Block Party

They strung lights from a balcony on the north side of the street to the fenceline running along the sidewalk of the south side. Someone knew someone who provided L.A. county barricades, placed at either end of the street. A rental van brought fold-up tables and chairs, placed them in the road, plastic table cloths secured with clips covering them. Then they arrived: his playhouse has their first show open in a month; her class’s comedy class wrapped last week; he arrived late and left early to finish sound mixing a feature; she teared up, thinking of her father figure who recently passed and would’ve enjoyed the party. They brought crockpots and sternos and aluminum trays full of pasta. Someone drew an extension cord and ran an air fryer for fresh garlic bread. A man in the balcony above brought his soundbar and played music. As the sun set and the stars appeared in the evening sky, the group lit up the street with lamps and the sound of chatter and music, which any stranger could notice from blocks away and come see the commotion.

No. 136