Guitars, Indian Motorcycles, Coney Dogs, and Fireflies


Rooster and I went on an adventure to Fort Wayne, Indiana where we experienced Guitars, Indian Motorcycles, Coney Dogs, and Fireflies. #Fort Wayne

Guitars, Indian Motorcycles, Coney Dogs, and Fireflies

Rooster is typically a great adventure planner, but I’m starting to worry about Rooster. For our next excursion, his suggestions ran the gamut from the Lethal Ejection Escape Room Adventure, the Zombie Apocalypse Run, and the One Hour Axe Throwing Experience. None of these suggestions sounded like something I’d be interested in doing on a cold January afternoon. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I came up with an agenda that included four exciting locations in the city of Fort Wayne, Indiana. Thus, begin our adventure filled with Guitars, Indian Motorcycles, Coney Dogs, and Fireflies.

Exploring Fort Wayne, Indiana.

It was sunny when we climbed into the Sunshine Mobile and traveled north. Rooster and I were ready to seize the day as we rolled down Interstate 69. (This is the name of a real highway. There is no sexual connotation suggested here.) The state of Indiana was experiencing one of those freaky 50-degree days we are sometimes gifted within the middle of winter, therefore, leading to the mistaken belief spring has decided to make an early appearance. It’s all a deception. Winter will come back with a vengeance with below zero temperatures, ice two inches thick, and snow drifted up to our windowpane.

We haven’t explored Fort Wayne very often. The times we have been there we’ve been disappointed. I lured Rooster to the city by dangling the new Indian Motorcycle shop I found online as one of the locations we would visit. The drive was pleasant and uneventful. We tuned into an old sixties and seventies music station after I persuaded Rooster to turn off the swing station he was listening to. He’s suddenly taken an interest in that style of music. Like I said before, I’m starting to worry about Rooster.


How the Fort Wayne Museum of Art related to Guitars, Indian Motorcycles, Coney Dogs, and Fireflies.

The first stop we made was the Fort Wayne Museum of Art. They are having an exhibit of guitars from the medieval times to the present.  Some of the most awesome guitars I’ve seen were on display. The decorative carvings covering many of the old guitars’ soundholes were intricate and remarkable. The three most notable ones were the spider and his web, the Crossroads skull head guitar, and the air guitar. The Crossroads guitar was inspired by the blues artist Robert Johnson. Legend has it he sold his soul to the devil for fame and fortune. He is also the blues artist who took Kokomo Arnold’s Sweet Home Kokomo and turned it into Sweet Home Chicago. The song was made famous by The Blues Brothers. Of course, the air guitar showcase was empty.




We wandered through the rest of the exhibits the museum had on display. I enjoyed the section of material created by the Fort Wayne Art School. I wasn’t aware the city was into art the way they are. The paintings and other art forms Rooster found meandering through the gallery made a big impression on him. He was awe-struck with the replicas of automatic weapons made from old typewriters and staplers. I believe the artist was making the point that the pen is mightier than the sword in a modern expression of creativity. Rooster thought the admission fee was a little high, but he said he was inspired by what he saw.


Why the Indian motorcycle shop didn’t live up to the hype.

The Indian motorcycle shop we visited was a letdown. The store was in a strip mall next to the Abate Bingo Hall. It was hard to find. We had to turn around twice before we figured out where to turn into the parking lot. Rooster wanted to give the place a chance. As soon as I walked through the front door, I entered the atmosphere of an old-school motorcycle shop. The disorganized overcrowded motorcycle parts lying in random configurations I associate with this panicle of male dominance existed between these four walls.

The smell of motor oil, testosterone, and man sweat filled my nostrils the second we walked through the door. The white-bearded guy behind the counter greeted us with a hearty hello. The three used Indians they had in the shop were in the back room. By the way, the store didn’t carry riding apparel, consequently, not a single t-shirt with the Indian logo scrolled across it appeared within a 50-mile radius of this store. We didn’t stay long. Rooster was getting hungry which makes him irritable.


How Ft. Wayne’s Famous Coney Island lived up to its reputation.

Our next stop was at Ft. Wayne’s Famous Coney Island. When I read about the tiny dinner online, I had to find out if they lived up to their adverting as the best around. We walked in the rear door of the place and stepped into a blast from the past. Back in the day, my friends and I went to a small hole in the wall restaurant for lunch when we were in high school. The soda fountain style restaurant served these delicious Coney dogs smothered in onions with the perfect touch of mustard.

Ft. Wayne’s Famous.

These delicacies sold at the fantastic price of two for a dollar. When I walked into the restaurant, I was transported back to the early 1970s.  I ate my high school lunch in a similar eatery. The décor and storefront were similar.  I could almost hear the giggles of my girlfriends and smell the food cooking on the grill. By the way, most of our talk while we sat at the counter centered on some teenage boy one of us liked. Ft. Wayne’s Famous Coney Island lived up to its reputation. While visiting the eatery, I devoured the most flavorful hot dogs I’ve had since my high school teen years. img_0968



As we were making our way around the block, Rooster noticed a shop called Stoner’s Fun store. He wanted to go in to see what they had to offer in the form of fun. I agreed we should see what the place had to offer even though a visit would interfere with our appointed agenda.

When I left work on Friday, someone said, “Have fun, but not too much fun.” As a result, I’ve made it my mission in life to find the definition of too much fun. I plan to go on that adventure. The people who own this store are on the right track. They had all the paraphernalia required to undertake the journey of too much fun. Rooster even found himself a new pair of shades.



Our Experience at Firefly Coffee House

Our last stop was the Firefly Coffee House. Rooster ordered a Pumpkin Chai Tea. I decided on the Raspberry Mocha. I don’t know about what Rooster had, but mine was the taste of heaven in a paper cup. We found a seat and started to write. The atmosphere was charming with the colorful overhead Christmas lights and the orange and green walls. The coffee shop got as loud as a red-neck bar on a Saturday night as the afternoon wore on.

Our quiet little corner where we chose to write exploded with the conversation. The table full of giggling girls didn’t help matters. Rooster asked if I wanted to leave. He claimed it was so loud he couldn’t think straight. I persuaded him to stay while I finished typing the first draft of this blog. The outside seating at the Firefly will make it a pleasant great place to spend the afternoon when it opens, however, the shop didn’t accommodate my writing needs during our visit because of the noise level. Rooster and I will continue our search for the perfect writing coffee shop.



A group of young adults found Rooster’s new sunglasses amusing. He wore them all the way home. When we were in Jackson Mississippi, he bought a red clown nose. I was glad he hadn’t stuck that piece of memorabilia in his computer bag for safekeeping. The nose would have found its way to his face to compliment the new glasses. I did notice he removed his new shades when we stopped for gas, and two people on Harleys pulled up to the pump next to us. Like I said before, I’m starting to worry about Rooster. I fear he might be entering his second childhood.



Molly Shea is an accomplished fictional short story writer from Indiana, who writes short stories and novels about a fictional town called Tecumseh.  To read more of her short stories and adventures click here.

Be sure to follow Molly on Twitter!


Published by henhouselady

I am the author of Saving the Hen House. I didn't know when I started it would turn into a series. I love to ride motorcycles, the blues, my family, and going on adventures. This old hen rocks.

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