This is what you danced to at that club when you were so fritzed that the lights ran water and you drank yourself dehydrated. But you danced. Oh did you dance.
Driving into a setting sun, still-green trees rush by with a gleam of orange as you cruise down a winding road, summer in your hair, Fall at your back tires.
As literary, observational, and pensive as it is a humorous celebration of “the little things,” The Trouble With Sweeney give Philly another reason to be proud.