I return from a weekend in the Bay Area today to find my quiet residential street closed to traffic and transformed into a giant Labor Day barbecue and block party.
My landlady, Diane, is overseeing one of several grills sizzling with meat, and there are tables set out with salads and fruit under canopies. Small children are jumping in moonbounces and sliding down a big inflatable water slide. Long-haired teen-agers are doing tricks on their skateboards and falling down. A small band is playing. I am greeted warmly and offered food and drink.
Every weary traveler should be welcomed home like this.
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