Yo!

Twenty thousand people lined up in Philly a week after the election, but not to riot or storm the capital. We were fighters, and a couple of people wore boxing gloves, but the goal was different. My father and I were at the Rocky Run, and women, children, blacks, Latinos, Asians, and, of course, a bunch of Italians ran through the streets of Philly. Some were there to compete and test themselves, while others were there to do their best Rocky impression.

In a way, Rocky is the American dream. A guy with no natural talent finds his way in the world and reaches his full potential through grit and perseverance. Rocky gets fame and fortune, but honestly, his life doesn’t change so much when he gets it. All he wants to do is hang out with Adrian and Paulie.

People say the American dream is dead, but I think people just started to dream differently. They want it all. The fame, the fortune, to be filthy rich. The American dream is about finding someone you love and building a little life together that you both love. There are still a ton of places in America where you can afford to buy a white picket fence, but people want the penthouse apartment instead. The American dream never promised anybody that. 

My father and I shivered in a pack of runners at 5:30 AM in the freezing cold, waiting to be launched into this run. Neither of us is a runner per se, but we are doers and thank God we both have two legs, so on that day, we were no different from the rest of the pack.

Together, we run as one.

My father once wrote a song about a Marathon, and the words are deeper than most Beatles songs. He’ll probably never get the credit he deserves, but then again, some people heard and got the message, so maybe that was the song’s purpose. Art doesn’t need to be seen by everyone for it to mean something.

At one point, America ran together as one. We had the same values, the same enemies, the same goals. We had a lot of things wrong, but a group running together in the same direction is always better than scattered chaos. Who knows where the country will go. The Rocky Run people ran beside the Philadelphia River and up toward the Rocky Steps. Then, after my father and I grabbed our medals, we both agreed a breakfast was deserved.

If one of us wanted to shower first, chaos would have ensued.