My mother and father used to like to sit on the front porch a lot. They liked to say hello to the neighbors, watch the day go by, just generally enjoy the outdoors through the comfort of their screened-in sanctuary. But gradually the neighborhood turned. People congregated on the corner and sometimes argued. There'd be fights in the night. Loud, smoky, rusted-out vehicles drove too fast down the street. People walked in the middle of the street, on their way to or from a drug deal. A young couple, obviously strung-out every time I saw them, would walk their neglected dog past my parents' house almost every day. My dad nicknamed one soul "hat, coat and gloves," because that's always what he wore, even in the middle of August. Vehicles would camp out in front of the apartment across the street, motor running, at all hours. Pleasant porch how-do-you-dos became neighborhood watches. My dad, would often go out on the porch in the evening ... and call the police. I cou...
Up all hours talking baseball, cardboard & collecting