They say you can't go home again. I've become haunted by this proverb. In my case I can go home again. Dundalk, MD is home, it's where I grew up. But it no longer feels like home. I don't live in Dundalk anymore, but I live close enough that I can visit when I get the itch to return to something familiar. Most of the food joints I ate at while growing up are long gone. The McDonald's I worked at on Wise Avenue--just across the street from my house--before my senior year in high school (summer 1995) was razed and rebuilt. Now, it's a box, an ugly box with no soul or character that is utterly unwelcoming. In the '80s and '90s the mansard-roof McDonald's restaurant wanted families to stay in and eat; but today, they practically demand you get your food and promptly leave. They don't want you there. In fact, they'd appreciate if you use the drive-thru, or better yet, get it delivered for another 5 bucks and just stay home altogether. This can be ...