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December 20, 2007
The rush of cars on the freeway is always in the background, but itís a gentle swishing noise, the urban version of wind in the trees. A few times a day, a car drives down my street pulsing with bass so loud it shakes the glass in the windows and I wonder how the driver can stand it, up close and personal. It must be deafening in there. A few times a week, someone pushes a shopping cart filled with garbage bags and other miscellanies past my house. Eventually, I will be asked for a cigarette, which I never have.