On toys, gender-roles, and marketing away our creativity

I don't go out and about stocking up on toys for my kiddo and many of his gifts are typically wrapped up sippy-cups, bottle-brushes, and other practical necessities because for him gift-opening is about the act of opening more than it is about what's inside [friends and family do give real gifts of the playing sort lest you think my son sits in a barren wasteland of a playroom]. Still, he is getting older, and I've noticed the contents are beginning to interest him more than days gone by, so this Eid, K and I headed to Target to see what toys, in addition to the Elmo we purchased him, were available.

Outside of one trip to Toys-R-Us to outfit his playroom with an easel and some musical instruments, I haven't really gone down toy sections with the intent of purchasing. To say the inventory disheartened me is an understatement. I went thinking I'd find a kid's doctor's kit, or a diorama box, or other things that would serve as jump starts to creative play. Yeah, no. All toys were divided into boy sections and girl sections. The girl section pink and frilly and the boy section blue and gray and so very boyish. Each section was further subdivided into not puzzle section, make believe section, but instead, corporate logos. Star Wars, Toy Story, Spiderman. Now don't get me wrong, my son just got an Elmo, but its one thing to have some corporate toys, its another thing when every single kids item at a store is brand-name-only and specific to scenes in a show or movie.

Attempting to find something for my son that would not be an advertisement for a cartoon company, I went to the toy kitchens: all pink and purple with images of grinning girls in frocks. Don't get me wrong. My son has a pink stroller and a lavender tea seat and I'm fine with it but the whole color-coded and thus gender-appropriate marketing messages is just getting pretty damn old. What is the message? Boys can't cook? They can't push their children in strollers or pour tea for pretend friends? Why on earth are these simple activities of human life taboo in the toy aisle? Didn't we move beyond these limits as a culture?

I just read an article on NPR about the rise of the toy industry in the past decades and the steady push for corporate toys telling us to play with those things they've created shows and movies around and showing us how to play, with sounds and voices for things which children once used to imagine the voices and sounds for. These toys are rapidly depleting our children's creativity and intelligence by taking away their self regulation and executive function skills. I read a book a few months back that discussed that television is not just bad for young ones because of the higher odds of ADHD and other attention issues, but because children then typically act out and make-believe what they see on television which limits the scope and breadth of their imagination since they're limiting their play acting to what their favorite characters did on their favorite shows, and not instead tapping into the unbridled creativity stored in reserves in the depths of their being.

In the end, after an hour of searching, we purchased some playdoh. And he loved it. I just wish I had more options. And while yes, there are legos, and blocks, and other open-ended toys, on the whole I wish that toy companies wouldn't gender-box their toys and limit them to TV shows, and instead worked on making toys that did what they're meant to do: help a child entertain themselves while expanding their minds, creativity, and intelligence in the unbridled way its supposed to grow.

What are your thoughts about this? Seen this yourself in your own local toy stores or is this perhaps a southern thing? Or a Target thing? Would love your perspectives.

Cruising: Advice? Please?

I never thought I'd ever go on a cruise. Ever. The idea of being stuck onto a boat for days at a time with animal-towel-making classes for entertainment, felt stifling. But more importantly, I felt that instead of a cruise to the Bahamas where one day is spent on the island, why not just go to the Bahamas on a quick flight and spend the otherwise-boat-hours at the actual location taking in the local culture, vibe, foodings, and let it seep into you more deeply?

Enter, kid. And the fact that despite previous vows to never let said kids stop us from traveling, we have not stepped foot on foreign soil in three years. Our friends and family members who have been on cruises suggested we look at it differently: It's not about the destination, its about the journey. The downtime, the experience of being on the boat. Considering this, combined with no car seat unbuckling and rebuckling, nap schedules, and eating conundrums, all while checking out, albeit briefly, a new foreign destination-- suddenly a cruise didn't seem like the worst idea.

So we're going. And I'm skeptical but excited.

Ever been on a cruise? Yay? Nay? Any advice, recommendations? What sort of activities did y'all do? Any advice on cruising with kids? Did your toddler go on the kids-camps they have? Did you like the nannies? How safe did you feel with your personal belongings? How tight was the room? Any sea-sickness fighting ideas? What did you do on your day excursion to the Bahamas or island of destination? Any advice or input of any sort much appreciated!

Three [or six] beautiful things Thursday: Those colors that make your life

I haven't done a meme in a long time but when Tracy tagged for this one, it made me smile because I got to go back in time and look at pictures from a completely new color-perspective as I picked photos that mattered to me with the colors Yellow, Blue, Green, White, and Red in mind. If you're looking for a fun piece for your blog that will make you genuinely smile, I strongly suggest this meme. [hint hint: Susan, Yen, Reem, Kate, Sunny, Mina, Fruitful, Leigh Ann, Azmina, Muslim Wife, insert *you* reading right this minute!] There's a 'Capture The Color Contest' that is the inspiration for the meme, but I'm just doing it for fun. If you do this, please share, no matter what, I promise the sifting of memories will be worth your while.

Yellow

I've met a lot of new moms since becoming a mother, including Reem. Our kids mesh well and she's a sweet and creative soul who I love spending time with. Plus, she takes great photographs, like this one taken in a series of shots from a play date we had a few months back at Toy Park. My son is pushing her daughter on a yellow tractor and I love the angle of the pink-ribboned shoes juxtaposed next to my son's black-crocs. Hope they [and we] will be friends for a long time to come.

White

Like I said, I'm super lucky to have super-awesome friends who happen to possess exceptional photography skills. Like this photograph taken on my son's second birthday by my friends Cylinda and Yen [and why yes, that is a hand posing as a branch back there!] I don't know when the moment happens when you suddenly become fully self-aware, when your photographed smiles are taken with a hint of self-regard, but that is why I love this shot, because it captures toddlerhood exactly. Pure joy felt = pure joy expressed, no more and no less.

Green

I love how effectively Cylinda captured the colors in this shot. I also love the juxtaposition of the present with the future in this picture taken on a college campus of PhD's and mid-term examinations where my little guy crouches down in the courtyard with his little blue ball and takes a break to count the blades of grass.

Blue

Looking through my old photos I traipsed onto my photos from Hawaii, the days before kiddo when we traveled yearly to somewhere fun and exciting, and when we vowed that having children would not stop us from continuing our yearly excursions to far off distant lands. It was also a time when as much as I wanted those rafting excursions and hikes along the Napali coast, I wanted a child in my arms that much more. He's here now, and while the travel to international/exotic locales are now relegated to the realm of maybe some day, as beautiful as the Napali coast was, I look at the ice blue water and remember what I had, and am thankful for what is now mine.

Red

My cousin Aamina is more my sister than my cousin, and when she came the first few weeks after my son was born to help me, she showered me with unconditional love and took lovely photos, like this one. And when I look at it I think, really, how was he ever quite this small? 

But this picture makes me think of more than this. Because I also see in this picture the person behind the scenes, me: sitting on the couch with unwashed hair, tears quick to the surface thanks to a flood of hormones, baffled by breastfeeding and wondering how on earth she was going to take care of this helpless little creature that couldn't even lift his head off his little red pillow.

Pink

Pink is not one of the official colors of the meme, but after seeing the picture taken weeks after his birth, I was struck by this one taken just recently of my now quite big, walking, talking, posing little kiddo on our way to an iftaar dinner. It's not just him and how much bigger he is [which he is] and how different he now looks [which he does] but I look at myself, and think how not so long ago I thought I'd never get the hang of this parenting thing. How I'd never wash my hair again, or get more than two hours of sleep at a time. And just like that, things changed, he's growing up, and while I still don't know much of what I'm doing, just kind of making it up as I go along, I'm no longer scared. I'm excited about what the future will bring.

Sifting through memories, good friends, and seeing how far I've come. A beautiful Thursday indeed. Hope you had a great Thursday too, and seriously, Thursday or not, you'll enjoy this cute little meme!

On elmo, manhunts, and parental angst

The libraries are taking a siesta from activities this month, so my son and I headed for Barnes and Nobles for their Wednesday morning story time.

It was boring. As in, so boring I began wondering if this was an intentional act on their part to lure parents to their coffee bar. The storyteller kept skipping pages, interrupting to share personal unrelated stories, and otherwise leaving me close to syncope.

After twenty minutes we wandered over to the train table area, where other mothers nannies were huddled around watching their children play, and there is when I saw it: Elmo. Not any Elmo, mind you but an Elmo that does not vibrate, sing, shake, rock out to drums or in any other way do anything but what the child imagines it does. The perfect Eid present, I thought.

Except, I quickly realized, this isn't the gift shopping of days before when I could just purchase him things without him realizing anything was going on. As soon as he spotted Elmo, he didn't let go. Elmo! He squealed. See kitab! He propped up Elmo by the eyes to take in the books, the window, the carpet. Purchasing Elmo also required a bit of negotiations to allow him to release his grip and get the red furry creature over the counter for scanning. No plastic bags were involved in this purchase.

When he napped, I figured I'd hide it in the closet and pull it out again when it was Eid, wrapped and ready to presented for the gift it was meant to be.

Except, those days of guppy fish memory are long behind me. After a glorious three hour nap, he awoke fresh and chipper. And looking for Elmo.

Elmo? He asked raising his arms in question. Where Elmo? He went to every spot he took Elmo to. Under the pillows, the bed, in the toy box.

Eventually he'll forget, I figured. Except, he didn't. As the second hour of the one-man-man-hunt for Elmo continued I began feeling super guilty. It's not his fault that he remembers gifts. Now he's concerned for Elmo's welfare and he loved it so. And while I knew they would be reunited in a few short days I began wondering if this was meant to be a gift then I shouldn't be raining on my kid's day with it. A gift after all should give way to joy, not manhunts. And as much as Eid gifts are essential, are they worth hiding at the expense of my son's happiness? So, I called K.

Me: I don't know what to do. He's very concerned about Elmo's disappearance. I think I'll just go get it for him and get him some other gift for Eid.
K: Just tell him that Elmo went bye-bye.
Me: That won't work. He's been searching going on two hours crooning Elmo. He's not going to give up like that? Remember Aloo?
K: Try it, tell him Elmo had to go and he'll be back later.

So I got down eye-level with my son, and when he asked me again, Mama? Elmo? Where Elmo? I responded, Elmo went bye-bye. He'll be back later. He considered it for a moment, and said, Okay! And I watched him run off to play with his toy cars. He did not mention Elmo again.

So apparently, sometimes its complicated. And sometimes its not. But either way, these jaw dropping moments of drama and intrigue? Reminds me why I love to be home with him. And, this whole parenting thing? Its truly on the job training. Glad my son is a patient trainer.

Ever gone down the rabbit-hole of existential parental angst for no apparent reason?

On mastering the art of prayer

Waleed: Mama, cookie!
Me: No cookies today.
Waleed: Mama, cookie please?
Me: No baby, no cookies.
Waleed: Mama, give me cookie please!!
Me: Look at the box, its empty. There are no cookies. I can't give you a cookie.

After a moment of silent consideration he turned and walked away. After a moment of persisting silence [which, when toddlers are involved, usually means trouble] I walked into the dining room and saw this:

Allah, cookies, please.

And when that didn't work, this:

Allah! Cookies?! Please?!

As much as I'm comfortably curled up on the couch, I must admit I'm beginning to foresee a trip to Publix in our very near future. So apparently, prayers work.

Book Update #9-22

Oh wow, I haven't updated my 112 in 2012 in a long time even though I've been steadily accomplishing stuff. It's also been a while since I updated my book reviews. I update on good reads but maintaining the separate book review blog just isn't happening. Not something I'm completely writing off, but at the moment, too much to maintain. So for now, I'll post my book updates here. The first eight books of the year are here, but at least this year, I'm going to update the rest here.

A Visit From The Good Squad [Book #9]. You shouldn't judge a book by its cover and similarly you shouldn't judge a book by its super-cool title. Which is what I did. I purchased this book sight unseen because GOON squad! Spoiler alert: No goon squad. Not in the real sense. In the abstract, college lit sense? Sure. But I was anticipating actual goons doing goon-like things and was thus disappointed by this series of short-stories posing as a novel. While well written, good writing cannot cure a weak plot, or in this case, a non-existent one.

The Day I Ate Whatever I Wanted [Book #10]. Because I like sharing books with others, I don't buy books on Kindle anymore, but I do read a bit on the device thanks to free classics and e-lending. This was my first kindle-library experience, a beautiful collection of short-stories about women in different phases of their life dealing with weight issues, love, loss, and aging. I'm not a huge fan of short stories, they always leave me wanting more, but somehow Berg wrote these stories in a way that left me satisfied. 

The Hacienda [Book #11]. I started off loving this memoir about a girl who at 17 travels to her husband's Hacienda in the middle of the Andes where instead of the promised land she finds neglect  and wretched circumstances. I love her imagery but she never explains why she stays in such wretched circumstances and when she finally does make her daring escape, she doesn't share. We're left with her about to flee, but we never see her leave. The story is written in a detatched manner that left me a bit cold. Still, I did love the portrait it painted and the new perspective on a place I've never been.

The Good Daughter [Book #12]. In a similar vein to The Hacienda, I loved the details about Iran and the stories of three generations of daughters. My only gripe is the author writes in such a detatched journalistic manner its hard to get close to the characters. She also doesn't provide a solid ending with closure, perhaps if she had let you into her heart just a touch more this story could have been infinitely better.

The Big Short [Book #13]. This book explains the current housing-financial crash in an easy to explain manner-- except I still didn't really get it. I am not sure if this is the fault of the book or if its the brain cells that haven't regenerated due to lack of sleep, but whether or not its an interesting book I will give it that its an important one about the situation we are currently in.

A Game Of Thrones Book [Book #14]. I read this book in the same vein I read the first Twilight. I wanted to see what the fuss was about. Thankfully this book is no Twilight. While not my typical read, and far too dense, now that I've started watching the HBO show version of it, I'll probably finish the series since watching is more enjoyable having read the book.

The Solitude Of Prime Numbers [Book #15]. I loved this quirky, funny, and heartbreaking Italian novel about two misfits and their quest to live life. They are not the most likeable people, but they are so interesting you keep turning the pages to find out more about their lives.

The Four Agreements [Book #16]. This book deserves a post of its own. The first time I read it, I thought it was fluff. The second time, not bad. The third time, it gripped me by the soul. This is a must read for anyone who is seeking to better their lives. It's a simple book, but its values are worth remembering.

Self Editing For Fiction Writers [Book #17]. My agent recommended this book and with all the fluffy 'how to write' books out there on the market, it was a refreshing read. It's meant for someone who already has the story down but just want to whittle things down and add more depth and quality to their work.

East is East [Book #18]. I've read a few TC Boyle works and while this, his debut novel, is not my favorite of his novels, its a well-written tale with beautifully drawn characters, settings, and a story that makes you both laugh at times, and other times makes you want to sit down and weep. I both love and hate his ability to truly make you connect with the characters because they stay in your mind long after you're done reading.

The Descendants [Book #19]. Unlike K, I enjoyed the movie version of this book, but the book? Wow. It's awesome. Love the writing, the plot, and the gobbing heaping amount of heart this book has. I love how this book, unlike a movie, delves into the protagonists head and helps you understand things the movie can't possibly explain. One of my favorite fiction reads so far.

Writing Young Adult Fiction For Dummies [Book #20]. Deborah Halverson has been immeasurably beneficial to me as I edit my manuscript so when she recommended her book, I immediately grabbed it. I'm not usually into the "Dummy" books, what with the dummy implication, but this was a surprisingly useful book. 

Some Assembly Required [Book #21]. Bummer. I loved her memoir on her first year of her son's life, Operating Instructions, but this book, on her grandson, while it had good moments, was a big disappointment which stinks because I really wanted to love it. I almost felt like an editor or publisher pushed her to do this since it would be a hit considering her initial memoir [and she acknowledges this to some extent in the book itself].

Born To Run [Book #22]. I don't run. I hate running. But I sure do love to read about people running. Wow! This book explores the Tarahumara tribe and their super-athletic capabilities that segues into our own basic potential for physical and athletic greatness. This book helped to explain our evolutionary links to running and definitely makes me want to pick up the practice. Again.

Hope it's helpful! Agree? Disagree? I've two more books in the queue and then I'm facing a parched desert in books to read, so more importantly, read anything good lately? Do share! [Also, if you're on good reads, holler! I love finding suggestions through people I know!]

Those days you are immobilized by fear

Sometimes I'm torn between sitting down and absorbing the pain I see in the newspaper detailing tragedy both international like Syria, and local like the biker who was killed on his way to work a few weeks ago, or actively pushing it into the mental head space of head-shakes, and getting up and making dinner and washing sheets and going about my day.

And sometimes like today, as I clean up and listen to NPR discuss the lives lost in Aurora, Colorado and the Sikh Temple, and now, as they discuss the guilty plea by the killer in the Gabby Gifford shootings where a nine year old girl was shot, I sit down and cry because there's only so much you can attempt to pretend that you're any different from anyone else.

I can't get it out of my head. People at a place of worship. Like millions are doing in Mosques everywhere this Ramadan. Where I will be on Eid-ul-Fitr in less than ten days. People watching a movie just like I watch movies. Heading to a local political campaign. The goal of terror is to make you change your way of life, to move the way fear moves you. But I can't lie and say that I didn't see the Batman Movie because of the shooting or that that I won't be looking at all the exits come Eid day.

Each of those people were filled with their worries and to-do lists. Nap schedules and dinner menus. The paint job that just has to be done and the way your husband can't get enough of Prison Break on Netflix even though its increasingly soapy plot is slowly driving you nutty. You go to the grocery store. You buy movie tickets. You go to meet your friends and pray.

And then you don't. And suddenly none of it matters.

Having a child is a beautiful thing and it leaves you cracked with the knowledge of just how much there is to lose. News stories like this always made me sad but now they twist with a particular pain like shards of glass rubbing against my skin. All I can think of is the horror of the families left with loss. Of how no matter what things will never be okay again.

Like Susan, I fight daily the fear of my life being ripped from me. Because tragedy happens every minute of every day, some in ways that make the news, and some in ways that don't. I represented sick children. I've chatted with parents pushing their children with bald heads and princess outfits to their next oncology visit. News-making violence, daily tragedy, disease-- it can happen to anyone. At any time.

Death is a part of life. Most days I can co-exist with this knowledge, but some days when I look at my son who at this moment sits by his bookshelf reading aloud Goodnight  Moon, all I can think about is those kids who now don't have a parent, or a parent who doesn't have their child. And it terrifies me. The grief for these families is so heavy its an actual tangible feeling, that leaves me unable to breathe. No one deserves to lose a child. No young child deserves to lose a parent. And yet there's no rhyme or reason for a beautiful ordinary life turning into a nightmare from which there is no escape.

I will take a deep breath. I will get up and make my son his lunch. And I will push these fears down deep inside. One must live, love, and smile, carrying on with the knowledge of life's fragility. There really is no other option.

If you made it to the end of this meandering post, thanks for listening.

Housekeeping, toddler-rearing-- and the quest for Clean

I loved the living room of my new house as soon as we saw it. The play room. That's what it would be. I imagined the toys neatly stacked and organized. The easel in the corner. The book shelf filled with his favorite stories. The perfect way to keep my house organized in the face of a toddler who often fancies himself the Tasmanian Devil. Chaos would surely happen, but relegated to the confines of his play room.

Yeah, right.

My son's toys are everywhere. In the play room sure, but also filling up our family room and scattered through the kitchen. It's not that he has a lot of toys. Compared to other kids, he's understocked, but  puzzle pieces, legos and the like have a lot of pieces and these tiny pieces scatter. We clean up daily but by mid-afternoon you'd think a mini-cyclone passed through these parts scattering toys [and pots. and pans] in its wake.

I'm slowly realizing that keeping a house in good 'oh just drop by in five minutes no chaos here nosirreebob' order is easier said than done.

Take mopping. Our entire ground floor, save the family room, is hardwood floors. Pretty to look at but a pain to manage. The house was built in 1988, a time when some hardwoods were finished and some unfinished and for the life of me I can't figure out what type of floors these are which is important since each type has starkly different ways to be kept clean. Regardless of hardwood finish, water can't touch hardwoods which is fine and dandy but how do you manage this when the hardwoods are in the kitchen and breakfast area? Between spilled glasses, washing dishes, cooking meals--- water happens people! I keep a towel handy and do my best to immediately dry out wet spots [though I don't always succeed] but despite doing this and weekly moppings, sprinkly water marks happen. How does anyone with hardwoods and a toddler keep them looking sparkly and water mark free?

More than all of this, when you add in daily cooking and basic upkeep--- keeping a home dusted, vacuumed, mopped with scrubbed toilets and bath and organized filing systems takes time and energy and effort. And while some days when the mood really strikes me I can find myself spending nearly the entire day working away--- I'm usually left exhausted and not as fully capable of playing hide and seek, catch the penguin, and building and tearing down lego structures with the little guy I love. While I do believe as the parent staying at home, the bulk of home upkeep falls on me, I'm not staying home to be a cleaning lady. I'm home to spend time with my son. As it stands, its nearly impossible to do both perfectly.

Miss Suzy Homemaker I am not. But I do want to keep the tide of chaos a step away. With a toddler, this often feels like something that is just never going to happen. A mom I met recently joked that the worst thing one mother can do to another is clean up before a play date. This makes me think that maybe? I'm not alone. 

Look mama! All the pots you could possibly need for tonight's meal!

If you're reading this do you have any advice or tips that worked for you in keeping the house clean and/or organized? Or, are you like me, constantly pushing back an impending avalanche? I know this time is temporary and I am truly enjoying every drop of it but when it comes to house-keeping with a toddler in tow, I would love to get some perspective!

On theft and bubble bursting

Yesterday, someone stole my credit card.

I went to my local Publix with a sneezing, coughing, cranky kiddo in tow. I purchased groceries,  loaded up the car and strapped in the kiddo when I realized: I couldn't find my keys. I searched everywhere, under the car, in my purse, the glove compartment and finally gave up when they were discovered safe and sound with my son who then promptly [and quite gleefully] tossed them to the ground.

Clearly, not a brain fully present and accounted for sort of day, I decided to go home and nap when Waleed napped because the brain cells needed time to recharge their batteries. The rest of the day passed uneventfully, a doctor's visit for my kiddo, a pit stop at Target, and then, that evening I pulled out my purse to make some credit card payments when I realized: my Discover was missing.

This is not an unusual occurrence. My credit cards are frequently missing and typically wedged between couch cushions or inside rarely worn shoes [my son, he's creative]. I shrugged and logged in to my account sans credit card to see a hefty charge to an online store selling gothic ware.

You might not have met me, but I assure you, a goth I am not. I called up the credit card company and lo and behold, someone was trying to use my card in a full blown shopping spree at online clothing, music, and shoe stores. Said thief also attempted to purchase stocks. Discover caught the issue quickly, removed the charges, and sent me a new card.  Don't worry, they told me, there's not much more they can do now.

I know credit card theft happens, its happened to me before, but this one wigged me out more than usual. In addition to the bewilderment at how my credit card got stolen from between swiping it at the check out and searching for my keys, the thing that I couldn't shake, and that Discover really couldn't answer for me was, don't you have to put in a billing address for an online purchase? A card in hand is enough to buy stuff in physical stores, but online, its not enough. Maybe the company had lax security standards, the fraud specialist suggested.

I called the goth company's "contact us" number and reached a human who looked up the order based on my name and proceeded to inform me that the order went through because the thief had my billing address.

Cue freak out.

It's one thing to take my credit card and buy a box of bunnies from PetSmart, but to do this online they had to know my address. And they did. I've only lived at my current address for two months. It's not really Google-able. So, how did they get it? What else will they do?

The goth site canceled the order and gave me the order number should I wish to give it to the police. Which I did, this morning. I figure the shipping address, which the police can obtain, most likely is the address of the thief. I had to stifle both an urge to feel silly reporting the theft, and the urge to giggle as the officer told me this will be forwarded to our detective for further investigation, as I imagined two detectives Law and Order style with stoic faces reading the report in their dimly lit office and finger printing the Publix parking lot. [yeah, likely not].

This is not my first brush with theft. I've been the victim of a home break-in, car-smash-purse-snatch, and we were pick pocketed by Gypsies on the streets of Madrid, to name a few instances. These were all chilling experiences that remind you yet again that as many good and wonderful people there are, there are also people who, well, aren't.

And while that is part of the disconcerting feeling, its a bit different this time. Maybe its because I have a son now and the thought of some nameless person with my address leaves me feeling vulnerable. Maybe its because they Googled me. They saw this blog, my pictures; somehow this makes the theft feel more personal.

I'm lucky. I live in a country with a police system that took something so small so seriously. They might even investigate [they said they will, but with meth labs and murders I'm assuming this is low on the priority list totem-pole] and my credit card company caught the attempted shopping spree in time. I used to be vigilant but a few years of calm have left me more lax and now I'm the sort of person who, case in point yesterday, occasionally forgets to lock her car doors because well, I live in a safe area. As much as it stinks to be reminded that there is evil out there, it's important to know that evil exists even in my seemingly safe neighborhood. Better a lesson like this to burst my bubble than something far worse.

Say I seek refuge with the Sustainer of men. . . from the evil of the whispering elusive tempter who whispers in the heart of men, from all temptation to evil by invisible forces as well as men. -- Quran, Surah 114