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I moved here when I was in 6th grade. It's becoming very, very hard for me to remember life before then. Germany, basically. So for all intents and purposes my existence as I know it started when I moved to Baltimore.
What makes this so ironic is that I began my life by migrating to a dying city.
I don't mean that in a bad way. Baltimore is a great city, of course, but there is no question that it's dying. Many cities have peaks, then depressions, peaks, depressions... has Baltimore ever had a peak? Not in this century, at least. We've had a steadily dropping population (300 thou now compared to 1960's 600 thou), consistent rises in crime, bad economy, etc. Things have been getting worse in Baltimore for so long now that it's become an essential part of the city's history. The culture is, in many ways, defined by a strange sense that it's pointless to hope for some future based on capitalist dreams. Baltimore isn't going to become a beautiful, booming, sky-rise metropolis anytime soon.
It is for precisely this reason that it has its charm.
I mean, when you think of what makes Baltimore appealing, it really is odd, isn't it? Anne Tyler described any entrance to Baltimore as initially jarring, as one will notice grease, grime and oil absolutely everywhere, covering the tiny rowhouses, the cracked streets, the run-down venues... unless, of course, you live here, in which case it's all very comforting.
You like the grime, you like the fact that everything, absol...
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