Let me put it this way. I love First Fridays. And this month I brought my 63-year old mom (a newcomer to Phoenix) to the event, and SHE loved it.
My original plan was to quickly show her First Friday, figuring that the summer night heat and gangs of teenage hippies roaming around would cause her to want to leave after a brief glimpse. I then planned on meeting up with friends at The Roosevelt after dropping her off. Instead, she (herself a watercolor artist) was captivated by some of the interesting art we found in various galleries on Grand Ave, followed by Red Dog on 3rd Street and the street displays. Then, as I watched the time creep up to ten p.m., she became mesmerized by a punk rock band playing on the corner of 4th and Roosevelt. "So Mom, you want to go home yet?" I asked at one point. "No way. I love this music! What is this band called?" I thought I was in the Twilight Zone. And that was before some guy asked her as she walked by whether she liked Tupac.
Eventually she got her fill of hippy art and punk rock and I joined my friends at the way-too-packed Roosevelt. The point is that First Friday is the kind of place you can even bring your mom to.