This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Our neighbor Stacy Hemingway looked flustered. We called her Stacy Hem and Haw because that's what she did best. She had volunteered to host a Fourth of July cookout, but with only a week to go, she was completely unprepared and complaining about having too much to do. I reached into my cooler to pull out a few ice-cold Leinenkugel's Summer Shandy beer and passed them around to the impromptu gathering of neighbors milling about on my driveway. I grinned as a few of our neighbors rolled their eyes at Stacy's outburst. "I'll take care of the dogs and music," I offered. My wife Anita turned towards me with a glance that after 8 years of marriage I immediately understood to mean, "Have you lost your mind? This isn't even our party. Grilling for a 100 plus?! You're going to DJ?" I offered up a smile, signaling that I would fill her in once everyone had left. I proceeded to ask Stacy rapid-fire questions about the party, hoping to prompt her into a concrete plan. As dusk began to fall, the neighbors dissipated, satisfied that the cookout would be a success - especially since everyone had taken my lead and volunteered to assist in some manner...