited in 2010 and performed regularly since then. In a review of a 2011 concert at the Prudential Center in Newark, The New York Times chief pop critic Jon Pareles called Soundgarden “one reunited band that can pick up right where it left off.” In 2012, it released “King Animal,” its first album in 16 years, which Mr. Pareles said “sounds like four musicians live in a room, making music that clenches and unclenches like a fist.”

The group played at the Fox Theater in Detroit on Wednesday night, and it had been scheduled to perform in Columbus, Ohio, on Friday at the Rock on the Range festival.

Chris appeared to be active on social media in the hours before his death. A post on his Twitter account on Wednesday announced that the group had arrived in Detroit, and a clip of the group’s 2012 release “By Crooked Steps” was posted to his official Facebook page hours before his death.

Chris had admitted in interviews to struggling with drug use throughout his life. In a 1994 Rolling Stone article, he described himself as a “daily drug user at 13,” who had quit by the time he turned 14.

After Soundgarden disbanded in 1997, Mr. Cornell returned to heavy drug use, he told The Guardian in a 2009 interview, describing himself as a “pioneer” in the abuse of the opiate OxyContin, and saying that he had gone to rehab.

Chris released five solo albums during and after his time with Soundgarden, starting with the 1999 LP “Euphoria Morning.” His 2007 album “Carry On” featured an acoustic cover of Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” that served as the inspiration for a well-received version of the song on “American Idol.” He contributed the song “Seasons” to the soundtrack of “Singles,” Cameron Crowe’s love letter to the Seattle music scene, and performed alongside other members of Soundgarden in the film.

In 2001, after Rage Against the Machine’s lead singer, Zack de la Rocha, left the group, Mr. Cornell and members of the band formed Audioslave. The group released three albums before announcing its split in 2007.

In November 2016, Chris hit the road for the first time with another supergroup of sorts, Temple of the Dog, which features a blend of members of Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. The group was formed a quarter-century ago as a tribute to Andrew Wood, the lead singer of the Seattle bands Malfunkshun and Mother Love Bone, who died in March 1990 of a heroin overdose.

Speaking to The New York Times, Chris said the group had decided to finally bring its songs to life to honor Mr. Wood. “I thought, well, this is one thing that I can do to remind myself and maybe other people of who this guy is and was and keep his story and in a way his life with us,” he said.

Incidentally, in a final footnote, I just learned that Chris was taking Antivan for depression. Two of the side effects of that drug can be “More Depression” and “Suicidal Thoughts.”

And in a final grim note, the final song of the show he played in Detroit that night. The final song Chris would ever play, was Led Zeppelin’s “In My Time of Dying.”

Thanks to everyone for following phicklephilly right up to my 100th blog post. It just sucks that it had to be about this. The Cornell family are in our thoughts and prayers.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at 9am EST.

Sarika – Out Of The Web – Update

Just another pretty face…

I was just walking home from the salon. It’s been busy and Achilles asked that I help out Trish during her shift.

It’s was really warm out today. We’ve had a chilly Spring but this week the temperature really has finally risen.

So while walking home I decided to walk through Rittenhouse Square. I knew everybody would be out and I thought I’d see a bunch of beautiful women.

There were plenty all sitting outside at the three restaurants on the east side of the square. Rouge, Devon Seafood, and Parc.

So I’m strolling down the sidewalk checking out all of the pretty faces and well turned legs, and who do I see sitting with another girl and two young men?

Sarika!

I see her and she looks up at me and then averts her eyes back to who she is talking to.

She would never do that to me. She’s always nice to me and would call me over to say hello.

So this tells me one thing.

She’s read, phicklphilly!

Game over!

She’s cut me off because I laid it out there and told the truth about the lonely Black Widow.

The truth hurts.

But I’m not sad. She’s just another pretty face.

I have no use for her in my life.

What’s the point of having her around? So I can listen to her warble on about her dates and other failed relationships? I’m sure I didn’t hurt her feelings, because you must have feelings to have them hurt.

C’est la vie!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at 9am EST.

 

Mary – Chapter 1 – Unexpected Table for Two

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I was having lunch with my buddy, Rocco at one of our favorite places. It’s actually the place where I first met Maria. (Maria – 2015 to Present – Amor en Vano) The hostess is an older woman who’s always on point and nice to talk to. We’ve been going there for lunch since it opened. Mary works there Wednesday through Friday.

I’m sitting there looking over at Mary, and I say to Rocco, “I’m going to ask Mary out for a drink.” Rocco agrees that I should. Mary is 5’6″, slender and fit. She has light blond hair and blue eyes. She is as she says, “A whisper away from 69.” I know that sounds a little dirty, but that means she’ll be turning 69 years old in a few months.

Now I know what I said before about dating older women or women my age, but Mary is cool and looks great. I think maybe I just dated a few duds off Tinder, but I know Mary from the real world.

So I was going to ask her right then, but it looked like she was sitting down to eat something. I didn’t want to bother her while she was trying to eat so I just ended up leaving and not saying anything to her. I figured the next time I saw her I’d ask her out. But I was slightly disappointed in myself for not striking when the idea presented itself to me.

The next day was Saturday and I was out in the city running errands. I was walking up 19th street. There was a cluster of people and dogs up ahead, and I decided to avoid that whole mess by simply walking in the street. I’m going along and this woman comes up to me in sunglasses and says: “Do you always walk in the street?” I was startled at first but then realized it was Mary. “I was just saying to Rocco, that I was going to ask you to have a drink with me, but you were eating when we were leaving the restaurant yesterday!”

We chatted a bit and I told her that this was the first time we have ever seen each other outside of the restaurant. I then asked her if she’d like to meet me for a drink later. She said she was meeting some of her friends later for dinner, but could hang with me in a couple of hours. She had some errands to run and so did I. She gave me her number and said she’d text me in a bit.

I went to Target and picked up some things, and grabbed my dry cleaning on the way home. Some time later I got a text from Mary. We met up around 19th and Chestnut. She suggested Smith’s. We walked over and it looked crowded. I suggested Cavanaugh’s. We peeked in there and it looked packed and noisy. We continued down Sansom street. We went into square 1682 at 17th and Sansom. As always, it was perfect.

She ordered a scotch and soda and I went with the cider. This is the first time I’ve ever chatted with Mary outside of the restaurant. It was refreshing talking to someone who has lived in Philly her whole life. She has a rich history of stories from working in the hospitality industry most of her life. She’s basically retired but likes the structure that the hosting job gives her. She only works about four hours a day, three days a week. Mary has never been married and never really wanted to get married. She says she never really met anyone she wanted to be tied to for the rest of her life.

She seems like a pretty level-headed woman who enjoys her independence. She’s fourteen years older than I am, but we still have a lot in common having grown up in the sixties and seventies.

She’s been suffering from numerous maladies as of late. She’s been seeing a physical therapist about some pain and stiffness she’s been experiencing in her right shoulder. She’s also getting cataract surgery in the next few weeks. I know none of this seems all that glamorous, but these are real challenges that an older person is going to have to face. She’s in good shape and these are normal occurrences. I realize I’m not getting any younger, and I’m not going to be hotter or stronger, or any better a year from now. It’s all downhill from here. I just need to keep growing and evolving into a better person. If I can just maintain my health as long as possible I’ll be satisfied with that. I like that she wants to work too. I hope I can work as long as possible. I just like to have things to do to fill my day and interact with people.

Mary is a pretty basic Philly girl who gets it, and wants to live a simple uncluttered life into old age. She has a nice condo here in town and is very happy with the space and the view from her balcony.

I think she’s pretty. I like spending time with her and I want to get to know her. it’s nice hanging out with some one above my age. There is a simple wisdom that comes with age.

We have a couple of rounds and then she has to go to meet with her friends. I walk her outside and we share a brief kiss. I like Mary and want to see her again. Maybe I’m finally maturing and enjoying the company of women my own age.

Or even older!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at 9am EST.