During my youth, we moved a few times in and around the San Gabriel Valley area. First stop after my parents left the home they had built with my grandfather in El Monte, we landed in Glendora in a brand-new tract home. Nestled against the rattlesnake infested foothills, this home was anything but inviting. I was one of the youngest kids in the neighborhood. The big kids, and their big brothers constantly harassed me. I got a few licks back from time to time… including the time two kids on ten speeds came careening down the driveway at the end of the cul-de-sac with intent to knock me off the shiny new bike I got for Christmas. They laughed hysterically as I picked myself off the pavement as they zoomed by. I ran back to the house and dropped off my bike and grabbed the old blue scooter, the kind that looks like a skateboard with handlebars as they peddled back up the hill. As I expected, once I got back into the street with my scooter, down the hill they came again for another strafing run. This time, as the zooming bullies sped by, I stepped off my scooter timing my move so the scooter’s handlebar caught the front wheel of bully #1’s bike and launched him into the air like he was being shot from a cannon. By the time he hit the ground, I was back home with the front door locked. This was not the last time we exchanged pleasantries.