EPISODE 936: THE KINDNESS OF NEIGHBORS
Glimpses of Forever at an Autumn Block Party
POP CULTURE SPIRIT WOW
This weekend the New Jersey neighborhood in which some friends live had their annual autumn celebration. There were pumpkins and scarecrows for kids to decorate, a light rock band made up of neighborhood musicians, and a million appetizers and desserts brought by different families to accompany the meat being cooked on the industrial size barbecue.
The weather reports had all predicted rain, but instead we got a brilliantly warm day with clear skies, like a perfect summer afternoon.
In the suburbs of Chicago where I grew up we used to do something like this on my block in the summer. I don’t much remember it beyond everyone amiably wandering the street, striking up conversations. It was fascinating to come back and watch something similar happening with the eyes of an adult.
This community has a ton of kids in it, most of them pretty young, many in delightful outfits with little black cats or pumpkins on them. While the adults chatted and ate, the kids were kind of in a world all their own. Older kids rode their bicycles up and down on the street, working on their balance with the seriousness of a nuclear physicist, while young ones on tiny bikes with training wheels like something out of the circus wobbled delightedly.
Across the street one young kid, unnoticed by the adults, shook a stop sign as hard as he could. When he had it waving strongly, he stepped to the side and simply watched it, like a scientist doing an experiment. Meanwhile off in a thin strip of trees a boy and a girl picked up pieces of wood and examined what was hiding underneath, while a troop of kids picked up handfuls of leaves from the street and worked to create a handsome pile.
Among the adults were a number of grandparents. I watched a girl walk her grandmother into the park, the woman’s gait slow and tender to any possible wrinkle in the pavement. And for a good part of the afternoon one older man watched his grandson play. It was clear that he was there looking out for the boy, probably giving his daughter and son-in-law a break. But I sensed a quiet sense of relish in it, too, his grandchild a wondrous things to him, a precious treasure.
I usually feel like a fish out of water at these kinds of events. I don’t live here. I don’t know many people. I don’t have a family of my own. And to be honest, as much as some might think otherwise, I’m a massive introvert when I’m thrust into a big group. (Weirdly, it’s far worse if it’s a group of people I know, but it’s not great either way.)
But my friends were stationed at the entrance to the event, taking money and giving out instructions for various things. And for as shy as I can be, I actually love the opportunity to be at the entrance to an event, cheering them on. There was a high school teacher with an absolutely perfect set of ghost earrings. She told me her students will probably ridicule her but she doesn’t care. To me it seemed like the kind of detail they will remember.
Another lady wore a bunch of fantastic bracelets filled with colorful stones. It turns out she makes them herself. There were two guys whose dog was emphatically earnest to leap into your arms, and another whose dog snuck out of his yard to attend the event. I tried to guess one man’s accent and guessed pretty much every country in Western Europe before realizing he was French. And about halfway through the afternoon someone who had just moved into the neighborhood stopped by and showed my friends the most amazing digital drawings he’d done. Turns out he’d spent 15 years as a Disney Imagineer.
As the sun began to descend, the shadows of the trees grew long, and the light in the leaves rosy. A scarecrow for some reason designed to look like a pig won a prize, while someone else won over $250 in the 50/50 raffle. The guitarist allowed a little boy to strum his guitar while he played. The boy’s feet seemed to float above the ground as he walked away, now with his very own white band-member hat. Elsewhere, one of the community leaders reassured someone that they hadn’t neglected their duties. “You were just where you needed to be.”
There’s something inherently wistful about late afternoon on an autumn day, even a summery one. You can’t help notice the leaves falling, the season changing, and know it’s all coming not just for the trees but for you.
But the felt ephemerality of that moment somehow also grants it a permanent place in one’s memory. It was a special day, and it will stay that way.
I walked home to the sounds of the children’s laugher echoing down the street, under clouds of purple and pink.
I’m reporting for Popverse at New York Comic Con Thursday-Sunday. That may mean radio silence over the weekend, but hopefully not. You never know!
Thanks to everyone for reading. I hope you have a lovely week!