My husband and I grew up in little rural Midwestern towns, where cows outnumbered people and the nearest traffic light was in the next town. These towns may not be the entertainment capitals of the world, but one good thing about them is the rapport between neighbors. In a place that small, you can’t help but know everyone on your street … intimately and, for that matter, practically every street in town. And because everyone knew everyone, block parties were a regular event come summer time. It isn't at all unusual to be out enjoying an evening stroll and suddenly get an invitation to someone’s impromptu shindig. The food is simple but satisfying, the company outstanding, the attitude “the more the merrier” … and the fun always lasts well into the darkness, until you can't stand the mosquitoes any more.

Fast-forward a few years, and imagine our surprise when we moved to big, bustling Las Vegas. Don’t get me wrong, Vegas is a great city. It has its charms – but a cozy, well-acquainted hamlet it is definitely not. Despite that, though, we hoped that maybe within its respective neighborhoods we would find more of a community spirit. Wrong! Even though we moved into an established, traditional neighborhood, on a street lined with houses instead of apartments, we were surprised to find out that no one knew each other – not even, it seems, enough to say a friendly hello over the fence. Flabbergasted, we made it our mission to introduce ourselves to everyone and try to bring some of that small-town neighborly familiarity into our new urban locality.