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Wednesday, June 16, 2004


We live in one of the safest cities in the US. Good to know. Link here. This will no doubt cause a stir in Lancaster, since the perception lingers that it's nothing but a crime-ridden swamp. It does no good to show some people statistics. They've had their experiences, and nothing can shake them of the lessons they teach, even if it happened thirty years ago.

Oh, well. We haven't had a lick of trouble so far. More city for us, I suppose.

We've been getting out to walk the dogs and explore our new city fairly regularly in the past week or two. Every night brings a new block, a new house or restaurant tucked away in an alley. It's a commonplace in these parts, but it is true: if you want to get to know Lancaster, you need to walk it. You'll miss too much by car.

I like it all: the narrow streets, the brick alleys that run between the houses, with just a hint of green back yard peeking out. Occasionally, you'll bump into a house with a particularly beautiful front door, an inviting porch, perhaps a turret on one corner. But my favorite experience to date on our new walking paths has been passing by an older Puerto Rican man on his porch, two nights in a row. Each night, he's been out taking the air, watching a console television he keeps under a tarp by his living room window. On the porch, not in the house.

Seriously.

He's even got cable: we caught him watching the History Channel last night...

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