Welcome to the 'hood.
Is it the sound of rap music blaring from a 1987 boombox coming from the upstairs window of the low income housing condominium abutting your backyard that lets you know you live in the ghetto?
Or is it the summer barbecue held on a Tuesday evening at which 30+ people are in attendance and partaking in basketball, loud conversation, dancing and smoking all out on their front lawn because, you know, who wants to party inside and not disturb the neighbors on a weeknight? until the wee hours of the morning that lets you know the neighborhood ain't what it used to be?
Perhaps it's the sound of preschool-aged children having the time of their lives running around the neighborhood unsupervised in their diapers after dark.
Or the sound of social workers slamming their car doors as they make their regular visits.
Or the preteen youth who come to your door and ask if they can have $30 so they can buy a birthday present for their cousin.
Maybe it's the sound of somebody's top-of-the-line car stereo system as they cruise back to the aforementioned low-income housing project they live in.
Or maybe it's the sound of a mother screaming at the top of her lungs from her doorstep instructing the children that she spent the last 3 hours not watching to get back in the house.
Whatever it is, it's time to move.