Yesterday Street: for me it was 2635 Nottingham, in West University Place, where my mom took me swimming, my dad taught me chess, and all we had to fear was Ken Ford's BB gun. (The Last Roundup)

Texas Monthly, September, 2002 by Kinky Friedman

GROWING UP IN HOUSTON IN THE fifties now seems a magical, oblivious moment that shines through the traffic-clogged world of today and lingers like a love affair from one's youth. As kids at Edgar Allan Poe Elementary School, my little friends and I quite possibly did not realize or appreciate that Houston was one of the hottest, most humid places in the civilized world, teeming with mosquitoes and oil-rich right-wingers, stunted by polio and segregation, blessed with banana splits and Christmas tree forts. We just thought of it as home. For some of us, it's still home. For others, it is a place we once loved that has long since become a station on the way.

Yesterday Street for me was 9.635 Nottingham, in West University Place, where my mother took me swimming at...