There Goes The Neighborhood.

As you all know, my neighborhood hasn't been immune from its problems. As long as I've lived here things have happened, but it has never actually been unsafe. Somehow it's always come through.

I have more than one problem neighbor: useless folks with dumb dogs, people passing through who follow you on foot, stupid bumping music that shakes the leaded glass, a high-speed chase or two, animals on bikes, don't get me started on trick or treat.

But one is a particular problem: it's the mayor.

Barrett hasn't done us any favors by living here. I've emailed him about issues happening here because this is supposed to be his neighborhood, too. We used to have a lot of patrols around here, but I think the only proactive patrolling happens on certain stretches of Washington Boulevard.

Now it all makes sense: it's because there isn't a crisis here. Nooo. We renamed the neighborhood Washington Heights, remember? Forget the po-lice, we have people with clipboards. And weird lefty glasses. Enforcing things that aren't painted or if your truck is parked in your approach.

That'll learn 'em. Those people who obey the law.

Barrett's no different than the yuppies who move into the hood and fix up a mansion. They build a fence around it and stay in their little house. The peasants might give them hives. But look how open minded they are to live where they do. Look how enlightened they are. I'm blinded by its glare.

I'd prefer if Sensenbrenner moved in. In fact, I invite Sensenbrenner to move in to this neighborhood that we now have to refer to by it's Slave Name.

At least I'd have one less neighbor proclaiming "Ceci n'est pas un pipe".