Y’know, my good Realtor Friend, a guy named John Shackleford, did me one of the greatest favors anyone ever did for me: by bringing me to this house, in this neighborhood.
What a lovely, peaceful, pretty place to live!
Ruby and I just got back from one of our circumnavigations of the ‘Hood. And oh, my! What a pretty day.
The park: brilliant emerald green in the spring sunshine. The weather; insanely beautiful. The kids: playing magnificently in the park, kicking balls and chasing around. The dogs: handsomely trotting along beside their humans. The sky, delicately painted with fine, thin white clouds against a deep blue background. The birds: singing and flying around in avian joy.
What more could you possibly want, eh?
Just now, I can’t think of much.
It really is a beautiful, upper-middle-class North Central Phoenix neighborhood. Just about anything you want or need is within easy walking distance — as I’ve discovered to my amazement, now that my son has kiped my car.
Yes, it’s true: living here, I actually don’t need a car! Get rid of the chariot, and come to find out you have, within easy walking distance,
- 3 top-flight grocery stores
- a veterinarian
- a computer store
- a bookstore/computer software store
- a hair stylist
- a doctor (of sorts)
- a magnificently stocked drugstore
- 3 pharmacies
- 2 major urban hospitals with top-rated emergency rooms
- a fine young lawyer
One could go on and on…but basically, the message is, you can get about 95% of the goods and services you need without ever setting foot in a gasoline-powered vehicle.
Y’know, this characteristic of the neighborhood never fully dawned on me until after my son kiped my car. I mean…well, of course I knew all these places were here. But until the car disappeared from my garage, it never really registered with me that I didn’t need to drive to these places!
Seriously: in the summertime, get going early enough and you can do your errands before the heat comes up. Raining? Call an Uber…like, the one whose owner lives straight across the streeet. (Turns out a half-dozen Uber drivers live right here in the Hood!)
It’s every bit as good as San Francisco in that way. When my mother and I lived there, back in the Dark Ages of the late 1950s and early 60s, we did have a car. But we never used it unless my mother and I had to drive across the Bay to pick up my father when his ship came in. (He was a Merchant Marine pilot.) I’d guess we never turned on the ignition more than twice a month.
And now, between Uber and just about every daily need within easy walking distance, I find myself in the same situation. I don’t really need a car!
Mwa ha ha!!!
My son has it in his garage. And frankly, he can have the damn thing. I may sign over the registration to him, next time I have to pay for it.