People, Places and Things...My Kind of Nouns

Barbra Streisand, who (ironically) has a lifelong case of stage fright, had it right.  People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.  That's certainly how I felt about my Fourth of July yesterday.   And, if I may throw in a tenuous reference to an observation C.S. Lewis made about the genius of Catholic parishes, there is something pretty wonderful about finding joy in the people you have no say in choosing--your family and your neighbors. 

Beyond savoring the smoked ribs and the surprisingly long-lasting Blue Angel fountain ($1.29 from Crazy Cracker), it was the people who made this Fourth especially enjoyable for me, and I have daughter Allison to thank for getting that ball rolling.  Her suggestion to bring together the Holts and the Raglins (unlike, say, gathering the Capulets and Montagues or the Jets and the Sharks) was a great one, in part, because everyone plays so well together.

While Martha Stewart might choke on a palate-cleansing spoonful of sorbet to hear me admit this (and, really, would it be such a bad thing for her to choke just a little?), my one gift as a host comes wrapped in a proverbial brown paper bag--I keep it simple.  Mostly, I keep it simple because I lack the skills to do otherwise.  But I tell myself that if the point is to gather and to enjoy that time together, a simple approach (you bring something, I bring something, then we sit down, eat and talk about it) really is the best approach.

. . . and having family members who truly enjoy each other guarantees that things will always work out well in the end.  Of course, good food, decent weather, paper plates, and a friendly Ladder Golf competition (with  prizes!) didn't hurt our chances either!

The neighborly followup was equally low-key and enjoyable.  It is amazing, the magnetic power of a city-owned sidewalk.  Drawn to it like moths to flame, as the sun set, we each made our way to the others, with promise of cold drinks, simple snacks,  and just enough fireworks and glowing punks to guarantee a short show. 

I'd be hard pressed to choose better folks than the ones I gathered with last night.

Long into their lives, I think that my children will hold dear this image of folding chairs and friendly banter, punctuated by short bursts of Crayola-flecked fountains and whirling dervishes, the happy embrace of good people come together and a warm summer's night holding us all close.