The heatwave is broken, and I slept quite badly. I had lots of strange dreams, but I only remember one in which I was back in Ohio and the community theatre I founded in 1978 was doing a production of Man of La Mancha. The lead was a high school friend who died about two years ago. At one point I was hanging out in the Middletown Mall and ran into Mildred Rogers, a wonderful lady I worked with 45 years ago. She was in her mid-sixties when I worked with her, and I've always wondered whatever became of her.