“And the song was written from a perspective of hope. And hope, at the end of the day, connects us all, no matter how different we are.”

“She sounds like an Obama girl,” Adelle announced with more than a hint of disdain after Jon Stewart brought the Best Song co-winner back onstage to give her heartfelt acceptance speech.

Roger Hardy was tempted to tell his neighbor to shut up since he didn’t want his and Doug’s annual Oscar party to turn into a political bitchfest, but before he could open his mouth, eighteen-year-old Maggie Montenegro responded with: “What’s wrong with that?”

Adelle’s bright red lips quivered for only a few awkward moments as she adjusted her Hillary for President button on her blouse and said: “Nothing, dear, nothing at all.”

He then smiled at Fosse Avenue’s most vocal Clinton supporter and breathed a sigh of relief as she praised the lasagna he’d made for his guests to devour during the telecast. Crisis averted. No bitter war of words between opposing factions would be forthcoming for the rest of the evening—although many would continue to vehemently object to Tilda Swinton’s dark velvet disaster of a dress.

Overall, Roger was quite pleased with the party, which gave their new neighbors, Seth and Adam, an opportunity to meet a few more residents of the street:

Sixty-four-year-old Father Flanagan, whose Church of the Holy Spirit is one of two places of worship at the beginning of the block (the other is a Romanian Pentecostal Church), enjoys any cocktail with a cherry, adores Rosalind Russell in Auntie Mame, and still laments the fact that Angela Lansbury didn’t get to play her in the movie musical.

Russell Vandercar, age thirty-five, inherited the double lot at 4931-4935 North Fosse from his late grandmother. He enjoys being a girl every Monday night at Circuit on Halsted, calling out the numbers for Disco Bingo as Miss Amanda Playwith (“My stage name,” he told an excited Seth, who loves the game).

Russell currently rents out his small guesthouse to a young gay couple—Jason and Tucker—a bartender at Sidetrack and an actor in Tony n’ Tina’s Wedding, respectively (“Oh God, is that still running?” Roger’s lover, Doug, was overheard saying before being admonished—“You be nice”—by his significant other). Neither of the two boys nor Edna Ice, the old ballsy battleaxe who once confessed to Roger that she hadn’t seen a decent flick since The Sound of Music, attended the party.

nfortunately, Max and Donald McDermott, the beautiful biracial couple with the talented eight-year-old daughter (“Mimi’s a singing, dancing sensation,” according to Adelle Frish, who offered this opinion while slicing into Tippi Henshaw’s German chocolate cake), were out of town visiting Donald’s parents in Cincinnati. They live at the end of the dead-end street next to the river—and across from the construction site, where a millionaire is currently building a mansion (“A hideous eyesore upon our charming little block,” Adelle again added her two cents worth).

Mrs. Maria Montenegro and her daughter, Maggie, who live at 4948, attended the Oscar festivities with a pan of Maria’s delicious tamales and a bottle of red wine, which were both quickly consumed.

Of course, Adelle Frish would never miss a party—and Tippi Henshaw and her son, Billy, also showed up—but Kirby and Claire Cavanaugh, Roger’s next-door neighbors, were unable to attend due to previous dinner plans with friends. So today he has invited Seth to accompany him to the couple’s home to meet them—and to deliver a belated baby shower gift to Claire, who is expecting twins in April.

“What was she thinking? Bringing up that Saturday Night Live sketch?”

“Do you ever remember your dreams?”

Their conversation about last night’s Democratic debate suddenly takes an unexpected turn as Seth changes the subject.

“No, I never remember my dreams. Once I wake up, they’re gone,” Roger replies.

“You’re lucky. I had a really weird one last night,” the young man confesses as they walk up the Cavanaughs’ front steps. “In it Adam and I went to this fancy restaurant, but no one came to take our order so we finally just left and got in this cab and Amanda from Ugly Betty—we love her—well, she was now with us—in the cab, which suddenly stopped, and the driver—this sweet old black lady—gave us french fries in two separate containers. Adam’s fries were all nice and crispy, while mine were all soggy and gross. Well, the lady was very apologetic—and that’s when the phone rang and woke me up—a guy from Columbia House, wanting to give me a great DVD offer. Do you think it means he’s cheating on me?”

“Who? The Columbia House guy?”

“No—Adam. I know it sounds crazy, but the dream just made me think that he’s
. . .”

“Cheating on you?” (this interpretation of the peculiar dream has surprised Mr. Hardy to say the least).

Seth nods and tears appear on the verge of falling down his face until Roger asks: “With who? Amanda or the old lady?”

The troubled young man can only smile and shrug at this bizarre inquiry, which at least keeps his emotions from flowing: “I’m sorry, you must think I’m a complete psycho.”

“No, not at all,” Roger says, although his neighbor obviously needs to talk to someone—perhaps a doctor—like Doug, who has never cheated on him (not that he is aware of) and who only gets crabby whenever he’s forced to watch films that suck (like Birth with Nicole Kidman, which Roger actually found kind of interesting—but Doug definitely did not).

Before he can offer any more comforting words, the Cavanaughs’ door opens and a tall, dark and very handsome man in a white 100% cotton terry bathrobe flashes a toothy grin and points a half-empty bottle of Corona at them.

“Hey, boys, what’s shakin’?”

Both their eyes immediately glance down as his robe falls open and the obvious—and quite lengthy—answer to his question stares them right in the face. Seth then bursts into tears, causing Roger to silently declare this moment of swinging moods and genitalia one of the most awkward he’s every experienced in his life.

To be continued . . .

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