It's not a barn raising or a condo meeting that bring neighbors together around here; it's just a block party that's been happening every fall for over twenty years. It's amazing how little we see the people that live just around the corner or even next door, but at least once a year here we come- dragging food and beverages up the street. The kids go ape roaring up and down on trikes and bikes, trying to intercept the desserts before they hit the table. The older residents head for the chairs. It's a pot luck: pizza arrives, shepherd's pie, mac and cheese, bean soup and tacquitos. We pool our beverages, and the party is on. It's anarchy. We're all so busy eating and yacking that the lone car which evaded the barricades takes over fifteen minutes to make it through through the crowd. It feels like Mayberry- not DC where, just across town, in what could be should be and in many ways is just as nice a neighborhood, people are shooting at each other- eleven in all over the weekend. A teenager was killed. One of the boys that was hurt attends my daughter's school. It's a world away from my block- and yet just around the corner.
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