2002-02-10 - 5:54 p.m.

There's a neighboorhood in Manhattan that, like many, has formed a neighborhood coalition to protect their quality of life. We had the Crackwhores, West 4th had the Dealers, and Christopher & Hudson now have Transvestite Hookers and the Gangs That Prey On Them. But this neighborhood has another beef..... stickball. There are kids there playing stickball, in this unseasonably warm weather. And I do mean kids. Not teenagers yelling and blasting boomboxes and menacing old ladies, but elementary school kids. Playing a sport. Outdoors. Harmoniously. In NYC. Of course, they aren't protesting the neighborhood harmony, or the team sport. Apparently they are outraged at the possibility of harm befalling their beloved luxury cars. This makes me furious, and also makes me feel a little sick.

If there were kids playing stickball on my block, I'd be down there bringing them fucking lemonade and cookies. In a world of computer access and Playstations and fast food, in a city of kids running in gangs, selling drugs and smoking crack, stickball should be applauded. The statistics are overwhelming.

Outdoor team sports = better health. Higher self esteem. Teamwork. Fresh air. (well, ok not-so-fresh air, at least around these parts) Less drug use. Clear-headedness. What the fuck? This city is teeming with lost children - drugged out, selling their bodies, selling drugs for big money, for prestige in their 'hoods. Mugging the elderly, breaking into apartments, beating other human beings to release their pent up rage. And people are worried about their precious fucking cars. What about their kids? Don't they want them outside playing with kids in their neighborho...oh, I forgot. Their kids are at the museum with their NANNIES.

If you can't afford to garage your Lexus, you can't afford to buy one in the first place. And if you don' t like it, move to Greenwic-h Connecticut - that's what it's there for.

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