A lot of you are either transplants (welcome!) or too young to remember (please shut up for a moment and stop texting) what Philadelphia was like back in the 1970s and 1980s. It was a wild, hungry time. At Christmas, for instance, since there was no money (and frankly, not a lot of people) around, we’d dress up as Santa Claus, go to office parties, try to steal pills, wind up stealing old fish, and then take the bus home. Alone. (See video.) That’s just one example of The Way We Lived Then. So bearing in mind that October 2 is only 23 days away — the official deadline for when the Nutter Administration’s dreaded Plan C budget must go into effect barring relief from Harrisburg — we thought we’d paint you a picture of what life might be like in The New Old Weird Philadelphia (Again). For example, let’s roll the date ahead to December 23rd, 2009. Here’s what’s up.

·  Whatever library books you have out now are the only books you’ll be able to read for the rest of your life, unless you find a place where you can steal more. That’s because the libraries — all of them — closed on October 3rd. If you didn’t return your books, well, who’s gonna do anything about it? To be honest, even in the ’70s, when Rizzo was beating up black people and Adrian Balboa had to get by selling mice on Kensington Avenue, this never happened.

· Once again, playgrounds and public parks are the destination of choice for those looking to shoot up, ply the skin trade, or both. Because the kids were told not to go there anymore a few months ago, and the only kids left are the sundry (and frankly, resourceful and quite cruel) Philly street urchins that now supply you with low-grade crank and heroin (it’s back!) and draw on your face with markers when you can’t pay full freight. Don’t worry, though: When you nod out on the bench, the marker actually adds an extra layer on your skin to keep you warm.

· Everything stinks to high heaven, and there are vermin and bugs all over the fucking place. Your outdoor drug-using notwithstanding, you should be hoping like hell it’s a mild winter, as trash collection is now only every two weeks, and this is Philly, so you know how that goes: Sometimes, they don’t even pick it all up anyway. Month-old garbage on the street is now a reality. God help you if it snows and you live on a small street. At the very least, though, your trash will freeze.

· Your car looks like a castoff from the old set of The Dukes of Hazzard. Because the City’s so fucking broke, literally 700 intersections have just been switched to flashing lights as opposed to, you know, actual traffic lights that go green and yellow and red. As a result, everybody’s got “Philly Body Work,” meaning that most of the cars are so dented they look like old cans of Dinty Moore Beef Stew. Which you eat now. Just because.

· Male or female, you live in constant fear of being raped when you walk down the street at night. This is because four out of every five street lights have been turned off. I swear I am not making this up. Just put up your hood, walk fast, and hold your keys in your fist so that if you have to punch anyone to fend them off, you’ll be able to at least temporarily blind them.

· 911 truly is joke. Because, as the budget cuts make the city a petri dish for crime (think second season of The Wire, but in like every neighborhood), there’s also been cuts in the police force just as crime is simultaneously upticking. Which is great if you want to nod off in the park, but bad if you’ve just been raped by an eyeless neighbor.

But stand proud, fellow citizen! This can’t possibly last forever. Hold your head high. If nothing else, you are still, always, a Pennsylvanian.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 9th, 2009 at 11:37 am.