There's A Place For Us

I've been dwelling on place for the past few days. Ironic, since a dwelling is in fact a place, but only one of a myriad of spots that we might find ourselves throughout time. It began as a musing when I noticed that someone had moved into the house down the street that had recently been the home for a pair of boys my son played with. It became a place where my son could go and play video games and shoot Nerf guns at one another. Now that the boys have moved, it's a much quieter place.
It got me to thinking about all the places I have lived. They are most certainly quieter places now, since I am told by many of my close friends that I have "no indoor voice." All of these were apartments, with the exception of my freshman dorm room and my parents' house. Owning a home means I have a place to turn up my stereo without the people above and below me stomping on the floor - unless they happen to be my wife or son reminding me that I am no longer eighteen years old and Rush is not everyone's cup of tea at any volume.
The place I live now is having a surge in youth gang activity. We know this because of the surge in youth gang spray-painting. This morning as I ran past the tags of "School Boi" and "ESO" it occurred to me that these kids didn't have a place, or if they did, it wasn't the place that they wanted to be. A place where they could turn up their stereos, and the only guns they shot at each other were full of spongy darts.
This may be oversimplification. Maybe I need to go someplace and figure it out. I've got a few in mind.