The only thing worse than daytrippers is being one.
Every week, we'd drive into the city, parking our cars in another section each time and walking till our legs gave out. It was revitalizing just to see the differences! The differences in buildings, people, stores, sidewalks, streets. We'd spend hours in a strange food store, choosing things to take back home. Often, we'd strike up a conversation with the people we'd meet. Negroes. Puerto Ricans. Italians. I felt I was part of the world again!One Woman's Confession: I HATE SUBURBIA (Lady's Circle, Sept 1965) [modernmechanix.com via city of sound]
