I rested briefly in the motel room and then we decided to drive around Rochester so I could see for myself some of the places Dad had visited on his afternoon strolls. Many of the streets were lovely, bordered with trees which grew from scrupulously trimmed lawns. The houses behind the green lawns and sculptured shrubs loomed with magnificence and grandeur; some displayed vast entry-ways while others boasted fine masonry and stonework. I had little doubt but that these were the homes of surgeons, businessmen and prominent city personnel. The outward appearance of the homes showed nothing but orderliness and tranquility, yet for all of the pervasive greenery, the scene lacked a sense of life; no one peered through the windows, no boy clad in cut-off jeans mowed the grass, no children played on the clean-swept-steps, nothing moved but the trees in the wind. I reflected on the sight dismally. Perhaps it was considered improper to be "seen" outdoors; I lamented the plight of some people, for whom natural beauty seemed not a thing to be enjoyed, but merely a device by which one's wealth could be measured, something tangible, something which could be had. I had once heard that through riches one might be free; yet that which I saw in these streets was bondage of the most pitiable sort, for it was entirely self-imposed. Restrictions and social codes made by and for the elite were gladly followed, and those who bent under their weight, stooped willingly. Conformity can eventually overshadow the individual, rendering his former joys meaningless, if he desires to exist amid prefabricated expectations as determined by status rather than true values. Such are the hazards of social living; personally, however, I would rather sit on my front steps and wave at passersby. Then I remembered; it was noon, a September weekday. . . the children were in school, the parents at work, and youngsters were most likely receiving their lunch. It was I who was an alien spectacle, not the streets through which we were driving; had it not been for my hospitalization, I, too, would have been seated amongst a classroom of students, and Dad at work. Again I mused over the beautiful sights. Maybe I had simply come at the wrong time; every street can seem deserted. I hoped that these lawns were loved as I loved my own. We roved about the city, finally stopping at an outdoor mall which extended far beyond my ability to traverse. Dad and I entered only several shops which contained the novelty items that had served as my daily surprises while residing in the hospital. I tired easily, however, so we found our way to the motel once more.