New Neighbors

I miss Perfect Neighbor Pat. Pat bought the house next to ours about 3 years after we moved in. He bought it from Duke and Kelly, who we called the Puke and Smelly, because if it was funny in the third grade, we like it here in the Headley house. We were glad to see Puke and Smelly go, because frankly, they were a little too uppity for our neighborhood. All the houses in my neighborhood were built in 1964. The houses are all rectangles. We all have two car garages, and we all have washers and dryers in the garage. Which means most people do not park two cars in their garage, because if you do, there is not room to do laundry. But Puke parked his Suburban next to the washer and dryer, and backed it into the driveway each time Smelly needed to do a load of laundry, then returned it to the garage as soon as she finished. Sometimes three or four times a day. They really needed to get to a fancier neighborhood with utility rooms.
We couldn't have asked for a better neighbor than Pat. He was friendly, but not too friendly. He was a salesman for the radio station, and a tennis instructor at the tennis club, so he would come and go a lot. Every time we were outside together, he would say "Well, hello there!" and make a comment about the weather. That's it. He drove a BMW, which was a little too much class for our neighborhood, but we forgave him because he is single. He kept his lawn mowed. He was perfect.
We were shocked when a woman moved in with him. He was 40ish, sharp dresser, good job... we just assumed there was never going to be a Mrs. Pat. We were astonished when he moved out with the woman and put his home up for rent.
The first set of renters had small kids, loud voices and pit bulls. They were gone after a month or two. The next two guys were muffler haters. They liked to warm up their rigs for 10 to 20 minutes, and they were LOUD. Nice guys, but that got old. I was not sad to see them packing up last weekend.
Today, I have new hope. I see that a young couple is moving in. She has nerdy glasses like me, and he has long, but not too long, hair. They have a dog, but no kids.
I want them to be the kind of neighbors that bring over a box of apples from their tree. I would give them flowers or zucchini. They will roll my trash cans up to the house on Thursdays, I'll pick up their newspaper if they go out of town for the weekend.
Maybe we will be friends. Maybe they are the type of young hipsters that entertain, and they will invite us over for grilled tuna. Maybe we will discover that we have things in common, like a love of all things cycling. Perhaps we will wile away many a hot summer evening in the back yard, under a string of white lights, listening to Adult Contemporary music, drinking wine and beer and discussing nerdy things like shopping at the co-op and alternative transportation.
But I'll be satisfied if they just keep the damn grass cut.