Sunday Night Rumble

So there was a brawl in the bar across the street from where I live last night. I don’t know any details, only that when I came back from a quick trip to the gro­cery store with my new­ly-bap­tized infant daugh­ter in my arms, there were three police cars parked in the street, lights flash­ing, and what appeared like­ly to be the entire patron­age of the small main-street estab­lish­ment milling about on the side­walk, being inter­viewed in small groups by uni­formed offi­cers of the law.

I can’t say this makes me feel any less safe than I did before this inci­dent, what­ev­er it was. Rumor has it that some out-of-town folks mis­took their place, and were as a con­se­quence ‘schooled’ by sev­er­al of the locals. Blood­shed in a water­ing hole, although still out­side the realm of my lim­it­ed expe­ri­ence, is a thing, I have no doubt, and liv­ing as we do with some­thing like sev­en or eight such estab­lish­ments with­in a three-minute stroll, I expect such things will hap­pen from time to time, most­ly unwit­nessed by me or mine.

Still makes me think that liv­ing right down­town is not the ide­al place for us, long term.

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