A Story for Another Day...

Have you seen The Wire?

No?! I recommended it almost a year ago! Why are you even reading if you're not planning to follow my advice?

Well, this post probably won't resonate as much if you haven't either
A) seen The Wire
B) lived or worked in the ghetto

If neither apply I recommend coming back to read the rest after you've accomplished one or the other....

My office is located in a lower income area. The office itself is in an Ok part of the city. It's not great, but it's Ok. Especially in the daylight. After dark it gets a bit questionable. (Let's just say it's not uncommon to find used syringes, dime bags, random articles of clothing, or even a homeless man in the dark corner of our parking lot). Leaving the office, in route to the highway, is a different story. It involves 10 long blocks down 4th Street.

Barred windows and porches.
Exchanges. Pass-offs. Runners.
Long deliberate hand shakes.
Desperate faces. Searching, begging, needing.
Gatherings in a sketchy chinese take-out place.
An occasional Escalade or a car with a really nice rims delayed on the side street.

(And that's just what I've observed with guick glances each night. I'm not exactly gawking)

In the winter, when it's pitch dark on my way home, I locked my door and pray to hit all the green lights.

Now that it's staying light longer, there are still loads of little kids running around and the roughest of the crowd hasn't taken over. The corners are still full, but the vibe is better. Safer. I allow myself to keep my window down. (I don't think the window matters really. If I'm in the way of some stray gun fire, a little glass isn't going to help.)

A few weeks ago on the first nice night, I was cruising down 4th Street enjoying the fact that there was still sunlight and a nice warm breeze. It seemed to hit me that my normal choice of music is not exactly appropriate for the neighborhood. Being a me (white. women.) is bad enough. I'm not really trying to draw extra attention to myself with Bob Dylan blaring from my Subaru.

So, I asked one of the guys from work if he could get me some rap music. After a bit of discussion of my choices (of which include a copy of an ex-employee, shirt less on the front of his debut album) I decided on Paper Trail.

And that is how I came to own a copy of the latest T.I. CD for my evening cruise down 4th Street...