Local sober dating
I gaze out the window and come upon one more startling realization. Gone is the carcinogenic poetry and the addictive smell of creosote. The row of Tudor houses north of the tracks signal we are almost out of the Main Line. In the late 19th century, the streams were buried underground and merged into the city sewers, and Overbrook was developed as a planned residential area. He’d just lean over and drop them straight in.” I recently learned this mnemonic device: Old Maids Never Wed And Have Babies, which helps you recall the Main Line stops of Overbrook, Merion, Narberth, Wynnewood, Ardmore, Haverford and Bryn Mawr. I’ve always been a sucker for the Palestra and Big 5 hoops, but mostly now that’s just a hollow memory, too.
It seems creosote-soaked wood is no longer the favored building material for railroad ties. In Narberth, a stately line of bare trees fret a piercing blue sky. Nowadays, Overbrook is justly known for its basketball bloodlines. He likes to tell the story of the time he saw Chamberlain, complete with entourage, at a fair at Saint Rose of Lima school. This was Morley’s Main Line, what he was talking about when he described the Paoli local as “an excursion into Arcadia.” I wonder if he ever made it as far west as Paoli.
That said, We’re off to the city to visit with Becky’s brother Tim, his wife Pearl, and Max’s cousin Elodie. The future will arrive once a vendor can be found to exploit it with suitable irresponsibility, preferably without any accountability whatsoever.It is bad for the mind to continually be part of unanimity. His love letter to Broad Street Station was published the year after the sprawling gothic wonder had been demolished. On a trivial note, I was surprised the other day whilst paging through a provincial newspaper to realize both private Haverford School, right on Lancaster Avenue in the heart of the Main Line, and public Haverford High School (in Havertown) share the nickname “Fords.” As does Haverford College, for that matter. I note this because my mother grew up less than five miles from Haverford School.Another thing that somehow escaped my noticed when I was a kid is how close, geographically speaking, Haverford is to Havertown. I grew up 12 miles from Haverford in Paoli, the nominal terminus of the Main Line.Whatever they’re calling it, however they’re selling it, it’s good to be on board. It’s sunburst orange from stem to stern and awash in Tropicana slogans. Christopher Morley suffered a stroke in 1951, and died in 1957.These were his last words to friends, as published in New York newspapers (per Wikipedia): Read, every day, something no one else is reading.