Is San Francisco a city, a village, or both?
A Super Bowl block party where all the neighbors know each other and the host gave me a 5-pound bag of popcorn kernels. Toto, are we back in Kansas?
Neighbors stopped by the tent for a bite of pulled pork in homemade rolls. Someone brought sesame seed chicken wings. Some people didn’t know who was playing, some people didn’t care. It was an excuse to come out and say hello to the neighbors. The boys threw the football around on the street and yelled, “Car!” when a car came by. Girls practiced their roller blades and scooters. Every once in a while, there was an exciting play or a song by Katy Perry and we sat down on the carpeted (!) tent and drank wine, frizzy drinks, and cheered for … whoever.
My son wishes we lived in this neighborhood. My wife often talks about how she wanted to live on the street where her friends lived for years and years. I actually lived right at the center of the makeshift baseball diamond in my neighborhood, so we were in good shape.
But we can visit neighbors. That’s how they’re neighbors, they’re not so far away. You
can visit places you like to go. If you lived there, they might not be as special anymore … although my son would disagree. So would I, it’s a fun neighborhood. I don’t know as many neighbors in my neighborhood as I met randomly tonight … and shared popcorn popping recipes with over … coconut water and talk of crazy wheat grass drinks available (sometimes) at CostCo, but only the San Francisco city CostCo. It is San Francisco after all.
So is it a city, a town, or a village? It’s up to you. It’s what you want it to be. But tonight, it was down to a single, partially closed off, football filled, homemade bread and spicy chili slow-paced avenue.