I have a theory.
My theory is that if you pick any square mile on earth, the ratio of good people to bad people would be the same the world over. City, country, upscale, slum, business, residential.
That said, let me tell you a bit about my corner of the world.
El Cajon means "the box" or "the drawer" and is a square shaped valley. The floor of the valley is flat, and the streets there are all straight lines. The sloping sides of the valley, with its twisting roads, large lots, open ranch houses and scenic views, are the 'good neighborhood'. This is where I grew up. This is where I'd like to buy a house.
Currently, I live on the flat floor. It's not ALL considered the 'bad neighborhood.' Many of the apartment buildings are being converted to condos, and with home ownership (however small) comes that essential shift to a feeling of respectability on that block.
So the flat bottom is checker-boarded with good blocks and squicky blocks.
I live on a vaguely respectable corner. The back alley behind me is a place I won't walk after dark, but the street out front is usually safe if you're alert. During the day, mothers walk their children to school, and it looks clean and nice. The liquor and gun shop is on my corner in one direction, two blocks the other direction is the definative line between good and bad, as the hill slopes up.
A few blocks away, in the direction of the liquor/gun store, is my gas station.
It's the sort of place where you have to look around before getting out of your car, and perhaps put your keys in your fist so that a key sticks out from between each knuckle, so if you have to swing at someone's face, you can take out an eye. (Can't chase you if they can't see you, I'm told.)
Can't beat the price on gas, though.
Last night while getting gas, a meth addict wanted my money, and the gas station owner and a Hell's Angel convinced him that moving along would be a better idea.
Not that it was a surprising incident, but it was a rather surreal one. The Hell's Angel practically tipped his hat to me. "None of THAT *nodding to the retreating methie* in OUR neighborhood" were his words. He then picked up a case of water bottles and walked back around the corner to the Hell's Angel's bar behind the gas station.
I bet the good to bad people ratio in that bar is the same ratio you'd find in any church.
People will surprise you. In good ways and bad.
Your hero will often come from unexpected places.
I wonder if I could call that bar and put a round of drinks on my credit card.
My theory is that if you pick any square mile on earth, the ratio of good people to bad people would be the same the world over. City, country, upscale, slum, business, residential.
That said, let me tell you a bit about my corner of the world.
El Cajon means "the box" or "the drawer" and is a square shaped valley. The floor of the valley is flat, and the streets there are all straight lines. The sloping sides of the valley, with its twisting roads, large lots, open ranch houses and scenic views, are the 'good neighborhood'. This is where I grew up. This is where I'd like to buy a house.
Currently, I live on the flat floor. It's not ALL considered the 'bad neighborhood.' Many of the apartment buildings are being converted to condos, and with home ownership (however small) comes that essential shift to a feeling of respectability on that block.
So the flat bottom is checker-boarded with good blocks and squicky blocks.
I live on a vaguely respectable corner. The back alley behind me is a place I won't walk after dark, but the street out front is usually safe if you're alert. During the day, mothers walk their children to school, and it looks clean and nice. The liquor and gun shop is on my corner in one direction, two blocks the other direction is the definative line between good and bad, as the hill slopes up.
A few blocks away, in the direction of the liquor/gun store, is my gas station.
It's the sort of place where you have to look around before getting out of your car, and perhaps put your keys in your fist so that a key sticks out from between each knuckle, so if you have to swing at someone's face, you can take out an eye. (Can't chase you if they can't see you, I'm told.)
Can't beat the price on gas, though.
Last night while getting gas, a meth addict wanted my money, and the gas station owner and a Hell's Angel convinced him that moving along would be a better idea.
Not that it was a surprising incident, but it was a rather surreal one. The Hell's Angel practically tipped his hat to me. "None of THAT *nodding to the retreating methie* in OUR neighborhood" were his words. He then picked up a case of water bottles and walked back around the corner to the Hell's Angel's bar behind the gas station.
I bet the good to bad people ratio in that bar is the same ratio you'd find in any church.
People will surprise you. In good ways and bad.
Your hero will often come from unexpected places.
I wonder if I could call that bar and put a round of drinks on my credit card.
7 Comments:
you know the kkk was started originally to protect widows and children during the civil war.
biker gangs are often very protection oriented.
that's not to say some aren't also very drug and alcohol oriented.
but who isn't these days?
I should join a biker gang...
Or, maybe start a gang.
I know, I could start a non-profit organization and call it 'A Biker Gang.'
I would agree with your theory about good vs bad people, but I would disagree with the area in which you sample. 1 square mile is too small a sample size. What if you sampled a one square mile of a drug-gang-prostitute infested town, as opposed to a square mile in montana...
I disagree. I think that drug-gang-prostitute mile would hold the same ratio as Montana. A drug addict was the first person to guess some of my most painful secrets and hold me as I cried. There is a member of a gang that offered to protect me anytime I needed him, for the rest of my life, all I have to do is call. A prostitute was the first person to make me feel beautiful.
I'm just sayin'.
I'd say I'd agree with you in theory, but disagree with you with respect to LA. Here, the bad people seriously outnumber the good people. And they are better hidden.
Sigh. I miss SD. I wish I could move back there.
Dude. Miss Kendra lives in LA. She counts for a bunch of good people, so the ratio holds.
But yes, San Diego is better, so come back!
'Gun shop'. hehehehe. That sounds so funny. I can't even imagine it, really!
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