Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

World AIDS Day 2004

It doesn't seem like a year since I wrote this.

But it has been a year. Tomorrow is December 1, World AIDS Day. The numbers:

39.4 million people with HIV or AIDS
4.9 million new infections this year
3.1 million deaths

Give or take 200,000. These numbers are just too huge for me to comprehend, and fighting a public health battle with numbers this big just seems so...I don't want to say hopeless. But it certainly isn't hopeful.

I just saw an article yesterday about Jim Wooten's new book We Are All The Same. The article opens with the problem of the staggering statistics and closes with this quote:

In contemplative moments, Wooten often recalls a mantra of the wise-beyond-his-years Nkosi Johnson: "Do all you can with what you have in the time you have in the place you are."

More tomorrow.

Rabies Recovery

You don't hear doctors and scientists throw the word "miracle" around very often:

Jeanna, 15, was diagnosed in October with human rabies. Her survival — one of just six documented recoveries in medical history — is being called a miracle. She is the only one of the six to have survived without receiving the rabies vaccine, according to the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta.

(Here's the full story.)

I've been casually following the story for several weeks, and I'm thrilled for the family.

But just to be on the safe side, if you do happen to be bitten by a bat (or any other animal where you can't verify its vaccine status), get the shots. For more, here's the CDC Rabies page.

Regardless of whether Santa comes

I'll be rewarded well this Christmas. I know this because I've been buying my own presents: more art, a new cell phone, and a Palm Zire.

Not exactly the spirit of the season, is it?

What I did on Black Friday

Why would anybody get up at 5 am to shop? I mean, yeah, $20 for a DVD player is a good buy, but it's a gamble as to whether you'll actually get one, and is it worth standing in line for two hours?

No way I'd squander a few hours of precious sleep on a holiday just to shop.

Nope, if I'm going to get up a 5 am on a day off, it's gonna be for a good reason:

Happy Thanksgiving

Today was the last charity walk of the season, the Turkey Trot for So Others Might Eat.

And while it started out unusually warm for November (and considerably warmer than last year), you could see the cold front moving in...

...in the form of ominous clouds. And it did start to rain just before the race began, so I have no pictures from the actual route. (But it was up and back on Ohio Drive, so the pictures of the Jefferson Memorial from last week should suffice.)

I actually would not have minded being in a warm costume once the rain began. And I can't believe how blurry this is...I guess I must have been moved by the wind.

The rain had pretty much stopped by the end of the walk, so I did pause for a few more pictures. Including, of course...

My favorite Thanksgiving Tradition

...is the local radio station playing Alice's Restaurant.

That reminds me of a staff meeting several years ago when our boss brought up an upcoming audit we were likely to have. He said that we'd be "inspected, detected, infected, neglected, and selected." I looked at him and said "Shrink, I wanna kiiiiiill."

Nobody else in the meeting got it, but my boss loved it. Heh. I used to get the best performance reviews from that guy...

Stop me if you've heard this one...

No, don't stop me. It's all I've got today, and what the heck. It's funny every time.

A young man named John received a parrot as a gift. The parrot had a bad attitude and an even worse vocabulary. Everything out of the bird's mouth was rude, obnoxious and laced with profanity.

John tried and tried to change the bird's attitude by consistently saying only polite words, playing soft music and anything else he could think of to "clean up" the bird's vocabulary. Finally, John was fed up and he yelled at the parrot.

The parrot yelled back.

John shook the parrot and the parrot got angrier and even ruder.

John, in desperation, threw up his hand, grabbed the bird and put him in the freezer.

For a few minutes the parrot squawked and kicked and screamed. Then suddenly there was total quiet. Not a peep was heard for over a minute. Fearing that he'd hurt the parrot, John quickly opened the door to the freezer.

The parrot calmly stepped out onto John's outstretched arms and said "I believe I may have offended you with my rude language and actions. I'm sincerely remorseful for my inappropriate transgressions and I fully intend to do everything I can to correct my rude and unforgivable behavior."

John was stunned at the change in the bird's attitude. As he was about to ask the parrot what had made such a dramatic change in his behavior, the bird continued, "May I ask what the turkey did?"

Normally, yes, but today the cat ate it

I have a salad for lunch today, but I decided a salad wouldn't be enough, so I walked down to a bakery that's about a block from the office.

Inside the bakery there was a big sign over the counter that said "Today's Breads" with a list of six kinds. I asked for a loaf of the first one listed, a nine-grain.

"We don't have that," said the clerk.

Okay...what do you have?"

She pointed above her to the sign.

"The sign says nine grain," I said.

"Oh, that's old," she answered, handing me a sheet of paper.

The list on the paper matches the sign, including the nine grain. Whatever. "Ok, can I get a loaf of the honey whole wheat?"

"We don't have that."

"That's on the list, too," I said, showing it to her. "What do you have?"

She started to read the list to me.

"Okay, then, do you have the country white?"

"Not for about two more hours," she said.

"Do you have any--" I started, whereupon she turned to the customer behind me and asked if she wanted a coffee refill.

Whereupon I left...never, as they say, to return. In a Monty Python skit, it's funny. When I'm hungry, it isn't.

Thickening the soup

I imagine that my affinity for Washington comes through loud and clear in my blog. I am a blatent and unaplogetic home-towner. But I'm not blind to the problems we have here, and it isn't heaven on earth...just a regular community struggling with regular problems.

There was an article in yesterday's paper about how charities are having trouble meeting the demand for Thanksgiving this year, since donations are down and requests for help are up. Someone from one of the nonprofits put it this way: "Either you thin the soup or cut the line."

In the opening remarks at the Walkathon yesterday, Eleanor Holmes Norton (D.C.'s non-voting delegate to the House of Representatives, for those of you not familiar with our local politics) mentioned that 1/3 of the homeless people in the area work. Then of course you have the working poor who can afford rent, as long as they don't buy food. This is an expensive place to live...rent on a 2-bedroom apartment where I am is about $1200 a month. There's a waiting list for subsidized housing, a waiting list that's closed to new applicants.

I give money to the health-related charities for myself, because those are the diseases I'm trying to avoid. I support the food- and shelter-related organizations because there but for the grace of God go I. It hasn't been that long since I was living paycheck to paycheck, and while I have a tightly-woven safety net of friends and family close by, not everyone is that fortunate.

I realized this week that I can do another small thing besides write some checks. It began, interestingly enough, with the dump...I'd gone to the web page for the municipal solid waste department to look up a recycling guide. They have a program called the "Use it Again Guide" that lists organizations accepting donations. I found one that needs household goods for families transitioning to their own homes from shelters as well as school and craft supplies for the kids. I looked around at the extra coffee pot, the extra vaccum cleaner, the drawers of pens and magic markers and craft projects that never got off the ground.

This will cost me nothing...it helps me, actually, clean up my house...and hopefully it will thicken the soup a little for this organization and help out some of my neighbors.

Another Saturday

Another group of pictures to prove I live in Washington.

Today was the Help the Homeless Walkathon, a 5K around the Tidal Basin and Mall. As always, even on a fairly gloomy day (but mild, which I appreciate) I was struck by how beautiful this city is.

More pictures (including geese, of course) in my gallery.

Arthur

Have I introduced Arthur?

As you can see, he's lacking in the fur department. So as winter has been creeping in, I've been worried about him keeping warm. The other day I made him a little sweater.

Arthur.
Does.
Not.
Like.
Sweaters.

Why am I still up?

So feeling woolly might not be about stress. Now I have a headache and a sore throat and a stuffy nose. I oughta be in bed, but Maryland is playing Virginia Tech, if you can call it playing...

It's 41-3 at the half.

Four turnovers.

Fridge said a naughty word on his way into the locker room.

That may be while I'm still watching...I want to see if the boys come out fired up. The tv guys have declared the game over, but hey, remember Frank Reich?

Unlike the rest of the ACC teams, I actually like Tech. Several of my friends went there (more than stayed home to embrace in-state tuition, in fact) and I saw lots of games at Lane Stadium. Frank Beamer was just starting out, and the Hokies were no better than we were.

It was a little easier to like them then, I will say.

I'm bummed about Maryland's season, of course. I got used to bowl games, and this season...well, it's more like I saw when I was in school.

And without the Capitals, with Maryland looking like there's not gonna be a game over New Year's, and with the 'Skins not seeming like they want to play in January either, I'll have plenty of free time to catch up on the sleep I am losing tonight.

Form Follows Function

In case you ever wondered why:

In fact, running seems to be the only reason that we have prominent buttocks, says Lieberman. He has measured the activity of the gluteus maximus muscle in volunteers during a walk and a jog. "When they walk their glutes barely fire up," he says. "But when they run it goes like billy-o."

I've always assumed my buttocks would be less prominant if I got off them and tried some long-distance running, frankly. Earlier in the article they mention "sturdy knee joints," though, and mine are sooo not sturdy.

Nuke had it right after all

I'm feeling woolly.

Weary too, yes. I do get weary. But that doesn't change that I'm also woolly.

And I think it has a lot to do with the stress.

Speaking of Bull Durham, back in my early days with an Internet connection, a sound card, and Windows 95, I went a little nuts. I had movie clip .wav files assigned to everything. When I got mail, I heard "Hamburgers. The cornerstone of any nutritious breakfast." When I shut down, it was "Here's looking at you, kid."

And some action prompted the bit of dialogue where Crash gets himself thrown out of the game by calling the umpire a certain word that's a no-no with umpires. Remember that scene? The certain word over and over about ten times? One day when I was on the phone and messing with the computer I triggered that action...

I don't even have the volume up on my pc anymore.

Anyway, this stream of consciousness post should prove my original point: I'm woolly.

Sweet potatoes

There have been a few Thanksgivings I spent away from home, and the greatest disappointment eating somewhere besides my mom's has always been the sweet potatoes. Some are better than others (and those that involve marshmallows should not exist), but none are as good as my mother's.

Not that Mom can take credit; she merely uses a particularly good recipe, namely the one from the King's Arms Tavern in Williamsburg.

And I was able to find that same recipe online (saving me a trip downstairs to look it up in my copy of The Williamsburg Cookbook). The potatoes are on the second page...and by the way, the peanut soup and the ham relish are really good, too.

Heart Walk

Some pictures from the Heart Walk last Saturday:

Half of American adults will die from heart disease? Half? After I thought about that for a minute...and all the conditions that fall under the umbrella "heart disease"...it wasn't hard to believe. I think every older adult in my family has some cardiovascular problem, which is why I'm out walking.

The American Heart Association web page has quite a lot of useful information, like how to recognize signs of stroke or heart attack, calculators to identify your heart disease risk, where to go for CPR training...and recipes, lots of recipes.

Saturday was a two-fleece morning.

A good crowd of walkers, many from workplace or family teams.

The lake isn't quite as picturesque now that most of the leaves have fallen.

But the geese are still here. I don't think these geese actually migrate...this is far enough south for them. I will have to check on them when it snows.

(The pictures are thumbnails; click for larger images.)

Speaking of shopping

...who buys this stuff?

If it can be purchased through the mail, I get the catalog. Seriously. Today's mail included a catalog of organic potatoes. Potatoes! (To be fair, I think they also sell parsnips and other root vegetables.)

The potatoes looked pretty sensible, though, when I saw a sweat suit in the next catalog. It was pink. It had a zip-front hooded top and drawstring pants. It was made out of cashmere and it cost more that $250.

Two hundred and fifty bucks for a sweat suit?

And I can't imagine you'd wear it to the gym...it is cashmere.

But I can't see wearing it to work or out for a nice evening on the town...it is a freaking sweat suit.

I can only guess the purchasers of such a thing would be people applying my totally random method of gift-buying, but at a much higher dollar level.

How many shopping days...?

The other morning on the way to the gym I noticed the holiday lights were up in the shopping center. (The gym is open at 5:30 a.m. twice a week now, and at 5:30 it is very dark and the lights show up very well.) My first thought, of course, was the usual "I hate the way they rush the season..." At work later in the day, though, I realized...six weeks. And take from those six weeks Thanksgiving, a trip to Pennsylvania, several projects and meetings at the office, three charity walks, a doctor's appointment, a couple of parties, and I have...six hours to do my Christmas shopping.

So early this morning I visited Amazon.com and spent a paycheck, and all I have to do is wait for the big box to arrive.

And when I unpack it, I'll figure out who I actually need presents for, and what random thing they are gonna get.

Hey, I never said this was a good method...

You Can't Shouldn't Go Home Again

Ever pull out those depressing record albums you used to listen to when you were 17?

I don't recommend it.

On the other hand, incipient arthritis and grey hairs not withstanding...God, I'm glad I grew up.

Little people

I am a geek. I read science magazines for fun. But I'm a niche geek...some science fascinates and excites me (mostly chemisty and the various medical branches), some makes my eyes glaze over.

Archeology is one of the subjects that usually leaves me unmoved, but every once in awhile there's a story so cool even I take notice:

Little lady of Flores forces rethink of human evolution

I think what has me intrigued is the idea that Homo floresiensis existed concurrently with Homo sapiens, so those folk tales about the "little people" may actually be oral history, not just wild stores made up to amuse or frighten the children.

And that intrigues me, of course, because now I can go back to hoping a leprechaun will lead me to some gold...

the 11th day of the 11th month

WHEREAS the 11th of November 1918, marked the cessation of the most destructive, sanguinary, and far reaching war in human annals and the resumption by the people of the United States of peaceful relations with other nations, which we hope may never again be severed, and

WHEREAS it is fitting that the recurring anniversary of this date should be commemorated with thanksgiving and prayer and exercises designed to perpetuate peace through good will and mutual understanding between nations...

...from the 1926 Congressional proclaimation for the observance of Armistice Day.

And on sunny days...

I just heard that November 10, 1969, was the debut of Sesame Street.

Anybody besides me remember when Oscar the Grouch was orange? (Although at the time, our TV was black and white. Anybody else remember black and white television? Or the UHF dial?)

Edmund Fitzgerald

It is the 29th anniversary of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

I can't add anything to what I wrote last year, but this date always sticks in my mind.

Somebody tell me No

Darn Amazon. I didn't even know this thing existed until I saw it on the home page today (and I was visiting Amazon for selfless reasons, too, looking for someone else's Wish List) and now I want it.

I'm looking over the bank account going "Hmmmmm..."

I'm thinking about all the digital pictures that I never look at because I never print them out.

I think about the inexplicable iPod crush I've had lately.

Please, somebody, tell me that you have one and it sucks.

Stay home

My office (like most places, I'm sure) has this macho attitude about working through illness. You know "Did you see Bob? He coughed up a lung , but he still came in here and gave the Smith presentation. What a team player!"

I'm on a campaign to stop this. It's time to make Bob a pariah, not a hero. When he comes in to do the Smith presentation, that bastard sheds his virus all over the freaking office, and 14 more people end up sick.

So, Bob...keep your germy ass at home. We can carry on without you. Not only are you contagious, you look and sound disgusting.

I am not a hero. I stay at home when I'm sick, not out of concern for others, but because I know from experience that I'm not that important. Some winters ago, right before the holidays, I came down with a stomach thing. It hit one night when I was on my way home from work...literally. Ever puke at 70 mph in the middle lane of a highway? (It was like a "no atheists in foxholes" thing...I was just praying I wouldn't lose control of the car.) I was sick all night...in retrospect, I belonged in an emergency room. But at 7 am I dragged myself back to the office, exhausted and dehydrated, because I had a project that I just had to finish. Oh yes, I had promised it to another department, my assistant was already on Christmas vacation, and I knew they needed this report. They'd told me so.

So like I said, I hauled my pathetic sick self in (infecting no one, since there was no one in the day before Christmas to infect.) And I finished the report and sent it. And I called the guy I sent it to to make sure he had no questions, because I needed to go home and die. And when I got his voicemail, I found out he'd decided to take the day off.

Lesson learned.

Now I just need to teach Bob.

Another Whoopass Jamboree loss

The Pirates lost to the Bridgeport Sound Tigers, supported by Tuning Spork (who is apparently on hiatus, and probably wouldn't notice if I failed to display the logo, but I'm a rules-obeying type).

I gotta say, considering my track record, I'm not doing too badly in the Whoopass Jamboree. Last night Portland came from behind to beat Worcester (I caught some of the game on the Internet radio feed...it was like listening to Jim Carr), and they're doing well in general against non-Jamboree teams.

Next Saturday they play the Albany River Rats...that'll be close to home.

Thanksgiving Rehearsal

One of the nice things about living fifteen minutes (ok, twenty-five, with current traffic) from the house where I grew up is that the house is still occupied by my parents, and I never have to cook holiday dinners. I just show up at home in the late afternoon. Actually, that works pretty well with dinner any day of the year, but I try not to abuse it.

Anyway, this Thanksgiving dinner may be a big one (latest estimate was possibly 16 people) so I thought I should contribute something. Last year my healthy-crust pumpkin pie turned out well. This year my grandmother, who can't eat dairy, will be there, so I thought I'd try to tofu version of the pumpkin pie. That required a test run, though.

Also included among the possible guests are a few vegetarians. Since I've been moving toward that myself, I offered to bring Tofurky kielbasa (yes, the family always has kielbasa at holiday dinners, regardless of the rest of the menu. The Polish influence is strong. And yes, my grandfather might indeed be spinning in his grave at the idea of vegan kielbasa. And yes, I have had it, and while it isn't real kielbasa by a long shot, it isn't bad.) and a "traditional vegetarian Thanksgiving entree" called Three Sisters Stew.

The "three sisters" are corn, beans, and squash. Whether this is a real Native American term or a real traditional recipe I've no idea, but it sounded pretty good...but again, before offering this at a holiday table, I needed to do a test.

The recipe is all over the Internet, just Google "Three Sisters Stew." This was my adaptation:

Cut a 2-pound butternut squash in half and remove seeds. Put the halves cut-side up in a baking dish, add a little water, cover with foil and back for 40 minutes at 350 degrees. Cool, remove skin, and dice.

In a large, heavy pot:

Saute 1 chopped onion and 1 teaspoon of jarred minced garlic in 1 tablespoon of olive oil.

Add 1/2 a red pepper, seeded and cut into thin strips.

Add squash.

Add:
1 (15 oz.) can of pinto beans, drained
1 (15 oz.) can of corn, drained
1 (4 oz.) can of chopped green chilies
1 (15 oz.) can of diced tomatoes, undrained
1 cup of vegetable stock
2 teaspoons of oregano
1 teaspoon of ground cumin

Simmer for the length of the second half of a football game plus the post-game show.

Taste and add salt and pepper as needed. Just before serving, add two tablespoons of fresh cilantro. (I just held the cilantro over the pot and cut off little pieces of leaves with the kitchen shears.)

It was rather liquidy, so we ate it over brown rice. I think it could have used more cumin, and next time I may use frozen roasted corn instead of canned, to add a bit more flavor.

Overall, though, it passed the test, and I will take it for Thanksgiving.

Now the tofu pie...it was just the basic back-of-the-can pumpkin pie recipe, but using a package of silken tofu plus 1/3 cup of honey in place of the sweetened condensed milk. The consistancy was a little off, and the pumpkin/spice flavors were a little dilluted...if I try it again (depends on how Grandma feels about apple pie) I'll bump up the spices and honey a bit.

Now I need to start experimenting for Christmas.

Heart of gold

The dog had a cardiologist appointment today. With all the bad news on the pet front lately, with Pinky having to be put to sleep two weeks ago and Olie dying on Tuesday, I'm glad to report that the dog is doing well.

She does have a mitral valve prolapse, but a good prognosis there and no other problems.

It strikes me, when she's on the table and I'm looking at the multi-color image of the flow of blood through her heart, that my dog is getting better medical care than most of the human population of the world. I don't feel good about that.

But I have felt the cold wet nose of unconditional devotion, and it is worth more than gold, or even more than biennial cardiac sonograms.

I said Hockey, so here is Hockey

I miss hockey. I heard yesterday that the NHL All-Star game's been cancelled, not that I expected otherwise...but it's starting to sink in. And while I'm having no trouble filling the free time...we have lots of animals to keep happy, and actually, I still have many projects that I can't seem to get around to finishing...I'm restless. I oughta be downtown at least one night a week. I need to start surfing the sports channels to see if anyone is picking up the minor league stuff.

I'm still following the Pirates, true, but it isn't the same long distance. I think I'm going to try to get up to Hershey or down to Norfolk for a game before too long... I'm suffering from ice withdrawl.

Another version of my last post

I was hoping the shouting would die down today, and I could turn my attention back to hockey and...oh, damn.

Well, since I don't have hockey...

My ex and I had several e-mails back and forth today. Being politically opposite isn't why we are divorced, and in many ways I was actually better informed and more articulate about political issues when we were married, because I had to keep on my toes to debate him. In the course of today's messages, though, I did take umbrage when he called me an idiotarian (that term, and moonbat, send me over the edge. They are just too mean-spirited.)

He did eventually apologize, in his way (he didn't actually say he was sorry, he said that at least I'm a leftie who will listen to reason, and he likes debating me because I don't quote Michael Moore.)

I pointed him to the Jefferson address...specifically "But every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle. We have called by different names brethren of the same principle."

I wish I could make everyone on either side who insists on disparaging the other side write that a hundred times on the blackboard.

It's a good time to step back and look at the big picture.

This was not the final showdown of Good vs. Evil.

We have different priorities, different solutions, and even differing opinions on which situations are problems requiring solutions. Zoom out farther, bigger picture. Zoom out again. And again.

See? We're actually in the same place.

And it isn't red and blue.

Tomorrow, I'm talking about hockey.

What I hope to hear today at 3

Something like this:

During the contest of opinion through which we have passed the animation of discussions and of exertions has sometimes worn an aspect which might impose on strangers unused to think freely and to speak and to write what they think; but this being now decided by the voice of the nation, announced according to the rules of the Constitution, all will, of course, arrange themselves under the will of the law, and unite in common efforts for the common good. All, too, will bear in mind this sacred principle, that though the will of the majority is in all cases to prevail, that will to be rightful must be reasonable; that the minority possess their equal rights, which equal law must protect, and to violate would be oppression. Let us, then, fellow-citizens, unite with one heart and one mind. Let us restore to social intercourse that harmony and affection without which liberty and even life itself are but dreary things. And let us reflect that, having banished from our land that religious intolerance under which mankind so long bled and suffered, we have yet gained little if we countenance a political intolerance as despotic, as wicked, and capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions. During the throes and convulsions of the ancient world, during the agonizing spasms of infuriated man, seeking through blood and slaughter his long-lost liberty, it was not wonderful that the agitation of the billows should reach even this distant and peaceful shore; that this should be more felt and feared by some and less by others, and should divide opinions as to measures of safety. But every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle. We have called by different names brethren of the same principle. We are all Republicans, we are all Federalists.

from Thomas Jefferson's first Inaugural Address .

Paprika crisis

Hungry Hungary in spice crisis

Hungary stopped sales of paprika last week after finding a batch contaminated with aflatoxin. This is a big deal in Hungary: they export 5 tons of it a year, restaurants are having to scrap about half their menu offerings, and individual Hungarians (who consume an average of more than a pound of paprika a year) are struggling to figure out what to make for dinner.

I'm well stocked, thankfully. And I've been considering an experiment to see if my great-grandmother's chicken paprikash recipe is adaptable to Quorn...

Is there something funny about this picture?

I didn't intend to do any election blogging...but I just noticed this on the Post web page:

To vote or not to vote

I really can't imagine not voting. I've voted in every election since turning 18, including the "off years" and the ones that required getting an absentee ballot. (As a military dependent, I was able to technically remain a Maryland resident when I was stuck Down South.)

On the other hand, it doesn't particularly offend me if someone doesn't vote. If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice, as it were. Still I can't say I understand that particular choice.

Gene Weingarten had a really good piece about that in Sunday's Washington Post Magazine: None of the Above. That and the followup chat are good reading for today, and to round it out, there's an op-ed, too.

UPDATE: Shortly after I posted this, my ex called and asked if I'd voted yet. I figured this was his usual attempt to convince me not to vote, since we cancel each other out anyway. It's just a joke. But actually he was calling to tell me that at his polling site, he was listed as having received an absentee ballot and therefore couldn't vote. Pretty interesting, since he hadn't requested said absentee ballot. He was more than a bit irked, and I don't blame him.

My guess, based solely on knowing someone who knows someone who works for the Board of Elections, is that it was a clerical error. I heard the Board was frantically hiring people during October to process the ballot requests and registrations, so I'm sure there were errors. Probably statistically insignificant errors, but I feel a little bad for my ex. Tonight will be the first time in 16 years that he'll go to sleep on election night without the satisfaction of having countered my liberal choices...

Somebody? Anybody? Trick or treat?

I didn't get 137 trick-or-treaters. I don't think we even had thirty. (At least it was more than seven, but not by much.)

My neighborhood is full of kids. Every night when I come home from work it takes twenty minutes to park, because the kids are filling the street with their bikes and soccer balls and hopscotch games. Why weren't the little monsters out begging me for candy?

I admit it...I'm bummed. It ain't like it was when I was kid, and that makes me sad.