I live out in the country, and that was my choice. I wanted to be away from people and their noises and their big machines. I didn’t want a booming bass to rattle my walls, or stomping feet to shake my ceiling. I didn’t want cars blocking my driveway. Almost as important, I didn’t want to have to worry about my own booming bass and stomping feet. I like being outside the tumult.

There are occasional disadvantages to living on an island, of course. What if the bridge is out? That’s how it seemed today. I felt as if I spent half the day waiting for the light to change so I could get across the freeway and back into the world. The world is where the bank and the grocery store are, and it’s also where I had to go to pick up D.J. from school. The world didn’t want to let me in.

I’ll take the trade-off, though. If I have to put up with the interminable wait for the longest traffic light in the world the change from red to green, that’s a small price to pay for what I have out here. When I lived in town, I could see a traffic light from my front window. I could see cars running the light. I could see cars running into each other. I’m well out of that mess.

Waiting for the light was definitely worth it to hear about D.J.’s new pet cheetah. He assured me that he was pretending to have a pet cheetah, and then described it in great detail. It’s friendly and knows how to keep its claws in, and it only eats meat pies. If it wants desert, it gets peanut butter. At one point D.J. interrupted himself in mid-sentence and said, “I’m sorry I’m talking so much.” But before I could tell him I didn’t mind, he was off again, telling me how he picked the softest cheetah and paid a dollar for it.