“They’re coming to get you. Do you know what for?” Met on the street, we were led through an iron gate, down a steep set of stairs and through a crumbling basement. We ended up seated at the bottom of the pool, proof that that none among us was a witch; witches, as is well known, will summon the forces of evil to cause them to float. On this particular occasion, however, it remained inconclusive, given the absence of water in the pool. Also missing were empty seats, as the sell-out crowd assembled to see this already intriguing subterranean finale of KOLT Run Creations’ first season, Vinegar Tom. At first glance, Caryl Churchill’s Vinegar Tom is a play about Salem witches, but scratch

Diana is drunk. Or high. Or — most likely — both. In one scene she is on the phone, clearly agitated, trying to negotiate a deal, offering some sort of sexual opportunity in exchange for money to buy drugs, or just in trade for drugs. In another scene, she gets into a shoving match with the man she refers to as her boyfriend. He baits her to come on, and she punches him several times, though fairly ineffectively, in the face. She has asked him to wait while she went to score drugs for the two of them, and when she returns an hour later, he accuses her of having traded them for oral sex. Diana admits to having been discovered passed out in a ditch, clothing torn and disheveled, visibly a

“That was wild—and I learned a lot!” That was just one of many comments being bantered about by an audience clearly still engaged by what they had just seen, even as they exited the theater. The crowd was abuzz as they exited the opening night performance of ENRON at Capital Stage, a few younger members openly agitated by what they had learned about the nefarious dealings and demise of the energy giant. “[News Report] ‘California’s power supply came up short today, and the lights went out. Rolling blackouts have hit the sixth largest economy in the world. For the first time in sixty-five years, the electric power market is in chaos. Electricity rates are climbing and California has gone

Shift happens. No one is more aware of this than Jewel Diamond Taylor. In 1985, she walked away from a lucrative career working in human resources in the aerospace industry to pursue a calling: Happiness. It was definitely a leap of faith. At the time, Taylor had no plan, no road map for what she planned to do, only the desire to do things differently, motivated by a man named Jim Rohn. Rohn, for those who are unfamiliar with him, passed away in 2009, but continues to motivate people through videos, books and quotes via a website and fan page on Facebook. He made his first fortune in his early thirties and is considered a trailblazer in the personal development business, having begun g

The first time I saw David Houston perform with String Theory at Luna’s Café, it was the last Saturday in July. Despite the day’s triple digit heat, most of the seats were full, and the energy level was high. Requests were made. Stories were being told around the room and from the stage. From her table in front of the stage, Eva tells me she has seen every performance Houston has given there, beginning in the 1980’s; she commutes in from Cameron Park, that evening with her friend, Susan, also a long-time fan. “David’s probably too humble to say anything,” they are eager to let me know, “But the White Stripes are covering one of his songs.” The previous week, I had my first encounter wit