I'm writing this from my balcony, overlooking a large pond with a beautiful three-part fountain. I’ve become bougie. I grew up in a house with wheels. Look at me now.

I'm not a complete sell out. I'm sitting on a royal blue camping rocking chair. It doesn’t match the much more expensive outdoor furniture of my neighbors, but I can still feel the comfortable nostalgia of childhood trailer trash while sitting on my posh waterfront balcony.

As I sit here, I watch the neighborhood kids zoom by on all modes of transportation. Tricked out trucks, electric bikes, dirt bikes, scooters, “golf” carts and Segways fly by at speeds that would shame my childhood BMX suffering under the load of too many fried bologna and egg sandwiches.

“They’re going too fast. They’ll get hurt, just wait," I’ll grumb

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