Every now and then, we get stuck at an exit. It may be time for a sandwich, time to walk through the warehouse club, time for gas or Debby just needs to wander through a fabric store. Fabric is really just an upgraded term for "cloth," but I digress, which I do a lot. Nevertheless, do not ever call fabric "cloth" in the presence of a true seamstress upon penalty of drawing back a bloody nub.Now as I was saying, any number of things can bog you down at an exit, but sometimes they are worth the bog. Consider this incident late last summer in Virginia. We stumbled into one of those developments where people, usually young city dwellers, live, work, shop and play without ever having to go more than a couple of blocks. It was late afternoon and a really good band complete with dancers was saturating the airwaves with vibes of joy. A block party had developed, right in the heart of it all.
We heard the thump thump a couple of blocks away and drove in to get a better look. Before we knew it, there we stood on the courtyard with all the other revelers, swaying and nodding to the beat. Some folks danced while others twirled with young children. Some participated and some just watched. Summertime was everywhere and for that moment at least, it was good to be stuck.
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