Many months ago, my daughter must have heard me grousing about how hipsters in SUVs were, in real terms, probably more dangerous than the gangbangers whose former homes the former moved into. Not to get sentimental about the psychopaths whose actions have led to the deaths of too many children in this neighborhood. But I am sure that the careless driving of some of the pretty folks is more of a live hazard than the statistical unlikelihood of being caught by a stray bullet. I have said it before: At least the gangbangers drove slowly.

Be that as it may, my five-year-old daughter, Madeleine, may have heard me reflecting on this particular (now well-worn) pet peeve because she has formed the notion that traffic is caused by hipsters. When we get stuck in traffic she shouts from the back seat of the car, "Come on, hipsters! Move!"