When Absolut Vodka, in honor of the release of Absolut Brooklyn and their collaboration with the Brooklyn Blogfest, asked me to write a post for my blog about the stoop life, this is what came to mind:

It seems like I’ve spent years of my life sitting on the limestone stoop of my apartment building in Park Slope watching the world go by.

From the stoop I’ve watched my children grow. Now 13 and 19, they’ve spent countless hours playing with friends, inventing imaginary games, and racing their bikes and scooters from one end of the block to the other.

On hot summer days we used to take the plastic turtle kiddy pool out of the basement and fill it with iced cold water. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a lavish suburban pool. I could cool my toes and supervise the kids having plenty of splashy fun.

More meals than I can remember have been eaten on our Third Street stoop.  We’ve ordered Chicken Lo Mein from Szechuan Delight and pizza from Pino’s and enjoyed homemade barbecue grilled on the Weber that we keep chained to our basement gate.

Those summer barbecues are legend on Third Street.  Neighbors bring their salads, meats, fish, vegetables and condiments downstairs and everyone cooks and eats together. My neighbor on the first floor always mans the barbecue expertly grilling the food, his face sweaty and red by the end of the night.

After dinner, the kids roast marshmallows on the grill and make chocolate S’mores, which leave a sticky mess on the sidewalk the next morning.

On Halloween night, we have a VIP view from the stoop of the magical Park Slope Halloween Parade as colorfully costumed adults and children move past our building.

Throughout the year, I learn the news of the block, the neighborhood, the city and the world from the stoop.

I was on the stoop when I found out that a young mother in the building next door was dying of brain cancer. Neighbors and friends banded together to help the family through this unthinkable tragedy.

I was on the stoop when I heard the faint rumble of an airplane hitting the second tower of the World Trade Center. I wasn’t sure what I was hearing until my neighbor ran into the building with radio pinned to his ear.

“We’re being attacked.” he said.

News travels fast on the stoop, where we talk about our children’s successes and troubles. We share news of weddings, graduations, school admissions, reunions; it’s where we keep up to date on local politics and school life. We complain, whine, opine, brag, tell stories, joke and basically live our lives out loud on the stoop.

Some years we create a container garden on the concrete filling clay pots with pansies, geraniums and even tomatoes and basil.

At stoop sales we have spread the detritus of our lives out on the street and bargained with neighbors and passers-by over the price of my children’s used clothing and outgrown toys.

Although my children are now teenagers they still use the stoop like their own private patio. On the stoop, my 19 year old plays Magic Cards with his friends and stages casual sing-along tributes to The Pixies and Arcade Fire. My daughter shares secrets with her friends on the stoop, while they paint each other’s nails with purple polish.

But I don’t have to watch my children play anymore like I used to. We’ve moved on from the stage of our lives when I was a constant witness. They’re on their own more and more, which gives me more time alone, too.

Sometimes I sit by myself on the stoop with a good book and a cool drink. My stoop life is quieter now without my children careening up and down the block on scooters but there are plenty of young children to observe. It’s the next generation living the stoop life, spending the days of their lives on the great streets of Brooklyn.