I realized all the parties I’ve gone out to last summer were held on balconies and common areas of apartment buildings.
A very nice thing to do, weather permitting, and romantic if the stars are out, but I wouldn’t hold one in such a location myself, because of fear of disturbing the neighbors.
I always do my entertaining in a basement poolroom.
I spend the whole summer trying to arrange one party after another. We’ve got a really cool park here with a small waterfall and mineral fountain and trails, and a ball field.
If I’ve got families coming, we hang at the waterfall, and if it’s a company group we play softball and kill a keg.
And grilling! Did I say grilling? They have a huge grill, the kind with a basket winch that lowers stuff to the perfect level over the coals. Mixed grill, some of everything, plus the fancy veggies for impressing the boss’s wife.
Nightclubs. Got to have a dance floor.
My dear friend, Molly, has a great home that she often entertains in. It’s a California Craftsman style, and it has a huge porch where half the party camps out on. She has a lovely garden in the backyard, with plenty of room. She threw my 28th birthday party there, and I’ll never forget when Ed hit the pinata and sent about 15 pounds of candy across the garden (in the darkness, no less). Molly said she was still finding packets of candy a month later.
We also have a neighborhood pub where we often hold gatherings. It’s a nice and friendly place, and it’s one of those “where everyone knows your name” kind of place.