Aren't I a little young to get so nostalgic?

What is it about these Americana holidays that strikes images of childhood and somehow stirs up the memories and longings from THAT time in your life? How is it that I can look back on that time in my life, that time when I was still untouched by cynicism (okay, I was 4 -- but still) and I can still remember the things that I wanted then?? I don't even have a CLUE how my life is going to turn out now, but I sure had it all figured out then...

I grew up on a block, and I'm not talking a la I'm still Jenny from the block. The Suburbia version of "the block." All of the parents had moved in about the same time, when the neighborhood was still fresh and new. We knew the neighbors and they knew us because that's just how it was back then. And NOT just the closest neighbors, but all the way around the curve in the court and beyond. And somehow there was an imaginary line between those who were in the neighborhood group and those who weren't. It wasn't a color thing -- way too much vanilla in the suburbs in those days -- it was just a convenience thing. You just didn't live close enough to be involved in our pig roast, it wasn't personal. And the house that I grew up in was this big, sprawling Colonial style house that dominated the court. My house was where it started, it was the starting point of all the summer games and it was the meet-up point after a day at war. Even my mailbox was the home base for kickball. My yard was where everyone chilled out in between kicks or between rounds of run around like crazy people and call it "war" just so we have an excuse to jump in the creek once. That and look at all those tadpoles! We've got to get a couple because if we keep 'em and take care of 'em then we'll have our own FROGS!

And so, when the big event holidays rolled around -- then it was time for a block PARTY. The block party was the greatest anticipated event of the summer. The excitement would rise to a fever pitch for the kids and it was the ONLY thing we would talk about. Our moms were frantically preparing dishes that would be satisfactory for everyone, while Mrs. Lewis -- who was the closest to a movie star I knew when I was little because she was beautiful and she was English so she had that lovely accent -- always made wine punch. Or wine margaritas. All I know is her arrival was very much anticipated by the adults, while a bit of a downer for the kids since we could never drink any of the things that everyone always raved about. Most often the events were held at our closest neighbors, the Murphy's, which once again made my house the near command-central: I was closest to the action without having the constant adults swarming everywhere. And the kids got to run around and tear up the streets -- I was allowed to travel distances heretofor unheard of (the great Grounding of my life came when I biked all the way out to the first major intersection just as Dad was driving home from work) but never really considered it for long, because who wanted to leave all the hubbub? The people and the food and the happiness that sparkled on the air. It started slowly humming at about 11am and it didn't stop until late that night. Someone usually knew how to play guitar so we'd gather in a driveway with our rickety lawn chairs and just sit and sing or listen to the guitar player sing. And the crickets were chirping and we'd already been on our big snipe hunt by then. And the people were always there and always familiar and it was HOME. Even when you're that young, you know how good it feels to be home and in your own comfort zone. You can't put those words to it, but you know this is a feeling you never want to end.

This is what I knew I wanted from my life when I grew up. I figured I'd marry Mrs. Lewis's son because he was the closest to my age and we seemed to hit it off (how hard can this be when you're 7?). We'd have a house there in Fairfield and we'd start our own section of close-knit neighbors. And incorporate a circle of close-knit friends from the outskirts of the neighborhood, too. We'd get together a couple times a month to play cards and bs and brag about our kids over-blown accomplishments. ("Why, little Johnny finally stopped wetting the bed -- isn't he the brightest kid ever?" "Um, for a 10-year-old??")

But, with the advent of fear and loathing in our society -- there's not so much of that block atmosphere anymore, is there? You maybe know your two closest neighbors, but you probably wouldn't want them in your house. And you don't have that easy mix of big groups of friends, because we're not working in a 9 to 5 society anymore so it's much harder to get people with same schedules together. Much less people with the same schedules who compromise on their likes and dislikes enough to come together as a group more than once a year. We're pickier now than we used to be, aren't we? We need people who fulfill as like missing puzzle pieces, instead of just simple companions. If we don't agree with all of the thoughts and feelings of others, then we have no time or room in our lives to find out what else rounds that person out. It's as if we consider ourselves too good to be on the Block, isn't it?

I'm not sure what the answer is. I want those feelings of yesteryear and that ease of companionship, but... With MY neighbors?? Maybe next house. ;-)

Cynically yours,
HP