It was 3 p.m. Thursday and I realized I still needed to get my car fixed. The hood wouldn't go down all the way. So I took it to a body shop around the corner, walked home, took the No. 8 bus to and from a function and walked to the Towson library for a meeting the next morning. After lunch and another assignment just off Bosley Avenue, I went back to the body shop to retrieve my car.
I'm not going to lie. It was scorching outside (101 degrees, to be exact), a situation made worse by the mobile office in a bag slung over my shoulder. But one of the great things about living in downtown Towson is that all of these things are so accessible. I can go a day without my beloved 1999 Honda Civic. And it's not always so scorching outside.
This weekend, I'm trading in some of those privileges. I'm moving from an apartment near Towson Town Center to a new place in Rodgers Forge. Yeah, it's not that far.
But in the year since I moved inside the Beltway from Lutherville, I've sort of taken for granted the ability to go to , , , or to certain area watering holes without having to get my Civic out of its large, forbidding garage.
Indeed, this scenario has been one of the goals of urban design plans and other studies conducted in the last several years, Towson, save for the hills and the heat, is pretty walkable, it turns out.
But at the same time, I feel like the apartments, at least where I lived until now, are sort of in a bubble. I greet other people in the halls of my building every now and then. I call security on the people above me who sound like they're building a bowling alley in their kitchen every night.
But I don't feel like I'm part of a community, and that's something I sort of look forward to at my new residence. I'll still be in an apartment, I'll still be renting, but I'll feel a little closer to the real people who make Towson special. See you there.