Northern Liberties

Checkerboard and I ventured to the 700 Club last night, we rendezvoused with Scooby Snacks, Hickey, Sir Laugh-a-lot, and Mischief Man.

As we made our way there, the name evoked memories of that famous (or infamous, depending on your leanings) Christian television show on CBN; as much a staple of Middle-America as corn and potatoes. Much to my chagrin the show often found an audience in my parent’s living room, forcing me to relinquish control of the set while in the middle of watching something far more interesting.

My mind drifting during the cab ride, I pictured a club full of prancing pentecostals waving their arms and tambourines about to the musical stylings of DJ Pat Robertson; "The Spirit" gyrating them to the beat like marionettes on their strings… Clearly, the religious school education has irreparably damaged my psyche.

What I discovered was quite the opposite; a hipster haven featuring more plaid than a Celtic festival and a DJ spinning tracks from inside a bathtub on the second floor. The decor evoked memories of countless house parties I’ve crashed before; the homey atmosphere inducing a sense of freedom appropriate for an area referred to as Northern “Liberties.”

The 700 Club, 700 N. 2nd St, a welcomed change from the Center City scene.

Now, excuse me while I go back to reading contracts and an opinion piece on the nature of quackery in the 19^th Century. Apparently, carbolic smoke balls, vaginal insufflators, enemas and judges who carried their fox terriers to the bench were all the rage in Victorian Britain…and they said this class would be boring : )