​“Marc, a little perspective from a resident who has lived here since 1998. Though there obviously was no NextDoor 21 years ago, the very same complaints and 'paranoia' that you think is in abundance now are exactly what went on in face-to-face discussions among residents and passed along to councilmembers, mayors, city officials, and police that led to the significant quality-of-life changes that the neighborhood enjoys today. Two decades ago, attacks and incidences within Hamilton Park, particularly at night, happened often. Two decades ago, residents never walked or ran on the back side of Enos Jones Park (unless perhaps if you had a large dog) for fear of being assaulted. Two decades ago, it was well-known that residents coming back from the Newport Mall carrying holiday packages/bags were targeted for robberies. Much less than two decades ago, the owner of a bodega across from McNair was shot and murdered around mid-morning on a school day. Two decades ago, trash littering our sidewalks and parks was "acceptable." Two decades ago, cars running the stops signs and speeding around Hamilton Park were an every day occurance. Two decades ago, police and city officials "hid" much of the crime that was going on around Hamilton Park so as to not scare residents. Sure, the suspicions on NextDoor can sometimes be taken too far. And, yes, we do live in a city, with all of its inherent risks. However, I find much of the information here to be a helpful reminder that each of us must always be vigilant and aware of what's happening on the streets of our neighborhood. I will never concede that having delivered packages stolen is the "cost" of living in a city, or that a certain level of neighborhood crime -- certainly not home and auto break-ins -- is okay. And I will never blame the victims. Nor should any of us. Instead, we should continue to inform our neighbors of what is going on -- good and bad -- in our community. Whether he or she reads or heeds that information is up to them.”

Manor of My Mind

Kiss me awake.
Brush along my lips.
Breathe time into me.

Touch me awake.
Melt from my dreams.
Step into my world.

Don't let me slip away.
Don't let me fall away.
Don't let me be alone...
Again.

Whisper my name.
Unveil the sunlight.
The dawn of my day.

Hold me close.
Linger by my side.
Sink slowly into me.

Won't let you slip away.
Won't let you fall away.
Won't let you be alone...
Again.

Living in the manor of my mind, in the manner that I've tried.
I've yearned for your touch, learned I've missed so very much.

Your love brings warmth.
Can't wait for the morning.
More real than my dreams.

Don't let us slip away.
Don't let us fall away.
Don't let us be alone...
Ever again.

The man leaned into her, playfully at first, his much larger frame almost instinctively blocking her body from beyond the small, intimate space, he had created. He wondered if she noticed? She seemed comfortable, looking up at him with a relaxed smile. She had a beautiful smile. One that was easy and welcoming. "Mind if take a sip?" she asked, her hand reaching for his beer. He nodded. She took a large gulp. "God, I love beer," she said. "Not sure why I'm having the merlot. It always makes me sleepy." She set the bottle down. "Have it," he said. "That's all need," she said. "Mix beer and wine. Like in college." "If it was college, you'd throw down a shot of snaaps, too," he said. "Nah, I was a whiskey girl." "Bryn Mawr had whiskey girls?" "Bryn Mawr had a whiskey girl."