I am currently working on a book about the somewhat hardscrabble urban neighborhood we live in. The other night I was writing about coaching a Rec. Center soccer team. Driving one of the boys home after a game, he pointed to some toughs hanging out on a street corner near his house. “Them’s the drug dealers. They always trying to get me to try some…” he said. The boy is eight-years-old. I recently told the Wooster Daily News that in a saner world, no child would be continually trying to dodge hunger, drugs and bullets growing up, anywhere.