After 2.5 years in Wilmington NC...

Yesterday in a department store at the dying Independence Mall, two younger women walked in front of me. One had short, sharp black hair and was talking in a staccato "Yankee" accent, the other was African American and fully engaged with her friend or partner. I wanted to run up to them and say "Are you from NYC? Can we just talk for a minute?"

My first mistake in moving here from the 17th floor apartment on Third Avenue was to buy a town home in the suburbs. I was seduced by the baseboards and crown molding and a fireplace that, it turned out, had never been ignited. If only I had listened to myself when I said to the realtor, "Where IS everybody???" when he turned into the neighborhood. This place is DEAD.

Downtown might be a more social place, although particularly in the hysterical district, I'd be dealing with locals who all go to church together and whose ancestors are buried in the same cemetery. And there are poor people with guns downtown, and shootings are common. "You should expect to be burglarized," a downtownie told me. Sigh.

As I write this, the legislators in the state capitol, Raleigh, have given those wild-eyed liberals in Charlotte (Mecklenburg County) a good thrashing for daring to let trans-gender people use the bathroom of their chosen gender. It makes me feel ashamed to live here.

But where to go? It seems that rich people have finally figured out the charm of walking neighborhoods, so everybody wants to be downtown. This means that housing downtown is expensive. And I'm talking most cities...

Santa Fe looks so enticing. But real estate is much more expensive there, and I'll still be stuck in the remote suburbs.