Coffee heat rising

Lemme Outta This Place!

Seriously….  If my son did not object SO vociferously to the idea that I should move to some other precinct in the Phoenix area, I would be sooooo radically OUTTA here.

But he does. I think it’s because he wants his muther and his father and New Wife and himself to be within easy shootin’ distance. Just now we all live in the venerable North Central part of lovely uptown Phoenix.

If I had my way, I’d live one HELLUVA lot further from the noise, the crime, the goddamnable lightrail, the crime, the vagrants, the goddamnable lightrail, the constant cop helicopter flyovers, the goddamnable lightrail, the…you get the idea.

Although this neighborhood is on the fringe of tony North Central, it is decidedly fringe. The lightrail brings homeless, drug-shooting, thieving transients up to the end of the line, on the northwestern corner of our neighborhood, and tosses them off here to wander through our streets, alleys, and yards; to sleep in our carports; to steal anything that’s not red-hot or nailed down. Directly to the north of us is one of the toughest districts in the city, sweetly called “Sunnyslope,” an incubator of crime and long the hometown of the local Hell’s Angels. Consequently we have cop helicopters roaring overhead all the freakin’ time.

And y’know…  rrrrrrrrooooaaaaarrr rrroooaarr roar roar roar roar is not a very soothing lullaby. Earlier this afternoon we had a cop copter chasing around the neighborhood and then settling on the alley behind the Funny Farm. Back and forth. Forth and back. Around and around and around. Roar roar roar roar roar…  45 minutes of it…

Godlmighty, who and what are they chasing out there?

Get up. Check the doors. Lock the last door the pooch went out and then came back in. Set a phone next to the chair I’m loafing in. Cancel the plan to get in the car and drive off to the Costco, lest a sh!thead breach the defenses while I’m gone.

How tired am I of this stuff?

Seriously, it’s business as usual here in the’Hood, the cost of living in a centrally located middle-class urban neighborhood. And…

Am.

I.

Tired.

Of it!!!!

If I had my way, I’d move to Fountain Hills ((cheap construction; questionable whether the benefits outweigh the hassles). That’s assuming I wanted to stay in the crime-ridden Valley of the We-D0-Mean Sun. Alternatively, I’d pick Prescott (nice little burg, but a bit too tourist-ridden), Santa Fe (New Mexico), the Oro Valley (suburb of Tucson), Patagonia (artsy-craftsy community nigh unto Nogales, Mexico)…. Hmmm….

The truth is, few or maybe none of these places would be a huge improvement. You think you’re getting away from the cop fly-overs by moving to Sun City? Wait’ll you hear the fighter jets out of Luke AFB! Makes the cop helicopters sound like a lullaby.

Keeeripes! Where can you live in These Newnited States where you don’t have to keep deadbolt locks on every exterior door, alarms on every window, and a pistol close at hand? Where the ambient noise isn’t enough to drive you nuts?

IS there any such place?

Certainly not here. You don’t dare even drive down the street without locking your doors. Twice, I’ve had unsavory types try to pull my car doors open at stoplights — one of them was a guy who, according to that evening’s news, was a violent SOB on the run from the cops.

Surely there must be SOME place left in the good ole U.S. of A. where you can live in peace. Anybody know where it is?

 

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