Someone suggested I should live in the country where it’s safe. I’ve lived in places like that, they always seemed so…boring. I mean, where’s the joy d’vive? I go out in the morning at six to buy a paper and the crack users and assorted street color are slinking to their lairs; no longer threatening, just sad in a dingy way. And the first few timid office workers are venturing out, fluttering nervously to and from the safety of early morning delis; the half lit streets not quite yet transformed to their daytime life as happy yuppie territory. The never ending tapestry of urban life, ah, it’s like living in a movie! Of course I look like a Hell’s Angel on his day off, so none of the above ever bother me.