A picture of the town you live in:
Rather than give an actual snapshot of my town, I’ll do my best to prosaically (if you will) paint a picture of it. The little burg that I’m happy to call home (for the time being) is called College Park. Why do I feel like I’m disclosing too much in blogland? Ah well. If they wanna getcha they can getcha.
Anyway, back to my pastoral life in College Park. I’ve heard it called the chocolate city within a chocolate city—we deep over here. And yes there are instances that make you shake your head and go into your Bill Cosby tough love/slightly ‘sedity’ bag (that’s ‘bourgeoisie’ for the Boule and the un-Boule set), but mostly I see things that make me proud to belong to this community of hard scrabble survivors. My neighbors are heaven-sent. The staff at my local grocery store is invariably kind and helpful. There are little league teams with Coaches that mean well and really want to see the children thrive. I feel comfortable around these folks. Yes there’s the occasional suspect apprehension in your neighborhood. And yes, there’s the occasional Walgreen’s robbery, but for the most part I see a people determined to hold on to what they worked hard for and determined have their American dream their way—no matter what they say about it.