city under a glass jar

Larry grew up in a town were everybody was well above average.

It was a collection of parents who were all white and all professional and all sincere and innocent of the dangerous and dark world that lurked just outside of their city limits

The movers and shakers of the city maintained a particularly anal band of cops to protect all main entries into the town so that any unscrupulous character could be followed and pulled over.

This town suffered a  murder every twenty years or so, while in the neighoring city 45 miles away, there was a murder every week.

When Larry was young, the local library ran on an honor system where people could walk out with books, and return them at their leasure but by the time Larry had come of age, although still living at home at the age of 27, the checkout lady would pretend that the book his dad had Larry return, had a fine on it, saying ' I wish I could show you the screen...'

Although the majority of children made it successfully to adulthood, participating in cheerleading and sports, finding a mate and marrying in church and starting a home together, there was a fair number of lost youth

The children suffered through the mysteries of life with many falling through the cracks, unable to get a job and remaining at home living past thirty still in their room, in their parents house.

Larry worked for a short while picking blueberries, riding his bike 25 miles one way, and being so ravenously hungry that he ate so many blueberries and had so little to turn in, that it was a little embarassing.  Larry then slowly began to calculate that if he were to have purchased a sack of potatoes, with the money he could make by turning over the blueberries, that he could come out with more food value.

The social order was  oppressive so men of the town would engage in random homosexual encounters at the nearby highway rest stop

the local police would catch them in 'sting' operations, and those caught would often commit suicide, over what today, in other parts of the country might be considered as trivial as a traffic ticket, or as a badge of honor.

Once an oriental massage parlor tried to set up shop, and the undercover cops visited the parlor repeatedly, to collect 'evidence', eight times and more, per cop.

Larry marvelled at the luck of these policemen.