| I've got nothing against Philadelphia, let me | | | | head about this Corona was a Phil Hendrie |
| make that clear. I've also never lived there, | | | | character who lived there, the oft-humiliated |
| but did spend a few years there on several | | | | and always litigious Steve Bosell. I now know |
| weekends, to paraphrase W.C. Fields. And even | | | | that Corona's also home to the best bagels |
| though cold, grey, rainy days could remind me | | | | I've had in years, from N.Y.P.D. (for pizza |
| of New York or Baltimore, where I actually | | | | department). The owners used to own the Bagel |
| have lived, they always make me think of | | | | Oasis on the Horace Harding Expressway (fancy |
| Philadelphia in wintertime. Like today, when | | | | name for a service road if you ask me), in - |
| Southern California is anything but sunny, | | | | you guessed it - Queens, where I used to stop |
| where intimidated drivers creep through | | | | and stock up on my way back to Manhattan from |
| rivers of standing water while daredevils | | | | band rehearsals, long about thirty years ago. |
| swerve around them, wheels deep in the muck, | | | | It's a small world, by cracky, even under the |
| throwing up rooster tails like offshore power | | | | big sky. |
| boats, just before they lose control and | | | | |
| start sliding sideways down Ventura | | | | Meanwhile, my son's still chanting his latest |
| Boulevard. Thank God it doesn't snow here. | | | | favorite "novelty tune," as we used to call |
| I'm eager to get back to Miami. | | | | them. I was mystified when he and his mates |
| | | | became Weird Al fans a year ago, and rewarded |
| My nine-year-old is with me in the truck, on | | | | them with a seminar on Roger Miller, Jim |
| our way back from his friend's house. He's | | | | Lehrer and Ray Stevens that made their eyes |
| chanting a rap lyric about an ultimate | | | | glaze over. These days, folks don't seem to |
| showdown of cartoon heroes and tough guys. | | | | work so hard on satire, delivering the |
| Over and over again. He's been chanting it | | | | large-type edition, dumbed down to make sure |
| since last weekend, when he learned it from | | | | the audience gets it. Doesn't mean it's not |
| his teammates at a soccer tournament in | | | | funny, just not so original. I mean, where's |
| Corona (not the one in Queens where the best | | | | Ian Dury when you need him? |
| Italian ices come from). No, this Corona's | | | | |
| out near Riverside, on the edge of a huge | | | | It's still raining, but we're almost home, |
| valley between mountains that really do turn | | | | and my son's almost done (timing is |
| purple with the sunset. When you get up on | | | | everything). He's reached the climax of his |
| the Westbound I-91 ramp in the dark, the | | | | ultimate showdown song, where Mr. Rogers |
| scale of it all just smacks you in the face, | | | | slays everyone who isn't already dead, then, |
| especially if you're an East Coast boy like | | | | for reasons I'll never understand, commits |
| me. There's a vast valley floor, covered with | | | | hara-kiri. Maybe we are Devo, after all. I |
| a bed of lights, all at the same height, | | | | remain hopeful, though, whenever I see my son |
| spreading like Georgia kudzu to the bases of | | | | cracking up over a smart Monty Python sketch, |
| mountains all around. No high-rises out here. | | | | like the soccer match between the Bournemouth |
| Don't need 'em. This is big country, with | | | | Gynecologists and the Watford Long John |
| plenty of floor space. | | | | Silver Impersonators. Then again, those guys |
| | | | also did the fish-slapping dance. |
| Until last weekend, the only data point in my | | | | |