Cheesesteaks with Ben

This past weekend I was in Philly, where it all started. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, Philly Cheesesteaks. It was awesome in the most literal sense of the word: I was full of awe. Well at least with all the historical stuff. It was great seeing Independence Hall, the Liberty Bell, and all the 2000+ year-old history. We saw where the Declaration was signed and saw a chair that George Washington actually sat in. A buddy of ours came in from Washington D.C., and we just scoffed at him. D.C. has nothing on the birthplace of America. D.C.'s just a pretender. Philly's a true contender, what with Rocky on top of it all. We even saw a sign for "Breakfast with Ben Franklin." It would have been fun, but we didn't bother, we visited his grave, we knew he was actually dead.

So that part was great, but the cheesesteak failed to amaze. Don't get me wrong, Geno's famous sliced Grade B meat with sauteed onions and cheese whiz was as good as the sum of those parts could be, but it cost over $7. I may have been expecting too much. Philly is not known for its fantastic regional cuisine. The second-most-important ingredient is cheese whiz. But that didn't stop me. I had at least 3 of the said sandwiches (maybe more--I lost track of several hours during which I lost a digital camera). We also fell in love with Crown Fried Chicken. Sure, flavor always factors into an sexy weekend food fling, but proximity helped. Crown was closer than the convention we were in town for--which was across the street. And of course there was alcohol consumption befitting of a weekend trip, as well.

I think it all caught up to me. After flying home and the souvenir hangover slowly subsided, around 4 a.m. an intense pain shot through my back and down my arm. Great, I thought, I've given myself a Philadelphia-sized heart attack. I started to think about where to get a bottle of Bayer, started breathing to moderate my heart rate (is that even a strategy?), and then something snapped. The pain was gone and left me with a warm, slightly tingling sensation. It must have been a knot in my back, or something less serious than cardiac arrest, but I almost gave myself a heart attack thinking I was having a heart attack. Of course if I kicked it, I'd be able to catch that breakfast with Ben Franklin.