We arrived Friday near dinner time and took Matthew to Bookbinders, a well known Philadelphia restaurant that had been closed for three and half years, renovated and reopened about two years ago. It’s an uber-expensive restaurant (What can I say, we were giddy to see our boy.) with people to greet you, to take your order, to pour your water, to assist you in the bathroom, and to stand around and look pretty. Even the owner walks about and introduces himself.
One more thing about the bathrooms. Diane tells me there were three hair care products lined up on the sink, but the attendant, after appraising Diane’s Do, offered her a fourth. And, after Matthew’s description (“Dad, they looked like closets, not stalls”), I figured one Miller paying to pee was enough so I elected to hold it until we got back to the hotel.
Saturday we woke Matt at noon, had breakfast at the Student Union, and then traipsed off to the Meso-American exhibit at the University of Penn. Last night we had dinner at the uber-inexpensive (Giddy had worn off.) Draught Horse, near Temple, where we grilled (intended) Matt about about his current life compared to his old life. Interestingly for me, he said it wasn’t as different as he expected.
“I still go to classes and I still study.” he said.
“But you pick and choose as you please. And when you’re done studying you can do whatever you want.”
“Dad, I went from unstructured to unstructured.”
(As a father my biggest regret is that I wasn’t able to be more of what I consider a father to be. I didn’t hand down the beatings, but I definitely didn’t deal with my father’s hand’s off approach. I didn’t even recognize it as an issue until I was about done being a parent.)
“You’re right. How about getting away, out from under all our stuff. I figured that would be such a relief.”
“Out from under what?”
“HO, Jimmy, Patti. All that.”
“Partly, but I’m still working on that. I miss Acton and my friends. I miss your shower, I miss my own bed.”
