Story of my life: Once I’m done with something, that’s when it suddenly becomes cool. The New York Times has discovered my previous neighborhood, Mount Airy.
Which I loved, but I absolutely hated those frickin’ cobblestones on Germantown Avenue. People used to mobilize to protect them every time the city wanted to pave over them, insisting they were part of the area’s Colonial charm — when they weren’t. They were put in place in the late 1800s. It was a nightmare, walking across the street on those things, and even worse driving. “Charm”? Bah, you can keep it.
Hey, I know Mount Airy. In the late 1970s a friend was working as a house parent at a group home for people with developmental disabilities. I used to visit her her… I loved the house that had been bought and transformed into a a group home. The communal living room had a bay window with window seat and I loved to sit there in the sun. She had a small apartment on the top floor but had to spend a specified amount of time in the communal areas beyond the time for overseeing meal times and such. I took lots of walks around the neighborhood.