Philadelphia is the greatest city in America for a few, incontestable reasons: water ice, Gritty, cheesesteaks, South Philly accents, Wawa, sports, Boyz II Men, West Philly porches, a thriving music and arts culture. But at the heart of that jawn is the Philadelphia spirit, an idiosyncratic, underdog ethos that makes Philly and its residents true characters who simply do not have time for bullshit. Case in point: Mayor Jim Kenney, who told press on Friday that he believes Trump needs to shut up and concede already. “I think what the president needs to do is, frankly, put his big boy pants on. He needs to acknowledge the fact that he lost, and he needs to congratulate the winner, just as Jimmy Carter did, just as George H. W. Bush did, and, frankly, just as Al Gore did,” he told journalists, emphasis my own. “Stop this, and let us move forward as a country. And that’s my feeling. I doubt he’ll listen to me, but, that’s it.” Big boy pants? Come on. That’s too good. Only in Philly. It’s almost as good as the time Eagles’ center Jason Kelce chanted—shortly after his team won the Super Bowl, in front of the Philadelphia Museum of Art steps made famous by Rocky, while decked out in Mummers clothing—“Fucking Philly! No one likes us / We don’t care.” This week, democracy loves Philly, and America loves those twerkin’ mailbox protests. Stay weird, y’all.
