Oh yeah... There's a party over here...

So I usually make it habit not to know my neighbors.

We have lived in 8 places in 17 years of marriage. Not counting full summers in Puerto Rico and Virginia at others houses.

And inevitably - where ever we are that we break our law and get to know people - it usually bites you in the ass. Yeah - I know the whole - love your neighbor stuff... But trust me... Its not something that is to be done.

Now this may fly in the face of hundreds of years of history - but it proved true for us. Even though we broke the rule so many times, it wasn't funny.

One example. We lived next to a huge family in VA. They had 6 kids. One day - I have my suitcase in my hand - I'm walking out the door leaving for a shoot for Discovery- when the 17 year old neighbor girl rings the bell. I open the door and she is bleeding everywhere... I let her in and she says - call 911. I do, getting her to the couch. 911 asks me what happened - I say I don't know. Just that my neighbor is here and she is bleeding really bad. They say to ask her what happened - and I do... And she says:

My dad beat me up.

Needless to say - I was up the creek. Let's say that 4 police cars - two ambulances (cause later the Mom comes out screaming - and then faints) and a whole neighborhood of onlookers gather outside my house. When I walk out with my suitcase - I'm sure it looked like I was getting kicked out.

Anyways. That was one example of many.

I only bring this up because we fail to heed our own warnings. We now live in a tiny town of 3000 people. Our street is a small cul-de-sac of 9 homes - and last night we had a block party.

As a kid growing up on the North Side of Chicago - for 3 years- we had a block party every summer. Granted it was more like 30 homes - but I always loved it. They would literally block the ends of the streets with police barricades and we would go.

Bike races for the kids. Big wheel races for those who couldn't ride a bike yet. Lots of food.

And the one thing I remember above all else.

Home made ice cream.

I remember all the men gathering - with beer in hand - taking turns cranking those machines until the ice cream was done. And it took hours. It was never fast enough. But the taste was divine. I'm sure if I had it now, it could never live up to the memory.

So last night we had a block party here. And while I have tons of stuff to do for next week - and I am really tired from the stinking jet lag - I wanted to go. For the kids. But also for me... Cause for some reason - those block parties really stood out in my mind as some of the really fun times of my childhood.

Even though the thing didn't start till 5 - one of the neighbors - the rich ones - rented a huge moon bounce that arrived at 8 in the morning. So all day - the kids made their way over there - jumped for an hour till someone got hurt - and then came back as they would deflate it. Later it was up again and worth a return trip.

At 5 we moseyed our way next door - where everyone else already was - and took our place amongst the neighbors. Made a lot of small talk. Answered even more questions about why the movie wasn't going yet - and thankfully none about why my lawn looks so bad.

Explained why I was traveling West this year each week instead of East.

And then we ate.
And played Redneck Golf.
And Volleyball - till it got so dark you couldn't see the ball. One woman on my team thought she was reliving her golden years before two kids and had an awesome overhand serve that she mercilessly dropped on the other team over and over - slamming the ball into faces, chests and arms - never once getting the hint that all of us thought she was a tool way more then she obviously thought she was really impressing us with her abilities...At one point we actually turned on some car headlights to light up the court - and continued playing until the battery died.

My son in the moonbounce getting trounced by our next door neighbor who is a year younger and 30 pounds heavier than he is. And then getting busted for running around yelling "wiener wiener wiener" and getting all the little kids to copy him.

My daughter bringing out the bat and hitting balls across the street and into the neighbors yard.

My wife talking smack on the volleyball court - then acing us.

The night ended with a bonfire in the back of my neighbors yard. They had a little portable thing you put a fire in. Armondo - my neighbor - told me when he was a kid in Mexico - they would just put wood on the floor and burn in. Then sit around and play guitar and sing. We just roasted marshmallows as it got colder and colder - laughing at the kids burning anything they could get their hands on.

But like all good things - it came to an end with the four of us returning home - and all gathering in the bed - with the dog - and falling fast asleep.

So in the end - while we did violate our own rule - so far- and I do mean so far - it has not come back and bit us in the ass.

Hold on - there goes the doorbell....