A few weeks ago, I met my neighbor, Nate, for the first time, and after determining that his name is not Luke, as previously thought, I suggested that he host a barbecue. I am not usually so forthright, but a few other neighbors and I had been talking about some sort of V Street get-together, and the unique set up of our street makes his yard ideal. You see, only one side of our block has houses that face V Street. On the opposite side, where Nate lives, the houses actually face another street, and the backyards are the ones that are on V Street. I can see Nate's backyard from my front porch.
Being a nice guy, Nate agreed and a week later, the partying commenced. It started small, just my family and our landlord Jonathan (once he found some pants), but as the night wore on, more of our neighbors joined the festivities. By the time we left at eight, there were twenty people or so in and around Nate's tiny yard.
The most amazing thing about this is that our block is about as diverse as it gets. We have young people, old people, black and white, single and married, gay and straight. And almost everyone was there, including Miss Dee, our tiny, elderly neighbor who hauled over her giant boombox, complete with extension cord and bag of cassette tapes. Apparently she usually goes to bed at seven, but stayed at the party past nine to play DJ.
Kurt and I moved to here in 2008 because we knew the landlord and got a good deal on the rent. Five years and two children later, we are still here, enjoying our life on V Street.