Of course, it wasn’t all quite so charming. One of those stickball kids from my block in Carroll Gardens used to yell the same greeting every time he saw me and my sister. ” Then he’d jump on his bike and chase us, threatening to whack us with his broomstick bat. We’d flee to the safety of our stoop and taunt back, “We’re on private property, you can’t get us.” And, for whatever reason, he’d respect that and ride off.
It’s hard to square my feelings about my home borough with how it’s changed. Some things are better, like having good coffee within walking distance of just about anywhere, and the fact that you’re now far less likely to get your head beaten in on the street (in broad daylight, in fact, and so badly that your eardrum ruptures and you can whistle air out of it, to the amazement of your friends).
