Scratch Ankle, I almost forgot to miss ya.

I made the mistake of driving through my old neighborhood, today. I was meeting with a client on that side of town, and let myself wander. The road I grew up on has made an appearance in the local paper a couple times the past month. One suspicious death and one former neighbor was arrested for selling alcohol, weed and pills to underage kids.

The place is trashier than when I left it, over ten years ago. It is like time forgot it. A couple of buildings have been torn down, and one home has been painted bright yellow. My old home is a cluttered mess, everything's overgrown. I am just thankful I made it out of there. It is amazing what a difference a 20 minute drive makes in quality of life. 20 minutes equals a 10 year back in time warp.

The neighborhood used to be called Scratch Ankle, no joke. One kid on my bus wrote that as his address. We had a creek in the back yard, and that was the saving grace. I spent most of my time in it.

Anyway, that drive this afternoon left me in a strange place. A kind of a funk. Needless to say, I won't be heading back anytime soon.