The Suburbs

Rancho Santa Margarita

Playing softball in the suburbs.

With my iPod adapter broken and a no antenna, my only option is to listen to CD's. I don't have a lot of CD's anymore, but my roommate Gretchen lent  me Arcade Fire's "The Suburbs." I hadn't fully listened to the album all the way through; I say it's Grammy worthy.

You always seemed so sure
That one day we'd be fighting
A suburban war
your part of town against mine
I saw you standing on the opposite shore

My opinion this week is not about the album, but about growing up in suburbia.

The suburbia I grew up in is the suburbs on steroids. I'm from a planned community built in the late 1980's.  Rancho Santa Margarita, more commonly known as RSM or Rancho. In college my friends couldn't believe the name of my city was comprised of initials. I always just told people I was from Mission Viejo, since I had moved across the border into the neighboring city my senior year of high school.

That water you see in the picture, is a man-made lake. It's stocked with fish; I fished there with my dad in first and second grade. I got tired of catching stupid little fish that I couldn't eat. My friend put her gold fish in there once. There is a mile long sidewalk that wraps around the lake, where people stroll, run, rollerblade, skateboard and ride their bikes. It's the main hub of the 12-square-mile city.

My neighborhood was built next to the lake, so it was where my friends and I spent most of our time. The water is next to toxic, but I waded in it a few times to retrieve soccer balls and what not that fell in. I made it out alive.

Backyards are almost non-existent in the hyper-developed area, but the lake made a perfectly good substitute. RSM is also ranked as one of the safest cities in the nation, so our parents felt comfortable letting us go out to play.

As an only-child growing up in the Suburbs was the best option. When I first moved to RSM, on my street alone there were close to 15 girls within a 4-year age difference, and significantly fewer boys, which made for some good childhood rivalry. There was always someone playing outside. The streets during the day were quiet and we had all the room in the world to run around, ride our bikes, or play kick-ball and roller hockey. We also had big garage doors and wide-cement driveways where we could play hand-ball (aka wall-ball to some people).

I have stories for days of my suburban childhood. Maybe they should be the start of another blog: "The chronicles of the Floramar children." Floramar was the name of our preplanned housing complex.

A college friend of mine who grew up in a very rural area, always made fun of suburban life, saying he would kill himself if he ever lived in one. However, he did admit some jealousy that I had so many other kids to play with.

Now living in downtown San Diego, where there is so much to do and see, not to mention all in walking/biking distance, I don't miss my old neighborhood very much. As a single 23-year-old it's the best place for me to live, but sometimes when I see the kids in the area, my heart gets a little sad they don't have wide streets safe streets, teeming with children to play with.