Based on True Events

Like every good adventure, this one began first thing in the morning: "So, are we adventuring today?" "Hell yeah, man." Hell yeah, indeed. So we ate a hearty breakfast, exchanged a few Zelda-related jokes, and packed up our adventure gear. The key to a successful adventure is in the gear: water bottle, snacks, compass, flash light, cell phone, machete, and, of course, a length of sturdy rope. And so it starts.
The first stop? The Edgar Allan Poe Museum -- or "EAPoeM" to those in the 'know'. But what do we spy on the way? None other than the Latvian Society of Philadelphia, and they are hosting The Philadelphia Joke Initiative's production of Rodgers And Hammerstein are Dead, the city's first, and presumably last, improvisational musical. Good call, Latvia. We'll keep this in mind for future adventures.

Approaching the museum, we see that it is guarded by a large metal raven. Supernatural animal guardians are always a good sign. Upon entering the museum, our wits are immediately tested with a puzzle of staggering complexity.
No fucking problem. We are promptly rewarded with golden treasure.In addition to numerous such puzzles and traps, we happen upon what is possibly the swankiest room ever conceived. After chatting with the security guard a bit, we discover that it was modeled after Poe's essay, "The Philosophy of Furniture", in which he describes the ideal bachelor pad. Among the things Poe calls for, this room contained an octagonal table adorned with maps and blueprints for adventure planning, windows painted red to produce an eerie red glow, paintings of cute girls, and a stereo with CD recordings of Poe's own poetry. Turbo sexy digs.
And of course, "Eddy's" childhood stuffed animals.
And, after talking with the curator a bit, we get the inside scoop on the Poe House: it is *the* place to be on Halloween. Apparently they throw a wild, 'spooky'-themed rave party ... or maybe it was a raven party ... either way, keep that in mind for future adventures.

On the way out of the Poe House, we notice a sign for the German Society of Philadelphia. Obviously we have to see what that's all about, so we enter and see that a few people are sorta hanging around and there are brochures and informational whatsits strewn about. We grab one and read over some of the upcoming events to find that there is a classical music performance by "American Virtuosi" -- in fifteen minutes! The ticket seller informs us that student tickets are $10. A bit rich for our wallets, so we go to leave, when a sharply dressed man approaches us with a sly smirk, "Would it change your minds if I gave you this?" He presents a ticket to the event, implying we would only have to buy one additional ticket at $10. Minds: changed.
Waiting for the concert to begin, we meet Susan Gould, pictured above. After bonding over our shared distaste for Condoleezza Rice, she gives us her three business cards and offers to sponsor our membership in the German Society. Why become a member? Well, we'd be able to borrow books from the library, get German lessons, and go to sweet Sommerfest (Oktoberfest in June) and Wandertag (hiking day) parties. So that's defs happening. Finally the concert starts, and out walk three young, beautiful siblings who proceed to tear the shit out of their respective instruments. Jaws dropped, tears flowed, and lives were forever changed.
After the concert, we resign to the super-classy "ratskeller" for some complimentary German coffee and German chocolate cake, where we timidly spoke with American Virtuosi on topics as diverse as custom-made silk shirts from Vietnam, tee-shirts that read "Bachelor of Magic", how underdressed Dan and I were, and other things not about clothes.

Leaving the German Society, we next head towards Second Street, which Dan claims is the "hippest jive-street in town". He was not wrong. He's already posted extensively about the sweet stuff to be found there, but here are a couple more pics.



Finally, we meet up with our third musketeer, Neil, and explore some more of Philadelphia before grabbing some Five Guys and calling it a day. A successful day.