As the name would suggest, Hendel House was built, or expanded, by the Hendels (John Hendel—a bank director and hat maker, and then Dr. Charles Hendel—the chairman of Yale University's department of philosophy), then it spent some decades as a church—which is sphincter tightening if you know anything about my philosophy, and eventually it was mine. I have no debts to tradition, nor to historical accuracy, so I may carpet the bedroom in triangle-pink, and perhaps paint the sitting room with Baphomet black, and I might rewrite “Hendel House” as “Hedon House” when referring to the monstrous manor henceforth. (When History hears about the debaucherous parties I’ve thrown here—the Buffy binge watching, the New Wave music at sensible volumes, the gallons of Bret Michaels' Trop-a-Rocka diet Snapple—then History may call it ‘Hedon House’ too.)

If you’re a huge Buffy fan, or a bit of a witch; if you’re a drag queen, a gay, a lesbian, or a gender-fluid transgender seeking fluids (like Bret Michaels' Trop-a-Rocka diet Snapple); if you reject white power but embrace black metal; if Halloween is your Christmas; if you follow Dale Bozzio like others follow Lady Gaga (aka you’re behind in your music taste but otherwise ahead of your time); if you’re an artist and a writer and a customer-service rep living in the Berks County area…send a message, we’d love to meet the most heretical of our new Hedon House neighbors. 

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