Introduction to Philadelphia

Cliché-sounding statement number one: Philadelphia is a lovely city. I live here, in a tiny fifth-floor walk-up studio on 8th Street, between Pine and Lombard. When I look out my back window, I can see the steeple of the old Pine Street church George Washington attended. Beyond the steeple are shiny-windowed high-rise apartments. Beyond them are blipping lights of planes coasting over the Delaware River into Philadelphia International Airport. The view from the front of my apartment is of 19th-century rooftops, rising skyscrapers -- and a single roof deck with a pair of sunbathing poodles.

The nation's oldest hospital is a half a block from my home: I pass it every time I head out to shop in Old City, or to work in my office near Rittenhouse Square. Both are about a 15-minute walk, provided I don't stop in any of the dozen or so amazing little cafes along the way. About once a week, folks passing my apartment ask for directions to Pat's and Geno's, South Philly's famous cheesesteak stands.

These tiny details of my daily life make me hometown-proud (cliché number two). To me, a reformed suburbanite, Philadelphia is the perfect American city. I love that it surrounds me with some of our country's most important historic monuments. I love that its buildings are a blend of the extremely old and the super-new. I love the mistakenly planted gingko trees, the Rocky footprints at the top of the Art Museum steps (although I'm not sure about the statute), the fresh mozzarella cheese at Claudio's in the Italian Market, New Year's Day's debauched Two Street party after the annual Mummer's Parade (which I also love). And I love that in 20 minutes I can walk anywhere in Center City.

I haven't always gone weak in the knees for Philly, though. My crush came about gradually. When I moved back 10 years ago, I thought I was stopping over on my way to New York. But something strange happened: Philadelphia kept my attention. Every time I turned around, there was another great place to eat dinner, another incredible art opening, another amazing boutique, bar, band, exhibit, or event. As Philadelphia blossomed, so did my feelings for it.

And I'm not the only one who feels this way about Philadelphia. While other cities have seen small hardware stores and haberdasheries and independent coffee shops giving way to chains and big-box stores, here, people hung in, roasting their own coffee beans and defiantly creating their own art. The result: In 2005, National Geographic Traveler lauded Philadelphia as the "Next Great City." Just before that, the New York Times called us the "sixth borough."

Of course, my City of Brotherly Love still has a long way to go. Not all Philadelphians live on a block as safe as mine. Beyond Center City, beyond University City and Chestnut Hill, are pockets -- giant pockets -- riddled with serious poverty and unspeakable violence. And, in the very near future, massive, 24-hour casinos will set up their depressing, addictive trade around town. To my mind, this change can only make matters worse.

If I had to choose one inspiring must-do for visitors, I'd recommend a Mural Arts Tour (tel. 215/685-0754; www.muralarts.org). Mural Arts guides take you into Philly's other neighborhoods, the ones that don't appear in guidebooks. You'll cruise by smooth walls blanketed in brilliant colors. You'll learn how beautifying communities, working with one paintbrush, one child at a time, can bring about positive transformation. The experience is moving, restorative, and educational. It re-teaches you the classic lesson of the city, and America itself: One small step, one giant leap. Right here, on earth, in Philadelphia: a generally lovely place to be.