The Quelcadelphia Bank

September 2008

With social media tools such as Facebook, the concept of the yearbook will probably, if not already, become one of those relic references of the generations who will also be able to recall their first cell phone-the one without texting capabilities, let alone ragdoll-blasting applications.  This diminishing population may also recall what it was like to page through tactile pages of photos, to use a pen to tag a parting summer message and then spend the first days of vacation reading over the original, the personal and the old- standards of yearbook messages.

“We should get together this summer” fell into the fallback category of yearbook quotations.  Without the ability to write on a “wall” or comment on a photo, overcoming the summer disconnect was a bigger deal.  Following through and making plans with the recipient of “we should get together this summer” required more initiative than most high- school students could summon.  This comment was usually a hollow farewell and a waste of space on the free pages, where closer friends would spend an entire evening recalling every inside joke from September.  Phil broke the “let’s get together” mold.

When Phil signed my yearbook, he was a senior on his way into the “real” world, and I was a junior with another Souderton summer ahead of me.  We had overlapped in the underground lair of the art classrooms, but our real connection formed during Advanced Placement Composition [nerds].  When Phil wrote in my yearbook that we should get together, I was skeptical.  Our friendship had never ventured beyond the walls of the school.  Would we really commence our cultural outings upon Phil’s commencement?  If it were anyone else, the answer would have been no, but as I said, there were others, and then there was Phil!

Phil called that summer.  Phil picked me up in his shiny red mustang and drove us into Philadelphia, our closest big city and our salvation from suburban existences.  Phil and I went to art museums he knew, and art museums neither of us had ever visited.  Our paths have since taken us all over this globe, and our friendship has certainly surpassed the ambition of his yearbook note.

These days, most of our connections come via Facebook, text messages, the occasional phone call and old-fashioned snail mail, but every now and then, I take time to visit Philadelphia.  When I visit Philadelphia, I visit Phil!  I rescued a little Piggy Bank from a Pittsburgh street, and I thought 239 Brown Street would make a great home for the little yellow friend.

While he’s there, he may as well be working for a good cause, and all that work deserves a sweet reward!

That piggy cake turned out pretty shabby, partially because those two little piggies had to travel 302 miles alllllll the way to their new home!  302 miles between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia packs a lot of curves, hills and bumpy roads!  302 miles later it still tasted good though!

The Recipe?  Another case of the incomplete notes.

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