It'd be easy to bitch and complain about certain aspects of the Capitol Hill Block Party. Sure, it attracts a bevy of tools who by the end of the night are barely-standing drunken douchebags. And yes, you have to put up with the poorly-scripted political pablum in between acts. Plus, in the aftermath, there's all that garbage. But in the midst of the typical festival chaos, there are plenty of things to praise about this year's block party. Here's our list:

· The weather. Not too hot, not too cold, not too sunny, and no rain. What more could you ask for a two-day music festival?

· The Mackie guys running sound for Girl Talk at the main stage. Not only did this crew have to mix sound, they also acted as security, keeping any more fans from going on the already-at-capacity stage. We saw one bandannad fool attempt to climb up and over the mixing board to get on stage, only to be tackled by a vigilant Mackie man. There was another Mackie employee whose sole job for the entire raucous DJ set was to stand next to a speaker and make sure it didn't fall over from dance vibrations. Above and beyond.

· The bar staff at Vermillion, who ran an efficient yet friendly business, where the drinks were free-flowing and the bathrooms were clean.

· Christine Gregoire, who managed not to mess up Vampire Weekend's name while making the band's introduction. We were cringing in anticipation of Da Guv announcing Friday night's final act as "Vampire's Weekend" or "Dracula Holiday" or "Paul Simon," but Gregoire (with her daughter in tow) kept her remarks brief and got the band's name right even without a teleprompter.

· The polite and gracious crowd at Fleet Foxes. There were silver-haired men, cute babies, and everyone in between. They kept the talking down and courteously took in Robin Pecknold's band in all their harmonious glory. Civil bearded men of Seattle, we salute you.

· The playful, energetic, and dance-happy set from Chromeo, which included leggy keyboards, LCD lights, and hands in the air all down Pike Street.

· Velella Velella singer Andrew Means, who made a last-minute emergency drive to Fremont for some gear and still made it back to Capitol Hill with time to spare before the band (now featuring Bethany Petersen and Johanna Kunin) delivered an ass-shaking funk set at King Cobra. Way to motor, dude.

See you next year, CHBP.