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Penn Treaty Park is the kind of park that a director would put in a movie that takes places in a city. It’s on the Delaware River, for one, with a nice view of the Ben Franklin Bridge on one side and a huge old PECO building on the other. Moreover, it’s populated with a diverse cast of city dwellers. The first time I went there, the park featured fathers playing catch with their children, teenagers smoking weed, and men singing in a barbershop quartet. A fucking barbershop quartet, the sort of thing that a director would put in his movie park to give it a look of down-home culture. Right there. Basically: it’s a nice place to look at the water, a nice place to play Frisbee, and, apparently, a nice place to sing.
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