One Man’s Urban Woes

Poor Ben Stein, imprisoned by modern urban hostilities. Lawyer, writer, and economist; rich, successful, and probably envied, yet he can’t find a safe and pleasant haven in this heedless and heartless world. The “new barbarians” are at his gate, and the “new Dark Ages” have begun.

But wait--are things really that terrible, all the time, for everyone? Take his examples. I can manage plastic wrap on medicine bottles without serious difficulty and with some feeling of security. It’s not such a bad idea. My American sports car has a simple and workable alarm system. It doesn’t go off by mistake, and I still have my radio and tape deck.

My house in a modest middle-class neighborhood isn’t sealed--no burglar alarm, open windows--yet nobody has broken in since we moved here 13 years ago. Maybe we don’t own enough for anyone to want it, or maybe it’s just too much trouble to cart things down our front steps. Sometimes someone nearby plays a loud radio, or a dog barks at midnight, and they’re building a house down the hillside, but mostly it’s peaceful. Yes, there’s smog, but the dust here is kinder and gentler then the sticky black East Coast variety.

Go away and hide, Ben. Wall yourself in. You’re right--it’s a dangerous world, and trouble is everywhere, even in L.A. Some people have no homes. Some people are poor and sick. Some people--”new barbarians,” perhaps--are desperate, or drugged, or crazed, or evil, or criminal, or some combination of those things. Our society isn’t doing much to solve any of their problems or the problems they make for the rest of us. I don’t deny it. Sometimes, though not often enough, I even try to do something about it. But right now I’m going to sit here on my patio and enjoy the summer afternoon.

MARY ELLEN GALE

Pasadena