The "New" Neighborhood:

Ike thinks the main road we take to get here is an industrial wasteland. He is small-town. In a big city, this would still be a fairly decent neighborhood even if it is near the tracks, so to speak. The businesses here don't pollute.

The main road near the tracks is really a mix between small businesses, warehouses and private residences. This neighborhood itself would be called working-class, I suppose. The people here are very often young and are upwardly mobile. Two-thirds of the homes are privately owned residences and are well cared for. The other third are rentals that drag real estate values down. My house would sell for the same amount that I bought it for in the 80's before the housing glut drove prices down all over town.

I see this housing edition as an island situated on the right side of the wrong side of the railroad tracks. Or rather there is a siding that creates a private quarter to the north, separating this housing edition from the older homes on the other side. The homes here were built in answer to the need for housing after WWII and this is the only street in the neighborhood where the houses are not identical, or rather, not tract housing.

I took the long route to get to my point. In order to cross the tracks there are about four streets that have railroad crossings we can choose from. On one, that I rarely choose to take, there is a very old, decrepit two-story house. It is oddly built as though it grew organically according to the whim of its owners over the last century. I think it was probably one of the old farm houses that were here even before any other homes were built. It is painted two different colors and all the paint is peeling. The front porch sports a swan on each porch post. I always thought it was rather queer until I took a second look one morning when I wasn't in a hurry. The back door is surrounded by Christmas lights that the owner even lights on April evenings. More importantly than its condition, its odd shape, its swans, is its parklike yard, if you could call it that. Simply, the house is surrounded by trees planted in straight rows and probably four or five city lots of pure green grass.

There is an impressive aspect to it and I pointed this out to Ike one day. I think it is proof that even those who have little money and few assets can still have their own little piece of heaven and this is one that belongs to some small family who likes to enjoy their lives. It's evidenced in the Christmas lights around the back door and in the two chairs that sit facing toward the open tree covered lot between the house and the railroad tracks. A swingset sits in the shade of the trees a stones throw from the chairs. It would be a quiet place except for the trains.

While most of us are chasing our tails and trying to keep up with the Jones', these people have managed to obtain a house that takes their focus off the neighbors and to live life the way they want to live it. So, the point I wanted to make for Ike was to take the time to go sit out back after a hard day's work and enjoy what life has to offer rather than worrying about what you haven't got and what you may never be able to afford to have. And these people may be happier than their counterparts in their expensive houses out on snob hill. Some people just never get it: "Bloom where you are planted."