Like I was saying (nearly three months ago)...

There is room for more. More opinion. More activity. Options. Abundance.

I mean... we have a plethora of newspapers. And hip hop. And disc golf. And bicycling. And coffeehouses. And, yes, strip malls.

And there's room for more.

Because it's all, at the roots, really the same thing – a quest for good times, blah, blah, blah...

And somewhere in my warm fuzzy feelings about the direction of this town, I convinced myself that a move to West Des Moines would be OK... that it wouldn't be a "giving up" on the City. Because my quest for the perfect home in Des Moines had labored on for more than a year. Lots of inventory; most of it in disrepair.

And I am not handy.

So now I'm a suburbanite. And it feels like I bought an SUV or something.

At first I had the expectation of blissful quiet privacy in a mid-century ranch atop a suburban hill.

Lasted about 3 days.

After two months in West Des Moines, I can confidently report that my suburban neighbors are much like former my eastside neighbors. I've seen a domestic dispute that brought the police to a nearby doorstep. There are drug deals in the park. And tonight everyone is putting nasty furniture on their front lawn.

Feels like east 29th again, except for one important difference...

When I moved into an eastside bungalow, all of my neighbors introduced themselves within the first few days of my arrival. Told me their life stories. Who to watch out for. Offered anything they could to make life comfortable.

New neighbors? Couldn't tell you anything about them. I wave; they don't wave back.

So, enough with the suburban rant...

I will return, briefly, to the east side for the State Fair in just two months.

Meanwhile, I still like my new home. I still like this town.

And there's lots more good stuff ahead.