After college, I took a job with one of those send teachers to hoods around the country businesses and landed in Southern California. Specifically, on Indiana street right off of Alondra exactly 3.9 miles from the street in Compton on which my older brother was raised. He born two years before me, given up for adoption and was unknown to me until freshman year of college. By the time I moved to Paramount, we were great friends and I was excited to be so close to him. He moved in. We got real close. It was a one bedroom apartment on a dead end street. My brother picked it for me because the block had more Mexicans than Blacks. "They understand 'I don't bang' he informed me."
My fondest memory of living there is playing NBA Live with my brother. We had a playstation but no television. My brother got a seven inch black and white television from his stepfather for us to use. It had only antenna screws in the back so we had to go to Radio Shack and get a thirty-five dollar converter so that we could hook the playstation up. We played for hours.
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