I ’ve lived all of my 59 years in New Jersey. I grew up in a new york basketball t shirt sized city where homes were right next to each other. The streets were our playground . Football, baseball , stickball, we played them all in the streets. Sometimes an elderly neighbor would complain about our noise or become upset by footballs bouncing off cars and call the police. The police would stop by, ask us to cut down on the noise and go their way. The bicycle was king. It took us everywhere. No parents shuttling us between play dates. If we wanted to go somewhere, we took our bikes. Fast forward 20 or so years I moved to the “country”. At least New Jersey’s version of it. Not quite like the country in Alabama, Vermont or Nebraska, but where I live now I can’t put the trash out too early, lest the local bear will rip into it.
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