A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum - It was a "Comedy Tonight" at the Fort Wayne Civic Theatre

This farce is so wonderful - so clever and joyful.  It was great fun to introduce my partner in life to this delightful musical play, which I will abbreviate to AFTH. Originally a Broadway show and then later a 1966 film, this comedy was inspired by the stories of a real Roman playwright, Plautus, who was born in 254 BC.  The story centers around three adjacent Roman houses and their occupants.  In one house, a young man, Hero, falls in love with a beautiful, innocent courtesan next door. She, however, has been promised by the brothel's owner to a returning soldier.  Hero's own clever slave Pseudolus then creates a ruse to win the girl away for his master and buy his own freedom in the process.

The show is fast-paced, with many plot twists and madcap stage choreography.  The opening and slamming of doors and windows, characters coming in and out of same, and running all over the place, is charmingly vaudevillian.  No wonder Plautus himself was a great success as a writer - he's said to have written 120 or more plays, of which 20 still survive in their entirety.

As a child I saw the movie AFTH, starring Zero Mostel, Buster Keaton, Phil Silvers, and Michael Crawford.  I love the pratfalls and physical comedy.  AFTH was the legendary Buster Keaton's last role - the actor from silent film days.    The musical score is wonderful - written by the brilliant Stephen Sondheim.  The song "Comedy Tonight" is so catchy; my friend, who had never heard it before, began singing it spontaneously over the next few days.  In the great tradition of Greek and eventually Roman theater - "tragedy tomorrow - comedy tonight!" - is alive and well downtown in 'The Fort' as we call it.

The cast of this current production at the Civic Theatre is spot on.  When the actor portraying the soldier Gloriosus pounds out the song "Bring Me My Bride" in his deep baritone, I am simultaneously thrilled and terrified. I need to remind myself, "this is just a play!" When the talented actor who plays the slave Hysterium disguises himself as a girl and reprises the number "Lovely," mooning about himself that "I'm lovely," I'm completely convinced he is!  Truly lovely, in his short tunic, hairy legs and sandals, he is: shrouded in a white gown.  I don't want to give too much of the story away here, but it gets funnier.

The story is sexist - I can't change that.  It is what it is.  The female parts are rather stereotypical of the patriarchal times then in Rome - a shrewish wife, the sexpotly concubines, the dimwitted but luscious virgin.  It all had all of the early-1960s take on gender roles at that time, when the AFTH book was written by Burt Shevelove and Larry Gilbert. Sexist though it is, the actors in Fort Wayne portraying the "working women" of the sex trade are delightful.  They filled their obligations on stage with vim and relish.  

Characters including twins, an S/M dominatrix, a graceful feline, a flexible gymnast, and other actresses and actors were fantastic at the choreography and stunts they had to perform.  I loved their bright costumes and the classic sets.  Fort Wayne Civic Theatre is doing a great job. These have been a couple of extremely challenging years for all performers.  It's so good to see them back on stage in person.

There are three more performances of AFTH at the Arts United Center in downtown Fort Wayne:  this Friday evening August 6 at 7:30 pm, Saturday the 7th (same), and Sunday August 8 at 2 pm.  The Arts United Center is a grand place to see a play or musical performance.  The 660-seat auditorium is one of Fort Wayne's most important landmarks.  It was designed by the renowned architect Louis Kahn, and is the only Kahn building in the Midwest.  Born in Estonia, Kahn immigrated to the US with his family at a young age, and studied at the University of Pennsylvania and worked at Yale and in private practice.  Built in 1973, the building has a brick exterior, with tons of light and shadows in the sparse yet grand staircases and common areas.  Seating is accessible and comfortable, even roomy, in the modern, technically updated, inner shell.  Referencing a violin in a case as Kahn's inspiration, the auditorium itself is an inner compartment, with folded concrete walls making up its carapace. The box office is offering "socially distanced" seating in the back half of the theater, meaning every other row is occupied, and seats are blocked off between groups.  There isn't a bad seat in the house, and tech and sound were so good I could hear every word the actors said.

 

Go see AFTH this weekend if you're free.  Plautus's works are some of the earliest surviving comedies and dramas in Latin literature.  Plautus's epitaph reads, translated:

Since Platus is dead, Comedy mourns,

The stage is deserted; then Laughter, Jest and Wit, and all Melody's countless numbers wept together.

RIP, Plautus, Buster Keaton, and all: we are truly grateful for your gifts.

Arts United Center box office:(260)422-4226

John Fogerty at the Foellinger Theatre Unabashedly, Thoroughly Rocked Franke Park in 2021

Seams Like - seems like.

I have a friend, a former high school teacher, who writes Facebook posts about baseball and titles them, 'seams like'.  He's a big fan of the game, especially of the St. Louis Cardinals.  Most fans can relate to John Fogerty's classic hit, Centerfield - and John played it at his concert on July 15, 2021 in Fort Wayne.  It's a crowd favorite that crosses and unites generations.

 "Put me in, Coach!" Fans still sing along with the lyrics at major league games.

Fogerty is still a force of nature at age 76.  As front man and songwriter for Creedence Clearwater Revival, his creative 'swamp rock' style music spoke to many Americans in the late 1960s and 70s.  CCR, a quartet including John's brother Tom, followed The Grateful Dead at Woodstock in 1969.  Reportedly, the Dead had a long set into the night and the crowd was sleepy when CCR took the stage August 12, 1969.  Fogerty supposedly felt the performance was lackluster, and under the circumstances would not allow CCR to be included in the concert film documentary.  Finally in 2019, CCR's Live at Woodstock was released and includes such chart successes such as Bad Moon Rising, Proud Mary, Born on the Bayou and Suzie Q.  John and his current band, which included two of his sons, played all these crowd-pleasers at the concert in Fort Wayne recently.  Media screens behind the band projected old films of kids riding bikes, dangling in tire swings at bayou riverbanks, and like-mindedly sweet nostalgia.

I am old enough to remember John was nearly always politically active with his music.  Anti-Vietnam war groups, Pacifists, and civil rights supporters found his songs uplifting in the '60s and '70s.  Folks still feel the same way about his stuff to this day. His song Fortunate Son, which could be considered an anti-war protest anthem, has been celebrated for decades by people all across the political spectrum. John made it into the National Guard right before he was drafted in the 60s.

In January of 2021, Fogerty released his new single, Weeping in the Promised Land, which appears to be a social/political statement about George Floyd's death aftermath and other USA-2020 states of affairs.  John is positioning himself to be current and forefront in the global rock and roll scene. This recent song is a soul sensitive, haunting gospel-type ballad.

Sons Shane and Tyler are part of the current band, and are excellent musicians in their own right.  John's wife Julie is from Indiana, and the two were married in Elkhart.  In addition to their three children together, John has three children from his first marriage which ended in 1970.  These old rockers are so amazing - John had incredible energy on stage and his wonderfully raspy, howly, distinctive voice sounds just the same. The audience was clearly delighted.

The Foellinger Theatre is such a fabulous venue - the open-air sides, great refreshments (alcohol too), convenient parking and genial Indiana crowd - what a wonderful evening and what a way to recharge one's batteries!  John's a national headliner and so tickets weren't cheap - our seats were about $100 each.  But for an occasional splurge, it was well worth it. John's a national treasure - I've listened to Fogerty on the radio nearly all my life, and I've always wanted to see him. I'm so glad I had that chance to make that happen.  Peace!  I'll be back!  If the old man down the road doesn't get me first - you've got to hidey-hide, and jump and run away -

Skating at Headwaters Park and Shopping in Downtown Fort Wayne Before Christmas

I'll tell you about a wonderful December day I had. It was Saturday, the last one before this Christmas. Traditionally, that's a big shopping day. It became for us a small business Saturday in the Fort Wayne area.

We had breakfast at Brevin's in Churubusco. A vegetable omelette was the choice for me and oatmeal, eggs and toast for others. It was delicious, and my portion so large I had to box it for home. I told my family about seeing the therapy dogs (pictured above) in the hallway of Walb Union, during finals week at Purdue Fort Wayne. Volunteers bring them to greet students. We all caught up around the table.

Then we drove in to Fort Wayne and visited the Fort Wayne Museum of Art. They had different exhibits - one a series of paintings by artist Elly Tullis - interpretations of Marys or Madonnas. It was soft and colorful, and I liked it very much. We also saw some wonderful prints and woodcuts, the Dia de Los Muertos exhibit with its art and shrines, and a fascinating series of masks from Mexico. The ornate, whimsical, fantastical masks were identified and grouped by different Mexican regions. I think I need to go back and look at those again.

I bought a beautiful hand-cut card in the FWMA museum gift shop. I love that gift shop - toys, wool clothing, gorgeous jewelry, art, sculpture, decor and games. I recommend shopping in museum stores for gifts. So much is unique, high quality, and special.

Then we went to a boutique on West Wayne Street downtown: Creative Women of the World. We discovered this shop is a registered nonprofit organization, and donations are tax deductible. They purchase works to sell from women artisans in 50 countries. There are over 200 artisans working and benefiting. It's a 'handmade, fair trade' shop. We loved the beautiful, creative choices.

One person picked out a homemade journal bound with leather. Another shopper got a luxurious, elegantly shaped cowl-necked sweater. They had all types of jewelry, art and gifts. There's a group of these newer boutique shops in this block, and the Fort Wayne Artists Guild have a Holiday Pop-Up Gallery at the City Exchange Shops at 127 West Wayne. We walked through the pop-up as well, and admired the paintings displayed for sale.

Lastly on this day, we went to the ice skating rink at Headwaters Park. Under the canopy that's also used for Greekfest, Germanfest, etc. in the summer, Fort Wayne sets up its ice rink and offers skate rental. Admission was $5 for adults and less for kids. They also offer concessions- hot chocolate, hot dogs, the usual. You can bring your own skates or rent a pair for $3. This ended up being a lot of fun. Mid-day, the sun was shining, we were gliding along in a big oval - skaters of all levels were doing their thing. It's the range of people and kids hanging on the outside rail pulling themselves along, up to experienced skaters weaving and turning in the center, showing off their skills.

Canned music plays - old pop songs, etc. I don't know if they're streaming Spotify or what, but it's fun to groove to the songs while skating around. It feels relaxing and unplugged. Then, it's "everybody off the ice," and the Zamboni comes out and works its magic. It melts the marred ice and smooths it, and adds cold water to freeze and make the surfaces all even again. Everyone likes to watch the Zamboni, and all rest a little from their exercise.

Farewell to you - happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, and a happy Festivus for the rest of us! Celebrated annually on December 23, this sectarian, non-commercial holiday includes the Airing of Grievances, Festivus dinner, and is followed by the Feats of Strength. Seinfeld's Frank Costanza would be proud. Also, remember the angel said, 'Fear not'...'I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people"..

And then the multitude said...'on earth - peace, good will to men' or perhaps 'peace to men of good will.' Adios, amigos. Until next time.

Fort Wayne Summer Music Theatre Rocked West Side Story

I had a great experience last summer that I can't neglect mentioning. I was privileged to see high school students from all around the area put on a wonderful production of the musical West Side Story. I'm shortening the name of the theatre group in this article's title to FWSMT. Started by a couple of Fort Wayne high school teachers over 20 years ago, the organization is supported by student actors, educators, dancers, designers and technicians. Over 40,000 people have attended their performances over the last two decades.

The FWSMT helps students to grow by presenting stage productions on a larger scale than their high school ones. Currently, the company uses an eight-week intensive schedule that includes singing, acting, dancing, set construction, and stage combat. Adult mentors help train and educate students in every process so that productions are close to the professional level.

Director Andrew Sherman wrote in his notes that he was able to stress an underlying theme he thought often went unnoticed in this piece. "The idea," he said, "that as young children we are taught many things: to hate, to love, right from wrong, empathy for democratic differences. At what point in our lives do we choose to break that cycle and trust in our own beliefs?"

West Side Story, a gang tale of the Sharks versus the Jets set in early 1960's Manhattan, is a contemporary Romeo and Juliet spinoff. Music and lyrics by Bernstein and Sonheim, the original production was directed and choreographed by Jerome Robbins.

The summer's production was so diverse - area schools with cast and crew represented included those from area towns of Churubusco, Garrett, DeKalb county, Huntington, Fort Wayne private and public schools, and other Allen County schools. The talent was outstanding.

The first act is great, with a street gang dance and no singing or dialogue- just jazz music and dancing. The streets and bodegas of New York were represented, as were the back streets and chainlinked-fence basketball courts of New York City. The whole Act 1 is staged in what could be common street scenes in any town - back yards, a bridal shop, back alleys, drug stores, and neighborhood streets under the highway. But this is The Big Apple: rooftops, the concrete jungle.

The mix of Latin rhythms and American jazz makes the show special. Stars of the show, Aaron Hawley as Tony and Erica Ashley as Maria, were very well cast. Their voices were golden and their performances brilliant.

I also really enjoyed Evan Snaufer as Snowboy and Noah Pemberton as Gee-Tar. These two were local performers from Leo High School stepping out of a small-town comfort zone, and did really well. All these kids worked really hard.

The cast did a terrific job with the choreographed fight scenes, which were both very dance-inspired and physical. They covered every inch of the stage and tossed themselves off ledges and boxes. I particularly liked how humorous the number "Gee, Officer Krupke" was. The guys let out all the stops and didn't worry about 2019 political correctness. Sophomoric humor was in full adolescent bloom.

The show was supported by lots of hometown benefactors and the "Adopt an Actor" program, which was an outlet to help sell tickets to lots of friends and family of cast and crew. The Indiana Musical Theatre Foundation was new to me, but I was very impressed with its summer 2019 production. I urge you to check out any performance of theirs you can catch in the future. West Side Story and its captivating music was absolutely inspirational. West Side Story is just one of my all-time favorites.

When Someone Goes Out of Her Way to Help Another

I had plenty of time to prepare for the trip. I was organized. I had packed my clothes the night before. A couple of dresses, some shorts and shirts, three swimsuits, some sandals and dress shoes. Socks and underwear. Paperwork my mother had asked for, all in a suitcase.

Plus an under-the-seat carry-on with all the usual things: jewelery, toiletries, electronic gagets, reading materials. I had my phone, my purse, my e-ticket. I even had time to do some chores that Friday morning: I had swept walnuts off our back deck, had vacuumed, had done some laundry. I was on my way to visit my mother in Phoenix, flying out of Fort Wayne International Airport. I was ready to go. I made a couple of trips to the car, loading up my smaller carry-on and a hot cup of coffee.

It's an easy drive for me, skirting around Fort Wayne on Interstate 469. Not a lot of traffic lights, no really heavy traffic. The leaves are at the height of changing color right now. The maples are brilliant, as are the many burning bushes. Even the smaller redbud trees now have bright yellow leaves instead of the summer green. It's a crisp fall day, and after two plane rides I will see my smart, 94-year-old dear mother.

I listen to National Public Radio along the way: the news of the day is about US troops pulling out of Syria, abandoning the Kurds, and the invasion of the area by Turkish forces. I get to the airport and park in long term parking. Rates are fairly reasonable: $9 a day. Credit card, or economy parking would be even less - I think $8/daily. I gather my things to get out of my car. I pop the trunk to get my suitcase, and --

There is no suitcase. It takes me a minute to compute as I stare at the blank spot. I look in the back seat - no suitcase. I earlier have left the suitcase at the house.

I have my electronic ticket, my ID, my purse, credit cars and cash, but no change of clothes, no swimsuits or other shoes. So I could still get on my flight and buy items when I got there, but it would be expensive and time-consuming. Who can I call?

I start with my husband, who said he couldn't leave work and he's too far from the house anyway. I ask him who he can think of to help me. We come up with the idea of a neighbor gentleman, whom I call. No answer.

I scroll through my contacts. It needs to be someone close to the house because there isn't much time left. I try a friend, a parent of my child's friend. No answer. I do not want to give up until I've run out of options.

I think of a neighbor who is a volunteer fire fighter and RN. I haven't spoken to her recently, but I give it a shot. It's mid-day and many people are at work, but she answered my call.

I explain the situation without much hope on my part, and she almost immediately said "yes." It was her only day off work that week, she said. She agreed to jump in her car, go to my house, unlock the door with a keypad code, find the suitcase, load it into her car and drive it to the airport. It's about a thirty minute drive.

We hang up. I can't believe my good luck. I wonder if she'll make it on time. What a great friend - I'm so impressed. She just dropped what she was doing to help out a person who needed a big favor.

She made it to the airport in record time. I tried to give her $20 for gas, which she refused. She had made my day, and restored my faith in human nature. People can be so good. It's amazing. (I did take over a gift for her when I got back.) It was the least I could do after her last-minute save-the-day.

Fort Wayne Airport has the best TSA - they are friendly and helped expedite the trip through the bins, line and x-Ray machine. I was at the gate and ready to board my flight. And made my flight I did, suitcase and all. It was a great trip. Thanks again, friend - you went above and beyond. It makes me smile. I will never forget it.

High School Reunion Means Reconnection

I recently attended my fortieth-year high school graduation reunion. It was wonderful. I am from the high school class of 1979. I don't know what it is about this class, but we all seem to get along so well, and are so happy to be together. Even the people who don't really know each other still are very pleasant and friendly with each other, and realize they have a lot in common.

This reunion was planned for the high school homecoming weekend, which meant it began with a high school football game in early October. The class met at the high school game to watch. I'm not a huge high school football fan, but I'm sure it's nostalgic for the many former football players and cheerleaders, and band members in our class. My town has built a new, state-of-the-art high school, and a new football stadium as well. It was a chance for many of those who no longer live in the little town to come back and see it.

On Saturday, a former classmate had organized a tour of the new high school. This was extremely worthwhile. Mt. Vernon Township High School has a new, 73 million dollar state-of-the-art facility. The buildings were designed with all the security features needed at a high school in our current times. I was so impressed by all the hands-on learning opportunities - classrooms designed for kids who won't be going to traditional four-year colleges. The trades, welding, machine shops, audio and video technology, healthcare and nursing (I know that's a college degree), a pre-school attended by staff's children (for students to get child-care experience) - it was amazing.

It also had a beautiful, state-of-the-art theater, a great gymnasium, and cafeteria - somehow, all kids eat for free there, I believe I was told. I was so encouraged by what the school had to offer. I know a lot of people nostalgically miss the old buildings and old high school campus, but this generation will be much better off with these new opportunities.

Saturday night, we attended the main event in a ballroom at a local hotel. One classmate is a cake artist, and she created this amazing cake topped with an authentic letter-jacket, also made from delicious cake. I don't know how she does it. There was a cash bar and heavy hors d'oeuvres. Music entertainment consisted of song requests loaded into a laptop and played over a sound system through a music server. There was a spontaneous Congo line snaking around the dance floor to the song "Locomotion."

One thing I really enjoyed, was the gathering together of students who had attended the various community grade schools, for group photos with their elementary school classmates. The photo above is a group who all attended the same grade school. I don't know how many grade schools fed into our high school, but including the rural grade schools, I would guess around ten. I think it's neat these adults in their late fifties sat together for group photos with their elementary school buddies.

Another highlight was when our funny Master of Ceremonies, Rick, announced we were crowning our own Homecoming Queen of the reunion. It was a surprise for all. The reunion committee decided to recognize our wonderful Starla, who had done a ton of great work for this special weekend. So Starla was called up and got a crown, flowers and maybe a scepter or a sash (I can't remember). Then, I was so impressed - without missing a beat, Starla thanked everyone and announced she was sharing her title with others on the committee, and handed off her crown and flowers to the others! It was just so kind, sweet and cute. It makes me smile now.

Sunday morning meant a group breakfast, and people saying their goodbyes. There was a strange magic that happened at that reunion. Old boyfriends and girlfriends recognized each other and chatted as platonic friends about days gone by. Stories were told, and reminiscing overshadowed texting and scrolling on cellphones. Phone numbers were exchanged and connections were remade. I don't know when I've seen so many glowing smiles and happy faces. It was a sweet night to remember in Mt. Vernon, Illinois.

Carving Out Time

I'm feeling the need to find a few moments to slow down a little. This morning I'm sitting on my deck as the sun comes up, watching a cloud bank roll in from the west.

I hear the insects squeaking like violins in the weeds down by the water. I hear a bird call out to its companion, then I hear another bird call back. The soft sun rises ever higher in the sky, revealing itself to be the fireball it truly is.

I hear a train sweetly whistling in the distance. I hear cows calling lowly to each other, far away.

As the sun heats the air, it sends tiny puffs and gusts my way, cooling my face in the sudden new heat. On the other side of me, the wind drives the rain clouds closer, buffeting me gently as well, bits of gusts and breezes kissing me intermittently.

I'm not awakening with screen time, I'm not turning on the television, I'm not staring at my phone. I am centering myself. It will be a busy week, and that's ok. But now, I look at the long shadows cast by the rising sun, and I see a tall version of myself behind me, the folded patio umbrella as tall as a tree in silhouette.

Yesterday, as we sat quietly and talked, a small flock of wild turkeys calmly walked out of the trees and disappeared into the cattails in order to get a drink of water. They were of varying sizes, so it was hard to discern whether they were all from the same family or not. Clearly there were two adults, with their bluish bald heads, and three or four juveniles.

But there was one much smaller chick, doing just fine, holding its own with the group. Could it be some kind of runt from the same clutch, or is it really a much younger turkey with the flock? Perhaps one of the larger birds is another adult on its own, and this is her single chick. I can't say.

But, they happily grazed around, discretely watching for predators, casually picking bugs and grains out of the grass, and then walking around seemingly looking for a new path. They had come from the southeast, and at first it seemed they were going to try and walk around the lake to the northwest. It seemed as though the lead turkey started calculating and decided to take a chance. They would make better time to fly over the lake as a group, rather than walk through the grasses around it. They would be exposed doing so, and the leader would have to act quickly. He seemed to call to the group briefly, and then took off, his big body flapping hard - I'm amazed how strong they are and how fast they can fly for their size. One by one, the other turkeys launched into the air and flew out behind and around him.

To myself I thought, "Oh, the littlest one won't be able to fly yet, they'll have to figure it out and circle back for her and walk after all." But to my surprise, she could fly too, and with no hesitation, cruised right along behind them. Wow, even little turkeys can fly - who knew?

Good luck, little turkey, and Godspeed. Don't let the dogs, the raccoons, the coyotes, or the humans get you. I love you, little feathered dinosaurs. Please come back and see me sometime soon.

There Was a Time

There was a time before Twitter, hash tags and snap chat. There was a time before a college girl would walk up to my barista station while face timing and talking loudly on her phone right in the middle of trying to order, as she acted as though I was interrupting her. As I patiently waited through her going back to her conversation, back and forth, as I waited to take her order and serve her.

There was a time before every college student had his or her phone out, scrolling through it, eyes down, as s/he walked through campus. There was a time before everyone had ear buds in, and now wireless ear buds sticking out of their ears.

There was a time before I secretly cringed as a student walked up to me, and I prayed he wouldn't order the frappuccino with all the syrups and sugars, while also ordering a chocolate chunk muffin to be washed down by it into his belly. I prayed he wouldn't try to give himself diabetes. But he ordered it anyway, over and over again.

Long ago, there was a time my parents held me in their arms when I was a tiny baby. I don't remember this, but I know they did. When I can't sleep, I like to imagine this. I see my father with his blue eyes and dark, neatly combed hair, cradling me in his arms as he held me, folding me in with all his love, protecting me. My father died too young, but bravely, doing what he loved. It broke my heart. It was a time in my life when I lived far away from him, overwhelmed with caring for my three young children, one of them quite disabled. Things are better now, but I was quite home bound and exhausted at that time. I wasn't able to immediately fly out to see him at the end. My father was my hero, and that loss changed me in profound ways.

I also imagine and remember my patient mother holding me, the warmth of her lap and arms comforting me as she rocked me. She with her strong faith, her quietness, her groundedness, I looking up at her face as she looked out, calmly. Always there for me, always thinking of the rest of us, intelligently keeping us safe and well, partly with the good medical advice she had gleaned from doctor visits and a lifetime of experience. She didn't feel the need to run around with flocks of women - she did have good friends, though, and loved quietly reading at home, reading classics, fiction, and the bible, providing the love in our nest.

There was a time before skateboarders rode their boards and hover boards clandestinely but openly down the school hallways, as if they were better than the rest of us and didn't have to follow the rules. There was a time when the family came home to eat dinner together. A time when everything we didn't eat wasn't thrown in dumpsters and landfills.

I remember a time before giant storms wrecked the Bahamas, Florida, the Carolinas, the Texas coasts, and then turned around and hammered it all again. Before offshore oil rigs exploded and leaked toxic fossil products into the ocean for weeks. A time when our oceans and beaches were not chock-full of plastics and other garbage.

There was a time before giant wildfires raged in California, in Canada, in the Amazon rain forests, in Alaska and Siberia. Before person after person wielded firearms and with one squeeze of a little trigger cut down dozens of people in schools, shopping malls and movie theaters. There was a time before people hijacked airplanes and committed suicide and homicide by flying the planes into giant skyscrapers, causing the buildings to crumple as if they were card houses, killing thousands.

There used to be many more than just two northern white rhinos left in the wild. Will the subspecies be able to survive from the embryos scientists created through IVF? I think it's doubtful.

There was a time before people injected their faces with Botox and fillers, before we were fascinated with "Housewives" and Kardashian/Jenners rather than our own friends and neighbors. Before we felt panicked when we were without our phone chargers and fitness trackers and GPS devices to find our way.

Today is Friday the 13th. It feels like Friday the 13th. It feels like the Groundhog Day Friday the 13th of history. The foreboding of a downfall. The signs are clear. We are warned. The warnings are screaming at us. Are we listening? But -- there is always hope. Humans can be great, they can be astonishing, and they can be terrible. We have free will. We have choice. Are we going to be great, or are we going to be terrible? Let us choose, boldly choose, to be great. Let us have hope. Now and forevermore, amen.

Melissa Etheridge Showed the Crowd at the Clyde How to Get Her Done

I think of Bruce Springsteen when I hear Melissa Etheridge. She's an original rocker who can belt it out, and charm the crowd with her swagger. She owns the room. Her emotion, her passion, her presence - she is so great, what a privilege to see her up close and in person.

The Clyde Theatre, a renovated movie theatre on Bluffton Road in Fort Wayne, is an exciting newer venue in the area. On the south side of downtown and right by Foster Park, an architect named A. M. Strauss drew plans for Quimby Village and the Clyde Theatre in 1949. The 1780-seat theatre drew people from the Indiana-Ohio regions when it opened in 1951.

Chuck and Lisa Surack from Sweetwater industries, along with other area partners, renovated the venue beginning in 2017, classily preserving most of the original Art Deco design of the spaces. There's a second-floor VIP gallery, a 7000 square foot artists dressing room and hospitality wing, and space for weddings and other public bookings for events.

Melissa's songs "I'm the Only One" and "Come to my Window" had the crowd on their feet and belting out every word. Melissa has a big backing by the LGBTQ+ community, but her fan base is bigger than that - there were people of all ages, straight or gay, in attendance. Her appeal is mainstream as well as off stream, broad with a wide audience.

Born in 1961, Melissa released her first album in 1988, and the single "Bring me Some Water" from it earned her a Grammy nomination for Best Female Rock Vocal Performance. In 1993, she won her first Grammy for the song "Ain't it Heavy." She received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2011. For years she has been a noted advocate for LGBTQ+ rights.

In October 2004, Etheridge was diagnosed with breast cancer, and underwent surgery and chemotherapy. Bald from chemo, Melissa came out for the 2005 Grammy's and performed Janis Joplin's "Piece of my Heart" as a tribute. This performance has since been considered iconic, and has been highly lauded, commented and tweeted about.

Her current tour, entitled The Medicine Show, supports the release of her 15th studio record of the same name. She's crossing the country to play in cities such as New York, Bonita Springs, New Orleans, Des Moines, and Chandler, AZ.

The Clyde has two onsite bars for concert patrons - one inside the concert hall so you don't miss a note, and one in the lobby, where you can have a conversation and take a breather if need be. It's just the right size - very fan friendly. I have had friends raving about seeing great traveling acts there, and I finally made it to see for myself. We are so fortunate to have such great music spots in the Fort! I can't wait to go back! Peace and love to you all. See you at Sweetwater, at the Embassy, at the Foellinger, at Memorial Coliseum, at the Clyde - or maybe, just see you at the movies.

Pokagon State Park and the Potawatomi Inn are an Hour's Drive from the Fort

Pokagon State Park in Steuben County is a real jewel. Sitting on the shores of Lake James and near Angola and Fremont, Indiana, the park and lodge have lots to offer.

Citizens of the county raised funds in 1925 to buy 580 acres of land and then donated it to the state of Indiana. More land was purchased or donated over the years, and now the park includes 1260 acres of trails, woods, and beaches. The Civilian Conservation Corps built the lodge and other structures beginning in 1927.

There's so much in this park. Camping facilities, a staff of full-time naturalists, paved bicycle trails, hiking trails, a nature interpretive center, playgrounds, a swimming beach, a marina with boat rentals, cabins, meeting and conference facilities, a camping general store, a saddle barn, and the fabulous toboggan run. Part of the toboggan run is pictured above.

The refrigerated toboggan run hosts about 90,000 riders every winter season. There is a vertical drop of 90 feet over a quarter mile. Sled speed can reach 40 miles per hour for a 20-30 second total ride. Operation hours are usually November 29 through March 1. Sled rentals are $13/hour and the park entrance fee is $7 for in-state vehicles.

We recently went to stay at the Potowatami Inn. It was the perfect time to be there - during the week after the Memorial Day holiday weekend, there were very few guests. The lodge tends to get booked solid during peak summer periods and during toboggan season, so make your reservations far in advance during these times. There are 137 guest rooms in the lodge. We ate in the quaint lodge dining room, and had an excellent meal for a reasonable price. I had some barbecued ribs, and the portion was big enough for me to box up for a couple of more meals. My partner had the soup and salad bar, and he said it was excellent - a good revue, because his standards are high.

We also enjoyed the indoor swimming pool, hot tub and sauna. Chlorine smell, especially around the hot tub, was pretty strong, but overall we enjoyed these spaces and I had a nice swim. There are some fun recreation rooms in the lodge with games and equipment for kids. I also saw a neat craft room that wasn't open the hours we were there, but looked like fun. The outer porch decks on two levels with a lovely overlook of Lake James are really scenic and relaxing. I saw several people with their dogs walking around as well - even in the dining room!

The highlight of my trip was a ride at the saddle barn. Only open in the summer, I got to go on a lovely trail ride through the woods. I saw the historic spring cabin with fresh spring water (I was told it is tested weekly and is clean to drink). I saw dogwood trees, redbuds, wildflower plants and so much greenery. Birds were chirping, and I saw my horse scouting the woods (perhaps for deer). I had a nice conversation with my horseback guide. Being there during an off-peak time, it was very quiet, relaxing and secluded on the ride through the woods.

There's lots to offer at Pokagon and the Potowatami lodge. It's a perfect getaway from Fort Wayne. Just get on I-69 and head north. Let's hope there are always local, state and national parks to enjoy. I think they are all so special and beautiful - some of the sweetest things in life.

Baymont Inn & Suites was a Nice Stay Off the Beaten Path Near DuPont and I-69

I needed a break. A break from my job, and also a break from the mundane tasks of doing dishes, cleaning floors, and washing bedsheets. Spring is popping out prettily here, and I really enjoy looking at all the beautiful blossoms coming out everywhere. Magnolias, redbuds, tulips, vinca, etc., are here for our viewing pleasure.

But there's also a bit of craziness that has been going on. The transition from cold to warm earth causes so many changes. Pollen erupts from plants, river water warms up, bugs hatch out. We are biological beings and we feel the tug of earth's forces. Sometimes there are some rough patches along the way, just as there are cracks in the roads and new potholes.

I chopped out old landscaping. I uncovered, then handled baby bunnies while doing so, and put them back in the nest. I shoveled mulch. And then, I just wanted a break, from worrying, caregiving, solving problems and doing chores.

So, I did this thing I do every few years - I booked a hotel room just for myself, to have some quiet "me" time. For me, the site has to have a pool so I can swim a little - it loosens up my sore hip that occurs when I stand at work too much. Bike riding and floor stretching are good for me, but somehow nothing helps like doing strokes in a pool.

So, I looked at prices online for nearby hotels, and chose the Baymont Inn & Suites at 2881 Dupont Road. By looking at websites, I found a price below the posted rate and called the local number for the hotel. Some of these prices really don't work or they require more than a one-night stay, or joining a plan, or meeting some other special conditions. The staff person was kind and helped me find a matching rate I could live with. I also asked for a AARP member discount, and there are many point systems, AAA deals, and other promotions available if you work at it. The site not having a lot of bookings for a Sunday night (the hotel was pretty empty) helped too.

One side of the hotel, the east side, is pretty close to Interstate 69, so I was afraid it might be noisy. But, luckily I was booked on the west side of the hotel, and it was surprisingly quiet. My room looked out onto what I believe is an office park, and there were no office workers there Sunday night. The room was small, clean, and tasteful. The shower was easily ergonomically accessible and the small fridge was cold. The in-room coffee maker worked. The bed was firm yet very comfortable. I was happy.

The person with whom I made the reservation told me the pool had recently been redone, and I was not disappointed. Windows let in natural light, and although small, the pool had lovely blue tile and seemed very clean and clear. I liked it. The water was a little cool but not bad - swimmers who are really trying to get a workout will tell you they don't want lukewarm water. I was by myself, which was fortunate - after hearing lawnmowers running all weekend and kids screaming in the neighborhood, I wouldn't have liked a ton of splashing and noise in the pool.

And then - it was back to my room for a little HBO and Game of Thrones. I like seeing the repeats of previous weeks' episodes before the new show - I always seemed to have missed something. This is really "wind down" time for me. I don't know all the details of all the stories, but after a few years, the main characters are like soap opera friends of mine - Jamie, John Snow, Cersei, Brienne, Arya, Stansa, Daenerys and Tyrion could almost all be drinking buddies of mine.

I enjoyed the GOT episode - I'm tempted to say something more specific but I've been warned by friends so no spoilers here. The hotel was quiet through the night. Breakfast was pretty standard yet perfectly suitable - the usual - cereals, sweets, breads, yogurts, eggs, sausage, a waffle maker, juices - all perfectly fine. I liked the paper flowers and decorations in the dining room, and realized it had just been Cinco de Mayo, so maybe that's why.

What I didn't like - the parking lot and bushes outside were pretty dirty. Trash scattered around, also it looked like people had dumped their car ashtrays with cigarette butts on the ground. No thank you. Perhaps the lot gets a little dirtier because of its proximity to the highway. But the staff were nice, and helpful, the pool clean and relaxing, the bed comfortable, the room quiet, and the brief stay did me a lot of good. It's a 'thumbs up' from me.

Wild Turkeys Simply Thrill Me

I get so excited when I see a flock of wild turkeys. Near Fort Wayne, in rural areas, it's not uncommon to see them in fields or crossing roads. This time of year --the spring, they seem very distracted, as big toms display for the females. Feathers and tails are all puffed out, bald blue heads, red wattles (under the chin) and snoods (over the head) are highly visible. Passing cars seem to barely excite the birds' attention.

During the times of Native Americans, before the push of "white" settlers, Eastern wild turkeys were spread across much of what is now the Midwest United States. They commonly lived in forests, and lost habitat when trees were cleared. Settlers hunted them voraciously, and wild turkeys basically disappeared from areas except for the Ozarks, the Appalachias, and swampland in the South.

From 1956 to 1979, over 200 turkeys were trapped in other places and released mostly in southern Indiana forests, in as many as 17 locations. By 1979, officials thought there were enough turkeys to allow hunting in 19 counties, and 48 birds were harvested in a 12-day season.

In the 1980's, over 1700 turkeys were released in Indiana at 112 sites. Up until present day, over 2700 turkeys have been released in 185 sites and the gobblers reside in 89 of Indiana's 92 counties. The population supports an enthusiastic hunting base, although the smart and wary turkeys sometimes prove to be a hard bird to take out. If they take off in flight, turkeys can fly as far as a mile and roost in trees. It's believed there may now be as many as 120,00 wild turkeys in Indiana.

Turkeys eat insects, berries, green leaves, acorns, seeds, and grain. They also swallow gritty material to help grind their food. In late winter, turkey flocks divide into different groups- hens in one group, young toms in another group and old gobblers in another. Adult males only grow the bristled black beard that hangs from the front center of their breasts. The bearded ones select a territory for their harems and defend it from any competitors. In the mornings, the old toms vocalize, calling to and courting as many hens as they can lure away from their neighbors' groups. These courting dances go on from roughly February to May. Male turkeys not only have talons, but also sharp spurs on the backs of their legs near the feet, which they can use in bloody fights against their rivals.

Hens create haphazard, yet well covered nests on the ground, and lay seven to 20 eggs, averaging usually around a dozen. Pinkish-brown chicks hatch to live and feed on the ground, and aren't able to fly until they're about a month old. Family groups eventually congregate into larger flocks that all feed, rest and roost together. Turkeys can run as fast as 25 mph and fly at speeds of nearly 55 mph. Who knew? I'm even more impressed.

I'm a little amazed at the numbers of wild turkeys that are harvested. The IN DNR reported as many as 12,000 have been bagged in a single year. It's incredible considering the birds' keen eyesight and hearing. A shooter has to remain virtually motionless. Numbers collected in Michigan are even higher - as many as 30,000 a year. The record was 42,000 in 2008, according to the Michigan DNR. That's a lot of turkey dinner. But only about one in five hunters actually bring in a turkey - it's that challenging.

It's debated as to whether Benjamin Franklin actually ever proposed to the Continental Congress that the wild turkey be named as the symbolic avian of our country. But Ben continues to seem wise over time - turkeys have come back and flourished, while bald eagles have sadly struggled with habitat loss and human population. Some folk even resent eagles' tendency to scavenge garbage dumps and drop unwanted waste from these in neighborhoods. But both the eagle and the turkey have their place, and just maybe old Ben was really on to something. I wish I had a turkey for a friend. I'm infatuated.

Ben is Back has Lessons for All of Us

Life can be sweetly peaceful in Indiana. Or in an instant, it can become very turbulent. Things can change quickly. We are so complicated, so flawed as human beings. We can be both so good and so bad, all at once.

I like to see the current movies, and I go to the local cinemas to see those I'm really interested in, or those I think would best be seen on a big screen. With that in mind, I saw Bohemian Rhapsody, A Star is Born, Mary Queen of Scots, Vice, and Black KKlansman at the theater. It's been years since I've been to the movies that often, but I think for me this was a particularly good string of films.

Others I will watch by streaming or downloading on my device, or pick up at a Redbox. A few that come to mind are The Favourite, The Wife, and Green Book. One movie had not been on my radar screen - Ben is Back. After a year of good movies, this one seemed to be hiding in the shadows. I got around to choosing it, and I was so glad I did.

I didn't know beforehand what the movie was about, and it's probably good I had no expectations. The story was written and the movie was directed by Peter Hedges, who did a good job combining suspenseful action storytelling with thorough, slow character development. One doesn't always see those two things together in the same movie. In a strange twist, the writer/director's own son is cast as the lead in the movie, reportedly at the insistence of star Julia Roberts (good call fighting for him, woman). Lucas Hedges is a brilliant actor, and I'll never forget him breaking out as the son who lost his father in Manchester by the Sea.

This story is a tale of narcotics addiction, recovery, and relapse. It's about the vicious cycle of the hold chemicals place on our brains. Many of us quickly become powerless to the substances. Our minds, our bodies crave them and the struggle becomes an all out fight for death and life with families destroyed, property stolen, bodies withered and well-being shattered. It is a tale told in every city, every small town, every barrio and every hamlet across the United States today, as we all know.

The writer did a good job with the dialogue in this film. The old 12-step recovery program, even if flawed, is one of the tried-and-true systems still working after all these years (it was started by a doctor and a businessman in Akron, OH in 1935). Lay people get to see it work on the television comedy show Mom and reality shows such as Intervention. In Ben is Back, the Serenity Prayer is used at a recovery meeting, as is the phrase "it works if you work it," meaning in part, just keep coming back.

The movie keeps one's attention - the lies told by addicts, to themselves and to others. When is Ben telling the truth and when is he not? And the enabling and lying of one's loved ones - the bargaining, the begging, excuses, rationalization. It plays out so well in this story. Julia gives a stellar performance here - perhaps her best work since Erin Brocovitch. I guess I find a little fault here in that even with her first-rate performance in this tale, I find I never really forget I'm looking at the familiar and famous JR - she doesn't totally disappear into the character. Maybe that's just my flaw, my bad.

Peter Hedges brings a reality and a special humor to this story that does seem to be a reflection of real life. For example, even as a fellow addict is trying to beat the crap out of Ben, he still takes a moment to look at Ben's mom and defer nicely: "I'm sorry, Mrs. B." She looks at him and says, "Spencer?" He says, "I go by Spider now." She says, "You look terrible!", not hiding her disgust.

The blended family is so real - the mom wonders if the breakup of her first marriage caused her son to spiral into addiction. She flagellates herself - what was it that she did wrong? But the son bluntly says it wasn't about that, he didn't need a dad - or at least, not that dad. The second husband has paid for multiple rehab sessions and had taken out a second mortgage on the house to pay for the last one. There is a mention of white and wealthy privilege - poor folks die more because rehab and health care is so expensive. There is discussion about the pharmaceutical industry and doctors, and all the political and social issues that play into the current crisis.

But somehow, nothing is as powerful as a great story, and a great storyline, well told. I haven't even mentioned Ponce the dog yet - also an important character. I won't spoil the story for you - you just need to see it for yourself. Peace be with you. Take it a day at a time.

Indy's USS Indianapolis Memorial Reminds Citizens of the Heroic Sacrifices of our Service Men and Women

Along the gentle waterway in the White River State Park, downtown Indianapolis, are walkways, sights and places to play. Modestly set along the path is an unobtrusive monument that could easily be overlooked if a person wasn't paying attention. Located on the east bank of the central canal, north end of the beautiful three-mile long Canal Walk, this ship-shaped memorial was designed by Joseph Fischer and installed in 1995.

Gray and black granite provide the palette for an etched account of the ship's story, and the names of its 1200 sailors are listed on its opposite side. After this giant navy cruiser was sunk in 1945 during WWII, only 317 crew members survived. I haven't shown it in my photographs above - rather, I've chosen to highlight the views around it - the very modern playground and a view down the canal.

This heavy cruiser was launched in 1931, served as the flagship of the scouting force, and often served as President Roosevelt's personal ship in WWII. She distinguished herself in many battles, including Aleutian Islands, Gilbert Islands, Marshall Islands, the capture of Guam and Saipan, the capture of Tinian Island, and the capture of Iwo Jima in 1945.

At Okinawa, a suicide Kamakaze plane stuck the ship and caused 38 U.S. casualties. But she is best known for being chosen to stealthily transport the world's first atomic bomb to Tinian in 1945. Afterwards, while motoring from Guam to Leyte, she was struck by two torpedoes launched by a Japanese submarine.

Many books and movies have been written about this dramatic, tragic story. The ship went down in minutes, as she had sailed unprotected without escort and was thus very vulnerable to the sub's attack. Many men were killed immediately by the torpedo strikes and their resulting explosions and fires. It is thought about 900 men went into the water alive, along with a few life boats and PFD's (vests) worn by the men.

The story gets more gruesome and tragic to tell. The waters were shark-infested, and blood in the water probably made their vicious attacks more imminent. Shark strikes went on for five days, until the first rescues finally happened. Even without the horror of the sharks, a majority of the men probably would have died, of thirst, dehydration, starvation, injury and exposure. It was literally hell on earth, at sea.

Heroic rescues began to occur after a bomber crew on routine anti-sub patrol accidentally spotted men in the water. A seaplane was dispatched to assist and a destroyer, under its own authority, diverted its mission at the time to go rescue men in the water. Between first the seaplane, which ditched itself in the water to help, and then the destroyer ship that came, and risked its own safety by shining its searchlights in the sky to beacon other rescue vessels, 317 lives were saved.

I've just touched the surface of this very dramatic story. I can't give it the justice due here. The simple memorial on the Indy canal bank sits peacefully, waiting to be found by city visitors. I don't seek out war memorials as such and their designs vary greatly around the United States. Yet this one makes me proud to be a citizen of the U.S., and a resident of Indiana. Fort Wayne is a great town, and Indianapolis is a terrific choice for a road trip destination from here. I'm no war history buff and I find these stories difficult to think about. Yet, lest we fail to remember -

Bless you, men of the Indianapolis. I'm glad your ship was named for my capitol city. Thank you, families of those men. You as well have made unbelievable sacrifices. I'm so humbled by your toil, and in a small way, proud to tell a small bit of your harrowing tale as well.

Expresso and Coffee are Trending Hot

Working as a barista has been interesting. It was a steep learning curve for me. I went from knowing very little about coffee, and nothing about expresso, to becoming a coffee shop professional. I never had been a Starbucks shop customer, so I went into the job starting from scratch.

It's satisfying to make and hand off a drink. People are so happy to get their beverage. They're tired, they need to wake up, they need some energy - they're willing to wait in line for their expresso or smoothie.

Some customers are intimidated by the terminology. They're not familiar with the names for the drink sizes: tall, grande, and vente. A tall is really a small. I suppose it's called a tall because smaller drinks are called shorts, but we don't serve shorts. We do have 'shots' of expresso, served in shot-size cups, but no 'shorts.' A grande is a medium, and I suppose someone who worked for Starbucks thought it would be good branding to give these cup sizes Italian names. In general, customers seem to be following along with it all.

A vente is the largest cup. At first I didn't know what that meant - maybe I thought vente was "extra-large" in Italian. After looking it up, however, I discovered vente means twenty: hence, a 20-ounce cup. No big secret.

New customers can struggle with what to order. I'm always happy to answer any questions and give out samples when I have them available. There are flavor syrups and sauces that can be added. The sauces are thicker and included things such as mocha, white mocha, pumpkin spice, caramel, maple pecan, etc. Syrups aren't as thick and include flavors such as vanilla, chestnut praline, caramel, hazelnut, peppermint, and toffeenut. So expresso can be combined with any of these flavors in different amounts and sizes. Steamed milk is added to make hot drinks, and chilled milk and/or ice added to make cold drinks. Simple.

So do you want a hot drink or a cold drink? Brewed coffee or expresso? Dairy or soy? Or would you rather have tea, or a fruit smoothie? Strawberry lemonade? Or please don't say it - a frappuccino.

Although they are really popular, I'm not fond of making these frozen drinks. The stuff that goes in them: three pumps of a reconstituted powered expresso mix, supposedly so as not to use hot expresso in a chilled drink. Three pumps of a sticky syrup, and a big pump of sauce flavor: mocha, caramel or whatever. Add whole milk, a cup of ice, and blend. This is all rather labor intensive. Pour in a cold cup and then top with fresh whipped cream and a drizzle. It's a high calorie drink, and I can see the attraction in warm weather, but they're not much fun to make in winter.

Personally, I would rather have a hot tea - I think there's just too much caffeine in the expresso drinks for me. There are so many good tea flavors - every thing from green tea to fruit teas to black tea. I think there are health benefits from tea that shouldn't be overlooked. Antioxidants, aromatic pleasures, add a little honey and lemon - viola!

I admire the folks who order an Americano - iced or hot. For the caffeine punch, it's more economical (more shots of expresso) and has fewer calories (contains no milk or soy). It's more bang for the buck.

For pure flavor, try a chai tea latte. Lots of spices, like cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves give chai a lot of depth. Steamed with milk or soy, it's rich, fragrant, and filling. It's certainly one of the pleasanter things to make because of its rich smell.

Coffee is big business these days, and I plan to write more about my barista job and running the coffee shop. It's great when people make time to get together for a good cup of Joe.

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.