Have you heard about this?

National Night Out is celebrated, if it is, on the first Tuesday in August. It’s supposed to draw neighbors together, to mingle with each other and with local police, and for everyone to chow down and have a good time.My town, Englewood (pop. 34,100), has a lovely program whereby people who organize a block party can apply for a grant of up to $500 to reimburse them for expenses.To my way of thinking, that’s a great use of tax dollars.Why?Because first off, the people on the block have to organize and stage the thing themselves. They have to do the work, buy the food.Only after the party comes off, everyone happy, can we ask City Hall, “Hey, could you help us out with this? It was great!”I am sure cops agree.How am I so sure? I talked to some cops.Yet this is what we have heard rich Republicans bitching about daily for years:“They’re sucking off the public tit!”“They’re takers, not givers!”and lately: “They’re communists!”Not on my block. Our party was organized by neighbor Neil, who kicked it off, and Gina and Tito, who did most of the cooking.They set up long tables in the street — blocked to traffic from 5 to 9 p.m. — and other neighbors brought melons and salsa and chips and whatnot. And friendly dogs played together.Tito cooked up about half a cow worth of spicy chicken in a giant wok a meter in diameter, with plenty of cumin — Why, O why, do I love cumin? And Gina set up two long tables of salads and fruit and other healthy things.Cops in uniforms mingled, answering questions and being the brunt of jokes, some of them mine.It reminded us that cops are our neighbors. They live here and our kids go to the same schools: We share a lot of things with cops, besides Tito’s delicious tacos.I’ve been a newspaper reporter and editor for 40 years, and in all that time, I never met a police chief I didn’t like. Bad street cops? Sure, I’ve met a lot of them, especially in Mexico. But even in Mexico I liked the police chiefs.Takes a lot of disparate talents to be a police chief.One of my top two police chiefs, in — never mind where it was — told me he told his troops every day at their morning meeting: “I want you to have as many friendly contacts out there today as enforcements.”So — what do you think? — the folks in that town liked their cops. They trusted them.I haven’t liked Chicago cops since 1968. Always pulling me over for the crime of driving with long hair. Yanking me outa my car.I haven’t liked Chicago since not only those beatings, but because when I was freelancing on the road, 35 years ago, I strode up to a crosswalk on State Street in Chicago, with about 10 other guys and gals behind me, waiting for the red light to change. I turned to the guy on my right, handsome black guy wearing a suit. I asked him some stupid question, designed to get a laugh.He looked at me like, “Hey, man: Don’t you know the rules?”I’ll never move back to Chicago. Far as I’m concerned, their National Night Out sponsors on the South Side might ask the government to pay for the ammo.But here in Englewood Tuesday, the city sent half a dozen cops to our block party, to mingle and munch down, for which thanks, City Council!I like Englewood cops, and here’s why. Just after I moved here, I drove my two big dogs before sunrise one day to the off-leash dog park, which has a stream running through it — three-mile walk every morning, might keep an old man in shape.But one day on the way to the dog park I rolled through a Stop sign, and a cop hit his lights and pulled me over. Still dark, no one else out on the streets yet.“Do you know why I pulled you over, Sir?”“Yessir,” I said, handing him my driver’s license.He didn’t go back to his cruiser to check it, or even take it.“Sir?” he said. “A lot of children live on these blocks, and there’s a school bus stop.” He pointed at the Bus Stop sign. “You have to stop at the Stop sign, Sir, not just slow down.”“Yes, Sir. I understand.”“Can you imagine making those parents unhappy if you ran over their little girl, Sir?”“No, Sir, I cannot. I’m sorry, Sir.”“Well,” he scratched my big dog Cleo’s ears: she’d stuck her head out the back window, then Titus scooted over to get some and the officer scratched him too.The officer handed me his card without a word, with his phone number and all, with a look that said: “Hey, I’m here to help.”What a cop.That’s why I’m lucky. I live in a town with its head screwed on, tryna live in peace with everyone.Big problem with politics as we wage it today is that it’s based on division, and the Republican quasi-idea that how dare your neighbor, who is not you, not be you? And how dare half of the people in the country not think like me?And no, I ain’t writing this to suck up to the municipal powers that be. I said municipal instead of city because I want you to admire my vocabulary, suckas.Well, t’other night at our block party, I shook hands with our mayor, and told him, “Hey, man, glad to meetcha. I voted for you.”“Thank you.”“I voted for you ‘cause Gina gave me five dollars to vote for you.”The mayor couldn’t believe I’d said it, or Gina or the two cops who heard me say it, because it was an obvious lie. Then all of us laughed.Subscribe to our free newslettersOur weekly newsletter Closing Arguments offers the latest about ongoing trials, major litigation and rulings in courthouses around the U.S. and the world, while the monthly Under the Lights dishes the legal dirt from Hollywood, sports, Big Tech and the arts.Additional Reads