Okay, it's not ALL that was there, but it's all that I have to show.
We arrived just in time to see the Extraordinary Rendition Band, and I started bawling like a baby, because that type of music makes me weirdly emotional. But I told myself, "For God's sake, pull yourself together. This is a block party."
I enjoyed the block party in all the usual ways: the food trucks, some wine, some walking around, running into various friends, texting my children in vain, to get them to come down there.
I made sure to check out the Dorcas International Institute table, where the "Get Involved!" clipboard already contained hella names and numbers. Because who doesn't want to give newcomers a RI welcome and some support as they learn English and settle in and create their own La Vida Rhody, amirite?
Eventually, hunger drove Kid #2 out of the house, and he showed up and found himself in possession of a homemade, bacon-cheddar bratwurst from Gastros (it was sick, he said, and he wishes he had gotten two). I dashed over to the Nitro Cart. I am here to tell you that this shit is, in fact, bananas, and that's all I'm going to say about that. If you want to know what makes this iced coffee so special, you're going to have to get your hands on some.
The Hope St. Block Party is its own kind of bananas. It's over now, until next year, but the folks who planned and executed it so perfectly are up and at it on Hope every day, and the trucks and carts and booths and general awesomeness are all around us in RI.