The term “good ol’ days” is a sore point for me these days. I picked up a book to understand the history of the city I currently call home. What I expected to find was a way to connect with the culture of the city, and why people are the way they are, and what colors the city wears. The book seemed promising in the start. What I got, instead, was a list of complaints against those who come here to make a life and living. The bitterness seems very misplaced, but as an outsider, it is but natural to feel singled out. After all, one can have but one place to call home, and I already have that.