

I grew up in a time when it was perfectly safe to walk the blocks of my neighborhood as a little kid, unsupervised, to visit a friend, the ice cream man, or run through Bobby’s sprinklers in my underwear. Looking back, I see those moments filled with joyous color, a sense of freedom and imaginings - the world was designed perfectly and my dad listened to Elton John. These days, I frequently think back to these hours spent, and imagine what kinds of memories and reflections my 3-year-old boy will have of his neighborhood and his world as an adult. For my part, I’ll give him sunshine and lollipops (and Elton . . . . . and Beck).