Dreams in October

A quiet morning. I sleep so slightly now, awakening to a dull ache in the right hip, or someone's alarm, or the jarring of bodies plodding around. Today I lingered in the sleep one has when one is young - blissful unconsciousness. The long blurry state before awakening, the pleasant dream pulling me back into sweet slumber, a bit of me following the mind's story moments longer.

Not awakening to worry - a tick list of family members and their precarious states flashing into my head. One by one - the rebooting, the reloading, of the caregiver's brain's computer.

Today, though, the old sleep. The sun can not march brightly through the the sky today. Sol veiled in heavy clouds, time is suspended so - it could be any time on the clock with the muted outdoor light, a limbo making the moment stand still. I'm a superhero moving around in a time freeze. I savor this.

When I had very young children, my sleep was yanked away from me. I rose, night after night, to care for them. It was wonderful, precious, to feed them, talk to them, sing them to sleep, lullaby and rock them.

I'm so grateful I could do that.

Now there are no young children. Just sore muscles, a too-full mind, a snoring, uncomfortable bed partner. The gifts of old age and a long life. Grateful I am also for all of these.

But last night - a quiet house. Everyone was away. I find those hidden corners of my mind that usually elude me. Sweet old memories - me on my childhood bicycle, peddling freely. The big old oak tree platform and swing my father built. Lying in green grass and clover fields - looking for the four-leaves as the big purple heads attracted bumblebees. Chasing, or just watching, butterflies. Trying to catch frogs in a pond full of duck weed. Free moments.

Yet, if I stayed in this period of rest, my body would soften, my heart atrophy, my health decline. So I must push myself tomorrow. Stress it, take on the earthly organisms' flight or fright, or fight. My redefinition.

Let me have this moment today, dear universe. I bargain with you, no shame intended, in the age-old way people bargained with God. I won't take you there - you've done it. You know what I mean.

So grateful, so happy, so blessed. It's not my line, but this is now, this is the eternal life. And it is sweet.

The Secrets, the Shame, of Sexual Assault

This is a very different turn for me: the theme of, the tone, and what I enjoy writing about in this blog. But with the contemporary state of politics in our country, the headlines, current events, and our collective mood, I have to add this to the conversation.

I thought things had changed a lot since the time I grew up in the heady '60's and '70's in the Midwestern United States. I think most of us young girls weren't told much about sex, and how we could be objectified, abused, molested, and/or be taken advantage of quite quickly when we stepped out into the world. Most men and boys were good, but it takes only one bad apple to do a lot of damage.

A girl learned quickly if she was experimenting with alcohol, her chances of suffering an attempted sexual assault went up drastically. She was almost "fair pickings." Illegal drug use was widespread, and a common trick was for an older guy to tempt young girls with trying marijuana or some harder drug, then take advantage of a girl while her defenses were down and she was under the influence. This worked well on another level - the girl was less likely to report what happened to a parent or other adult because it made her seem to them like a 'bad girl' for trying drugs. So she probably said nothing in shame.

Often the mistreatment could be much more blatant. Lower on the scale could be when women were 'cat-called', or whistled at, in public. I think often this is more than a show of sexual attraction on the part of a male - it's a power thing over women. A way of dehumanizing, marginalizing, disrespecting. Or the abuse is actually physical. Groping, pinching bottoms in crowds, bars, public places. A thrill, a way of 'getting away with' something. An act to remember and brag about later.

Then there's the taking surreptitious photos or videos of women. Looking through windows, following them. Peeping Toms. Why aren't there Peeping Tinas? So many women have stories. I remember in college there was a common practice at parties of young men making punch bowls full of Everclear alcohol and Koolaid or juice, for the explicit purpose of getting young women intoxicated. Men would look out for each other, and if a guy led a drunk girl up to a secluded bedroom, said guy's friends would stay out of the way and keep the coast clear for him to proceed with an assault.

Then there are stories of Bill Cosby, of all admired and respected people, allegedly drugging dozens of women in order to more easily assault them. Domestic violence exists at incredible levels. In 2017, the CDC reported that more than half of all female homicide victims were killed in connection to intimate partner violence. Black and indigenous women face the highest rates of homicide of all women in the U.S. Hispanic women who are killed, were the most likely to be murdered as the result of partner violence. It's this that accounts for 61 percent of female Hispanic homicides in this country.

How many of us have stories from our own lives, about the women around us? We all know somebody. Someone who was assaulted on a date, accosted by a family member, a trusted family friend or authority figure. A woman close to me, who is now in the military, was severely beaten by a boyfriend who, out of his normal character, took some cocaine and went into a drug-fueled rage. She barely escaped with her life. She's a brave survivor, but she's never been the same.

I write all this to say: if a women comes forward with a story, give her a moment. Don't assume she has an ulterior motive. The decks are stacked against her. There's no joy, no payoff, in sharing this painful information. Listen to her. Give her the floor. Hear her, and allow her to talk. It's the least we can do.

Average White Band Rocks the Sweetwater Performance Pavilion

People from all walks of life, of all sizes and colors came together on a soft, moonlight night recently to be charmed by the soulful stylings of the world renowned Average White Band. "Pick up the Pieces" is a familiar, chart-topping soul and jazz song from this 1970's band, AWB. Alan Gorrie and Onnie McIntyre are still in the band, which tightly plays a combination of funk, dance music, rhythm & blues, and rock. They started in 1972, with several members coming from the University of Dundee, Scotland. 46 years after their formation, band members have come and gone, but the group is still together and are happily playing venues.

Trumpets, saxophone, percussion, guitar and great vocals come together for a seamless meld. Original members in Dundee, Scotland played venues here and there, but finally gelled in London after a Traffic concert. Jamming together, a friend remarked, " they're just too much (or too good) for the average white man." This was the origin of their name, legend says.

At the concert at Sweetwater mid-August, they were graced by brilliant vocalist Brent Carter (from Tower of Power) and percussionist Rocky Bryant. Horn players Fred Vigdor and Cliff Lyons help make up the band's impressive lineup. At Sweetwater, the crowd could not stay in their seats and were so moved to dance in place and in the aisles.

"Walk on By" was one of their ballads that got the crowd to sing, as did "School Boy Crush." Another crowd pleaser was "Put it Where You Want It," and people in Fort Wayne seemed to know all the words. The sound system at Sweetwater is state-of-the-art, so audiences members could hear band members' words distinctly. "A Love of Your Own" also got lots of vocal "back-at-yous" from the crowd. They responded so brightly to this band they seemed to unabashedly adore.

The outdoor performance pavilion at Sweetwater opened in August of 2017. 24,000 square feet of venue includes the canopy, free parking, and amazingly clean, air-conditioned restroom trailers. In a photo above, one can see a fire truck converted to a Whip and Chill food truck. Other food trucks that night offered pulled pork barbecue, Thai food, crab cakes and more.

The sound system at this venue is truly impressive. Although chairs are folding, apparently it allows for some versatility with room for 2200 seated or 3500 standing audience members. Beer and wine were also available for purchase inside the venue.

Sweetwater itself is, of course, the Fort Wayne business that is one of the largest US dealers in musical equipment. They sell instruments, music technology, and have a beautiful, state-of-the-art campus in Fort Wayne. With 1200 employees, the company started as a remote recording studio out of the founder's VW microbus. Now there's a 44-acre corporate campus, warehouse and retail store on site. The company headquarters is a tourist destination in town, with features such as a lovely cafeteria, hair salon, indoor theater, recording booths and shop. Their website is a resource for upcoming acts and online ordering for musical equipment. Sweetwater itself is a shining star in the mix of what's great about humble Fort Wayne, Indiana.

Lighten Up and Plan a Garage Sale, Yard Sale, or Estate Sale. What are the Trends?

I just had good success conducting a garage sale. I'm happy about it, because I've had poor luck in the past. I've had sales where very few people showed, and those who did were not greatly interested in buying what we had.

So what was different this time? I thought I would take the time here to share what I have learned.

*Advertising has changed. No longer do many of us read all those black and white newspapers. Maybe it's a sad change, but true. I had some help advertising online for this sale. My associates knew which websites to use, and only had to sign up for them a day or two beforehand. They also took photos of some of the catchier items for sale to post with the information. We could have advertised for a week or two ahead, but the thought was that people would show up ahead of time, ring the doorbell, interrupting us while we were still bringing things out and pricing them. I don't think I'll name websites here, but do a little research online in your area to find the popular ones that promote garage sales.

*Marketing ideas: If you have a lot of items, consider calling it an estate sale instead of a yard or garage sale. That seems to draw bigger crowds. I was also surprised that strategically placing colorful, directional signs on streets leading into the neighborhood brought in a lot of impulse shoppers who might have been in the area for other reasons. We might have just gotten lucky, but it worked.

*Supplies: Have extra boxes and bags to send items home with folks. Plan ahead with a cash box or money zippered bag, and plenty of change. Lots of ones and a few fives will be important. You will need some coins also, or you'll waste a bunch of time searching for some when you could be selling. Tables or surfaces are also important. You can even make them with boards and saw horses. Borrow them from neighbors, churches and community organizations. Folding card tables, garage shelving, benches, picnic tables - whatever you can come up with will do.

*So that you don't have to sticker every item, create $1, $2, $3 etc. tables with signs. People also seem interested in gazing over these - something about it draws the eye. Also, I recommend on your last day, slash these prices on your signage to 1/2 price or less. Let people know who come on early days you will be reducing prices drastically the last few hours.

*I was surprised what happened to sell well. Garden supplies, yard chemicals, paint - stuff you can't put in the trash, but people actually want. Landscaping lights, hoses, and old toys went really well. Grandparents were buying things for visiting grandkids. Old stereo sets sold, but music itself did not sell well. Maybe on a different day, it would have. People bought books and record albums less to actually use, but more for decorating their AirBNB houses. People wanted very old greeting cards and costume jewelry we didn't have. Old clothes and purses didn't sell well, but women's shoes surprisingly did - especially if they were barely used.

*Old patio furniture sold - even stuff that had to be repaired. A couple of big, old, out-of-style chairs and bar stools sold well. We only had a couple of old stuffed chairs that didn't go. Old fishing supplies, candles, photography tripods and projector screens were popular with teachers. Old sleeping bags and camping items went - I was surprised about that.

*What didn't sell well: glassware. We had tons of nice vases and drinking glasses, but they barely moved. Cooking and kitchen ware didn't go very well either, except for large covered cake carriers and large Tupperware transporting stuff, which were quite popular. Christmas stuff didn't really move, except for rolls of wrapping paper. Maybe selling at a different time of year would help with that. Some Halloween and other decorations sold, but a lot of it got put on the donation trailer at the end. People didn't really seem to want nice coffee table books, but we decided to hang onto them for now. Some good items can be sold online later if a person has the time and inclination to do so. Our electronic organ from the 70's, a large, heavy item that got a lot of use years ago, brought no interested parties and was given away. We had several larger, older (but working) televisions, and nobody wanted them. I suspected they wouldn't.

When it was all said and done, we paid for some young, strong folks to bring a trailer and haul off all the leftovers to a charitable donation site. We made a few hundred dollars at the sale, and we can get a small tax write off for the stuff we had hauled away. I hope a few of the customers found a few treasures, and will enjoy them for now. I'm happy we bothered to do the sale, and it's a weight off one's mind to get clutter and extraneous junk out of the way. Besides, you'll find stuff that was hidden by all the other stuff! You find new treasures behind the old treasures. And you'll take a nostalgic trip down memory lane one more bittersweet time. Good luck to you on your next sale! You'll be surprised what people will want.

Dogs are the New Kids

I'm always amazed how capriciously humans will take on dogs as pets. Experienced dog owners aside, I wonder how many people realize the life-long (in dog years) commitment they are making. Dogs require a tremendous expense of time, resources and money. Needing to be walked, let out to pee, and the cleaning up of their poop is just the beginning.

Kids see puppies and think they are so cute, so the youngsters beg and whine, and parents relent. Then parents are stuck paying vet bills, medical bills after bites, and the expenses of damaged property. Dogs are like having kids, if one takes the task seriously. The newness wears off, and the dogs are neglected. They require tons of training, exercise, affection and attention. People leave them home all day, and the dogs are bored and lonely. I wonder how many people realize what they are getting into.

Yet dogs can be great companions and give us much joy. My childhood dog was Scout, a pug. He was so loyal, he would march behind my father as he push-mowed the yard, Scout following six feet behind, track after track. Once in his old age and basically blind, Scout showed up at my father's car dealership, making his way down the hall to Dad's office. It was if he had followed Dad's scent there.

Someone close to me tells the story of Solovar and Tab. Tab was a golden retriever that lost a leg chasing a train. You see him in the photo above, the front leg missing. He lead a long and rewarding life. Solovar, slender above, became chubby. Actually, this dog isn't Solovar - it looks like a coon hound. But Solovar the beagle and Tab were great friends. Tab had a knack for spotting and chasing squirrels. Solovar was somewhat clueless at this, but made up in enthusiasm what he lacked in skill. Tab would jump up from a leisurely respite, barking, and chase a squirrel across a yard and up a tree. Solovar, not seeing the squirrel but bent on the chase just the same, would follow close behind, also barking, and then run full speed into the stopped Tab. Tab would be pointing out the rodent and Solovar would run full speed into him, bowling them both over like big balls of fur.

We owned several dogs as adults - I think three were Chesapeake Bay retrievers. Beautiful, protective, serious about hunting, they loved to swim and fetch for hours. These dogs loved having a job to do. But the dog I owned with the most character was Zack, a Chocolate Lab. The man we got him from had named him "skeezics." I think this was his abbreviation for "having the runs." Zack was the runt of the litter, and soon most of my possessions, from ice chests to skis to shoes to frisbees, retained the teeth marks left by him.

Zack must have been spoiled by us (with love), because he acted like and thought he was human. I would wake up in the morning to find him in the bed on his back with his head up on a pillow. He was charming in whimsical ways. He would open a sliding screen door with a quick flick of his nose. He would squeal like a baby pig with joy when he hadn't seen us in a while. One of my fondest memories was of the time he found a dried dead fish by a desert lake. He was so happy about that, he was beside himself. He dashed past me again and again at breakneck speeds with that fish in his mouth, like a bolt of lightning. I don't know how we ever got it away from him.

The worst thing about dogs is, they die before we do. It's heartbreaking. I don't handle it well. It leaves a huge hole. But I'll think fondly back about what we called Zack's 'augering in,' - burrowing his nose and one shoulder into the carpet, hind end hiked up into the air. Zack was the greatest. I'll never forget him.

Byler Lane Winery is the New Chic Spot north of Leo

Just a short drive from either Auburn, Indiana, or Leo-Cedarville will spirit you to Byler Lane Winery, on County Road 35. In existence since 2016, the winery features impressive seating areas, both inside and out. Inside is beautiful reclaimed and refinished barn wood which panels the walls, regular tables and high-tops. There are also cozy, intimate corner couches and overstuffed chairs. Outside are fire pit areas, more couches and tables, cornhole frames and a giant jenga game. It's comfortable, spacious, and lovely inside and out. It's set back off a quiet country road, creating a peaceful ambiance.

Large windows show off distillery tanks in the back buildings where various wines are aged. No tours were available the Friday night we were there, but perhaps if you called ahead, you could arrange a guided walk-about for your group. A free tasting of five wines was offered. Featured were several sweet whites, dry whites, dessert wines, sweet reds, and dry reds. Some of their grapes were grown on site. For many of the better wines, grapes were imported elsewhere locally, regionally, and even across the country. New York State, California, and Chilean grapes all contribute to some of their better wines.

According to the facility's website, the winery is owned by members of the Byler and Lane families. Wine making started as a hobby in one of the owner's basements. JR originally had a concrete shop on the property. Workers used wood salvaged from four local barns to create tables, interiors, and exterior woodwork. A lovely stone fireplace is a highlight of the site.

Lots of scheduled activities are planned for the summer. Every weekend features live music groups and food trucks. Call the winery at 260-920-4377 for more information, or look for their Facebook page for descriptions of specific food vendors and musicians. The winery is closed Mondays, but it opens at noon the rest of the week. They close Sunday at 5 p.m., and are open until 7 or 8 p.m. the other days.

Guests must be age 18 and older. There isn't much food available when the catering trucks aren't there, but they do have some limited cheese and meat trays, chocolates, Coke products, and coffee for purchase. There's a cute pond with a covered picnic area, but signs announcing "no fishing, no swimming" seem a bit stand-offish. Oh well, it's their house, their rules! I suppose a little decorum is in order. They do claim to release new wines all the time, and promote seasonal favorites. I'm pretty sure I saw one of those wine-slushy machines behind the bar for those so inclined to drink that sort of thing.

I'm glad wineries are springing up in new places, and I'm really glad to see this one such a short distance from Leo, Indiana. One of my favorite things was the inside ceiling paneling - it must have been reclaimed tin roofing. It looked fabulous! Check it out soon for yourself.

Time to Talk about Bullying

I've found myself thinking about bullying over the past few days.  I heard a discussion about it on the radio. The person speaking said how vividly most of us remember being bullied, probably much more so than the person doing the bullying.  I don't know if that is true, but perhaps in many cases that is so.

I do remember some specific incidences from my past.  I don't think I ever experienced really severe treatment, so I feel for anyone who was treated much more cruelly than I was.  It happens all the time.  Humans can be really mean to one another.  It's learned behavior, I suppose.  I don't imagine in most cases it's something that arises from within.

Once when I was in high school, I started dating a boy a few years older than me.  I really didn't know him or the people he ran around with that well.  He had an ex-girlfriend; a very pretty, popular girl.  I guess she wasn't really over him, but I didn't know that.  Apparently she and her friends were out riding around in a car, and decided to come to my house and egg my car.  They were bold - the car was sitting in our carport, and they came right up and egged the car.  I think they even opened car doors and threw some eggs inside.  One of the problems about this was that it wasn't really my car - it was my mom's car that I just got to drive sometimes.  I wonder if they still think what they did was funny, or did they grow up and regret that?  I don't know.  I don't want to be friends with any of them now.  I never treated anyone like that.

I remember what was called "high school initiation" in my town. It was hazing.  They probably don't do that anymore, but it was very common in the 1970s.  Someone even called my mom and got permission to take me.  She told me later she said 'yes' because she thought the consequences might be worse for me at school, had she refused.

This was another opportunity for bullying. It was done in a group.  They took us to a public, city park. I don't remember everything, but I was made to do some embarrassing stuff.  They put oil, maybe even motor oil, in my hair. It was really hard to wash it out. Also in my hair - peanut butter, maybe gum too. The upperclass-women (seniors?) made some of the girls eat cat food and other gross stuff.  We were yelled at a lot, and made to lie on the ground and walk in compromising, uncomfortable positions around the town square.  I was amazed with how aggressive some of our tormentors were, and how some of them really got into the whole thing.  I don't really understand the point of all this to this day.  When my turn came to be one of the "initiators" to the younger girls, I refused to take part.  It probably was also another reason I never chose to join a sorority in college.  That whole 'group or crowd mentality' thing scares me to this day.

What is bullying really about?  I'm making up my own theories here.  I do believe in some cases it's about jealousy.  I have a lot of faults, but I'm not really a naturally jealous person. I'm grateful for that.   In other cases, I think it's a power play, a way to establish dominance.  That is so animalistic, like horses trying to establish a pecking order.  We are not so far removed from the animal kingdom as we would like to think we are.  Maybe this is really one good point of the value of church, morality or religion, if we can get people to really think and treat others as we would like to be treated.
 
It still happens.  Sometimes it's very subtle.  I'm laughed at, trivialized, mimimized sometimes by members of my adult friend group.  Patronized? They would deny it.  It's mind games.  I try to call it out.  People can't say directly what is really bothering them or they don't even really know, so they abuse others and take out their frustrations that way.  It all has to leak out in some way.   It's basic physics - the natural laws of the universe.

As an adult, I've taken a dance class with my teenage daughter. Unexpectedly, we were also bullied there. I guess a mother and daughter dancing together was such an anomaly, we were fair pickings for some rough treatment. Stares and "bird-dogging" came our way.  So infantile, yet hurtful.  It's hard to always keep up a thick skin.

Let us be kind. Let us be gentle. Let us say we are sorry when we have transgressed. Let us all play our parts to stop the cycles of bullying, ostracizing, intimidation, mocking, teasing, and all those things that can send us down that very dark road; which may lead, way too soon, to mayhem and violence. Peace be with you.

Chicago, the Musical, at the Embassy Theatre in Fort Wayne made Valentine's Day Special

It's been days since we saw the musical Chicago, and we're still singing the songs from it. Who can resist "Cell Block Tango", in which the six female jailbirds line up their cane chairs and seductively sing, "he had it coming"? The libretto is so good, one ends up rooting for the murderesses. After the stories that each lady tells in her part of the song, you know their guys were just asking for it. The victims had it coming and these ladies snapped!

Chicago is a light-hearted look at the heady times of an all-American era gone by. The Jazz Age, with liquor, loose morals, and guns ablaze, is all glamorized. Dripping with sensuous choreography by the late Bob Fosse and his protégé, Ann Reinking, Chicago is luscious, lascivious, sentimental, and thought-provoking. The Broadway-style play is tons better than the movie version - of course, because it was written for the stage.

In the glorious Embassy Theatre in downtown Fort Wayne, time stands still. Two nights of the traveling production of this show seems to have sold out. It's such a joy to gaze around at the old touches restored in the theater: the art deco lighting and painted molding, plush fabrics, charming old bathrooms and fixtures. See it while you can, people - classic theatres such as this won't be around forever.

Jennifer Fouche gave a thrilling rendition of the song "When you're Good to Mama" in the role of Matron Morton. Her range, her gutteral power, her scat and vocalizing were fascinating. She held the crowd in the palm of her hand. Queen Latifa played this role wonderfully in the popular movie, but she didn't have the chops of this actress. Kudos, Miss Fouche. You rocked it.

Give 'em the old "Razzle Dazzle" was performed with great polish by the dapper Brent Barrett. I felt as though I could see his blue eyes sparkling and his white teeth glinting from Row R, more than 20 rows back. (Orchestra seats are numbered separately). I remembered how fun it was to see Richard Gere tap dance during this song in the movie version. If you like him, Q. Latifa, Renee Zellweger, and Catherine Zeta-Jones, you might want to find this film on Netflix, Redbox or your cable or satellite provider.

One of my new favorite numbers is the song "Mister Cellophane." Performed brilliantly in the film version by John C. Reilly, the versatile, chameleon-like yet underrated actor, this number is a nod to the awkward, introverted, not-picture-perfect version of so many of us in modern society who feel outcast and isolated. Reilly was buff and fit in the movie version, although he was covered in dust, hole-y gloves and oversized shoes to make him look more like a sad clown/bum/slob/working man (the character is a mechanic in the role). In the Fort Wayne production, Roxy's husband is played by Paul Vogt, who brings much nuance to the part. Unapologetically large and heavy, his bulk brings great meaning to the lyrics of this song. How can the largest amongst us in society pass by us so invisibly? How can someone so huge move around as if he doesn't exist? Obesity is a current national health crisis, yet many of the so-called obese go through their days ostracized. I love when Amos pulls on his white gloves and seemingly dances with his jazz hands in dark lighting, vaudeville style. So all-American, so poignant and so brilliant.

Needless to say, I loved Chicago, and how scenes changed on the nearly bare stage without the need for lots of props and sets. The orchestra sat in a band stand on the stage, and so was part of the show. The Embassy does a great job with concessions. Lots of snacks and drinks are available, including alcohol (maximum two drinks per customer). There are plenty of lines set up, which minimizes waiting. If you have a chance to see a show there, don't miss out. The Embassy is trending in Fort Wayne, and deservedly so, after all the effort and renovation that has gone into it. For us, it was truly a Valentine's Day to remember.

Pembroke Bakery and Cafe at 300 E Main has Tasty Vegan and Kosher-friendly Options

In the beautiful Auer Center across from the Fort Wayne Museum of Art is the sweet and savory Pembroke Bakery and Cafe. This center houses many important organizations, including Fort Wayne Trails, The Fort Wayne Ballet, Artlink Art Gallery, and the impressive ArtsLab theater.

It's so nice to see an independent cafe in this location. A lovely blue sky mural with clouds graces one wall, and sunny yellow paint adorns another. The cafe is open 10 or 11 - 8 Tuesday through Friday, 9 - 6 Saturday, and noon - 5 Sunday. Many items are vegan, gluten free, and/or kosher. They do include "carnivore" fare and lots of sweets, treats, and sodas.

There are hand rolled, kettle boiled bagels, large cinnamon rolls, brownies, cookies and doughnuts. Daily lunch specials are posted on Facebook. They also offer bakery gift baskets and pastry boxes which require 24-hour notice when ordering. Also available for pickup are sheet cakes and spinach quiche.

The cluck sandwich is a house made chickpea and wheat cutlet with lettuce, tomatoes, and vegan mayo on a house-made bun. It's a meaty, juicy, crunchy way of feeling indulgent and health-conscious at the same time. The Roman pizza is a flatbread with vegan tofu sausage, white bean and garlic purée, and a tomato-basil relish.

I had a vegan Rueben sandwich with traditional pickled cabbage and a non-dairy cheese. They were out of the homemade Thousand Island Dressing (which I missed), but their homemade mayo was pleasing enough. My dining companions enjoyed a hearty vegetable soup with tons of different veggies, and one had a gluten-free brownie. Delish!

Pembroke uses soy-free vegan margarine and sustainably harvested palm oil. They are proud to support local farmers whenever possible, and believe in fresh, fair, and sustainable practices at all times. Next time I'm going back to try some of their coffee.

Faustus by Shakespearemachine

There is a beautiful three-sided stage in the multi-purpose arts building across from the Fort Wayne Museum of Art. It also contains gallery space, the offices of Fort Wayne Trails, and a coffee shop. It's next door to the Park Place Building (on the other corner of Barr Street and Main).

In the photo above, I reveal just our heads, because the selfie is not important - but, the brilliant acting by the Shakespearemachine company, is.

Faustus is the story of a German genius who makes a deal with the devil. Faustus is bored with the limits of his academic studies and wants to learn about magic and necromancy (black magic). He urges his assistant, Wagner, to conjure and bring out dark spirits. Eventually, the servant of Lucifer, named Mephistophilis, is brought before him. Faustus signs a deal with the devil for him to be bound to Mephistophilis for twenty-four long years. For this, he receives unlimited power. He has second thoughts, but the temptation of jewels, riches, and other luxuries intoxicate him, and prolong his struggle with good versus evil. He indulges himself and goes on a twenty-four year reign of terror; binging, sexing, and otherwise indulging in self-destructive behavior.

Our local cast put on an amazing performance. Chase Francis was absolutely transformed into his role of Faustus. He memorized an amazing cadre of lines, and stumbled not a single moment. Voice wonderful, presence electric, his brilliant physicality was unmatched. The perfect antagonist was Halee Brant as the henchman of the devil: Mephistophilis. She commanded the room in this role, and took on a part as lead puppeteer to dramatize the seven deadly sins: greed, sloth, gluttony, rage, envy, lasciviousness and pride, (although I may not have remembered them all correctly). Ms. Brant was a skilled puppeteer and played all her parts seamlessly.

There were only six actors in the Shakespearemachine performance. They switched from part to part with no noise. We were thrilled to see them arising from under the stage, running in and out of the stage wings, and appearing from doors in the back stage wall. They even came out from trap doors under the stage floor. Each was unrecognizable in a constantly parading change of masks and costumes.

Nick Tash was an inspired director and lighting designer. Simple lamps lit performers so their silhouettes appeared as giants. Floor lamps doubled as instruments for simulated masturbation. Books lit up until they seemed to be objects from a dark world, luring subjects into hell. A hooded and masked Alex Volz accompanied the show with 'Muzak'- actually, the heavy metal, electric guitar version of such.

It was a wonderful performance by a half-dozen local actors playing all the parts, with cast and crew adding to the body count. Playwright Christopher Marlowe was a contemporary of William Shakepeare. Son of a Canterbury shoemaker, he received a Master of Arts degree and became a dramatist to give the other greats of his time - pause. For much of his life, Marlowe was thought to be a spy for Queen Elizabeth I. Later, he was charged for a crime for which he could be put to death: atheism and blasphemy. He died at the tender age of 29, having been stabbed over a tavern bill.

Perhaps had Marlowe lived longer, he would have given the Bard a serious run for the money. Yet, it is considered even with his young death, Marlowe influenced Shakespeare greatly. We know we loved this company's mind blowing production of Faustus, and can't wait to see their production of Macbeth in November of 2018.