By Wendy Carson 

Epilogue Players whisks us away to a senior living center in Upstate New York for the Indiana premiere of Paul Stroili’s rollicking tale, “A Jukebox for the Algonquin.” It is billed as “a serious comedy about sex, drugs, and rocking chairs” yet not a single rocking chair is to be had in the show.

The entire show takes place in The Algonquin Room, one of the many meeting spaces available to the residents. Being such a large place, they split into three main tribes: Indies – those in Independent Living; Asses – in Assisted Living; and Longhorns –in Long-term care, here until the end.

Dennis (Duane Mercier) holds court in the room in much the way that Dorthy Parker ran her round table in the hotel the room is named for. His regulars consist of Johnny (Onis Dean), who has a wicked sense of humor and longs for a jukebox to fill the room with real music and Annie (Wendy Brown) a spitfire who would be quite dangerous if she wasn’t mostly blind. Occasional visits from Tyler (Grant Bowen), the orderly who tries, not too well, to hide his shadier side from everyone; and Josefina (Yolanda Valdivia), the woman in charge of everything, add some bits of spice to daily life.

However, the arrival of two new people brings about all the laughs and drama that anyone could hope for. We first meet Chuck (Albert E. Lahiman III), also known as “Dust Mop Guy.” Despite his quiet demeanor, he has more than enough emotional baggage to fill all the meeting rooms. Then comes Peg (Mary DeBoer), a new Indy who becomes the member of the table they never knew was missing.

Johnny’s quest to raise money for the jukebox hits a snag and all looks lost, until Peg’s efforts to identify the plants her hippie predecessor left behind brings about a lucrative herbal solution to their financial woes. Still, it’s only 2003 and such things are still illegal.

The whole show is exquisitely cast, and co-directors Therese Burns and Amanda Greene keep things rolling along even during the few moments when life steps in and kicks the players. This is a tender, sweet, and very funny look at aging with dignity.

So, pull up a chair at the round table and see whether the gang gets to dance to the living music of actual records – or continue to suffer the sad collection of 17 CDs (three of which are copies of Frampton Comes Alive).

Ticket sales have been brisk, and there is just one week of shows left, Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 18-21, at 1849 N. Alabama St. (corner of 19^th and Alabama), downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at epilogueplayers.com.