Please Keep Your Shirts on, Pleads Nutter
July 15, 2008 –
Mayor Michael Nutter yesterday begged the city's wide-ranging community of flabby, acne-scarred men to keep their shirts on–despite temperatures predicted to rise into the 90s in coming days. "I know it'll be hot out there, and I understand that a shirt can make things uncomfortable," said Nutter at a morning press conference. "But it's even more uncomfortable for the rest of us to see your jiggling, mole-covered bodies. So for our peace of mind, I'm urging you: please, please keep your shirts on."
 Councilman Darrell Clarke, whose district is full of such blithely out-of-shape citizens, agreed. "When it gets warm and humid outside, the shirts come off–no matter what the person may look like," he complained. "Sitting in the park when it's 95° is bad enough without having to see some chubster's sweaty back-pubes." According to Center City District President Paul Levy, "If these people don't comply with the mayor's request, I think it'll lead to an appreciable drop in tourism. I'm serious. People come here to see the Liberty Bell–not some creep's cheese-filled fat-folds."
The jelly-waisted shirtless, however, seemed unfazed by such comments. "I'm fully within my rights–and besides, it feels nice," said Owen Gammon, 43, fingering his navel on a Washington Square park bench. "I mean, what's Nutter gonna do–have me arrested?" The mayor, for his part, seemed resigned to stay within the boundaries of the law. "This is a free country, and, no, it's not illegal to take your shirt off–even if you do have man-boobs," he said, grimacing slightly. "All I can do is remind you of the pain that you're causing the rest of us." |
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Family Name Fails to Prevent Robbery
July 15, 2008 –
74-year-old Society Hill resident Geoffrey Dantridge yesterday reported shock that the mention of his storied surname did not prevent a robbery early Sunday morning. "Muriel and I were returning from a delightful evening with friends when the ruffian leapt from a shrub, demanding my wallet," he huffed. "I said, 'Young man, I'll have you know I'm Geoffrey Dantridge. Of the Philadelphia Dantridges?' But the fellow just barked, 'Gimme the money,' or some such rubbish. Grandfather Dantridge would be outraged."
 Police said even had the assailant realized that he was holding up a scion of Old Philadelphia, it likely would not have made a difference. "Even if he knew that [Dantridge's] great-grandfather was a big cheese in the paper industry, I don't think that would've helped much," said Sgt. Geno Capelli. "Crack fiends and such aren't all that interested in genealogy." Temple University historian Katherine Green agreed. "The days of urban aristocracy in cities like Philadelphia are long gone," she said. "But for a Dantridge–or a Rittenhouse or a Girard–that fact is almost impossible to accept."
For the proud descendant of Thaddeus Dantridge III, however, the family's name was as relevant as ever. "Why, when people see me strolling about, I'm sure they're whispering, 'There goes a Dantridge,' " he beamed, filling his pipe with tobacco. "Strangely, that young thug just didn't seem to realize the error he was making." Muriel Dantridge added that, despite the assault, the couple would still take its late-night walks. "Oh, Geoffrey and I have nothing to fear, I assure you," she smiled. "After all, we are Dantridges." |
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