The Suburbs.
It is late March, Suburbs. Why do you still have a Christmas wreath on your front door? I can see you from here.
Oh, okay, Suburbs…I hear ya…those are NOT Christmas decorations. It really is a “Winter Welcome Circle of Peace.” That faded red bow just breathes a ribbon of warmth to all! Indeed.
And those fake candles in each window flicker for an aura of universal wisdom, check.
Suburbs, you haven’t opened your front door in five months. It was Mischief Night (Editor’s Note: Some Jersey vandalism tradition), when you were surveilling your grounds for local high schoolers, who you know are the real problem — the real domestic terrorists of this whole U.S. real-estate regime-change.
Spring is actually here. Before it gets too hot and suburbanites retract themselves into their air conditioned cave, there might even be a few open windows, and quick patrols around the property perimeter.
But don’t sweat it, Suburbs. Soon the trees will fill in. (At least those you haven’t already chopped down, lest they interfere with your satellite dish reception). The lush greenery that was once a symbol of you, Suburbs, will once again blur the vision of your neighbors and passers-by.
Whatever you have on your door in June, you have your reasons.
Sincerely,
Jersey Jim