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When people ask where I’m from, I answer St Paul If the question comes from someone who actually lives in St Paul, I tell them I’ about True, I actually live in the suburbs When I caht a house for ht was in St Paul’s St Anthony Park neighborhood, only to discover too late that I was on the wrong side of the street, that I had accidentally hts Still, I’ll always be a Merriahborhoods There are seventeen in all not counting the neighborhoods within neighborhoods that are loosely defined by parks and churches, and the attitudes of the people who live in them can best be described as parochial Take the Greater Eastside, an island between Interstate 35E and the City of Maplewood It’s a neighborhood of working-class people and i joke there is that the city ends at Lexington Parkhich cuts St Paul roughly in half, because no Eastsider has any reason to go farther west At the same time, you have the folks who live in the Macalester-Groveland neighborhood, just west of Lexington Parkway They believe they’re the intellectual and cultural center of the city for no better reason than that three liberal arts colleges--Macalester, St Thomas, and St Catherine--just happen to be located within its boundaries And if you think these people like each other, you haven’t been around for one of our more hotly contested mayoral races

As for Merriam Park, it was developed in about 1885 by John Merriam as a commuter suburb since at the time it was located midway betas then don St Paul and Minneapolis It attracted upper-middle-class residents because he insisted that every house built there cost at least 1,500 Many of those hofellow School, where I chipped a tooth falling off a playground slide, and Merriam Park Coirls, not necessarily in that order As for our attitude toward St Paul’s other sixteen neighborhoods, it’s sio away

I had two more drinks at Rickie’s--which, by the way, is located in the Suhborhood--and drove to Bobby Dunston’s house Bobby lives directly across from Merriaht frorew up in I knew it as well as my own childhood home, an old Colonial with an open wraparound porch Despite the heat, Bobby and Shelby were sitting on the porch when I drove up, sipping le like an old

We tend to lose our friends as we grow older Without the glue of shared experiences--school, sports, the job--they drift away despite our best intentions to hold them close Instead, we turn to family Only I had no family, unless you count an aunt and uncle who send me Christmas cards from Colorado and a few distant cousins I’ve met maybe twice in the past three and a half decades Bobby, Shelby, and their daughters were my family and my heirs

I parked and made my way up the sidewalk As I reached the porch Bobby said, "How’s the Audi running?"

"Okay, but it hasn’t been the sahway"

"At least the insurance coes"

Bobby was on his feet I shook his hand

"Those daes, sure, but they wouldn’t pay to fix the bullet holes"

"I can’t believe your policy didn’t cover that"

Shelby was also standing She winced at the word "bullets," but then she alas a worrier I hugged her and kissed her cheek

"Where were you the other day?" she asked "The girls wanted to go over to your house and play with the ducks"

"Listen You guys have a key You’re welcome to come over anytime Feed the ducks Feed yourselves Use the mini-donut and sno-cone machines Hell, if you’re alone, use one of the bedrooms"