I can't say it's the nicest neighborhood I've ever visited. Poorly planned housing projects stand empty and abandoned. Weird obsessive neighbors refuse to cut their grass. Others neighbors seem friendly, but are incomprehensible. A few stand in their yards and jabber at me about things that should best be left inside their heads.
Things like:

As I was driving my nephew and niece to Toys R Us yesterday morning, two-year old Ethan joined in the finale of Hey Jude playing on the CD and four-year old Bernice sang along to the track, Gambler, by Kenny Rogers. I started to wonder if I was cool influence for their pop culture development.

You can stop wondering, buddy.

Or how about this?

7:00 am Tuesday.

Trying to think what to blog about. What will happen today?

Ahhhh.... The garbage truck just pulled in and hauled away another dumpster of trash. The dumpster has been full for the last 4 weeks. That means the Z shop, greenhouses and yard are getting cleaner. A great game it is to fill the dumpster each week. We are on a winning dumpster streak now.

7:25 am. Gee another thought. Whoops lost it.

7:40 am. Just got back from the bathroom. Speaking of trash..........

Or this:

I hate blogs. I find the idea of a public journal revolting. I feel the cultural voyeurism that has inspired the blog hysteria to be an illness. We have become too interested in the private lives of others, in their secret confessions, in the dark holes in their hearts. The anonymity of the internet allows us the freedom to share and read these confessions without the consequences. It's like reading the diary of a girl half way across the country. She doesn't worry that you'll share here secrets with her friends, and you don't have to worry about getting caught.

Nice way to start your blog, fella.

It was a nice little walk, but I'm glad to be home -- back inside the gates of the Lost City.