..... I have sat on the steps, swept the sidewalks, loved the tree and have held plenty of Block-Parties in front of the building that is my "Clifton Park" home of almost 4 decades.

.....These are the same steps that have become my barstool, where I chase skirts - until the wearer of the skirt gets in the "Tester" line; or, where I sit and watch my old school friends, neighborhood(?) women, even children, conduct a seemingly endless number of drug related transactions.

.....There's even the sporadic CatFight and an occasional homicide - which incidentally, is the name given to one of the local drug dealer's dope. So as the coke-dealers clamor about hollering red tops, pink tops and blue tops, you'll also hear someone shouting "HAW-MUH-SIDE OuUUUUuuut !

PSSsst ! Wanna know a secret? That ground-level window is not only my bedroom window, it's one heckuva listening post ! Everybody and their grandma loves to use my tree as a garbage can, and since the (old) neighbors' awnings and my tree are the only shade from the sun - every Tom, Dick, Harry and passer-by will end up on my steps. Can you imagine the conversations I've overheard?

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