Right, let’s dissect this whole “city lover” nonsense, shall we? Apparently, some people find the constant assault on the senses invigorating. They crave the feeling of being sardines in a can, jostled by tourists with selfie sticks and businessmen talking loudly into Bluetooth earpieces the size of their brains.
Me? I like a bit of breathing room. I do not need the soundtrack of my life to be a symphony of car horns and jackhammers. Don’t get me wrong, I was born in Boston. I know the city life. Dodging pigeons the size of terriers, navigating a minefield of discarded pizza boxes and overflowing trash cans – that was my childhood.
But then, thank the Lord, my folks moved us to the suburbs. Now, some comedians like to take potshots at suburbia. They paint a picture of Stepford Wives with perfect lawns and identical SUVs. Listen, here’s the thing: I’ll take a neatly mowed lawn over a puddle of questionable origin any day. And as for the SUVs? Well, at least they can fit all the groceries you need without playing Tetris with your shopping bags.
Now, the “anonymity” of city life? More like a recipe for social awkwardness. You want to avoid eye contact with people? Fine, be my guest. But in the suburbs, there’s a sense of community. You know your neighbors, you wave hello, you might even borrow a cup of sugar in a pinch. Sure, you might hear Mrs. Henderson’s yappy poodle serenade the neighborhood at dawn, but at least you know who to blame.
And let us not forget the “hustle and bustle.” Hustle? More like a frantic scramble for the last overpriced parking spot or latte. Bustle? Try dodging a rogue double stroller while wielding a latte. Give me the peace and quiet of my suburban street any day. I can hear myself think. I can grill and eat without dodging pigeons (although the neighborhood squirrels can be a bit of a nuisance).
Look, the city might be your cup of tea. Maybe you thrive on chaos? But for me, the suburbs are a slice of sanity in a world gone…well, let’s just say a world that could use a bigger dose of weed whackers and friendly barbecues. So, the next time you hear someone wax poetic about the “urban experience,” just remember, there’s a whole world of perfectly manicured lawns and friendly (if slightly nosy) neighbors waiting for those who prefer a life less stressful and a touch more…beige.
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Kevin Driscoll(Mostly) Vegetarian, Politically Progressive, Daily Runner, Spiritual, Helpful, Friendly, Kind, Warm Hearted and Forgiving. Resident of Braintree MA.
As always Kevin you write with humor and conviction.
I’m a city girl myself but when in the country I do like the proximity to nature, the fresher air, and the starry skies.
Here’s to the best of both worlds!
You make a good argument for a more peaceful and communal existence–certainly resonates with me. The good times I found living in the city were largely because I had a neighborhood that played the role of a small town.
Thought-provoking and perhaps unpredictable take on the subject, Kevin. My son, age 23, is finding living in Manhattan has elements of what I think of as “small town life.” (Picking up on Khati’s response above.) He waves when he passes the barbershop on his block (cuz it’s his haircutter and the guy waves back); same for the pizzeria nearby. On the sidewalk, he randomly (to me, unbelievably)runs into people that know him–such as the grandparents of one of his college friends! So I guess, to each his own, and of course it depends on what phase of life we’re in.
I’ve read articles about how friendliness (in general) improves one’s physical, emotional and spiritual health – meaning it is/ can be self serving.