Word: suburbanized
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...expect I’ll have a career where it’s going to be years and years between pitching performances,” said Summers, who threw for his Little League team in suburban Philadelphia before giving up the sport at age 12. He’s been a tennis player ever since...
...attacks on 7/7 were a reminder that Europe is, more than ever, a center of the threat. That's partly because European nations like Britain have a tradition of welcoming immigrants from North Africa and Pakistan. The children of those immigrants--many of them jobless and ghettoized in insular suburban tracts or city centers--often feel alienated from the ambient permissiveness of London or Paris. Alienated and bored: Peter Bergen, author of Holy War, Inc., wrote in the New York Times last week that the unemployment rate among 16- to 24-year-old Muslim men in Britain...
Oppenheimer’s Jewish travels begin in New York, where he attends bar and bat mitzvah services at Westchester Reform Temple in suburban Scarsdale, B’nai Jeshurun on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, and Emanu-El on the East Side—and sneaks into the subsequent parties. He finds that the potential religious significance of the ceremonies is lost as rabbis and cantors focus on educating a mostly non-Jewish audience about the service itself. As Oppenheimer, who is currently editor of the New Haven Advocate, writes of the Westchester synagogue...
...systematically damaged calculators and laboratory equipment, flooded the building with fire hoses, overturned furniture and splashed paint all over the walls. Something like that happens every week in some community, but last week's example was notable because it occurred in one of the wealthiest and most stable suburban communities in the U.S.: Greenwich, Conn. There, in a city that has no serious racial or community problems, the intruders damaged the high school to the tune of more than $10,000 and forced it to close down...
Night falls early near the equator, and by 6:30 p.m. it’s dusky here in suburban Santa Ana, Costa Rica. By 10:00 p.m. it is pitch black on the main thoroughfare through the village, a road with no name and no street lamps, like every other street here. Tonight it is raining-raining black oil, slicking roads, roofs, every breathable molecule of air-and I am standing outside in the pitch darkness on the no-name main street, waiting to catch a bus to Piedades, another suburb of San Jose: I’m going night...