Rants, Raves & Ramblings

I'm An Angel!

2012-02-01T19:28:00.001-08:00

As if you didn't know that already.
I just finished my shift volunteering for the KCRW membership drive and I became an angel donor. In addition I helped raise over $1300. to keep the programming I love alive and well. Your turn.

Road Trip - California's Gold

2012-01-04T21:48:00.000-08:00

After three years of financial pummeling and fresh off the heels of our remodel, we were cash strapped so a big vacation was out of the question in 2011. Good thing I love to camp. It's a ton of work but ultimately worth the struggle when you cook by firelight and sleep under the stars. September is the best time to travel - I would argue just about anywhere in the world since the weather is generally warm and crowds are gone. After talking with my sister-in-law in Bend, Oregon and learning that they planned to spend the labor day weekend up at Lake Shasta I decided that would be the jumping off point for our holiday. When you're camping for a week you need a lot of gear. We decided to rent a SUV so we could have reliable a/c and iPod plug in to make our trip a little more enjoyable than that my old Jeep could promise. Other than 3 days in Shasta we had no particular plan. Much of the state is scorching hot but the coast can get downright cold so we needed to be prepared for anything.

When we left on Thursday afternoon it was warm but not uncomfortable. By the time we got over the grapevine - a stretch to the south of Bakersfield - it was a wall of heat. I turned on the a/c. Nothing. I turned up the a/c. Nothing. OMG! It was a late summer heat wave and we had no a/c. I called the rental agency and they said we should swap the car out at the nearest airport, which by then was Fresno and another 2 hours away in the blistering heat, making sure they could accommodate our need of a large SUV. One speeding ticket later on some back farm road and they were changing our contract at the rental place only to find out the car they promised had been sold and unavailable for rental. They stuffed us into a much smaller crossover SUV but we had functional and cold a/c. This inconvenient set back put us way behind schedule and we were forced to bed down for the night in the Sacramento area.

It was dark when we pulled off the highway in search of a quaint, affordable spot to sleep. We pulled into the lane way of one place only to be chased off by some nefarious looking fellows. In the next stop Damon met a woman in the lobby who informed him that this part of town, South Sac, was known as hooker row. Onward we go. As luck would have it our next exit in Old Sac was the right one - perfect location, clean room, good value. We crashed after an exhausting day excited to do a little exploring the next day.

Sacramento is the California State Capitol and until this trip I'd only ever driven through on the way to somewhere else so in the few hours we had I wanted to maximize our conquests. Tours of the Capitol are conducted every day of the year. It's brief and informative including a stint in a legislative session for a few minutes. The vicinity surrounding the building is beautiful as well and hosts many shops and restaurants as well as gardens, the Governor's mansion, cathedrals and other government buildings. We spent some time in the Federal Courthouse which has a gorgeous granite "chair" installation in the lobby inscribed with proverbs and anecdotes from various famous and infamous people. Amazing city/river views can be seen from the top floor.

Just a short walk under the railroad tracks toward the river and you're back in time about a century landing in the Old West. Labor Day Weekend is "Gold Rush Days" in Old Sac and tons of dirt is trucked in to line the old streets as do horses, wagons and civil war soldiers. Old Sac was proclaimed a historic site and many of the buildings in the district are original to the gold rush era. The city is set at the convergence of the Sacramento and American rivers and was subjected to routine flooding. In the mid-1800's the city was reconstructed at a higher elevation and today part of the old city can still be seen underground. Even the Capitol was moved to higher ground from its original location. We meandered along the riverwalk awestruck by the vertical lift "Tower Bridge" and up and down the old streets until our whistles needed whetted before heading back on the road. Ten 22 was just the kind of saloon we needed with another 5 hours ahead of us to Lake Shasta at the tippy tippy top of California.

This stretch of CA is pretty boring. It's arid, fairly flat, often windy and putrid given the copious agricultural plots. We pulled up to our campground at Shasta around 6pm and met Daren and the kids at the dock where they were waiting with the boat. It was still about 90 degrees so being on the water was perfectly refreshing. After a little BBQ, I hung my hammock up between two trees and hopped up for beddy-bye under the stars. If the train passing through all night hadn't awoken me I may have been able to bear the cold but it was not to be. Into the tent I went, from the cocoon of my hammock to the cocoon of my down comforter and featherbed. We spent the weekend boating and skiing celebrating the summer.

We set off on Monday morning not having any idea which direction we'd head or where we'd wind up. It was a beautiful lush drive through the mountains as we meandered along the Trinity River which was still flowing wildly from the extraordinary snow fall earlier in the year. And it was hot, dang hot. We found a perfect spot to pull off the highway and take a dip. It was a small but steep hike down the canyon side to the river's edge. I could see how the current was swirling in the eddies at the bend in the river but given the heat it was so inviting. I'm not a strong swimmer so after a moment's contemplation I dove in. I literally lost my breath it was so frigid. The water was moving very fast but I kept close to the edge. Damon, a close relative to the fish, splashed around and played for a long while as I sat on the rocks watching gigantic Steelhead trout and salmon, practically the size of small seals, jump and play right alongside him. It was breathtaking all around.

As adventuresome as traveling without a plan is it can also be a bit harrowing when you don't know the lay of the land. We emerged from the mountains with just enough time for a brief visit in Eureka, the largest of Northern California's coastal towns. We went from 100 degree temps inland to needing our winter coats at the beach. This variance in temperature creates the visibility of pea soup so we didn't get to see much of the rugged coastline. The town sits on the bay and has a devout Victorian architectural influence. I'm pretty sure the prudish era's influence ends there given Humboldt's reputation as Mary Jane's backyard. It is definitely hippy trippy up there and I loved it. Fuel prices were almost $5/gallon and the coffee was about as strong as fuel. We drove awestruck through the Avenue of the Giants (redwood trees) that make up the bulk of the landscape. The late summer light was waning and we still had to set up camp and cook. We found a beautiful remote spot in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. We were one of nine occupied camp sites in a park teeming with vacationers only the night before. And lucky to get in too - they were closing for the season the next day because of state budgetary constraints. The park is in the middle of a forest so dense with redwoods that the sun barely gets through. It's laced with hiking trails of every level of difficulty and terrific amenities including super hot showers. Firewood is for sale on site.

The Shoreline Highway, also known as Hwy 1, is well-traveled by cyclists commanding the 2000 ish mile ride from BC to Baja. We shared this glorious day with them and the cows. And the, double-take, reindeer. A poet I am not but I enjoyed the juxtaposition so here's my rhyme.

By the side of the road Dasher and Dancer roam
Their sleigh and driver nowhere in sight
Under sunny skies and over 5000 miles from home
Majestic beauty before us to our utter surprise and sheer delight

Quaint town after town line the jagged coast and we stopped in just about every one of them. We talked with shopkeepers, travelers and cyclists. At one turn, as our warmth and visibility went from 9 to 2 respectively as we neared the coast, we noticed a few guys in wet suits and what appeared to be weight belts clawing their way up the steep cliff lugging bags behind them. They were reticent to talk to us thinking perhaps we were fish and game wardens since they'd been abalone diving. It is a highly regulated practice and hefty fines are doled out if you breach. They had their "license" (effectively a punch card with hanging chads) and some decent catch. They explained the laws regarding size and quantity limits but also that you can only get what you can get while snorkeling with a weight belt and that you have to use a certain tool and method to extract it from it's habitat. We also learned about preparing them for eating as well which sounds about as laborious as collecting them to begin with. Fascinating. So much so that when we stopped for a picnic lunch at the shore, we collected handfuls of the gorgeous iridescent abalone shells washed up on the beach. We've made jewelry from some pieces.

There's so much to do on the Northern coast - kayaking and whale watching among the most popular activities. We took it a little easier this go around opting instead to visit lighthouses and watch the oodles of sea lions lazily occupying the rocky surf. Each night we had to make sure to secure our accommodations before dark - although we witnessed many who didn't and had to set up in the pitch black. It was positively freezing after the fire died down and the only respite was to go to bed. Your instincts tell you to layer up to keep warm but in reality you're warmer if you strip down and snuggle up naked given our bodies are a toasty 98.6 degrees. Paradoxically, it's a rather strange and vulnerable feeling to be in nature's territory in such a "natural" way.

One day we only clocked 30 miles on the odometer. We had a wedding to attend on the weekend so we couldn't lollygag the way we might otherwise have. I was hoping to make it to Yosemite since Ive never been in the park before but we were still on the other side of the state. We'd been places and seen things we hadn't seen before and were fully relaxed - just as a vacation should be. As we pushed further down the coast night was falling as we came into Sonoma county so we decided to set up camp on the Bodega sand dunes. This was quite a different experience from the other nights in forests among the shelter of trees. Late in the day the fog rolls in thick and misty leaving the soft grainy sand a wet mess. Following a rigorous hike to the beach through this quick sand and dodging deer poop we were enjoying a big, hot blazing fire. As we sat there talking we see a shadowy figure approaching our camp. All evening long we'd spotted bright curious eyes staring at us through the ambers but they were innocuous (deer are abundant throughout the area). This creature was not you're usual expectant masked beggar. No, this was the kind that could put the kibosh on your holiday right quick. Looking for a snack, a skunk was traipsing right through our camp not 2 feet from where we sat. Any startling maneuvers and we most assuredly could have been the recipients of that offensive and most potent of defense odors. Our heartbeats no sooner returned to normal when two more came snooping around. Time for bed.

At sunrise I was still holding out hope for a trek across the state to Yosemite but Damon learned we were just an hour from San Fransisco so it will have to wait. All the ensuing events that followed were kismet and we spent the last night of our holiday in SF (see another post) capping off an incredible week of adventure.

Join the Mile-High Club

2011-12-20T08:55:00.001-08:00

Beginning next year Dutch Airline KLM is introducing a program called Meet 'n Seat which will allow travelers to use social media to check in and choose their seat alongside other passengers based on technology profiles. We've all been on long flights where the person next to you just won't shut up about their grandchildren or some other stupid thing you have no interest in. I myself have drooled on a man I met in Amsterdam and went home with. Rephrase - We traveled stateside on the same plane and I fell asleep on his shoulder only to wake up drooling on him.

Imagine if you could hand select the person you sit with for endless hours of confinement and you actually have something in common. Maybe it's a business connection, maybe a love connection or maybe just interesting conversation to pass the time. Recently on my flight to San Fransisco I sat between two young people and had fun and informative chats with each of them. This union was serendipitous but in the future you won't have to rely on chance.

Below is a synopsis of the offering. Be sure to watch the accompanying video.

http://www.stuff.co.nz/travel/international/6168776/Meet-n-seat-mile-high-matchmaking

Home Away From Home

2011-12-08T11:27:00.001-08:00

I've written about San Fransisco before, not only because it is a place I frequent but because there's so much to write about. In this recount I'm combining the last few visits since I've been remiss. Preliminarily, I want to mention how ecstatic I am that Virgin America is in my neighborhood. This is bar none the best commercial airliner in this galaxy. I first flew them years ago to the UK and wished I made more transatlantic flights just for the superior service. The mood lighting on these sexy planes makes you want to lose your "virginity" to the mile high club.

A stunning masterpiece in its own right, the DeYoung museum curated a collection of masterpieces from Le Musee D'Orsay in Paris, France earlier this year. I had to see it knowing before I go back to France I want to visit Argentina, China, India, Russia, and all the other "ias" and "inas". Post-impressionists en mass and their exorbitant bodies of work were stuffed into the basement crowded with hoards of admirers. The only respite is a pub crawl through North Beach.

The 1st place I ever had my signature sidecar cocktail was at Rose Pistola. And it's still the best, if only for the memorabilia. Too much cheer later and we exit through the back door only to see Tony Nik's right across the street. Comfy, casual, cool. So much so that it garners a repeat the next night with an introduction to the "dark and stormy". But one of our favorite watering holes is the Cafe Meuse run by our friend Eric Meuse. It's a quaint spot on the corner of Hyde and Pacific, on the cable car line, boasting a palatable wine menu, small plates and homemade desserts. The last time we were in town Eric was giving a Chilean wine tasting and many of Damon's old friends turned out to pay a visit. Our friend joshes that he's a rock star on that corner.

Man cannot live on liquor alone so it's lucky that SF is also a culinary mecca. The lobster bisque at Hyde St. Seafood and Raw Bar will leave your head spinning. Their specialty is Dungeness crab and other fresh catch prepared en papillote (cooked in parchment paper). The garlic blossom at Liverpool Lil's in the Marina will render you unapproachable for a week and if you take in the French Onion soup loaded with cheese so will be the toilet bowl. The cheese pizza at North Beach Pizza, sauce and crust perfectly complimentary, soaks up any excess alcohol you may have imbibed. As SF is walkable there are restaurants on every block, many of them exceptional. Bix is one such place downtown in the Financial District. Located in an alley illuminated by only a small sign indicating it's exclusivity, Bix takes you back to another era. Posh art deco decor, decadent continental menu and nightly jazz makes this modern day supper club such a hot spot that reservations well in advance are compulsory.

Years ago some friends introduced us to a Vietnamese restaurant called the Slanted Door which was somewhere out near the Castro. This may have been my first experience with Vietnamese food and it's now one of my favorite genres. They have since moved to the Ferry Building down on the Embarcadero, which has become a popular spot for specialty shops and restaurants. I had never been before so I walked down from Union Square while my friend was working planning on getting some pho. It was a gorgeous afternoon on the bay - warm and only slightly breezy. Boats and ships puttered in the harbor, farmer's were out for market and the place was bustling. With so many choices, Ferry Plaza Wine Merchant being one of them, I opted instead for a glass of California Pinot accompanied by a platter of Cow Girl Creamery cheese and epi baguette from Acme Bread. Oh so delish.

The Occupy San Fransisco encampment was right across the street so I felt obligated to at least walk through it. My first impression was that that these people are NOT the 99%. Not even close. These dirty, dread locked, pot smoking hippie types represent only a small opportunistic fraction of the percentile touting the Fuck Wall Street agenda And Their Washington Cronies too. Admittedly it was the tail end of the national movement but by then the message was diluted (and deluded).

My latest infatuation in San Fransisco is the Kabuki Springs bath house in Japantown, near Pacific Heights. Step inside and be transported. You can feel your heart rate slow and worldly concerns melt away. Strip down - this is not an experience for the modest - and enter the communal relaxation room of slate covered floors, warm teak ceilings, and diffused lighting. Essential aromas envelop and caress you as do the gentle ambient sounds of the ancient orient. Every appointment is perfectly placed and well designed. It's modern, classy and spic 'n span - not dodgy like some other baths. Pots of hot peppermint tea and cool water surrounded by bowls of ice, lemon, cucumber and mint can be spotted throughout the room. An icy dunking pool is strategically placed amid chaise lounge chairs, and jacuzzi at center with sauna and steam rooms on the perimeter of one end, bathing stations and showers on the other completes the space. Zen is a good word in sum.

My friend lives adjacent to Union Square above Cafe Royale and we endearingly refer to it as her living room. Despite the bartender's "I'm too sexy for my shirt" flippant attitude this is a great place to linger over a pint from a decent selection of local micro-brews. Each month various Bay area performing artists entertain. From poetry readings to Jazz quartets there's performance art practically every night of the week behind a gallery wall featuring local artists' works. No cover.

Journaling over a stiff and frothy cappuccino at Cafe Trieste rounds out a nice morning. It's a high traffic coffee house in North Beach and table sharing is common which makes it really convenient for meeting people and finding out what their weekend was like. I love this kind of vibe because you share ideas, discover things you didn't know and voila your next trip is already planned!

Th "G" Spot

2011-11-28T21:28:00.000-08:00

Somehow I got wind that it was going to be a glorious hot weekend out in the desert so I got the idea to spend Thanksgiving weekend in Palm Springs. Of course we do just about everything willy nilly so I started calling around on Tuesday for rooms on Thursday through Sunday. Unexpectedly, everything even remotely close to town for a reasonable rate was booked. I guess people would rather forgo the family drama and give thanks in a more unconventional way. I gave up after calling every boutique hotel in town. On Friday afternoon I was depressed and not looking forward to a slew of chores staring me down at home so we packed our bathing suits and took off, come what may. I figured it'd be a nice road trip even if we had to turn around and come home. Lo and behold, things have changed and there's room at the inn. I'm starting to feel like Jesus, or at least lucky.

The desert is so alluring to me with its dramatic landscape and starry skies I forget that unless you have your own party (which is difficult to rally when you do everything spontaneously) it's dead boring. Palm Springs is literally the G spot - geriatrics and gays galore. Forget impromptu pool side parties. So you end up frying yourself to a crisp in the sun and then going to bed when the sun goes down. Well almost. There are fantastic hiking trails, biking paths and plenty of shopping. It's the mid-century modern furniture and design mecca. We thoroughly enjoyed the restaurants: amazing wood-fired artisan pizzas at Matchbox, grass-fed Venison and farmer's market menu at Zin, and cool cocktails and affordable bites at Lulu. I can effuse with certainty that THE BEST COCKTAIL in recent history is the zintini, made with vodka, cucumber and pineapple juices, topped with mint sprigs and a twist. Yum!

Fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and a warm (half-baked!) friendly staff define The Chase as a low-key, unpretentious alternative to some of the other hotels in the desirable Tennis Club neighborhood - eh hum, The Viceroy. The location is unbeatable if you want to walk downtown and the mountain vistas are incredible shielding the beautiful pool from typical desert winds, although in winter the sun disappears behind them around 3:30 pm.

While not the raucous destination as some other desert towns there's something rejuvenating about this melanoma oasis what with the blistering sun and cool cocktails that always hits the spot. ;)

Firsts

2011-10-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

I've done and seen a lot of things bu not everything. And this weekend I witnessed a couple of fascinating things I'd never seen before.

First first:
I saw the glow of plankton as the waves curled over the shoreline just after sunset. It looks like there's hundreds of blue neon lights under the ocean. It is a phenomonal chemical reaction taking place in the plankton called bioluminescence and it is a sight to behold.

Second first:
I saw pigeons humping. Like copulation in much of the animal kingdom it was a violent act that, although obscured by a bush, drew our attention because of the furious flapping and flattering of wings accompanied by screeching.

Dog Days of Summer

2011-08-28T19:25:00.000-07:00

The remaining days of summer in LA, at least on the westside, are glorious with warm, breezy, cloudless skies. It's lovely to just meander our coastal towns and explore some of the unique and treasured offerings. The Venice canals, once reviled, have been cleaned and preserved by insistent neighbors paying a ghastly penny to live on them. I think the canals are part of the Ballona Wetlands conservancy and home to a multitude of birds such as geese, egrets and herons. Other wildlife species are attracted too like butterflies, lizards, and small fish as a result of the abundant food supply, no doubt. The dirt pedestrian path is maybe a couple of miles round trip from the jetty in Marina del Rey where you can gaze upon million dollar yachts, chartered fishing boats and small sailboat rentals alike cruising out to the open sea. Likewise, you'll pass multimillion dollar mansions and beachy cottages along the edges of a marshy estuary. The history of the canals is sordid beginning with a dream of one man to emulate the legendary Italian canals in this similarly Mediterranean climate but then as funding became scarce and the Beatniks and hippies became enamored with the area it just became overrun with algae and derelicts until the gentrification of the 1990's. Now it truly is one of the hidden LA treasures unifying birders, sun-worshipers and real estate developers. It's just far enough off the beaten track that it's mostly locals and their leashed friends which makes it a really nice experience, presuming you scored parking - not an easy task near the shore in summer. We even snooped around a 6 level house being built that looked like it had an elevator shaft going through the middle of it and then got in the dirt to rub the belly's of a couple of wanton basset hound pups. It's a lovely way to get a little exercise, a little vitamin D and an education in what lurks in your own back yard.

ATT SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

2011-08-27T08:51:00.000-07:00

With great regret my ISP and wireless phone services are both with ATT. I have been a customer for roughly 20 years in one capacity or another. Serious consideration as to my loyalty has come into question as I'm continuously sucked into their vortex of horrific service. I've had spotty internet service for the last 3 weeks and have called as many times to get the issue resolved. I am currently on hold now for 42 minutes and 49 seconds. I keep getting transferred around and told to call back Monday because they cannot locate my account record. I would gladly provide my account number if I could access my email to get it off the electronic statement. Finally after an hour on the line they are dispatching a technician to hopefully correct the problem once and for all.

Mid-day Reset

2011-08-19T17:02:00.000-07:00

Atop a bustling, frenetic Los Angeles rise countless hundreds of hills and canyons, creeks and crevices to which one can easily retreat to find quiet and solitude. Today at lunchtime I left the cacophony of LaLa land behind and took a hike.

Only 15 minutes drive from my office I shed high heels in favor of Keens and started a gentle ascent up Rustic Canyon in the Topanga Canyon State Park. I've decided I'm going to climb Mount Whitney next summer, which is the highest peak in the Continental US at 14, 496 ' so it's going to take some training. While local canyon hikes alone aren't enough to accomplish the job it's a nice respite from work and every little bit of effort counts. In addition to strength conditioning I'm going to have to ramp up my endurance and aerobic threshold. Though gentle enough it was still a climb and had me sporadically winded. I can't say exactly how much distance I covered because I forgot to turn on the nifty pedometer app I just put on my phone but I was walking for 1 1/2 hours. Part of that time was spend descending 504 steps to get to the creek bed. My car was parked at the top and we all know the laws of gravity.

It's amazing what you notice when you step away from the distractions of city life. The first thing that hit me was the fragrance of fennel. That distinctive smell of black licorice mixed with underlying hints of pine and the wet hayish smell of late summer grasses. Simply fresh. Padding along the path, alternating composites of dirt and pavement, I followed the trajectory of butterflies storing up what's left of summers nectar. I swear I was even followed by a lizard because everywhere I turned there it was. I even spotted him or one of his cousins doing push-ups on a tree trunk. I wondered if it was some kind of machismo mating exercise or maybe he was just telling me to buzz off. Other than oodles of song birds the only other noise I could detect was the faint hum of single engine airplanes swooshing the clear sunny sky. The majesty of coast live oak trees high above the path along with welcoming ocean breezes made most of the hike a considerably pleasant one.

I even stumbled upon an old compound no longer inhabited but I read that it was owned by Nazi sympathizers back in the '30's. It was surrounded by 3 layers of barbed wire and hidden behind a crumbling wrought iron and stone gate. Once inside the parameters there was a huge deep concrete cylinder, now gutted, burned out and riddled with graffiti. I was totally creeped out wondering what it was used for and even more so when the wind kicked up and made the eucalyptus trees sway, creaking as if someone was there. Chilling! But even the weirdness is beautiful. And the fact that I only encountered 4 other souls, mountain bikers, was even more blissful.

I realize I've been remiss with keeping up this journal of sorts. I am backlogged with months of material and drafts that I couldn't find the interest to complete. So forgive me if I go backwards in time to catch up now that I've found my voice again.

Terrorists!

2011-02-06T09:26:00.000-08:00

We live in urban Los Angeles but there is a lot of wildlife right in our back yard. We have squirrels which eat out of our hands and respond to the names we've given them. A family of opossums has to been known to set up camp in our neighbor's walk-in closet. Over the years we have been awoken many nights by raccoons playing on our roof or jumping from tree to tree outside the window. It's actually quite amusing and feels like we're living in the wilderness at times. Jackson was always very keen to pesky little intruders onto our property and charged out from a snoring slumber to chase them off. Now that our dutiful watchman has retired the antics have been ramped up.

Frankie, our 7 1/2 year old cat, has a penchant for indoor/outdoor living. (No wonder, it's like a jungle out there!) We used to have a winterized pet door in our bedroom before the new construction started but it was relocated to the garage during the project. Frankie would never use the door and I couldn't figure out why until I observed him one day. It had 2 thick plastic panels so I presume he couldn't smell through both to determine what dangers lurk beyond. As a consequence we've had to replace the access panel with a flimsy flap that he'll use. We also have a little cut out in the door between the garage and the kitchen just big enough for Frankie to fit through - mind you, he's a pretty big cat. Basset Hounds are one dog breed that will eat themselves to death so we could never leave his food down and Frankie's was always elevated so Jackson wouldn't scarf it. Frankie has been eating his food atop Damon's workbench in the garage for his whole life. All aforementioned details aim to set the stage for what happened last night.

We pulled in the garage using the opener and noticed that Frankie's food station was in utter disarray - water and food dishes tipped over - the Tupperware canister storing his food opened and laying in the puddle of water on the floor, the trash can was askew with its bag shredded and hanging half in and half out of the pet door with wet tracks scurrying away from it. Damon grabbed a flashlight to see a gigantic masked rodent hurdling the fence and shooting a perturbed glance our way. I, myself perturbed, cleaned up the mess and brought the food in. Knowing that raccoons are highly adaptable creatures I thought perchance I was making an error. I have no interest in having the cat food inside our house - it's messy and it stinks; a dirty outdoor cat is bad enough let alone having his food and litter inside as well. With that I brought the cat in and we went to bed.

Frankie is a bed hog and I nodded off feeling him nuzzled into my legs restricting any movement not unlike any other night. Some time later I shot straight up in bed hearing an alarming noise. Someone was inside our house! So I shook Damon awake and we lay there listening a moment so we knew what kind of weapon we'd need to combat our perpetrator. I realized Frankie was no longer on the bed and said "oh it's just Frankie having a midnight snack." Damon wasn't satisfied and grabbed the flashlight and headed quietly down the hall. What he saw was a small family of raccoons noshing on Frankie's food in our kitchen! He obviously startled them and one by one they scampered off through the hole in the door.

So here we are strategizing at 3 am about how to outsmart raccoons, which unless you have a gun is no easy feat. I have no intent on killing or trapping the little vermin as our neighborhood is where they've made their home. I imagine the family has outgrown the food supply or perhaps they are simply opportunistic and the temptation was far too great. What I know for sure is that we must coexist. I need the raccoons to remain somewhere on the perimeter of my house and my cat needs to feel comfortable in his environment. If they run into Frankie he will lose that vicious battle. I think he recognizes these odds as evidenced by curious behavior that warned me he knew something had overrun his rule for which he was no match.

We have decided to test the boundaries of nature. Tonight we are leaving a small amount of food in Frankie's dish on the workbench with the lights all ablaze. If the light doesn't deter these nocturnal creatures we'll pick up the food for a few nights and establish a pattern of fruitlessness. Maybe they'll pass us up if there's nothing to steal. When we can decide on the esthetic we'll install a motion light in the backyard which should spook them enough to skidaddle. As a last resort we've learned of a special cat door with RFID collar whereby the cat approaches an electric door and his personalized collar activates a sensor which opens the door securing the notion that only authorized entries allowed. Terrorists be gone.

No tampering and nonsense last night. Fingers crossed.

Goodbye Friend, Teacher, Love of My Life

2010-12-28T19:35:00.000-08:00

Jackson went to heaven tonight. Here's a little poem in memorium.

He is your friend, your partner, your defender, your dog.
You are his life, his love, his leader.
He will be yours, faithful and true, to the last beat of his heart.
You owe it to him to be worthy of such devotion.

I will love and miss him till the last beat of mine.

Big Scare

2010-12-07T11:02:00.001-08:00

As you know Jackson has been living with cancer for at least 18 months. We are fully resigned to the fact that we will lose him to the disease some day sooner than later. We thought that day had arrived over the weekend when he appeared to be knocking on heaven's door. The tumor is growing in his colon which restricts his natural elimination process. We asked the vet how Jackson would let us know that the time has come and he said that he will likely start vomiting. That dog has an iron stomach and has rarely barfed in his whole life so when he threw up 3 times on Friday in conjunction with a couple of days of lethargy and moaning when his belly was rubbed we thought the end was nigh. I picked up some opiates to help ease his pain and administered the pill with his meal on Friday night which he enthusiastically consumed and held down. He had a few hours of deep restful sleep but then was up all night long in and out, back and forth. When we arose Saturday morning he was covered in mud as though he'd been digging- evidenced by the fresh dirt piles in the yard. Was he digging his own grave or tripping out on the meds? His eyes were vacant and he seemed both agitated and withdrawn. We were certain we couldn't put him through another day of suffering and prepared to call doctor death. (The vet will make a house call so he can go to sleep in his favorite spot, the bench seat of Damon's truck, rather than the cold slab of a sterile room.)

Until this week his attitude and behavior was virtually unchanged so it was a little shocking that things could turn so grave so quickly. We had already discussed that as long as he could eat and get belly rubs we would leave him be and take all our queues from him. He loves to "gossip" around the neighborhood and romp with his friends. All of a sudden he started crying in pain and didn't want to walk. Of course he lives to eat so that wasn't a problem but defecating was. He's been nothing but a devoted and loving companion to us so the least we could do for him in return was to let him go gently and peacefully. He is not afraid, has no regrets, no guilt. It appeared as though he was holding on just for us. After a nice long walk on the beach he refused his meal on Saturday night as we prepared to say goodbye. But something made us wait for morning... the tide had turned a little. He voraciously scarfed down his breakfast and demanded a walk. Since then he spends the afternoons lounging in Damon's truck as we stroke him, eats his meals and wags his tail.

Today is Tuesday and he seems to have made a miraculous recovery. I don't want to get my hopes up as I've heard that sometimes there is a brief resurgence in energy before going over the rainbow. But wait! I learned that Jackson had gotten a hold of some raisins last week - one of few human foods HIGHLY TOXIC to dogs. The symptoms he was exhibiting are completely consistent with toxic poisoning. Jackson is a tough little fighter with a obviously strong will to live. He's probably thinking "God, I wish the cancer would hurry up and kill me before my owners do!" - hearken back to the drowning incident of 2 years ago and the swallowed bone last year. We are so undeserving of this precious being but so thankful that he forgives us and wants us to continue rubbing his belly.

SF Redux

2010-11-22T21:10:00.000-08:00

May 2010 - delayed reaction

San Francisco has my heart just like the song says. I have innumerable memories of the place - a place that has been the theater for many of life's joys for me. My Mom loves it too, though her reasons are likely different than mine, but it is a place we love to enjoy together. SF always guarantees an adventure; what with her charming characteristics and interesting characters. Our adventure started when we decided to take the train into the city from the airport. We didn't get in until after 9pm on Friday night so by the time we picked up the train it was getting to be witching hour. All of a sudden a nervously hyper youth barrels through the dividing doors into our car and sits adjacent to us. Moments later another guy follows and pushes his way into the seat next to him. He was highly agitated and launched into some sort of rant addressed to the crowded train. The accompanying string of profanity he spewed was even too much for me to take so I called him on it and let him know that he was out of line. My mom was visibly shaken but I wasn't about to let this little punk intimidate people just trying to get where they're going. After a choice exchange he darted off the train into the night.

I picked a hotel in the mission for it's centrality and cacophany of activity - shopping, museums, restaurants, theater, etc. - Parc 55. It's hip, clean, great city views, and decent service although they cheekily charge for coffee and crumpets sitting out in the lobby looking like it's complimentary. We decided to chill out in the lounge with a night cap before turning in without any specific activity planned for the next day. The weather was quite cool and we were sadly under-dressed most of the time since SF is a wonderful walking city. We woke up in time to get a tour bus to Muir Woods. We've been before but it is so spectacular that repeat visits into the redwood forest are always awe inspiring. I guess my mom took most of the photos of our trip so I'll have to paint a picture with words. Here's a snap of my mom and her "friend" overlooking Tiburon on our way to the woods pictured on the right. It's so hard to capture the beauty and scale in a photo. You really have to wander among the trees to appreciate their magnificence and an entire ecosystem that thrives amongst them and beyond as a result of their existence.

The tour bus stopped in Sausalito that afternoon and we opted to stay awhile and take the ferry back to the city. We weren't starving but needed a little nosh. Noticing a very long line outside a nondescript storefront with a little faded sign that said hamburgers was enough to get our curiosity. We sat in the town square park next to the fountain and shared our fries and one of the best burgers EVER, made to order and served from a rotating grill. We meandered a little, gallery gazing and window shopping in this cute little water town by the bay with stunning SF views. With Lappert's ice cream treat in hand it was time to catch the ferry back to the city.

From where we docked near Pier 39 the Coit Tower stood tall in our sight line under the sun-soaked afternoon. Neither of us had ever been so we agreed to walk up, up, up Telegraph Hill to the art-deco concrete building resembling a fire hose. The tower was constructed in 1933 as a monument to the SF firefighters. From atop the tower you have unobstructed 360 degree views of the entire bay and city to the ocean. It's stunning. Equally stunning and totally unexpected are the murals painted on the walls of the interior rotunda commissioned as part of the New Deal. They depict life and sentiment of the time and are a must see.

Each time my mom and I get together we take in some culture. As our luck would have it every major company in town was on summer hiatus - the ballet, the symphony, the opera - all wrapped. And to add insult to injury the only mainstage theatrical performance in town was that God-awful Wicked. Totally depressing. So we nuzzled up to the concierge and told him of our plight. He handed us a poorly photocopied calendar of events, most of which were past-tense, and way down on the bottom in dark print as though the page had been crinkled was an ad for the Smuin Ballet. The write-up sounded interesting enough but more importantly they were performing on the right day and time and still had tickets available. Literally a few blocks from our hotel in the beautiful Novellus Theater at the Yerba Buena Center for the Performing Arts we entered with no expectation from this dance troupe presenting a program executed in 3 acts. The first was a refined, accomplished classical routine supported by a Mahler recording performed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra. It was lovely - not boring, but not special. And then the seduction began. Strong, edgy, sexy and a positively captivating modern dance experience. The Smuin Ballet, a company I had never even heard of before, is forever on my radar screen and one I will seek out on future visits to SF.

One of the best neighborhoods in the city is, of course, world-famed Chinatown. I'm sure if you ask 10 people what intrigues them about it you'd get 10 different answers. Damon's is the fresh plucked ducks lynched up by their drumsticks hanging in the storefront windows awaiting their fate with the deepfryer but mine is the dim-sum, beating only slightly, though, the myriad roots and mushrooms of every shape and size claiming medicinal properties sure to cure every disease known to man. There are so many restaurants in Chinatown that it's really hard to choose the one that is authentic and fresh and just plain yummy. We set out with a task to get the best dim-sum and ended up at Great Eastern on Jackson. Who knows if it was the best in the city or not but it was darn good and super cheap. I love dim-sum because since I don't speak Chinese it's like Christmas morning opening those little wrapped packages called gao (rice dumpling) or bao (flour bun) to reveal a flavorful, saucy little gem inside (seafood, meat, poultry,vegetables or a combo). We were feeling cocky after effusing over the dishes we'd ordered and thought we should go for something a bit more traditional like chicken claws. Now you'd think they would be deep fried and battered and served with some special sauce or something right? In other words, mask the fact that they're chicken feet. These were slimy barely cooked ligaments and veins and vile little bones doused in a tangy sauce. Yuck! Completely inedible. Good thing the tea flows like water to wash it all away and cleanse the palate.

It was Sunday and we thought perchance we could catch a service at the Grace Cathedral. So we hopped on the cable car (for about 2 blocks - what a rip but it WAS uphill so I suppose it was worth it.) Mass was in progress but they welcomed us in. Afterward we learned that there was a docent guided tour beginning shortly. We toured the beautifully crafted cathedral learning of it's origins and commitment to piety, inclusion, art and beauty. The etched outdoor labyrinth is the first thing you come upon after passing through the meticulously kept lawns. It sets the stage for the stunning "doors of paradise" on the church's threshold. Other incredible features are the numerous stained glass windows with nods to biblical parables as well as modern innovation and science; the murals depicting religious life and works; the pipe organ, the alter which boasts the preaching presences of Rev. Martin Luther King and the Dalai Lama; the neo-classical architecture very nearly matched in the old and new construction; and the Aids chapel among many more gorgeous and symbolic works of art.

This weekend was the "Bay to Breakers" race. It's an annual event 100 years old drawing people from all over the world to celebrate the spirit of San Fransisco in a 12k race from the Embarcadero spanning across the width of the city and culminating in a frenzied party at Golden Gate park. We had already planned to spend the afternoon in Golden Gate at the Japanese Tea Garden and the DeYoung, time permitting. Since it's quite a ways out we decided to take the economical route and ride the bus. It was so busy getting around the city because of traffic that we had to wait for the bus for an hour. And then when we got on it was so crowded with "spirited" B-to-B partiers. We finally made it to the park which was jammed with freaks in pink tutus and lime green cod pieces loopy to the point that my mom was a little nervous walking around even though the place was crawling with cops. I had to remind her that SF is the birthplace of peace and love, man. We braved the bus ride back to the hotel including an encounter with a falling down drunk superhero. Batman was bobbin'.

It was a busy and exhausting weekend and we covered a lot of ground so we decided to have a low key dinner close to the hotel. Turns out one of the best Indian (dot not feather) restaurants in town is directly across the street from the hotel called New Delhi on Ellis St. We celebrated a great weekend and made plans for our morning send off. Whenever I'm in town I love to eat at Dottie's True Blue on Jones. Damon and I have been eating there for 15 years. The frittatas are so amazing it's worth enduring the inevitable line of patrons. It poured rain all morning but we walked down there anyway only to find that the line was an hour long and we were starving and pressed for time. I was annoyed but my mom saved the day by asking the bellhop at the Four Seasons where a good breakfast place was and he recommended the Taylor Street Coffee Shop which was great. A brief wait when we arrived and a long wait when we left so get there early. We had a couple hours before we had to leave town so we spent it shopping in Union Square which is always fun since they have chicest shops and an entire floor at Macy's dedicated to women's shoes. Score.

As usual flying is anything but hassle free. We arrived at SFO and went to the counter to see if we could upgrade since I had some free coupons - probably from the last lousy flight. The gent said the flight was full so no upgrade but since we were a little early and another flight was leaving an hour earlier from a gate 2 doors down did we want on it. Sure, why not? Well I'll tell you why not. Our earlier flight ended up leaving an hour later than our original flight with us sitting on the tarmac for 2 hours. Hence, another free ticket as amends for the inconvenience. Good thing SF is a place I love to return to...agro and all.

Roller Derby Rocks!

2010-09-18T17:57:00.000-07:00

Remember those raucous roller rag chicks of the 70's? Well Roller Derby has had a resurgence in the last few years and the heat is on. The LA Derby Dolls all-star team, The Ri-ettes, met The Iron Curtain from Tuscon Arizona last weekend at the Doll Factory here in Los Angeles. Players like Titty Titty Bang Bang and my fav, Lace N' Arsenic, strap on to throw down the likes of Helen Wheels and Psycho Babble on the famed bank track. Unlike the 1970's games which appeared to be nothing short of that phony baloney wresting nonsense this is a real game with real rules and jam-packed action. My friend and I were lucky to get a spot at the railing to hold on and enjoy the ride. The game (surprisingly) attracts people from all demographics - hipsters, punks, old white men, couples, birthday celebration-ers, and everybody else. It's an awesome representation of how the world's inhabitants should coexist.

All members of the nationwide teams, crews, staff, announcers, doctors, etc. are volunteers. In fact like so many other amateur sports teams the players actually pay dues. And they come up with some pretty funny names. Gori Spelling, # 90210 on her jersey, was befitting for our town. And then there was Laguna Beyatch in the house proppin' for the O.C. The rules of the game are quite simple and clear. In an hour of total play - four 15 minute quarters - each play is called a jam, up to 60 seconds in length as determined by the lead jammer. The blockers, 5 girls from each team, try to prevent the jammers, one from each team from scoring points. Points are scored as the lead jammer, the first girl who gets around the rink once, passes the opposing team's blockers. This particular game was a bloodbath with a final score of 176 (LA) to 85 (Tuscon). In fairness, it was announced that this was the 1st game the Iron Curtain had played on a bank track, so not a bad showing in all consideration. There's a live band at half time out in the parking lot where plenty of gourmet food trucks wait to serve. Beer and wine is sold but bring plenty o' dough 'cause nothing's cheap, except admission ($20). Check it out. From slingshots and body checks to tripping and skidding it's a riotous event of tough chicks slamming each other that won't disappoint.

California Senate Debate '10

2010-09-03T21:23:00.001-07:00

The state of California is in a state of flux. We're broke, can't pass a budget, unemployment is in double digits - 12.2 % as of June 2010 U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics - and it's an election year. My instinctive reaction is to fire every incumbent, as they are obviously incompetent in their jobs and let the new crop give it a go. Up for grabs is the governor's position and the junior senate seat currently occupied by Barbara Boxer, a career politician. She's "served" the people of California since 1993. Her feminist record is one of liberalism and credited with being a stauch leader on many a noteworthy project. However, if you look closely at her voting record she is a spendthrift and given our current state of affairs I would consider this record less of a service than a disservice. At this stage of the game I think fiscal conservatism is in order. It's time to guard the purse and stop squandering the precious little resources we have. Stop regarding business as the enemy and running them out of the state with tax impositions and regulation. We need a level-headed problem solver rather than an idealistic, partisan egoist.

I have always been an independent thinker and have never been registered as anything other than an independent voter though, if labeled, I consider myself socially liberal and fiscally conservative. It's time we install persons to represent our interests with some business acumen. Someone who understands responsibility, accountability and consequences. Boxer has been complicit in all our political crises in recent years simply by being on the role if not her direct vote. I've never warmed to her views so I admit I'm somewhat biased going in but after listening to the debate between her and Carly Fiorina the other night I believe the choice IS clear, as Boxer trumpeted throughout, and that is we should boot the bitch out; her and her 18 years of pandering and let someone with real-world sensibilities reign.

California is one of, if not thee, critical state in the union. What happens here sets the precedent for succession federally, and globally I might add. Plus, as a border state, we have some unique issues. Boxer is just too reckless when it comes to spending frivolity. Check her voting record on the issues that matter to you. I'd rather put my money on the woman who ran a company than the one who helped run California into the ground.

Renovation Nation

2010-08-17T19:28:00.000-07:00

I think it was James Lipton of the actor's studio who asked his guests (famous actors) the question "If you weren't an actor, what job would you love to have? And followed it up with which job would you hate?" I can say unequivocally I would hate to be a general contractor. It's shocking, not to mention maddening, that in this historical time of soaring unemployment and dried up building contracts that I can't get people to call me back. Are you kidding? I'm willing to give you cash money and you can't be bothered to call me back? Overall, it's been an interesting experience. Not as much fun as I'd hoped but we've learned a lot. All of our finish products are purchased and I've very pleased with everything. The space looks great and as soon as the drywall goes up which should be in a couple of weeks it we'll be on the downward slope to the finish line.

Here are a few more pics with the windows and doors in. We installed 15' sliders on both the living room and bedroom walls.

And this is the bedroom and bath with separate shower and tub. The closet is just a big rectangle so I didn't include it but it's big enough to house our washer and dryer in it's own cubby.

Red Leather Pants

2010-07-21T22:39:00.000-07:00

I have always thought Smokey Robinson has the voice of an angel so when I heard that he was playing one of my favorite venues, the Hollywood Bowl, with one of my favorite artists, Lizz Wright, I secured our seats. We try to make it to the iconic Hollywood landmark at least once during the summer and take in it's gorgeous hillside views under the starry, moonlit sky. Like everyone else we bring a picnic basket full of food and wine.

We located our seats and spread out our picnic where we had a perfect sight line of Lizz Wright as she soothed the crowd with some of my favorite songs. My only complaint is that it wasn't long enough but at least Smokey didn't keep us waiting like so many prima donnas do. He has to be methuselah by now but he came out on stage in a shiny black suit adorned on either side by young, sexy go-go dancers. Frankly, they were a cheesy and distracting addition to the performance but I guess a guy has to do what he can to hold onto his youth and reputation as a ladies man. His voice is virtually unchanged from his hayday even bringing me to tears during his heartfelt performance of "Ooo Baby, Baby".

Being the legend he is I would expect nothing else from Smokey than a costume change during the show. Quel surpris, however, when that costume turned out to be RED LEATHER PANTS!!! The only thing worse than go-go sluts accompaniment is a 75 year old dude shuffling across the stage donning red leather pants and a flouncy white blouse, (unless you're Tom Jones of course). An image not to leave my unfortunately vivid mind any time soon. Good thing he can still croon or it surly would have been disastrous.

Cancer sucks

2010-07-21T21:55:00.000-07:00

My beautiful boy dog has been living with cancer for over a year now. He romps around like a puppy and lives for belly rubs, sniffing his friends butts, and eating as much as we'll allow. Over the weekend we noticed that Jackson was having quite a lot of trouble defecating. My greatest fear was realized when we learned that he has a large tumor in the colon preventing proper elimination. We will not be putting him through another surgery especially since the doctor said that given the location of the mass it would be a very difficult surgery and an even more difficult recovery, if at all. We will not tolerate one second of suffering for our sweet lovebug so I just pray that I understand the right moment to send him over the rainbow. For now, you would never know he has a terminal illness. Our hope is that the medication he's on will move everything through his system "like butta" and he'll live comfortably and normally for as long as possible or at least until God decides it's his turn to have all the joy and love and life that we have enjoyed with my furry little friend.

Keeping America Working

2010-07-15T18:54:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've put pen to paper as it were. We've lived in our house 9 years now (9!) and are finally getting around to adding that desperately needed 2nd bathroom. Oh how I've longed for having just few steps to toddle in the middle of the night or the privacy a queen deserves as she contemplates her throne. Over a year ago we secured our funding, hired an architect and started hashing out design plans for a master suite equipped with an en suite bath and walk-in closet. Rather quickly we determined that we weren't going to be able to build how we had always envisioned so the challenge was upon us to get creative. The placement of our new space was Damon's idea and, although the architect presented some interesting plans, I ultimately designed the room myself. With city approval and stamped permits I gave to the go ahead to heave hoe and demolish the bedroom wall that we were building out to gain the extra square footage we need to accommodate the bath. So Damon rounded up neighborhood friends to help out and when I returned home that evening ALL the walls were busted out, not just the ONE we're expanding. I thought Damon had lost his mind so I consulted with our neighbor/contractor/framer/craftsman and he assured me that it was part of the plan. I clearly had no idea how involved this project was going to be. Something to do with a shear wall and steel beams. We aren't even adding a second story and we had to put so much steel in this thing it's solid as a bomb shelter.

Here are a few pictures of our progress. We've been at it since June 14th and I have no idea when we'll finish, assuming we have the money to finish, but it is starting to take shape to the point where we have a sense of the spacial arrangement and a general feeling of what it will be like. We have purchased or at least decided on the finish materials we'll be using, which is supposed to be the fun part but, in all honesty, it's been really difficult (at least for me) to visualize how it will all come together. I'm just hoping that my vision translates as well in reality.

Before: Comfortably living like the Cleavers

Demolition Derby: In and out

I hope the neighbors like the view!

If only Haiti had our building code. Look at all that steel!

Starting to take shape: bedroom in the foreground, bathroom at left rear, closet on the right

What it looks like today

Is Jimmy Hoffa under there?
RIP our savings account. What a nice touch from the concrete guys.

Bye Bye Birdie

2010-06-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

My friends have fledged and moved (or in the process of moving) away :(
Check out these gorgeous images of the owlets
http://mollysbox.wordpress.com/blog/

Hoo's watching me?

2010-04-07T18:35:00.000-07:00

This is so priceless I can't help but share. Follow the link to the owl cam and be amazed and amused. Best reality show ever!!!

http://www.sportsmansparadiseonline.com/Live_Owl_Nest_Box_Cam.html

PETA convert

2010-03-24T21:03:00.000-07:00

I love what the group People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA) stands for but their Nazi antics are sometimes a little much to stomach. The latest hair-raiser, however, is not only a statement of epic gravity it's hilarious. They've offered to relieve Octo-Mom's financial woes and save her house from foreclosure under one condition... that she agree to plant billboard on her front lawn in favor of neutering your pets that reads, "Don't Let Your Dog or Cat Become an Octomom. Always Spay or Neuter."
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!!!!

"Give me liberty, or give me death"

2010-03-23T20:02:00.000-07:00

It was 235 years ago today, incidentally, that Patrick Henry shouted these famous words. I can't help but recall them now on the day that President Obama signed the senate health bill into law. I vehemently believe that all people have a right to quality, affordable health care. Moreover, I believe that freedom overrides all other basic rights and that's exactly what we've sacrificed here today. I don't think people really understand the magnitude of the government intervention that will undoubtedly follow. This is another way for the feds to intrude on our lives. I know it can be argued that without good health liberty is moot and death is eminent. I think a better use of time and tax payer money may be to focus on insurance company abuses and excesses rather than strong-arming the American people - people who do not have a right to MY money.

I have not read through the bill, which I fully intend to do, so I can't comment with authority on what's good and bad about it. What I can comment on is that I think competition is the answer to quality, affordable insurance. When we're in the market for any other product - a fridge, a car, auto insurance, a dentist - we shop around for the best value; the best price, quality, attributes, etc. Competition inspires innovation and commands attention to consumers' demands otherwise you're snuffed out. It also spurs more efficient operations. Being able to buy insurance across state lines is a good place to start. It's absurd that you currently can't! I'm sure there are plenty of stories out there but I personally know a self-employed guy who pays $600/month for insurance with a $1700 annual deductible. He needed an MRI and had not met his deductible for the year. He asked the clerk at Cedars Sinai how much they would be billing the insurance company for the procedure and they said $6000. He then inquired what the price would be if he paid them in cash without going through insurance and they said $700. Of course the insurance company wouldn't have paid the fee that the hospital was asking but let's say they would approve $2500. It was cheaper for him to pay them directly than to have his insurance company bill him $1700 and still pay $800, $100 more than the procedure actually cost. If he had shopped he may have been able to save even more.

Reform is absolutely necessary but maybe we should redefine the function and limitations of health insurance. What I mean is to consider using insurance only for catastrophic events; i.e. hospital visits, surgery, cancer treatment, expensive procedures and drugs, hypothetically. If a doctor's visit cost say $50 rather than $300 for 10 minutes, people may be able to pay out of pocket as opposed to involving the insurance company, thus cutting some of the costs. You could liken this to a door ding you might have dent wizard repair versus going through insurance. Eliminating waste by eliminating the layers between the doctor and patient and the insurance company is another way to significantly reduce costs. Perhaps a concoction of various program elements could be tailored to each individually insured, including health savings accounts. For instance, my employer offers health insurance but they only pay a small portion of the premium and I am responsible for the remainder. Since I do not visit the doctor very often I opt to pay a lower premium each month and a higher annual deductible. The unused portion of my deductible is banked for the next year and rolls over saving me and the insurance company a whole lotta dough.

I also believe focusing on health and wellness and holding people accountable for their own life choices would be a general benefit to us all. If I'm paying any portion of someone's health insurance I want to be able to say they can't smoke, drink soda, go sky-diving or any other lifestyle choice that could tap my pocket-book when they have to use insurance that I'm subsidizing. This is not the kind of totalitarian country I want to live in and yes, personal freedom, choice and, consequently, responsibility is the baseline of being American and for me the most important right above all else.

Gotta give to get

2010-03-10T19:14:00.000-08:00

I'm pleased to report that so many people are socially conscious these days and creating all kinds of things out of their love for mother earth and all things recyclable and selfless. I came upon this cool site Echoage, a birthday party invitation outfit with a twist. While I do not have children I have been to many a party where obscene amounts of gifts are lavished on children who have enough toys for lifetimes of children. Echoage has partnered with a number of national charities which would appeal to kids and the idea is that your birthday kid chooses one he or she would like to give a gift to. Echoage helps you choose your party date, an invitation and reminders and then sends them out to all your invitees who log on to donate an amount of their choosing toward your kid's birthday gift. After a nominal fee is deducted 50% of the raised funds go toward one gift for the birthday kid and the other 1/2 is donated to the charity of the child's choosing. A tax receipt is provided for the charitable gift and the kid gets one good thing he's been coveting with the aggregate dollars chipped in rather than a bunch of chotchkies. It is a wonderful opportunity to teach your kids about sharing what you have with others.

"When I think about you I touch myself"

2010-03-07T15:33:00.000-08:00

The Korean spa experience, of course. We have a large Korean population in Los Angeles thus warranting a section of town devoted to the heritage, aptly named Koreatown. For years I've heard of a cultural bathing ritual and been curious to indulge myself at one of their spas. I generally don't mind doing things alone but I suppose I felt a little intimidated and wanted the comfort and familiarity of a friend. The difficulty in finding such a companion is that no bathing suits are allowed in a Korean spa. Yes, you and everyone else, all females, parade around in the nude. I have never been overly modest and vanity was a thing of the 1st quarter century of my life. But, not everyone is like me. Many people have serious body and/or modesty issues which I fully appreciate and respect. Admittedly it takes some getting used to to expose yourself to anyone let alone strangers. Luckily I have a friend who is as adventurous as me.

Our appointment for the "Goddess Treatment" was set for 10:30am. They suggest you arrive 45 minutes before your appointment in order to enjoy a whirlpool bath, steam and sauna. I arrived ahead of my friend so they whisked me in so as not to miss a moment. As this was my first visit they gave me a little orientation tour. Shoes in one locker, clothing in another. You will be
addressed as needed by your locker number, it is considered impolite not to shower before using the facilities and (thankfully) here's your smock. So I got myself situated wrapped in my little cover up and went off to the showers. The "bathhouse" is arranged with a hot mugwort tea bath on the left and another mineral pool beside it. On the right is an open room with 6 massage tables and a wall just high enough to give the impression that it's semi-private from the baths. Showers, a jade steam room and mineral sauna round out the perimeter of the room. Adjacent the pools is a shallow kind of trough filled with water and tiled edges. As I emerged from the shower and contemplating where to go first I caught a glimpse of what I will henceforward refer to as the monkeys. The monkeys are four aged Korean women sitting on the edge of the trough with a little tote in front of them which cradles their bathing paraphernalia. They intricately scrubbed every nook and cranny as they chatted and howled without awkwardness. I had a hard time averting my eyes because it seemed so social and natural and utterly disturbing as a Westerner where privacy prevails.

Then I moved into the jade steam room where I could only sit for about 5 minutes before I thought I'd melt. I decided it must be getting close to the time when Cindy would be arriving so I moved out into the common area where there is a heated jade stone floor for sitting and relaxing. I grabbed my library book (Stones into Schools - see another post for details) and found a spot on the floor. The experience with the monkeys left me feeling a little squeamish and wondering if this was going to pan out. I was certain that we goddesses would be on display in the room with all the massage tables. I was leery but what I immediately liked about his spa was its lacking pretentiousness. The Korean women invited us to participate and indulge in a special cultural tradition and I felt grateful. I could tell Cindy was equally uncomfortable when we entered the mugwort tea bath. By this time it was getting busy so we were practically touching other naked women in the tub. This is the antithesis of the American spa experience where it's all about you, to which we are both accustomed. We decided to try out the charcoal heated sauna. It has teak tatami-type mats that get so hot you can't walk on them and we couldn't talk but otherwise it was really nice. Number 19 was called so I was up for my treatment.

The "Goddess", exclusive to the Olympic Spa, is a treatment almost 2 hours in length and designed to renew. A short, blubbery Korean woman dressed in a scant black bra and panties uniform greeted and escorted me to the open massage room. Fluorescent overhead lighting and the echos of cackling women permeated the room as I was lead to the table covered in floral vinyl and ordered to slip off the smock and lie face down. I was cold, exposed and regretful - I'd already paid my money. And then it came. The glorious feeling of warm water doused over me from bowls resembling bed pans. Jung, the masseuse, then started scrubbing. I was praying that one of the monkeys hadn't hurled her scouring pad over the wall. Initially it felt like she was using steel wool on my rough, sun damaged, 40 something year old body. She scrubbed every little crease and fold until the upper dermis of my skin was lying on the table next to me. YUCK!!! Twenty minutes later more water and a slap on the butt cheek...time to turn over. So there I am, in all my full frontal nude glory, with a napkin over my eyes and Jung's blubber suffocating me. And let me just say that it was bliss. I did not feel pampered. I was not the only woman in the room. But I was getting my money's worth. Jung was working her fat sausages for fingers to the bone and this was exactly what I needed. When the front of me was done she squeezed some cleanser in my hands and told me to lather it into my face and go rinse off in the shower. I paraded out into the bath house with neither a stitch nor a shred of self consciousness.

A gorgeous, silky oil with the fragrance of meyer lemon was smoothed all over my back side with long, firm strokes as Jung laid her body over mine to reach to my feet. I have never had a more thorough massage. I am a harsh critic and very disappointed if my expectations aren't met. This little woman clawed at my muscles with such determination as if to pull every fiber apart and make them supple again. There were moments where I wondered if we'd ever tortured the Koreans during the war 'cause it felt a little like payback. On the flip side a luxurious emollient was applied to my face to wake it up for the cool mud mask that was painted on with the touch of an artist. She finished massaging my limbs, boobs and inner thigh as she cocked my leg to side for easy access. I was very happy she didn't have a speculum. She massaged by scalp with aromatic essential oils before washing and conditioning my hair and slathering a glistening cream to my renewed skin.
AHHHH!!!!!!!

Jung re-wrapped me in my sheath and sent my wobbly body back out onto the jade floor with radiant heating and a cup of tea where I caressed myself (I haven't been this soft since infancy!) while waiting for Cindy to share our experiences before heading off to a Korean lunch. We decided that our preliminary assessments were borne of a lack of cultural reference. We individualistic and private Americans do not have these types of social customs as other cultures do. I have to reiterate how grateful I am to live in a place where ethnic diversity abounds and I get the opportunity to sample it whenever I want.

My radio station, my friend

2010-02-19T18:11:00.001-08:00

I am a subscriber and huge fan of KCRW, a local radio station that is my mecca for cultural affairs, my news source and wellspring for new music. It is on these airwaves that I learned of Daniel Merriweather, an Aussie singer from down under with haunting, soul-revealing pipes. I've noticed that Australia tourism has been ramping up efforts to get people into the country as evidenced by all the bulletin boards around town. As part of the campaign KCRW hosted a private, intimate concert for members with Daniel Merriweather on the rooftop of the Paley Center for Media in Beverly Hills. It was a Saturday afternoon, one of those awesome LA winter days where large white clouds hang like cotton candy on a brilliant blue background in the crispy air. We entered the Paley center, which was adorned with slideshows depicting Australia's beauty and loads of tourism propaganda and headed for the rooftop. There was a host bar offering flights of Australian wine and gorgeous woman serving equally gorgeous hors d'oeuvres. As the sun gave rise to the moon and twilight turned the sky that stunning shade of mauve and charcoal with the Hollywood hills as the backdrop, the artist took the stage.

This kid is sooo easy on the eyes! His persona nods to a bygone era with a chivalry and irreverence about him all at once. When he opens his mouth he is well spoken, funny and real. And when he sings he manages to let you see inside his soul. His voice is sultry even a bit rasp and he sings with a maturity that not many his age can or do. His band consisted of a female bassist, and lead guitar player who totally rocked it, a lounge lizard looking guy in a bow tie on keyboard and a youngster working his arse off on drums. The band is super tight and the singer sings sweet melodic songs about social consciousness, love and war, incidentally the name of his newly released released lp which I encourage you to run out and purchase. He does a very cool cover of the The Smith's Stop Me worth listening to.

After an hour long concert my boyfriend, Daniel, was briskly whisked away as if he were a superstar - presumably another gig - so we finished up our refreshments before heading to dinner. From Australia to Russia all in one night. We ate at a delicious Russian restaurant in LA and sampled the garlic infused Vodka toasting a lovely, eclectic afternoon.

Trapeze School?

2010-02-19T17:29:00.000-08:00

I have the greatest, most thoughtful and generous friend in the world. We have shared innumerable amazing moments together from sky-diving to birthing her children. We fulfilled childhood dreams of going to Africa and now she's topped even herself by taking me flying.... trapeze flying!

Flight school is held on the Santa Monica Pier 7 days a week for 2 hours each session. After signing your life away and listening to a few rules the staff of really personable people - Ryan especially - go through some brief simulations on the ground. It's a lot to take in so he does a demonstration so you can visualize what to do in the air. When it's your turn you scale the ladder to a platform 20+ feet in the air. I was surprised at how heavy the bar actually is and jumping off the 1st time is a little nerve-racking. The trick we were supposed to do was to put our knees over the bar like we did on playground monkey bars as kids and swing until you are told to land. But since I am so challenged I could never quite make that happen. Since childhood I have struggled athletically. I will try anything but I'm usually lousy at everything. It's probably really easy but I could never lift my legs in unison at the right time to capitalize on the momentum of the swing and get them over the bar. There are instructors shouting commands throughout to help with that timing but I'm a tard. Depending on how many pupils in class determines how many chances you get to try. The capstone flight is one where you take what you've learned and leap through the air to the arms of a catcher on another trapeze. What fun, right?

Even considering the fact that I missed most of what I was supposed to do I had a blast and will try again until I get that maneuver down and can actually call myself a flyer. This is a highly rated activity on the fun scale.

UnBELIZEable !!!

2009-11-26T09:01:00.000-08:00

For those of you familiar with the Caribbean you know that it's hard to find picturesque scenes like that anywhere else. Clear azure water in shades of sapphire and turquoise laden with a kaleidoscope of colorful fish make this tropical vacation paradise. Twelve hours riding in autos, planes, trains and vessels lands you in San Pedro, Ambergris (Am-BER- griss) Caye, the largest of 200ish islands off the coast of Belize. You have to fly - at least from LA - to Belize City and then take a little prop plane over to the island. Its only about 15 minutes but all the while you can see fish popping out of the water and the 2nd largest reef in the world. The air is warm and breezy and the skies are clear.

I met family at the small air strip where we waited quite a while at the taxi stand. The roads in San Pedro aren't paved and most people travel by bicycle, motor bike (mopeds), golf cart or on foot. There are very few cars, in fact only the taxis. It is busy and chaotic downtown and since the roads are dirt and the rain is abundant you can image the potholes! It wasn't too far to the dock where the ferry awaits but they close the roads to cars on the weekends to make it safe for pedestrians and we had to take the back streets. This alone was an adventure dodging people, bikes, and dogs.

The ferry ride to Captain Morgan's resort is about 15 minutes from town. By now it was pitch black making each of the billions of stars visible to the naked eye and other boats nearly impossible. In fact, there was a fatal water taxi accident the same night I arrived probably minutes after we passed by. C.M. is the location of one of those lame, debaucherous reality shows. It is also rumored that Tiger Woods has his own golf course on the island. Stepping off the boat onto the dock you just immediately relax as you meander through the sparingly cleared coconut palm groves over sandy, moonlit paths. The accommodations are well-appointed (flat screen and wi-fi) yet beachy with tile floors, thatched roofs and a colorful mix of Mexican influence. The kitchen serves up mostly local seafood like conch but some local flavors are featured too like jerk chicken. The local beer is a delicious and light refreshing lager called Belikin. There is a nightlife on A.C. if you desire it but we were more interested in watching the sun rise over the eastern horizon which happens right around 5am. It's blazing hot by 7 am so the cool air of the early morning is welcome.

I can only describe this place as seeming like it's the end of the world. The expanse of blue skies and inviting blue sea calls to you from the lanai overlooking the swim-up bar. This morning we set out to collect sea shells. The best part is you actually can allowing me to reminisce of Southern California in the 70's. We found lots of unique shells and coral in the bath-like water at the shoreline before setting off with a guide for the afternoon to snorkel and catch dinner. He picked us up on the dock and we went miles out just shy of the reef and dropped anchor. Jumping into the water was like falling through a rabbit hole into another world. I've been snorkeling before but this was an extraordinary experience. Stingrays and nurse sharks are abundant as are psychedelic fish of every size, shape, color, stripe, polka dot, stripes with polka dots - you get the drift. We saw the deadliest fish in Belize and even a sea cucumber (I've never even heard of that). Other interesting sightings include the spotted lobster (prolific, and popular fishing) and lion fish. It was so beautiful and peaceful and since I have an underwater camera I videoed a few minutes of the experience. It was on this trip that I wish I could dive and fully intend to learn some day. Diving in Belize is supposed to be some of the best viewing in the world. Swimming with these gracious animals and just gazing upon the brilliant coral reef was really incredible but we had to catch dinner so we replaced our masks for poles and sped off to a spot where we could hunt snapper and yellow fin.

Fishing is a mainstay in Belize and a big draw for tourists (particularly lobster fishing) but we didn't have the greatest luck this day. It was late in the afternoon and they just weren't biting. Kylie was the big winner of the day catching 3 edible fish and I caught the largest of the day but only one. Our dinner was much more sparse than we had counted on but it was a lot of fun trying. John filleted the fish on board for us while the sea birds stalked overhead. Physical activity, sun and endless days take a lot out of you by sundown so collapsing is almost a rule.

The next morning we took the resort's bicycles into town for some homemade coconut ice cream at Manelli's. The 4 mile one way trip is is made - ideally before it gets blazing hot - on the hard pack sand "highway" running adjacent the beach. This is the road the locals use to go back and forth to work on the resorts from San Pedro. There was a slight breeze at our backs pushing us through the powder white sand under the low hanging palms at water's edge as other resorts and private residences recede in our wake. At the edge of town the sandy road ends so we cross into the back roads and bump and warble over the pot holes along the lagoon surrounded by brightly colored condos before crossing over a toll bridge. The recently constructed bridge hovers over a recent hurricane created river and promises a bustling center town. Since tourism is a primary industry artisans line up there goods in the town square. Jewelry and wood carvings are among the most popular items. I purchased a zericote wood carving that was lovingly honed and sanded many times over before applying a protective coat of beeswax for sheen. It was here that I met Capine. I first noticed him riding a bike while I was chatting with some young school children. Capine is a very special and talented cyclist riding the handlebars with confidence and ease. What's so interesting about Capine is that he is a RACOON! I have never seen such a thing. He is a gentle and friendly beast who let me pet him and even took the money out of my hand. We made a couple detours to the market for some fresh and relatively inexpensive food before grabbing a Mojito for the ride back. A refreshing dive in the pool upon return was critical to beat the afternoon humidity.

Relaxing this afternoon poolside with pantie rippers (rum and pineapple juice) was the perfect prelude to an intoxicating conversation with Joe. I met Joe when I wandered down to the beach to have a few minutes away from the chatter of New Yorkers. Local Joe was propped up by a tree with a backpack full of hand carved goodies. He hobbled over to my chaise and collapsed on the one next to me winded from the 10 foot walk dragging his leg behind him. Joe walked with a severe limp and pronounced himself a craftsman and herbal healer. He pridefully extracted each of his art pieces from the bag one by one and shared the story behind each one telling me of how he went deep into the rainforest to find the perfect logs, some weighing 200 pounds, and his painstaking effort to get them home. He described the labor-intensive process of of chiseling and carving and sanding over and over to achieve the perfect piece. He also told me of the moon's role and how important it is to cut the wood between 3 days before and after a full moon and the wood will last over 70 years. He said it was the same for the thatched roof construction; if cut in keeping with the moon's cycle it will withstand hurricanes. I learned that the national flower is the black orchid; the bird is the toucan; tree is mahogany; and the fish is the angel fish. He was a wealth of information and fascinating to talk to. After a while I felt comfortable enough to ask what happened to his leg. He said he had been the first child on the island to have contracted polio. Later we learned that he told someone else a tree fell on his leg in the forest. So now I feel as though any unverifiable thing we discussed is b.s. The world is full of characters.

The evening ushered in a beautiful breeze so we took to the beach volleyball court with some of the local kids. The kids live in the neighborhood behind the resort and they are very sweet and respectful so the resort staff allow them to hang around and fraternize with the guests. My niece and nephew have basically grown up with them over the last 5 years and look forward to playing with them each year. Two of the kids were sent home from school early today - one of them blew out his shoes and the other his pants. It is a strictly enforced policy that children have shoes and proper attire in school. The mosquitoes made us forfeit the volleyball game at sundown. It was Belizean Culture night at Captain's. We decided to forgo the festivities which were rather lame and walked the shoreline instead. The sky was especially clear and the stars were innumerable and gazing on them is magic. Sadly in order to enjoy the beautiful balmy nights around here you'd better balm up on the bug repellent.

I awoke to see the sun rise up over the horizon but found the blood letting from the bugs at that hour just not worth siting outside so I moved indoors and watched from the bed with my steaming cup of delicious Belizean coffee and homemade fig and coconut muffins. Not quite the same but gorgeous anyhow to watch the sun's rapid ascent over the Northern Hemisphere. Today we're adventuring to Caye Caulker, another nearby island. It's a very Jamaican inspired, relaxed, bohemian, artsy vibe on Caye Caulker and I absolutely loved it. The island is walkable from end to end. We meandered around the center of town for a bit seeing the health office/post office/library building across from the grocery/hardware/sell everything department store. A golf cart taxi driver offered us a cheap ride to "the split" so we took it. The split is a cut in the island made by a wicked hurricane in the 60's. There is a cabana style bar there - and not much else - surrounded by a decimated cement wall, great for diving into the crystal clear water and coupling as a protective environment for oodles of fish. A weathered old captain had docked his large sailboat next to the bar and I forget the woman's name the vessel was named after, Lucille or something, but it had Seattle, WA painted on it. So I climbed aboard to discover what the trip was like from Washington State on the Pacific coast and how he got to the Caribbean. I was expecting an Ernest Hemingway tale but the guy was a honest to goodness dud saying he had purchased the boat from Florida and sailed from there. We rented snorkels from him and spent the day snorkeling, swimming, sunning and indulging the bartenders creative whims. An Oregon ex-pat was walking around selling homemade pizza which was literally one of the best I've ever had. Since food is so expensive and fresh food not readily available you have to get quite creative and she did. Yum! A French man traveling through Mexico and Central & South America, Jean Luc, was pleasant company at the bar and listening to him recount his adventures was fun. He was perturbed at the fact that the bartender wasn't serving coffee. Later, we sauntered back into town to catch the ferry back to San Pedro stopping to chat with many friendly and beautiful families. Time ain't nothing but a thang on the islands and our ferry arrived well past it's schedule. The resort has their own shuttle service to and from town but again it's spotty and not terribly reliable so when we finally made it to San Pedro we had to wait over 2 hours for the water taxi back to the resort. A storm was blowing in and it was getting rather cool on our sunburned bodies. It was a wonderfully relaxing day and should I return to Belize I will definitely spend some lazy days on Caye Caulker eating conch ceviche and jammin' to reggae beats at the split.

One of the things I was looking forward to doing was zip-lining in the rainforest. This excursion is rather expensive though and my family had already done it so I'll need to make sure to do that next time before leaving Belize City. I also learned about cave tubing for which apparently you strap on a miner's light and cruise down the river into pitch dark caves. Thrilling! I didn't know until the day I left (Friday) that they have tours leaving from the resort on Thursdays to do these activities. I wish I had because we just hung around C.M. on Thursday anyway. It's nice to offset fun-filled days with relaxing ones especially since the sun and heat can zap your energy.The weather was slightly inclement on Thursday and we decided to just mellow out on the beach and explore some of the surrounding area and local creatures. Lizards are the size of dogs around here and they hang out everywhere. All day is happy hour so sea breeze in hand I listened to the birds squawk overhead and the palm fronds rustle with the wind as schools of fish dart around our toes in the gentle surf. This was the type of holiday where it seems to go on and on. I was in Belize for 4 full days and it felt like 3 weeks! Bliss. Later we decided to venture down the beach for a nice meal. We ended up at a beautiful spot and dined under the blanket of stars having the island version of paella and a yummy glass of wine. It was a gorgeous night although rather windy and a lovely stroll down the beach worked off our meal. A night cap at the resort as the live entertainment was winding down was a good ending.

Well it's my last day but I didn't have to book until 2pm to take the ferry to meet the cab for the airport. We'd been waiting for the opportune time to take the catamaran out but the wind just wasn't cooperating. This morning our luck changed... sort of. So the Griswalds all take our positions on the rig docked at the shore and Dave pushes while running through the slimy reeds operating the sails and trying to get behind the wind. The wind pushed us right into the dock. We all got off, drug the cat through the slime, found the wind and crashed into the dock. And repeat. By the 3rd time the staff came charging over to save their expensive catamaran and told us that the expert would be right over. You could feel the pity coming at us as he agreed to commandier the thing and take us for a ride - although we lost 2 of our passengers to disgust. Wow! It was so fun. He took us out by the reef where the water was a little bit rough and wavy for over an hour. He told us all kinds of stories about hurricanes, the moon and the island in general. By the time we returned I had to rush. You never know what customs and immigration will be like in 3rd world places so I had to hang around the airport for hours but this is where I discovered plantain chips. OMG they're delish rounding out the many wonderful memories I have about Belize. I hope I will return someday to explore the mainland and delve into the history of an incredibly beautiful place.

Did I mention I like to travel?

2009-11-11T21:34:00.000-08:00

In fact, I LIVE to travel.
I leave Sunday for Ambergris Caye, Belize.
Just bought a waterproof camera...
I'll keep you posted.

Artsy Ventura

2009-10-29T19:21:00.000-07:00

Living on the pacific coast with over 800 miles of coastline in California makes for a lot of seaside towns. Each one offers something unique and charming in it's own right giving us lots of opportunity for exploration. It's a daunting task to visit them all but not impossible. Believe it or not we had never stopped to visit Ventura on any of our many trips up north. I read in the paper that Ventura was to host their annual art walk last weekend so off we went on Sunday. We arrived just about noon as the morning marine layer was rising from it's slumber over this quaint little town. Sure, Ventura is sprawling like every other southland town but the downtown area is a well-preserved slice of days gone by, flanked at either end with gorgeous parks and nestled in by the beach to the west and a stunning hilltop City Hall in the Beaux Arts architecture to the east.

We started the day at the Savory Cafe & Bakery. The ambiance itself could be described as sort of old world European furnished with antiques and other warm touches mashed with a laid back beachy vibe in an indoor-outdoor California style. We shared a large Tuscan table in the middle of the restaurant with other folks where they offer, amongst other savory dishes, create-your-own crepes with a litany of ingredients to choose from - I picked prosciutto, basil, caramelized garlic, and gruyere - and it was delish. Hand-cut pommes frites with a creamy garlic dipping sauce is sure to tantalize your palate.

As usual we didn't plan very well but it was all new and interesting to us so we just meandered around as we fancied. The Art Walk features stone-workers but other works like glass, paintings, photography, iron works, jewelry, wood-work and more were on display as well. Many of the downtown merchants use their shops and showrooms to host the artists' work and others open their studios for the event. There's a thrift store or antique mall on each block and Damon hit them all. It was late in the day when I decided to venture off on my own to discover the "art".

My favorite thing was a trio of metal works in a roots & branches nature series. At $1500.00 it was more than I was willing to invest at this time in history but I covet the simplistic design yet painstaking execution of the metal worker. I was also drawn to various stone carvings made from California materials in organic shapes. A wood carver was showing exquisite boxes he'd made from a variety of local woods beautifully constructed with precision. It was a wonderful day discovering new artists and another lovely California beach town.

Crisp, Clean, Green - Chicago!

2009-10-12T19:19:00.001-07:00

I had the welcomed opportunity to visit Chicago to celebrate my dad's University graduation held at Navy Pier. I had been before many years ago and couldn't wait to return. But with so many places I haven't been and wish to go repeat visits require a compelling excuse.

A friend recommended a fantastic hotel in a perfect location right on the river at the Southern end of the Magnificent Mile. Vistas of the newly built Trump Tower and historic Wrigley and Chicago Tribune buildings filled the sight line from our room's window. As a destination city weekends are very busy and this was no exception since Chicago was hosting the marathon, one of the biggest worldwide because they do not limit the number of entrants. There were 45,000 runners just adjacent our hotel so we awoke to cheers audible 28 stories in the sky as they passed. And it seemed like every one of them was trying to get atop the (former) Sears Tower on the day that I was! Consequently, I didn't wait the 2 hours it would have been to view the city and Lake Michigan from the glass floor sky deck of the newly named Willis Building.

Unfortunately I arrived in Chitown with the flu. As the weekend progressed so did my cold. What misery being in a gastronomic mecca like Chicago with no taste buds! I did pig out on Chicago style pizza though and boy does it live up to its reputation. My dad wanted to see Jersey Boys, the musical story of the Four Seasons that's gaining accolades nationwide. In general I hate musicals but since the weekend was devoted to my dad I begrudgingly went along. The story itself was not captivating but the music was fantastic. Those songs were the soundtrack of my youth and it really took me down memory lane. The lead playing Frankie Valli was a replica of his distinctive, signature high-pitched voice.

The highlight of the weekend for me was the river architecture tour. It was a frigid 31 degrees on the uncovered vessel. Traveling along the Chicago river the guide gives a history of the skyscrapers that loom over the city putting into context the building, the era and the architect and the relationship they share with Chicago. It was a gorgeous sunny day, albeit cold, in this lovely lakeside town so my brother and I decided to venture down to museum park and visit the Aquarium. I thought it was a complete rip off, besides the fact that I have a problem with wild life held in captivity after having been in the wild. But we had an adventure anyway, met some really nice people and saw first hand why Chicago is considered one of the greenest cities in America.

Chicago has a public transportation system that's both efficient and effective- the metro, the "L" trains, buses and cabs - all reduce the carbon footprint in a city of nearly 3 million. In addition it takes top marks for being the best biking city in the US. Miles of lakefront bike paths equipped with bicycle cafes, repair centers, parking spaces, etc. really encourage this mode of transport/sport/exercise. One of the most obvious things I noticed was the flushers on toilets - up for water waste, down for solid - really cutting down on the amount of water used.

While I didn't get to do everything I wanted in Chicago, no matter what you do it's a good time in this vibrant, energetic city warmed by old fashioned mid-western hospitality.

Gross Polluter?

2009-09-29T18:21:00.000-07:00

Have no fear Carbon Offset Kiosks coming soon to an airport near you to rescue you from the guilt of flying and leaving all that carbon emission in the atmosphere!

So what are you actually buying? You get a piece of paper that describes an offset project purportedly sanctified by the city as "real, quantifiable, and permanent greenhouse gas reductions". According to an environmental lawyer it's better than nothing, for awareness generation alone, but is unsure about the validity or value of the purchase. The kiosks cost $200,000 to install and are currently operating out of SFO where they charge about $34 per passenger for a 6000 mile trip, roughly 6 cents per mile. It has been reported, however, that San Francisco is charging 60 times the actual cost of the offset with a portion of the proceeds feeding the San Fransisco Carbon Fund.

The way I see it not traveling creates other environmental strains. What's next?

Step Forward Day

2009-09-12T23:01:00.000-07:00

In memoriam for the victims of September 11th that day is a nationally recognized day of service. The alumni association at Pepperdine University is actively involved in community improvement efforts and encourages all alum to participate. When I heard that my local chapter had partnered with Habitat for Humanity I was eager to sign up and see what the organization is all about. I confess, my volunteerism is auxiliary to my charitable giving and as a consequence I am not very well versed on the inner workings of many do-good-er operations. My favorite and most trusted organization, IMC, reduces me to a fund raiser and donor, since my skill set does not include that of a trained medical professional so I have to seek out other groups to volunteer with locally.

I have heard good things about Habitat. Their main mission, and a bold one, is to eradicate homelessness and poverty housing worldwide. Candidates are chosen on a need basis although the criteria is unclear. This is accomplished by offering a couple of different models. The overarching one that most people identify with is the new build whereby candidates make a nominal monetary investment and a whole lot of sweat equity in exchange for a interest-free 30 year mortgage. Building materials and supplies are donated as is the labor involved in the construction project. A program called A Brush With Kindness is a way to partner with community members to improve existing homes for those families in need.

Our project today was A Brush With Kindness in a Los Angeles residence. Like I said the selection process seems a little ambiguous and I am trying to refrain from being judgmental in any way but I was a little more than miffed about this particular project. The homeowner is an elderly lady who has owned the home for 23 year years. The house is a spacious, well-kept Spanish style with signature tile roof and original wood-frame paned windows. The Habitat staff made a big deal about how she works with seniors in her retirement. To me, it seems like an unbalanced pay back for contributions she's made to her community to have a collective of 15-20 volunteers from Habitat for Humanity, Americorps, and Pepperdine University repaint the exterior of the house while 2 able bodied young men sat watching football all day.

I hate myself for having these feelings and am sure I'm going straight to hell but how do I sign on for a such a gift? My house, certainly the landscaping, leaves much more to be desired than this so called needy homeowner. The saddest part is that most of this woman's neighbors could have benefited from the help offered by this organization. Many of the surrounding homes are in a state of ill-repair and dilapidation yet the target property was nothing more than an ugly color.

My excitement about doing something that significantly improves life for a deserving family has been somewhat tainted. I my search continues for a deserving organization committed in practice to their stated mission.

Idyllic Idyllwild

2009-09-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

A gem in the Southern California landscape is the charming hilltop town of Idyllwild. Nestled at the summit of the San Jacinto mountains this art enclave is a throwback to simpler times. We first discovered Idyllwild on one of our trips to Palm Springs when we decided to take the mountain route. It is a picturesque drive up the winding road to an altitude of about 7000 feet. The surprise (for me anyway) at the top is a village committed to art and nature's beauty. I had no idea that there is a world-renowned art institute attended by artists world-wide in the heart of the community. Otherwise, it is a sleepy hollow where urbanites escape to in order to breathe some fresh air and reinvigorate on the numerous challenging hiking trails. The streets are littered with art galleries and artisans crafting their wares. Another delighful surprise is the gastronomic accomplishments. For such a teeny town there are some amazing restaurants. My favorite is the Cafe Aroma operated with life and precision by Frank Ferro who's one of those guys you just feel like you've known forever. Live entertainment all day turns this enchanting eclectic forest dining experience into a fun sing-along - especially since the wine list is enviable.

We decided at the last minute that we'd like to go up for one night over the Labor day weekend. As luck would have it there was room at the inn and since Idyllwild is a pet friendly town we brought our pup up to wind down the summer in nature. We arrived around noon hour on Saturday and spent the afternoon meandering the galleries and thrift stores in town after a hearty and fresh lunch at Natures Health Food and Cafe - I had the Mediterranean platter - highly recommended. We had invited some friends to join us and they arrived around 5pm. Our dinner reservations were at 7:30. They only had an inside table but we have the dog. Frank in his most accommodating manner invited our sweet, well-behaved Jackson to sit inside. He didn't make a peep and most of the patrons didn't even know he was there. We had a beautiful meal, great conversation, and lively entertainment.

After a knock up on Sunday morning of gourmet coffee, freshly baked scones and homemade jam, Jackson and I set off on a nice brisk walk over to the Nature Center. Our friends wanted to get home early and since there is not too much to the town of Idyllwild we hadn't already explored we left after breakfast at Gnome (I recommend The Bread Basket). I was going to be attending a birthday party the next day and wanted to pick up a little trinket for the birthday girl so we popped in to a little shop on the way out of town. The shop is full of handmade finds from Nepal. It turns out the shopkeep imports good from his native Nepalese village to sell in Idyllwild in order to finance treks in Nepal with groups of Americans he gathers throughout the season. Nepal (along with Tibet) is my number one destination in this life. How serendipitous was this encounter! Idyllwild is truly a magical and surprising little gem.

Block Nine

2009-08-30T15:39:00.000-07:00

I've got to give love to the Elephant Theater company and its subsidiaries. The cast and crew are so dedicated to the craft and aim to impact their audience every time. This in part because the audience could very well be planted with famous producers and directors. I've seen a few shows here - my neighbor is a company member - and have yet to be disappointed. Block Nine, written by Tom Stanczyk, pays homage to film-noir with his 30's gangster script, fraught with love scenes and themes. The clever part of the whole idea is that he has it acted by an all male cast. But wait. There's also an all female cast. I thought this was a really interesting way to present his work ignoring the gratuitous gayness imbedded just because. He had a female direct the "dames" and a male direct the "fellas". It was fascinating to see how the same script was interpreted ever so slightly and played out in such different ways. For the most part both shows - yes it was a 2 night commitment to view it this way - were brilliantly acted. There were some real stand outs in each performance. Unfortunately for the writer, the men accentuated how lousy the script really is. Fortunately for the rest of us, the women are so outstanding that the audience doesn't notice.

Jennifer Crawford

2009-08-30T15:05:00.000-07:00

If summer offically begins on Memorial Day weekend we kicked it off with a trip to the mountains. We spent a glorious Memorial weekend with our cousins in Big Bear. Friday night was spent relaxing, cooking and playing American Idol on Xbox. What a hoot. It was a little hard at first to get your bearings AND follow the backup singers AND read the words (if you didn't know every one of them by heart). It took us a while to figure out that I have a loud voice (big surprise) and that I was hearing myself too loudly and getting confused. Turning the mic down was a quick and easy remedy. It was really fun creating our idols and getting just the right funky edge that we all wanted our rock stars to have. We even had a competition and got the same criticisms the judges give contestants on the real idol. I think it was a run off between Damon and Jerry for the title.

Saturday morning we awoke to a cloudless day. The Millers have an east facing wrap-around veranda that looks out into a forest - the San Bernardino mountains as the backdrop - and the morning sun is generous with its warmth. It was so great just to be in a loving and carefree place with nothing to do but take in nature's beauty accompanied by a nice cup of chai tea, a good book, and Jackson. We spent an enjoyable day sitting around laughing, playing pingpong and poker, making cocktails, chasing bunnies in the forest and watching movies. Jerry took us on a wonderful 4X4 summit drive culminating in a hike to the top of the world on Sunday. We thought we'd beat the holiday traffic and drove home Sunday after a lovely lakeside drive.

The most memorable part of June was the trip to Lake Havasu (see earlier post for details). Damon may be going again with a few long lost high school buddies over the labor day weekend for which I was invited but have no interest in tagging along. Another family trip is planned for the following weekend but I have a prior commitment that Saturday.

June was also a very scary (and expensive) month for us where our animals are concerned. I've written extensive play by plays on that topic in real time. The rest of the month was spent in town enjoying Jackson's company, with friends, going to the theater and just savoring the cool weather. We needed the rest to gear up for what was to come in July.

Every weekend in July was booked. Forth of July occupied that first Saturday and we traditionally spend it with friends who have a pool party and fireworks every year. They are some of our favorite company and it's always a great time. The following Saturday we celebrated a friend's 40th birthday and had a bunch of fun. The living room was turned into a disco and we partied till the we hours, dancing and singing. Then the traveling starts.

Who in their right mind would go to Palm Springs in July? It can't be so bad as long as you have a pool and a cocktail, right? WRONG! We drove out Friday afternoon on the hottest weekend of the year. Temperatures soared way above 100 - 116 on the register Saturday. We made the best of it spending the bulk of the day and night in the pool skinny dipping since we basically had the place to ourselves. The main thing that made us all so miserable was the a/c in the condo couldn't keep up with the unbearable heat so we scarcely got any relief but we ate well restaurant hopping, got our drink on and kept entertained by shopping, gambling, and clubbing.

I vowed I would never do it again but I succommed to peer pressure after a couple of glasses of wine at a dinner party. We boarded another booze cruise on Friday afternoon a week after a woman turned up murdered on Carnival's "Fun Ship". I had few expectations but devoted to having a good time anyway. This time around we were a manageable 2 couples intent on relaxation and we did a whole lot of it. We slept when and where we felt like it and partied in the same fashion. Since we had all been up early on Friday morning and nurtured a nice afternoon buzz we collapsed early on Friday night after our formal dinner.

Saturday morning brought 6:30 am alarms about a missing person. For over 2 hours, a staffer with an indiscernible accent called every ten minutes for "wawawa - wawa" to contact the purser's office. Finally around 9am the cruise director intervened to prepare all 3000 passengers for a cabin to cabin physical search for Jennifer Crawford. Within minutes he was back over the airwaves to let us know that wouldn't be necessary as she had just announced her whereabouts. Of course, this starts rumor and innuendo about her morality. We were among the haters that said she had probably passed out drunk in some guy's room who didn't know her name! We later learned that she had been escorted to the California border when we docked in Ensenada for the disruption to ship safety.

We decided not to take a Mexican excursion, instead we would stay aboard and enjoy the pool. After breakfast we thought well maybe we should just walk to the 1st bar off the plank and get a cheap margarita. As it were we had 2 of the most amazing mango margaritas and guacamole for dirt cheap and then sauntered back to ship. I went directly to the pool where I waited for the next feeding. After dinner we caught part of the late night comedy show where the butt of almost all the jokes was Jennifer Crawford. Sunday was a similar day - napping in the sun for the better part of it. Damon and I did dance in the disco on Sunday night just so our muscles didn't atrophy for all the inactivity for 2 days! This cruise turned out to be a very nice and low key experience - one I probably won't be repeating any time soon - but enjoyable and much needed.

We were supposed to go camping with some friends in Yosemite the first weekend of August and I was really looking forward to it since a) we could bring our dog, b) I've never been to the sequoias, and c) I love it and haven't done much camping this year. But our plans were snarled when our friend fell down the stairs, tweaking his knee and faced surgery. Turns out he doesn't need surgery after all but he isn't walking too well.

The change in plans turned out for the best since our niece and nephew were coming into town with their Mom from Oregon. Saturday we hung out at the water park all day - did I mention that this is THE best fun ever? - and Sunday played at the beach followed by an outdoor concert.

August is a month to recuperate and replenish the bank account from an expensive summer. I went on a couple of invigorating local hikes, attended a live polo match, bowled (for real) for the first time since I was a child, wined and dined and had a whole lot of fun. We hosted a very fun weekend with our nephew, which I've previously recounted and had an interesting week of live theater - I'll talk about this in a separate post. Damon has been fly-fishing in Montana for the last 5 days, living like the president, while I man the fort at home and enjoy time with Jackson and the last of my summer reading. I cherish the time I have by myself and use it wisely.

As fall rapidly approaches I prepare for a couple of Autumn trips - Big Sur in Sept. and Chicago in Oct. We usually enjoy an Indian summer in the southland at least through September and often into October. I've been wanting to go to San Diego for a weekend so with luck we'll work that in soon. Sadly, we are currently bogged down by ferocious fires burning all around us a little earlier than usual as we've been in a furnace of a heat wave all week.

Who says kids have more fun?

2009-08-23T21:07:00.000-07:00

Wow. What a weekend! We had the rare privilege of a weekend visit from our 15 year old nephew. Friday night was spent out at the ball game cheering on the Dodgers as they managed to defend against the Cubs in a 2-1 match. It was such a display of athleticism to see Manny whack the ball into the outfield for what should have been out of the park but the Cubbie outfielder leaped and stretched and bounced on the ground with ball in hand. Out! The game went on like that all night. They celebrated afterward with the most incredible fireworks display I've ever seen.

I'm not much for theme parks. I've been to all the local ones more times than I ever cared to so I can easily forgo them and usually do, but, the kid wanted to go to Universal Studios so off we went. I haven't been in about 20 years and it's quite a bit different overall. The back lot tour is virtually unchanged but they've added many new attractions, including a few roller coaster type rides, and refreshed some of the older ones throughout the park. We had a wonderful fun-filled day in the land of make believe. The park closes early so we had plenty of time to roam around the City Walk which is a promenade of shops, restaurants and street performers. Our curiosity was piqued when we saw the Zen Zone. It's a sort of on the spot spa catering to the dog tired and weary following a day of action. We assuaged our sensory longings starting with a water massage. You lie face down in a capsule like a tanning bed and the water starts gently jetting over the plastic lining between you and the water. Afterward we settled in to the oxygen bar. It's an aromatherapy treatment whereby you breathe in essential oils through tubes inserted in your nose. It's Hollywood after all- anything can (and does) happen.

As if we didn't have enough fun already we decided to hang out at the water park on Sunday afternoon. Now this kind of activity is the best fun I've had in memorable history and a great stress relief. It's a great way to cool off and have thrilling rides on tubes, rafts, mats, or very near your birthday suit.

Top it off with a nice Korean BBQ dinner et wallah! another weekend to chalk up as funtastic!

Homeowners Beware

2009-08-20T21:06:00.000-07:00

I think I mentioned before that California is busted... flat broke and defunct! And so is the City of Los Angeles. Part of it is because of the economic mess of the state and the nation at large. But much of it has to do with the incompetence of the city council and voter ignorance. I heard about this latest ruse and went hunting for the story. It appeared in Saturday's LA Times August 15th. "Hundreds of thousands" homeowners will have their property taxes increased because LA Unified School district can't pay the interest on bonds issued to build more schools.

In California, to the dismay of every politician who love to spend other people's money, homeowners benefit from proposition 13 passed in the 70's which limits the percentage of property taxes paid to local & state governments. They look for every which way to get around and/or supplement this cap and bilk more money out of homeowners to pay for their pet projects and welfare programs. Thankfully, rescinding this law requires a 2/3 majority and with any luck they'll never get it from the voters. Ironically, the impetus of Prop 13 was born of the inequitable distribution of property tax revenue to support public schools. Schools in affluent areas had more money to spend on schools than did those in inner cities. In the meanwhile, there's no money to pay for schools half built and reimburse bondholders for the capital - new schools or drastic overhauls to schools primarily in inner cities where the high schools graduation rate is roughly 50% anyway.

As my favorite talk show host points out...ballot buzz words are children and green. If either of these words are mentioned we tend to blindly authorize dollars that we don't have without consideration for the consequenes. Heaven forbid we actually inform ourselves before casting a vote that assigns additional liablity to tax payers. It seems that within the language of the bond measures that La Unified can raise tax rates even if they rise above projections if property tax revenue can't repay bondholders. And this is exactly the position we face now. As property values have declined, hence assessment values to which the rate of 1% is tied, there isn't enough money in the coffers to meet the commitment so once again taxpayers are asked to open their wallet in a time where it's already running lean and fork over more.

As pissed off as I am, especially since I don't even have kids and if I did I probably wouldn't send them to a LA Unified school, I feel as though the voters deserve it for not paying attention. They just sign off on millions of dollars as though someone else is paying for it.

S.O.S.

2009-08-19T21:45:00.001-07:00

Save Our State parks!

California is broke and experiencing a budget crisis. The governor has proposed to close some 220 of California's 271 state parks to help close the enormous deficit. This is one of the many inane recommendations on the table to inflict the least amount of pain on Californians during this difficult time. The way I see it is there are consequences to bad governance. And many of the proposals I support like State worker reductions and furloughs. The last thing we need is more lazy state employees sucking off the tit of it's citizenry. California is one of only 2 states in the Union where the legislature is in session full time. Too bad they didn't have work furlough days - like ALL of them. I digress.

One of the draws to California for visitors is our natural beauty and the many gorgeous, accessible and affordable state parks. Closing the parks impacts its surrounding communities in very real ways as often they are remote and far removed from other opportunities to earn a living. Family restaurants, gas stations, recreation shops, etc. could face potentially devastating losses. Besides, it would cost us almost as much to close the parks as it does to keep them open. Unruly brush still needs to be cleared of fire danger, lawns still need to be watered, and buildings maintained. The parks could become a haven for squatters and other riffraff if they are not patrolled.

I encourage you to take a hike. And while you're at it make a donation - any size will do - to keep our parks open. Many of our local parks in LA county are on the chopping block. I read the other day that the public response to the closures has amassed a 30% increase in sum revenue. Visit the California State Parks Foundation to learn how you can intervene to keep our incredible natural lands for all to enjoy. And visit your Ca parks!

Star Gazing

2009-08-11T10:17:00.000-07:00

The annual Perseid Meteor Shower takes place tonight with the best viewing time between midnight & 5 am. A couple of years ago we drove out to Joshua Tree National Park with some friends overnight hoping for the best possible observationof the light show. We arrived after a 3 hour drive in the early evening sweltering heat to join a large group who convene there every year for the event. We were able to stake out a spot nearby to set up a tent and haul out food for open coal cooking while it was still light. Joshua Tree is situated in the Mojave desert nor-east of Palm Springs near 29 Palms and is a harsh and unpredictable terrain. Beautiful rock formations dot the landscape as do the protected cactus creating dramatic vistas from atop one of these granite monoliths. We summited one adjacent to our camp that was probably 60 feet high where we watched the sunset over the distant valley. After dinner and little partier we settled in on our chaise loungers with our eyes toward the sky. The fireworks didn't really get rockin' and rollin' until well after midnight with the most consistent part of the showers darting across the sky very near sun up. What a spectacular sight! It was one of the greatest nights in memory. As soon as it was light enough to roll up our belongings we were on the road again for home. We all had to go to work that day but it was well worth the time and effort. Highly recommended if the clouds clear away. I will be setting my alarm for 3 am with the hope of catching a glimpse.

The Brain in Love

2009-08-10T21:29:00.000-07:00

I was channel surfing the television when I came across this interesting program on PBS. The Brain in Love is a book written by Dr. Daniel Amen, a clinical psychologist, who through years of research, learned that before we could "fix" behavioral problems and relational troubles examination of the physiology of the brain is critical. Certain assumptions can be made about idiosyncrasies in personality found in the depths of matter in the brain's lobes according to his research.

Realizing that it is not possible for everyone to have a brain scan and subsequent analysis the doctor has developed a questionaire whereby the answers can provide a snapshot of what the brain looks like if it were scanned. From this information you can modify your own behavior to accomodate your brain's deficiencies affecting a better outcome. If one is trying to foster a harmonious relationship this information, and that of your partner's, is of interest in order to understand what work needs to be done and how you may be sabotaging happiness.

I found this a fascinating approach but before giving it credence I'll have to read the book and apply some of his principles to my own life.

Teachable Moment

2009-07-31T10:07:00.001-07:00

I have been incensed about this story since the second Obama stupidly uttered the word "stupidly" when referring to the Cambridge's Sargeant Crowley's arrest of tenured Harvard professor Dr. Gates. If someone had called the police saying that my house looked as though it were being broken into and an officer showed up and asked me some questions I think I would simply say, "thank you for protecting me and my property" rather than launching into an attack rooted in animus.

I've seen Gates' PBS series the "African American Experience" and found his airs a tad hubris but not hateful. Had the president not given traction to the event it more than likely would have blown over without incident. As it were, Obama spoke out of turn without consideration for the consequences thus providing the kind of fodder the media salivates over.

I take umbrage that the cop has succumbed to pressure to meet on the white house lawn for beers. I think the invitation does more to prop up Obama's image than to clear the racially tense brown air. Seems to me racism is more often perpetrated by those who claim to be it's victim. And we all know that things are not as sharp when looking through beer goggles.

That'll teach you, Mr. President, to gather all the facts and not comment on that which is above your pay grade.

Sick 'em (or is it stick 'em?)

2009-07-22T18:34:00.000-07:00

It's been awhile since I've pontificated. There is much in the news that I choke on routinely but the most topical today: health care "reform". I whole-heartedly agree that a system overhaul is necessary. Health care costs are completely out of control and I think there's myriad reasons why, including bloated bureaucracy. But I reject the notion that our health care system should be taken over by the government in any iteration; single-payer, universal, public option - whatever you want to term it. I feel as though the government does very little very well at all. As I skim through the HR Bill making its way through Congress - all 1018 pages - I aim to have a better understanding of the administration's proposal so I can comment with some intelligence on the matter. For now, I'll share my philosophy.

I believe that quality, affordable health care should be available for all. I also believe that we have an obligation to care for those who legitimately cannot care for themselves. The debate is over who pays for it and how.

I've lived with a nationalized system. Not only do taxpayers forfeit about 50% of their income to subsidize social programs but services are rendered scarce. Bear in mind Canada, one of the countries touted as having a stellar health care system, is home to a population of roughly 30 million versus 300+ million in the US. Simple math tells us that these numbers are unsustainable especially since only roughly 40% (and falling) of the total US population is working, therefore contributing. This not including shortages as a result of fraud and illegal inhabitants.

We have the highest rate of disease and leading killers - diabetes, heart disease are 2 biggies - further compounding the burden. I prefer to keep the government out of our affairs but if I'm footing the bill I want to have a say in how people live their life so as not to saddle me with their cures. I think the lack of focus on wellness and healthy living has been a detriment and will continue to be. There seem to be many more stressers in modern times that contribute to illness. I believe the trade-offs for taking a drug that supposedly cures contributes to making us unwell. These are just a few of the things we need to examine before handing over the one thing we still have a little say in to a body of bungling, power-grubbing politicians. There are so many variables and in various life stages that can't possibly be anticipated or accounted for. I think the time is now to curb the power we have given the government over our lives and tell them to butt out. Just as we have been strangled by insurance administrators deciding our fate the same would be true of government officials. All we have to do is look at the mess of Medicare to have the foresight we need into this new proposal. What happens when the money dries up or when China recalls our debt? What happens when the administration changes and, gasp, it's a Republican White House/H of R and they want to introduce their cockamamy agenda? I also wonder if doctor's offices and hospitals will skimp on staff and latest technology, equipment, and machinery because the allocation of resources is scant or the red tape too cumbersome (a la King Drew). I think we should all be very careful what we wish for. When you give government authority and power good luck getting it back.

A great deal of our health care costs are absorbed by research and I'm sure they lose more than they win in endeavors to find cures but why does health care have to be profitable? I've never understood why some are getting rich on the misfortune of others. Those who assume the risks should be fairly compensated but to gouge, misrepresent or even steal is not only reprehensible it is immoral - as reprehensible and immoral as unaffordable health care. Yes, I am in favor of system retrenchment but not at the expense of having big brother in yet another of my very private affairs. National health care assuredly leads to a national i.d. card or microchipping - both I vehemently oppose. The government already has a lock on our financial welfare why should they own our bodies too?

Bad parent

2009-07-10T20:22:00.000-07:00

I took Frankie back to the vet for x-rays and more tests - nothing obviously wrong. The doctor said two things are fairly common in cats - lymphosarcoma and inflammatory bowel disease - but both require endoscopy to draw definite conclusions and neither are curable. I'm starting to feel like I've done something wrong to make both of my boys sick at once. They eat premium food, get plenty of love, fun, playtime and exercise. What did I miss?

A Fleshy Menagerie

2009-06-30T21:20:00.000-07:00

I'm living in a menagerie - a maniacal and wondrous menagerie. You'd never know that Jackson had surgery a week ago. He is miraculously recovered. And there is nothing better than snuggling with my sweet doggie on a summer afternoon in the hammock listening to the wind rustle through the trees. Ahhhh. Not an hour later, as I was reflecting on what angelic animals I have, Frankie, the cat, for the first time in his life got up on our kitchen counter top and stole a steak right off the plate!! He's lost his mind - and nearly his head.

As if I don't have enough to worry about with Jackson, I'm very concerned about Frankie. He has lost about 25% of his body weight. We've done blood tests to screen for diabetes and thyroid disease (who knew both are prevalent in cats) but there is no glaring culprit for his weight loss. He has a very hearty appetite but is a skeleton of his former self. Incidentally as his weight is going down our neighbor's cat's is going up. It's possible that she is getting to Frankie's food making it look like he's the glutton. He'll be going for a wellness check and immunizations next week and I'm reluctant to learn what the problem is. My poor heart can't take any more bad news.

The Good, the Bad & the Ugly

2009-06-27T11:18:00.000-07:00

I just received a call from Jackson's doctor. The pathology report is in. The tumor was malignant and because of a nerve very close to the gland they could not take out as much tissue as they would have preferred. He feels confident that they got all the cancer but he expressed the possibility that microscopic traces remain. He suggests that we involve the cancer team to discuss a course of monitoring through blood work or some other means since we are intent on avoiding chemotherapy and/or radiation.

Don't Worry, Be Happy : )

2009-06-27T10:18:00.000-07:00

This is a commentary by Dave Romanelli on the article that I've posted in the "Mixed Nuts" section of my blogspot. He points out 3 specific things that happiness can be attributed to.

We’ve all heard countless studies, articles and TV interviews on happiness. But the other day I stumbled upon something that is just now being revealed to the media for the first time (Atlantic Magazine). It's a 72 year old study that began all the way back in 1937 when 268 Harvard University sophomores were asked to participate in a study measuring “a formula-some mix of love, work, and adaptation-for a good life.” And while many of those who were college sophomores in 1937 are now dying or in their fading twilight, this study continues to be diligently maintained to this very day.

And never before has science been able to report such fascinating and thoroughly time-tested results on happiness. Following are 3 powerful lessons from this study.

1. Have a Healthy Outlet

So many of the people in this study seemed to have all their ducks in a row. In their prime years in the 1950’s and 1960’s, they were making big money in powerful careers. They had beautiful families and lived in idyllic neighborhoods. Oddly enough, later in life, many of these fortunate people ended up breaking down mentally and physically. Why? If one didn’t have a healthy outlet for their fears, nerves, and struggles, it was only a matter of time before repressed demons erupted to the surface. The happiest people in this study had a healthy outlet. They were altruistic or had a rich sense of humor. They funneled their issues into sport, “their lust into courtship.”

It’s something important to consider. As the study proves, a human being can get away with sustaining daily nerves, fears, and doubts for a number of years. But ultimately, such a nervous nelly will crack. If you haven’t already, develop an outlet…find a sport, commit to helping others, lighten up, and laugh more often. A wise one said, "A person without a sense of humor is like a wagon without springs, jolted by every pebble in the road."

2. Don’t Take Yourself Too Seriously

This study, as reported in Atlantic Magazine, was summed up beautifully by the journalist Joshua Shenk: “Herein lies the key to a good life--not rules to follow, nor problems to avoid-- but an engaged humility, an earnest acceptance of life’s pains and promises.”

In other words, one can only carry the burden of a big ego and lots of pride for so long before your proverbial knees will buckle. Don’t take life too seriously. We all have weaknesses. Do you really want to battle your dark side year after year? Or might it just be time to lay down your arms, take a deep breath, and enjoy life. It’s shorter than you think.

3. Happiness Must be Shared

The other night I was watching the movie adaptation of Into the Wild, the true story of Chris McCandless. Fed up with the rat race, McCandless graduated college in the early 1990's, left his worried parents in the dust, sold all his belongings, and ventured deep into the Alaskan wilderness. Before dying of starvation, he seemed to regret his isolationist ways and wrote these last words in his journal, “Happiness only real when shared.” According to the 72 year old study, McCandless was spot on. In the study, those who spent too much alone time ultimately struggled. The happiest subjects in the study were those who sustained meaningful, healthy relationships with friends and family. One can never give enough hugs, say enough "I love you's," and send enough "I miss you's."

As I emphasize in my book and to my own crazy self each and every day: Livin' the good life is not fancy trips, and expensive jewels, and high brow country clubs. Rather, livin' the good life is livin' the moment!

Little Bo Beep can't count sheep

2009-06-24T16:24:00.000-07:00

Tuesday:
Jackson cried and whimpered and moaned ALL night last night save maybe two hours. He was clearly in pain once the anesthesia and everything wore off. He was prescribed an opiate pain medication which we administered as directed. Shortly thereafter the crying started. The doctor told us that it was on the low end of the scale so if he needed more we could give it to him. So I pushed more and more pills with inacquiescence from him. I was afraid of overdosing him but likewise I was afraid that he was suffering. All along Damon said he thought he was tripping on the drugs. When I finally spoke to the doctor this morning he confirmed that Damon's assessment was probably accurate and we should observe how Jackson tolerates the pain sans meds throughout the day. Damon was with him the first half and said he cried intermittently. I've monitored him the second half and have noticed a large improvement although his eyes tell me how uncomfortable he is. I feel sick to my stomach knowing that he's hurting and unable to relieve it. I sure hope the surgery was worth it.

Wednesday:
Damon got called in for a job interview so I had to come home midday to be with the patient. When I got here he was sunbathing in the back yard which is a typical activity for him. The only difference is that he has a gaping hole in his ass that ants were sniffing around! I was petrified that they would crawl into the drain tubes and into his body. The rest of the day we opted to refrain from the use of pain medication at all since Jackson seemed to improve immensely. As a result he had a much better night. He doesn't often get to sleep in our bed but I thought I would put him in bed with me that way he could take the cone off and I would feel it if he tried to chew out his stitches. When I went off to bed I tried to get him to come with me but he wanted to stay on his own bed in the den. I had no choice but to put the collar on. An hour later I woke up to his moaning again. I realized that he was muggin' over that stupid collar so I coaxed him to come to bed with me. He quickly realized that he could get the cone off if he got up on my bed so he capitulated. We both had a restful night with only one interruption.

Thursday:

My lovebug accompanied me to work today - he was a very good assistant. He seems to be recovering miraculously. We still haven't received the pathology report but it may be available when we take him in tomorrow to have the drains removed. I'll keep the updates coming as I know some of you have asked.

Frankenstein's pet

2009-06-23T17:24:00.000-07:00

Jackson came through the surgery just fine and is home resting now. I feel just awful for him as he has a drainage tube where the incision is to keep the area free from infection but it's hanging out of his bum so he keeps assuming the defecation position. So sad. There's not much blood but the area looks like its been butchered. It's probably just the swelling, shaving, sutures and dried blood but what a mess. He will have heavy pain medication as well as antibiotics for 5 days and a cone for 15, until the stitches come out. His appetite is as robust as ever which is a good sign but he does whimper now and again breaking my heart each time. I've been keeping a warm compress with peroxide on the area trying to keep him comfortable and of course he can still roll over for belly rubs. Never too down and out for that! I hope he'll fight through this thing and give us more joyful time.

A picture is worth $2170.43 and a couple bad words

2009-06-22T12:52:00.000-07:00

Here's the X-ray that shows the bone that Jackson swallowed last week. You can see it quite clearly at the top of his stomach just under the spinal column in the left 3rd of the image. While this is an exorbitant amount of money and I know many of you think I'm crazy to drop it on a dog I am so grateful that this happened. I truly believe that things happen for a reason. He had just had a full check up 2 or 3 months ago and either the tumor wasn't there or it was missed. Unless he became symptomatic we wouldn't have found it for another year. By then there would have been no chance to save him. So as it stands he'll have the gland removed tomorrow and we'll monitor him very closely.

How!

2009-06-19T17:22:00.000-07:00

Pigtails, polka dots and penises (sp?) are only acceptable if you're an LA dog! Sounds more like the title of a new Hank Moody novel. Jackson had the ultrasound today to see if the cancer had spread to his lymph nodes. The doctor said it looks clear and they appear to be normal size so we're hoping that removing the tumor will keep a recurrence of cancer at bay. Surgery is scheduled for Tuesday.

"I'm sorry but there is a malignant tumor in his right anal gland"

2009-06-18T21:30:00.000-07:00

Life really knows how to wallop you when you aren't expecting it. I must say it was never a thought in my head that my sweet gentle boy who's always been the epitome of health would end up with cancer. I envisioned that he would just walk over the rainbow in his sleep at an old decrepit age. I am sure not ready for this.

All I have to say is thank God he swallowed that bone! He had just been in for a check up a couple of months ago and either they missed the tumor or it has just appeared. It was discovered during the pre-op exam the other night. The doc said she thought something didn't feel quite right to her so she wanted to aspirate it. I fully expected that it was just a way to get more money out of me. When I got the call this morning my heart stopped - ok, sank. So now that I've had some time to digest this unthinkable reality I've made some decisions. Jackson goes in tomorrow for an ultrasound of the pelvic area so we can determine whether or not the cancer has spread to his lymph nodes and beyond. We are praying it hasn't so we can proceed with surgically removing the tumor. I am completely against chemo. and/or radiation therapy. I want my dog live as happily and actively as possible. It is really hard to be in this position to effectively play God. We will intervene where we can as long as it is in the DOG'S best interest.

Pump it up

2009-06-16T00:19:00.000-07:00

Just heard from the doc... took him about 3 hours to remove the bone from Jacksie's belly even having to pump his stomach. Thankfully there is no noticeable organ perforation but he said his throat is pretty torn up. I had hoped to bring him home tonight but they want to keep him overnight for monitoring and to regulate his pain meds. My poor baby has had some real trauma this year. He'll probably dream of something other than juicy steak bones tonight.

Here we go again

2009-06-15T21:09:00.000-07:00

My dog is SO cute and SO dumb. I guess you can't have everything. Jackson swallowed a 6 inch raw steak bone initiating another very expensive visit to the critical care hospital. They took x-rays to see where and how it was positioned to determine how to proceed. They called in a surgeon who will try to extract the bone, which is currently lodged in his stomach, endoscopically. They are confident this procedure will be successful but if not he will have to have surgery to remove it. Poor baby :[ I know he is uncomfortable and is salivating profusely. They cannot induce vomiting because it could perforate not only the stomach but puncture the esophagus on the way up. So they sent me home and said hey would call when it's over and I may even be able to bring him home tonight.

The Hip

2009-06-14T10:32:00.000-07:00

I love Canadian band The Tragically Hip. They've been around for over 20 years, enjoy largess in Canada and sell out huge venues. When they travel west they generally play more intimate clubs to a small Canadian ex-pat crowd in the US. Last week they sold out three nights at the Troubadour and I was fortunate to be in the audience one night. The Hip are hall-of-famers from Kingston, Ontario (not too far from my hometown) and have a kind of bluesy, introspectively lyrical sound. The lead singer/song-writer, Gordon Downie, has a soothing natural verbrato to his voice and a natural gift as story-teller. Even after all these years they still rock! At times, the music was a little too loud for the space but didn't detract from the quality. The guitarist is proud of his collection of instruments and played a different one about 10 times. Two sets, two encores, and over two hours of entertainment made it a very satisfying night. These snapshots are from my iphone so they aren't so great.

River Rats

2009-06-10T21:10:00.000-07:00

I spent a few years of my early 20's, circa 1993, with friends on the Colorado river between California and Arizona down river from Lake Havasu. We would go for the weekend to boat, ski and party. When I met Damon I learned that he practically spent his childhood with family at Havasu. Yet in 13 years we had never been together, until last weekend. One of his cousins has carried the torch of tradition and camps with her family every year on Lake Havasu. We coordinated a meeting place and decided on a Saturday morning pick-up time. It's a five hour drive so we decided to nab a few hours shut eye and leave in the middle of the night to arrive in the am and avoid any traffic. His cousin was on the dock as scheduled and shuttled us back to camp. They stake out a claim called Three Dunes on the Arizona side of Lake Havasu which is the exact same beach that they used to camp on with their grandparents 35 years ago!

One thing I've always found about the river is how relaxed it forces you to be. We sat with our toes in the water soaking up the sun (which we haven't had much of in LA in a month or more), ate amazing food, played in a horseshoe tournament, slept under the stars and bathed in the lake. One night Damon's cousin took the flashlight and headed away from the beach toward the bushes. She let out a scream. Turns out she bumped into a 3 foot long diamond back rattle snake with 11 splines in its rattler. We had kids in our group so our host wasn't taking any chances and took it's head clean off with a shovel. I had no idea that they are blind and use infra-red heat sensors to detect harm.

It was a wonderful weekend full of sun and fun. Damon's cousin has a beautiful Master Craft with all the bells and whistles - skis, wake boards and even an air chair. Damon tried the air chair and got out of the water for a few seconds. Evidently all the rules of skiing need to be forgotten and a whole new way of thinking employed. (He did much better in actuality than the youngsters). Ten of us sat comfortably in the boat, destination: the famous Copper Canyon. Known for it's debauchery, CC is a cove where on holiday weekends so many boats would crowd in that you could literally walk from boat to boat. Since so many people raised hell the police have been barricading the cove on holidays for years. That day we were one of four boats in the cove. It was beautiful surrounded by harsh desert landscape and 40 foot cliffs that we jumped from. I had never been as far as Havasu so it was a real treat for me to float through the channel under the London Bridge which was sold to an American entrepreneur on the 70's and reconstructed brick by brick on site.

There is something very alluring about the desert and it's hard to leave in your wake. We were having such a good time that we decided to stay an extra day. It was a perfect weekend rekindling life-long relationships and making great new friends.

Jo-burg

2009-06-04T23:03:00.001-07:00

Okavango's spell is upon us as we depart this morning. Today is destined to be a looonnnggg travel day. We hitch a ride with Dan back to Kasane by plane and then rekindle with Sims who buses us back to Victoria Falls airport for a flight out to Johannesburg. Luckily we didn't have any use for the fire prevention equipment provided at the air strip! I suspect we would have been in trouble.

The ride back to Zimbabwe from Botswana was a somber one. Botswana is bewitching and difficult to shake. But we were happy to see Sims again if only for a short while. We asked if there was anything we could do for him and his family and friends. He instructed us not to send anything to Zimbabwe as it would more than likely be confiscated by the government on route. If it made it through the duty would be so high that the recipient couldn't pay it and the government would end up with the goods anyway.

Sims' kids attend private school but there was some question about whether or not they would return to school after Christmas holiday. The teachers were anticipating a strike because salaries were so abysmal ($3 USD/month) as a result of escalating inflation. To add insult to injury, according to Sims, the government has mandated that only a certain portion of bank withdrawals will be honored. We now know they in fact did strike and that learners were turned away on opening day.

I forgot to mention earlier that when we entered Botswana we had to walk through poison to kill any remnants of hoof and mouth disease coming from Zimbabwe. I remembered this detail because after the plane doors were closed in Vic Falls, en route to South Africa, they announced that anyone suffering from bronchial disorders should take necessary precautions to cover their mouth and all should hide their eyes as the attendants walked up and down the aisle 4 times spraying some kind of fumigating disinfectant. Yikes!

We touched down in Johannesburg as we had 10 days earlier and reconnected with our Jo-burg guide who drove us into Sandton City's Mandela Square. The affects of Apartheid is still so glaring 20 years later. We passed through shanty towns where electrical lines hang like yarn above make-shift dwellings comprised of any random material available from corrugated metal to tarpaulins. This devastation just one or two blocks removed from gated mansions. Mendela Square itself is surrounded by a shopping center with fancy boutiques such as L.V., Prada, Gucci, and the like again isolated from the neighboring plight of Johannesburg's black citizenry.

The only souvenir of Africa I was interested in acquiring was drums. I had seen some in other locations but all had been a rudimentary interpretation of my vision. We had just enough time after arriving that afternoon to make it to the local marketplace before closing (and a major downpour). We entered the courtyard where peddlers accosted us relentlessly claiming that their bric -a-brac was better, cheaper, more authentic than their colleague's. I strolled around the kiosks, bewildered, until in a corner shop, where the shopkeep was tearing down for the night, I spotted my drums. Way up on a shelf, obscured by tribal masks and animal skins, lay two varying sized Ghana djembe drums - beautifully carved and tautly skinned with the hide of a sacrificial cow. I nonchalantly asked how much the man wanted for each - 900 for the large and 600 for the smaller. The South African Rand is worth roughly 10:1 USD so that would have been about $150 for the pair. That was significantly more than I wanted to spend and significantly more cash than I had on me (we were having a hard time getting cash from the ATM). As I pondered and stewed Patrick and I jabbed each other a little (again with a wonderful sense of humor). He is a gorgeous 30 something year old from Johannesburg. I was trying to grind him down and he was barely budging. I told him what I had in mind to pay but it was less than he was willing to accept. Our banter continued as I plotted how I was going to pay for the transaction. I only had US dollars, which he would have to pay a fee to exchange, and not quite enough of them to meet his demands anyhow so I was trying to scrounge more from my mates. In the meanwhile I said I wasn't going to buy the drums unless he played them for me. He made some excuse about being rusty but finally acquiesced. He played an INCREDIBLE beat for a few minutes and made it look effortless. I've subsequently experienced just how hard it actually is. As I was spouting accolades he impressed on me that a good djembe drummer doesn't just pull it out of the air. He said, at least for him, the inspiration, the beat, the passion comes from deep within and happens spontaneously. With this information we set off on a more spiritual conversation. We finally agreed on the low, low price of 950 Rand for both drums, though there may have been a hint of reluctance on his part. He wrapped them in wads of paper for me so they wouldn't nick during my travels. We were leaving tomorrow for Camp Mala Mala in north eastern South Africa. Mission accomplished. Now I just had to figure out how to transport them! Thankfully Cheryl had a large duffel bag that she had no intention of using and it was a perfect fit. We lugged our newly acquired keepsakes back to our hotel just as the sky opened up to refresh the "greenest city in Africa".

This evening was nothing extraordinarily memorable just the group getting together for drinks and a meal on the square before retiring early so we could make our 6 am wake-up call. But what was memorable is our first night in Johannesburg 10 days or so earlier.

After a 20 hour flight & lost luggage drama we were excited to get out on the town for some fun. We were pumped about being in Africa and in a celebratory mood. Beth had traveled on one of these excursions before and knew that dinners and spending could get out of hand so she talked Cheryl and I into avoiding that scene and going off for a threesome. We roved around the shopping mall a bit looking for the food court. There were lots of interesting choices - no Mickie D's but KFC was there - but we settled on pizza. We decided to share a wood-fired BBQ curry chicken on flatbread pizza. OMG! I'm not a pizza lover but this was THE best pizza I've ever had. Delish. From there we were in search of libations but a side trip to the gelato bar held us up. Outside a few restaurants and bars face the square. A light rain made it feel clean and fresh in the night air and made the Christmas lights sparkle like twinkling stars. We wandered around taking it all in and looking for just the right setting to have a night cap. Settling on Caffe Della Salute the jammin' urban music lured us in. Beth and I wanted to try some good South African wine but Cheryl prefers cocktails. She ordered a banana banshee from the signature menu. Good conversation accompanied by cool grooves and ambiance topped off our first night in Africa and set the stage for what proved to be the trip of a lifetime.

Unforgettable

2009-06-04T20:15:00.000-07:00

I suggested in an earlier post that our last night in Botswana was to be a very special one. We followed the hand-made fern arrows to the "mansion" where others were gathered with cocktails in hand and some cool urban African sounds on the stereo. Lori had arranged for a bon voyage soiree for our friends who had to get back to the states. Camp Okavango staff were invited to join us and we spent some time sharing laughs and capturing their images for posterity. And then all of a sudden we heard this thunderous distant sound. As it drew near we realized it was music and chanting from a gathering of on and off duty staffers. They corralled in front of us and shared their sacred traditions. The camp managers had their cameras poised and Benito was enthusiastically jubilant. I said, "you look like you've never seen this before" and he replied, "they've never done it before - I think you all inspired them". It was one of the most memorable nights of my life. They sang and danced and squealed. Ben, donning palm fronds around his shoulders like blades of a warrior, chanted a hand-written song backed up by the cat calls of the ladies. Then Limit took center stage with his reed grass skirt turned percussion instrument as he gyrated to another traditional song. We cheered them on until they ran out of songs. It was magical! They had us all join them in a sort of conga line and we all danced over to the dining room, stopping only for the baby mambo to scurry across our path. I haven't been able to load my video so here are a few stills of the dancers.

They had the dinner tables set up in one long formal banquet style table with white linens and many of the staff tabled with us. The chef presented the beautifully prepared talapia that Harold caught earlier in the evening. It was slim pickin's since it wasn't that big but boy was it good as was the rest of another exceptional meal.

After dinner we took an Amarula (a cocktail made from the fruit of the Marula tree) out to the fire pit and had some laughs and great conversation. You forget being from the Northern hemisphere that there is a whole other sky of constellations. And in the bush night where there is NO pollution of any kind to obscure your view it feels as though you can pluck the stars out of the universe. We observed the Southern Cross and Centaurus among others I'd never seen before. This is where I fell in love with Gabs. He is without question the most beautiful person I've set my eyes on - his perfect physical features that is. I didn't spend enough time with him to know his heart but I found him very intelligent and insightful during conversation even though he lacked charisma and that certain je ne sais quois. Oh well, I guess you can't have everything. Here's his gorgeous face. I have corresponded with Gabs since returning and will continue as a pen pal until I get the opportunity to host him in California. He told me that his only visit to the states was to Orlando, Florida, which is the worst representation of the USA. Hopefully he'll make it to the west coast someday.

Redwood Bar & Grill

2009-06-03T16:57:00.000-07:00

Since I first heard of this kitschy little place I've wanted to go and the opportunity arose when a friend asked if we wanted to celebrate a birthday there. Downtown LA has gone through an amazing transformation. It's gone from being a place where mass exodus happens at 6pm to an evening destination. The city developers and planners have done a good job of encouraging people, other than skid row dwellers, to live down there so there has to be something for them to do locally. There's great restaurants, theater, museums, sporting events, shopping and clubs. The Redwood is a landmark and a sort of jumping off point for many bands. Its a cheap cover and if you get there early enough there's usually time to hear four bands play. The door man's a bit of a dick but you can forgive his attitude when you see the decent list of beer they carry.

The Redwood Bar & Grill is decorated in a nautical theme like that of the captain's quarters equipped with with all the loot - wenches, rum casks, skulls. The menu is decent and the prices are fair. If you come late there's standing room only but the band is audible from every nook in the bar. The best viewing, however, comes from the main stage area. One of the best things about this place is the diverse group of people it attracts. The bands are all different so you're bound to run into a quirky variety of listeners.

The first band, Two Dollar Bash, was an eclectic group of Scots and a Frenchman living and recording in Germany with a very folksy, bohemian Irish traditional sound. Huh? But it worked. It worked so well we actually purchased a CD from them. The next band was a couple of freaks from Tuscon called, appropriately, Mission Freaks. They had an interesting sound but used so much strobe lighting I thought I was going to have a seizure. The female singer of the next group had some amazing pipes (rack and back, too) and blew the house away. As did her female drummer. But the last was an old time punker band, unimpressive enough for me to forget their name, with a front man being one of the biggest a-holes I've ever seen. We took this Sid-Vicious attitude as an exit queue and left the building before bottles flew.

"On a dark desert highway I heard the mission bells"

2009-05-29T21:56:00.000-07:00

I get these ideas to explore our surroundings and luckily Damon goes along with most of them. I had always wanted to see the swallows return to the mission at San Juan Capistrano so one Saturday morning we boarded the Pacific Surfliner and headed south. It's a short little relaxing jaunt from LA's historic Union Station - a beautiful art deco building in downtown - to SJC in Orange county.

The train pulled up to the station - rather a break in the road - and the conductor called for us to quickly step off the platform as the train was only there a few seconds. It was late March and already warm so we wanted to get to the mission before the sweltering mid-day heat broke.

The "jewel of the missions" is among the oldest in California. An 1812 earthquake left the great stone sanctuary in ruins but other incarnations remain and are well-preserved. The gardens are exquisite from herbs and bees to roses and fauna. It is a lovely stroll over the grounds as lizards dart out in front of you and birds chirp all around. I'm not sure what kind of birds but they are NOT swallows. Not this year anyway. We didn't see one lousy swallow.

The mission was conceived of by the Franciscan sect of Spanish Catholics and built by native Indians indigenous to the San Diego area circa 1775. Exhibits of traditional life during this time period are on display. Everything is wonderful but let's be honest, besides the birds you go for the bells. And they are everything their reputation claims. The antiquity, the aesthetic, the tonal quality. Bellisimo!

Capistrano is full of so many delightful little surprises, like this dove whose made her home in a planter in the courtyard garden of a local boutique. San Juan is on the historic Camino Real and is an equestrian dream. These beauties were tied up under a shady tree along side the main highway.

Another reason to visit SJC is for the Ramos House Cafe. I saw an episode on California's Gold featuring this little gem in the old town district along the tracks. They are only open for breakfast and lunch and the menu is prix-fix. (And no Mexican). But the special thing about this place is the bloody mary. It's a meal on its own. They load it with crab legs, asparagus and just the right kick. Though the menu looked amazing, we opted not to eat here since we were really craving Mexican food. Turned out to be a good choice. I had THE BEST Chile Verde EVER. We strolled around old and neo-town in and out of thrift stores, home and garden boutiques and an architectural treat in its own right, the library where I picked up a coffee table book on Wild Africa for $2.00! We ended the day at a local saloon listening to a guy play the six-string guitar and patrons twirled around the old wooden floor under a sea of braziers and other "memorabilia ".

The train runs often throughout the day and we felt we'd had our fill so we moseyed on down to the tracks to wait for the sweet chariot to take us home, past what remains of Orange county's agriculture crops and back into the land of graffiti and traffic jams - the sound of mission bells being the soundtrack of our tales.

Self. Realized

2009-05-28T20:55:00.000-07:00

LA is paradise if you can get out of the rat race - and there's plenty of opportunity and space to do just that. One of my favorite places to meander is Lake Shrine. If you don't know its there you won't find it (and I'm not telling!). It was created by a yogi back in the 50's to enshrine some of Mahatma Ghandi's sacred ashes on the bank of a small man-made lake surrounded by lush gardens. People of all walks of life and religious affinity are welcome and celebrated here. For me it's a place of reflection and circumspection - a place to gain clarity and perspective. Or to simply be. In the moment. With white doves floating in synchronization in the brilliant blue background of the sky. Or maybe it's the swans gliding on the lake in the windmill's reflection that is so breathtaking. One of the MOST beautiful things about Lake Shrine, however, is that it's not overrun with people. It's very private and cell phones are verboten. Indulge yourself. You deserve it. Maybe you'll be inspired to take in a sermon at the neighboring self-realization center.

4 down, 1 to go

2009-05-25T21:59:00.000-07:00

Today we're gearing up for a walking safari. Very excited about this adventure because we are on the hunt for buffalo. We've seen lions, leopards, and elephants - 3 of the big five - and hope to see buffalo and rhino to complete the quest. After breakfast we joined the birds as they greet another glorious day. Look at this beautiful pair of bee-eaters sittin' in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g. Scores of birds line the delta and we couldn't possibly capture all their beauty. Our boat would jar them from their perches and they'd be all aflutter darting and dashing in front of our boat as if escorting us through the channel.

We landed on an island and disembarked. Sompin' big on this island cuz there sure am a lotta poo poo. We waded through the dung and John gave us a briefing on how to behave in the presence of wild animals (thank goodness) and that we should walk single file and keep our voices to a minimum. He walks at the front of the pack with just a walking stick and binoculars while "Limit" pulls up the rear with refreshments and a rifle.

The guides are very attuned to animal behaviors and what type of shelter they like at certain times of the day/season/available food resources. We weren't walking very long before we happened upon a large herd of buffalo. A stocky and noisy wort hog was standing guard at their watering hole letting us only get so close. Buffalo is a favorite lion meal so they are most cautious and lions had been spotted recently on this island. The cape buffalo, in regalia akin to revolutionary patriots, were on to us right away and a few of them came in to get a closer look at these odd looking 2-legged creatures. Friend or foe? Giving us looks like what kinda lid is that?

We stared at each other for a long time until John started to get nervous that they were becoming agitated with our presence. Their body guard had sauntered off into the bush but egrets and ox-peckers are steadfast friends.

We sauntered along not knowing what we would come across but hoping for more of the beasts we had come to expect - and loved observing. It was a particularly warm day and sweat poured with every step. The animals were scarce and had likely retreated to a cooler place to wait out the hot afternoon. After a couple of hours it had become evident that we were searching in vain and decided to make our way back to the boat. We were suiting up in our life jackets and just ready to take off when John spotted a baby crocodile just hangin' out on the grass next to the boat. He could have jumped in if he wanted to. So I'm thinking and said "where's his momma, she's got to be close by" and I didn't want to be anywhere near a protective and aggravated adult croc. He told us that the baby looked to be about 2 weeks old by now and was on his own. You could see the little razor teeth protruding from his soon to be crushing jaws. He slipped under water and disappeared into the reeds and we motored away from the shore and back into the delta.

This afternoon we cooled off in the pool alternately napping in the sun and exchanging silly and playful antics like Cheryl trying to drink a beer from my cleavage!

The grounds at Okavango are not quite as lush and dense as Moremi but enchanting anyway. This is an example of a wonderful and natural water feature sporadically placed throughout the camp which is simply a few vines twined together and water gently trickles into a pond below. This is a haven for exotic birds to sing and chirp in the tree above and drink and splash in the pond below. The curio shop is in the background where handmade items, such as the beautiful grain basket I bought, made by the loving hands of camp staffers can be purchased. Cash proceeds are directly given in entirety to the craftsman.

I decided to try my luck at fishing later in the day. Only a few of us wanted to go out so we recruited Robert to take us to a great fishing hole. The delta is loaded with the famed tiger fish, brim, talapia and catfish (and of course crocodiles!). We were using beef as bait and cast our lines off the side of a shallow power boat. Harold was the only successful fisherman that day catching both a large catfish and a talapia. He threw the catfish back but we brought the talapia back to camp for the chef to prepare for dinner. Tonight was to be a very special celebration.

We had one family of three in our group who would be leaving us the next day so one of the girls arranged a bon voyage soiree at their abode. They were assigned an exquisite hut we dubbed "the mansion". It had been the residence of the woman who started the camp decades earlier and was a plush suite equipped with a bar and kitchen area as well as a separate bedroom, living room and exquisite bathroom. Lori enlisted the staff to put together a cocktail party before dinner and with the help of a child, Jen, laid arrows made of fern leaves on the paths leading toward the "mansion". It was a beautiful scene as the setting sun reflects upon sweeping evening clouds as the moon takes it's place in the sky - these and candlelight marking our way to an unforgettable party.

Farewell et Bonjour!

2009-05-10T19:18:00.000-07:00

This morning is bitter sweet. We have to leave Moremi - my version of paradise - but I'm excited to see more of beloved Botswana and make new memories. So long Launce. After breakfast we jumped into power boats with our safari crew and guide and blazed through the Delta grasses dodging crocodile for Camp Okavango. The trip is supposed to take 3 hours and with any luck we'll get stranded on a deserted island just like Gilligan. It's heating up fast and there isn't enough accessible sunscreen to cover my already chapped legs but the breeze feels cool. The Delta is even more stunning in a boat than it is from a plane. The channels are lined with beautiful trees and grasses including papyrus. The people of this region are very resourceful and utilize what they find on the land for their sustenance. Grass is used to make huts, baskets, and paper. The waterways are loaded with beautiful lilies and date palms rise up out of the earth and kiss the sky. About half way we moored on an island for tea and our Moremi guides handed us off to the care of the Okavango team. After a few photos our new vessels set sail. As we rounded a bend we came upon a bird sanctuary. This is the breeding ground for various species of kingfishers, bustards, bee-eaters, eagles, cranes and ibis to name a few. What a sight! And our resident ornithologist was elated. In spots the Delta opens up to almost a lake and is sheer glass. It's gorgeous to see the sky and trees in double vision mirrored beneath you. It would have been perfect water skiing conditions but no barefoot booms on board. Oh, and did I mention crocodiles?

We arrived late morning at Camp Okavango, greeted as warmly by Hannah, Ange's cousin, as we were at Moremi. One of the first things we saw was a paradise flycatcher. I have never seen so many wonderful and exotic birds as I've seen these last couple of days. This flycatcher has a small iridescent royal blue head with turquoise eyes and a 2+ foot long bright orange tail of feathers. Beautiful! Okavango is similar in amenities but differs in vibe. All the same rules apply, we slept in tents (ours had a lanai), and there is a central lounge/bar area, fire pit and pool. The dining room is much more rustic under thatched roof and just a little less cozy in arrangement - more of a cafe style. We were invited to lunch, meet and greet, and orientation. The staff is every bit as welcoming and lovely, maybe even more so. In fact, the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on is Gabs, one of the guest directors. His features are stunning, his skin smooth and the most perfect shade of dark chocolate - my favorite. He was very attentive, accommodating and worldly (more on him later). Many of the staff members here are either first or 2nd generation bushmen - some speaking only enough English to ensure death doesn't occur, but some are University educated like Toffee, "the candy man". Each one has such wonderful stories about their life and are forthcoming and willing to take the time to share.

Activities abound in these camps and this one gave us options. I opted to explore the Delta by Mokoro canoe, a modern adaption of a traditional canoe and the most popular mode of transportation in the Delta. They were carved from sturdy wood but today, at least ours, are made of resin. We hiked out of camp, passed the airfield, along the forest edge to the river, where our guides and canoes await and climbed aboard. Our guide was Ema - a beautiful young man with a shining smile and personality. Where English is lacking it was made up with an amazing sense of humor - everyone is so funny and charming. It was a lovely evening and Ema pushed along the channels with a long pole like that used in punting while we watched and photographed red lechwe and impala grazing on the shoreline. Night lilies were starting to bloom as the day, and day lilies, begin to close and a red-painted frog and his insect prey try to be invisible for the other. Ema made a lily pad hat and necklace of lilies as we waited to see if the frog would make his move. I was a little perplexed when they told us the frog's name until soon we spotted another just chillin' on a reed. He actually looks hand painted.

Of course we had to stop for sunset cocktails. I took this (and every) opportunity to speak with Toffee, an educated guide, young father, the last of 14 children in his family, the son of a bushman, and an extraordinary person. We left the peninsula where we landed just as the clouds were rolling in creating another dramatic and gorgeous sunset. We returned to camp in time for dinner which was another amazing meal. Though we hadn't exerted much energy that day we were exhausted and looked forward to flopping into a comfortable bed and begin our pleasant dreams.

4.875

2009-05-08T19:08:00.000-07:00

Not all is grim with the economy the way it is. If you live life within your means and make some smart choices you can work things in your favor. We just signed the loan docs to refinance our house so we can add a much needed bathroom. I feel like now is the right time since capital is cheap, and great deals can be had on materials and contractors. With any luck, pending city approval, we will have a new bathroom/laundry/closet off our master bedroom by the end of the year.

A Song and A Dance

2009-05-05T22:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight is our last night at Camp Moremi. I arrived at dinner refreshed and exhilarated just in time to hear unusual noises off in the distance. Soon it was evident that the joyful noise was singing. The staff had all rallied together to share some traditional singing and dancing with us. This was definitely one of the highlights. Frank even played an old wooden xylophone looking thing and sang a solo. It was magic. We'd grown accustomed to amazing food and tonight was no exception but it was even more special with the entertainment and fantastic conversation. Sadly, I didn't have my camera with in order to document the experience. But stay tuned, there's more.

As I entered the lounge I realized that new guests had arrived. It was a couple visiting from Italy. Giovanni was gorgeous to look at and a very interesting person to talk to. He had been a race car driver and lived for a spell in the US (San Luis Obispo) and had some neat stories. He also LOVES to vacation in Africa and was on his 5th trip to the continent. I was very disappointed not to make Namibia a part of my trip and Giovanni said if you only have one trip to Africa he would recommend Namibia just because you can experience all that Africa has to offer - the sea, the desert, the jungle, and the mountains in one country.

It was a terrific night and I was sad to bid farewell to this most special place where dreams came true.

PS Baby

2009-05-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

We spent the weekend in relaxing Palm Springs. Our friends have a place out there so they invite us a few times/year and it's always a wonderful, fun and relaxing time. There is so much to do there or better yet, nothing at all. They have a great pool and BBQ so we usually just hang poolside with cocktails and cook out. They are located one block up from Palm Canyon drive, the main drag in town with a stunning mountain view. The landscape is so dramatic with the shadows cast on the overpowering mountains and the harsh elements of wind bending giant palm trees and moving clouds overhead. The building is a beautifully preserved 1960's converted hotel and is said to have been a favorite of Marilyn Monroe and Frank Sinatra.

Saturday was a glorious day and we were up fairly early after having chilled out Friday night so we decided to maximize the day before some other friends arrived. I had always wanted to visit the Living Desert Museum and heard it was quite an enchanting place so off we went. I had no idea what to expect and was totally surprised to find a slew of African animals there in addition to other exotic and endangered species. It spans over many acres of harsh terrain and home to many indiginous flora, fauna, and fowl. No expense is spared as it appears to be very well cared for (endowed by uber-rich blue hairs I'm sure). The most startling thing was the $7M exotic vetrinary facility. A docent took some time to explain to us that scheduled physical exams are posted and can be viewed by the public. We saw video footage of a leopard check-up. A few weeks ago an Oryx got it's horn stuck in a fence and was bleeding to death. They successfully amputated the horn and the animal is recovering nicely. We learned that Mexican wolves were considered one of the most endangered species and they brought a couple of them to the facility to perform invetro and have just released the offspring into the wild far away from civilization and expect that the species will propogate and flourish. While it's far and away the African experience, it is far and away the Tokyo one. There is plenty of room for the animals to roam freely and the mission at the Living Desert Museum is preservation of the species. Cool experiences like "Starry Safari" where you sleep in tents on the property are a good way for kids to learn how to respect nature.

It was an exhausting day just because there is so much to see and we wanted to take it all in. The weather was perfect but it's a lot of walking. Our friends were en route so we met them at Hamburger Mary's for happy hour before getting ready to go out on the town. After a brief stop at the casino (I'm not much of a gambler) we hit the strip. It is a well-known fact that Palm Springs is a gay haven. We decided to go dancing and gay clubs play the best music and have the least amount of drama. Hunters has a bar in the center of the room with pool tables and a separate room with a dance floor. A couple of male go-go dancers were staged to entertain the crowd and one of them was very good at getting everyone riled up. We had a lot of fun.

We didn't have time this trip but a really interesting thing to do is take the tram up the mountain side to Idyllwild. The tram is actually a gondola that ascends the rocky vertical San Jacinto face on a cable and is simply an engineering wonder. Once you get to the top you can see the entire Coachella valley. There are hiking trails that traverse the peaks and take you into the town of Idyllwild - another fantastic weekend away, but that's another story for another time.

You can't leave Palm Springs without a stop by Hadley's date market for a banana-date shake. It's tradition and it's the perfect topper to a perfect weekend.

Elephants! , finally

2009-04-29T20:17:00.000-07:00

We no sooner left camp after tea when a call came over the radio that a hippo was headed our way and would cross right in front of our truck on his way to hippo beach. Sure enough seconds later we spotted the slick, sleek behemoth stomping through the brush. He was unfettered by our presence but we knew who was in charge. We could hear him grunting as he labored through the clearing, posing as if on queue for the cameras, before splashing into the pool to join his friends. An ox-pecker gets a free ride, and a free lunch, on his back.

At another hippo pool a different kind of crusher lays in wait. We saw what could have been mistaken for a magic log but in actuality was a crocodile stalking a pasture full of impala, red lechwe and baboons from the shoreline patiently hoping they parch and come down to the lagoon for a drink.

Frank could feel our determination to see elephants and pushed deeper into the forest than ever before leaving a field of wildebeest in the dust in search of our prize. By law guides can't drive more than so many meters (I think 30) off the trails but this was our last opportunity for Moremi to leave a lasting impression. Finally, in the thick brush we saw something very large appear to be moving. Elephants! And lots of 'em including babies. We inched closer to them as they made their way toward us until some ranger dude scolded Frank for encroaching on their habitat and we eased off hoping they would keep coming. They did and what a marvel. Elephants are extraordinary in every way. They appear to be very sensitive not to mention nurturing and protective. The babes follow behind their mommy with enough tether to learn the ropes of life but not too far to get a little suckle as needed. Elephant mammories look sort of like the human female's and are right up under their fore legs, convenient for a nursing "toddler" which can stand underneath his giant mother. It was really a warm evening and these elephants were caked with dried mud. They toss dirt on themselves and/or waller in mud puddles to keep cool. And the most interesting tidbit of all is how they communicate. They tap a front foot (hoof?) on the ground which sends a vibrational signal up to 20 kilometeres away! This peculiar telegraphic system rivaling Marconi's first invention alerts other herds of danger or signifies another's whereabouts. I've already mentioned how they mow down everything in their path but I would be remiss if I neglect to mention how the forest gets regenerated through recycled seeds. That which isn't digested is returned to the earth where the next incarnation soon sprouts.

Once we'd found the elephants we were so mesmerized that we didn't want to leave them. They were most tolerant of us cramping their style until they started to move and found us in their path. The mothers are very protective of their young and will let you know in no uncertain terms what the terms are. It was a little scary since they can and do charge but generally not without warning. At one point we were so close (and the truck engine was off - Frank was reading a map!) and the baby was heading straight for us with mommy not far behind beginning to get agitated. Yikes! In unison we urged Frank to get a move on before we were crushed like ants. We stalked them for the longest time before daylight started to fade and we had to jet back to camp by way of cocktail lagoon! I felt like it would be ok if I died having had the good fortune to cast a gaze upon these incredible, sentient beings.

I think I mentioned before that
the sunsets in Botswana are unbelievable.
Here are a couple of fiery scenes.

4 Days in Tokyo

2009-04-24T23:15:00.000-07:00

Konnichiwa!

Wow. How to begin? I'll start by saying that Tokyo was without question one of the best experiences of my life. I didn't have any expectations and it all happened so fast I had very little time to prepare. Consequently I didn't do a lot of research and was completely bolled over. The only understanding I had of the Japanese culture was based on images projected to the Western world and I subscribed to all of them: reserved, polite, traditional, submissive - all the stereotypes. The reality being that while these things do exist in limitation they are not the overarching qualities of a Japanese life. There are so many contradictions. You'll find bowing aplenty but you're liable to get a surprising view up a young girl's skirt since the typical attire is a micro mini with garter belts, knee socks and heels. I'm sure it's just a fashion statement - although I learned that casual sex is widespread and condom shops and timely rate hotel rooms are common - but sweet innocents look like ladies of the evening. One of these little tarts could be seated on a train next to a woman donning a traditional kimono with obi and little wooden shoes. Maybe contrast is a better word. And such contrasts are glaring... like eating or smoking cigarettes while walking on the street is poo-pooed but public urination is perfectly acceptable. Mind you, most public toilets are nothing more than holes in the ground anyway.

Japan is the size of California with nearly half the entire population of the USA. With as many as 15 million people crowding into Tokyo it's insanely busy. There is so much visual stimulation vying for your attention that I felt like I was about to have a seizure with all the neon, flashing lights, jumbo-trons and other advertisements on a continuous feed. Everyone rushes around to and fro at all hours of the day and night. It feels like you're in an ant farm. I hope I get the opportunity to return and visit the countryside and small villages to really get a taste of Japan and her traditions. I met a European woman who said the best skiing she's ever done in her life is near Sapporo to the North. Japan encompasses 6000 islands and home to great seismic tumult. There is an entire region where natural hot springs erupt in boiling little pools.

I arrived to see the last of the cherry blossoms through the filter of a peachy sunset sky, a persimmon shade I've only seen in Asian paintings and silkscreens. After settling in at the hotel in a room so small we couldn't spread out our luggage but with the best shower I've ever had in my life, we set out in search of a good meal. Ameyoko, literally meaning American Alley, was just around the corner from our hub. During wartime this famous bazaar was the black market purchasing place for nylon hose, chocolate, cigarettes, etc. but nowadays you can find cheap designer label knockoffs, fresh fish marketeers, a litany of noodle shops and Pachinko parlors. For those of you not familiar with Pachinko it's a game like pinball that the Japanese are completely addicted to. Gambling is illegal so they play for coupons or tokens which can be exchanged for prizes but often they are sold for cash in the back room. Tokyo was practically decimated during the war so much of it's construction is more modern. It's a place where the avant guard designers come to express themselves amongst what remains of ancient temples and shrines. The city, every square inch accounted for, is webbed with all these little alley ways and walk streets where boutiques and amazing restaurants mash up for an extraordinary experience for the senses.

I was lucky enough to have an American chaperone whose made Tokyo his home. It is a very closed society and outsiders are not readily welcome. I experienced this first hand in Yakitori Yokocho in Shinjuku the night I was on my own. If you don't speak Japanese, btw, you're screwed. There is very little English spoken. My friend had left and it was pouring rain but that wasn't going to keep me from the yakitori that had evaded me the previous nights. Yakitori alley is made up of shack upon shack where yakitori, chucks of skewered meat and vegetables, is grilled in front of you. The spaces are so small with just a tiny lunch counter and five or six stools. Most of them were full but I found one with an empty seat and I tried to make myself blend in. The man behind the counter asked me if I knew so and so and when I replied no he said "no sit" and waged his finger at me. I was ousted as a gaijin (foreigner)! So much for blending in. I was waved into another shack where other Westerners were welcome too. I had 1/2 dozen skewers and a beer. If you order a beer you'll get the jumbo size as drinking is a central part of Japanese culture. It is considered a faux-pas to pour your own drink - you must wait for someone else to do it for you. It's a yummy and cheap way to eat. But beware they charge you for the "complimentary " bamboo shoots if you eat it.

As I was saying it helps to tag along with someone who speaks fluent Japanese and has been accepted into their circles. After a pint of "harf 'n harf" (a black and tan) we hooked up for oden. Oden is a traditional winter meal often made with eggs, daikon, meat and whatever else. So we duck into another alley and push back the shoji screen where the mama san heartily greets our host. Some of them are tatami style and shoes are to be left outside. Japanese business men are required to entertain clients and colleagues at least a couple nights a week so these dens are perfect to grab a drink and a small bite. Like I mentioned drinking is core to city life but it is always accompanied by some yummy little bits and bobs. When we entered we were the only three inside. The sake started flowing and I tasted the freshest most amazing sashimi squid ever. The rooms are tiny little places with a small grill and fridge in the center square. The mama san acquires the freshest seasonal things ahead of time and spends minimal time preparing the little appetizers. It is a wonderful way to eat and experience different flavors. Shortly after our arrival 2 men came in and commented on the fact that we foreigners were inside even joking that he didn't want to set his briefcase down because it was full of cash. Another moment passed and a famous Manga cartoonist showed up. Then three Swedish guys, one of them the Ambassador to Japan, squeezed in and our host happened to know them. What a wonderful night full of great conversation and first experiences. From there we went to a Belgian beer bar for more delicious goodies and, my favorite, trapiste beer. We were in celebratory mode after a stellar meeting earlier in the day and it was a great stress relief to just kick up our heels and party. What's a jaunt in Tokyo without a little karaoke? The karaoke bars are not like they are here where you get up on a makeshift stage and sing in front of the entire criticizing bar. You actually rent a little booth and can record yourself if you wish.What a hoot. So easy to lose track of time when you're having so much fun by the time we knew it the last train had chugged on down the track hours ago. A $60 dollar cab ride later put us back in our room at 3am.

Another great day is looming after sleeping in 'til 8:30. We'd been up so early the other days because the sun awakes at 5am and the city starts buzzing right around then, particularly since our hotel room was nestled between the train tracks and a thoroughfare. We spent the better part of the morning talking with other travelers and then decided to head out for a leisurely stroll in Omotesando, one of Tokyo's shi-shi neighborhoods. Michael remembered a special coffee house so we set out to find it. We climbed the teeny stairwell - all the stairwells are so small I felt like I had to tuck my elbows in to keep from touching the walls - to the second floor and entered a rustic room with a long coffee bar and a few tables. It was simply and tastefully decorated with ancient artifacts, books and gorgeous bronze ash trays (everybody smokes), everything sooty and oily with the film of coffee. The first thing I noticed coming through the door was the soothing and familiar fragrance of fresh roasted coffee. But what's special about this place is the gentleman seated in front of an open flame HAND ROASTING the coffee! The beans are nestled in a wire mesh basket resembling a bird's nest affixed to a bracket hovering over the flame and hand-turned over the fire with tender loving care. When the beans are ready they are transfered into a think greasy bag and then dumped into a large shallow basket and spread out to cool. The man then fans the beans further cooling them before they are ready to go into an old fashioned grinder. We ordered cafe au lait and watched as our most scrumptious cup 'o joe was handmade from start to finish. The process is like a tea ceremony. The water is boiled and placed in a silver tea pot. The beans come out of the grinder and the grounds for each cup are gently spooned into a small linen receptacle with a wooden handle. Not a word is exchanged behind the bar but I suspect the barista is the roasters wife. She positions the cotton sac over antique crockery and pours the boiling water over the grounds as the fresh roasted and ground coffee filters into the bowl. What an experience! And the best cup of coffee I've ever had. It was Michael's mission to make sure I got to indulge in some traditional treats. We had been roaming around town visiting different shrines and temples, even stumbled upon an earth day festival in Yoyogi park and he was determined to find a place to eat daifuku, which is mochi (a doughy rice mixture) with red bean paste inside sweetened like jam accompanied by a bowl of matcha, a supreme, finely ground, shade-grown tea. A fantastic combination for the taste buds. We also enjoyed a hand-roll size ball of rice smeared with miso and plum. I have to say the food in Tokyo is some of the best quality I've ever tasted. They don't over-process food like we do. We even had unbelievable Indian Food for lunch one day.

Our Tokyo host invited us for dinner at his home with his family. When we arrived he announced we would be having pasta. I have to admit I was a little disappointed hoping that I would get to indulge in some traditional Japanese food. But this wasn't just any pasta. I had never enjoyed homemade pasta before and certainly had never made it myself. I learned how to make pasta! What a treat. It was absolutely delicious and he served it with a slow cooked pork marinated with apples. He made a sashimi bruschetta appetizer with fresh herbs he'd picked from his container garden on the patio. Serve with a nice red wine and voila, oheeshee (delicious)!

We were staying in Ueno in Nothern Tokyo where there is a lovely park. The grounds house the oldest standing Edo period shrine, a handful of national pride museums, a lake with footpaths around the perimeter and peddle boat docks, and the Tokyo zoo. The zoo boasts a collection of panda bears - small red pandas, not giant Chinese pandas. Zoos are not favorable to me but I had some time on my hands while strolling through the park and decided to check out the pandas. I still haven't seen a panda (they were hiding) but I looked in on some of the other exhibits. Maybe it was because I've just returned from Africa and saw what an animal habitat should be but I balled my bloody eyes out the entire time. The animals looked so frightened and disturbed. There were fights in just about every cage and nothing natural about the environment. It was an awful thing to witness and I wish I hadn't.

Though we didn't participate, I'm glad I did witness the hosts of Kabukicho in Shinjuku where Tokyo goes to play. Kabukicho is Tokyo's red light district where host/hostess bars are found. Hostess bars are a modern adaptation of the traditional geisha and tea house scene whereby young women (and men) "entertain" paying customers by enjoying drinks, conversation and private time with their guests. We saw signs advertising forty minutes for 600 Yen (roughly $60) in one of these clubs. It is said that no sex is involved but who knows what happens behind closed doors. The hosts are distinctive all looking the same in fashionable jeans with a cool collared shirt and usually a sports jacket and shoes that are waaay too big for their feet. They all have bleached out hair, long and teased into a water fountain style. Hilarious. The young ladies are also well-coiffed, sexy and charming.

Tokyo is a cacophonous land of hedonism and excesses and holds a special notch in my travel belt.

[That] Girl's Gone Wild

2009-04-16T21:19:00.000-07:00

I have beaucoup de choses to share with you. I have just been so busy doing that I haven't had time to write about it. I am not even half finished with Africa stories and then I want to tell you about The Redwood Bar & Grill, San Juan Capistrano, Beechwood, my new bathroom and Tokyo. Yes! I'm going to Tokyo, Japan - the impetus being that I am doing a little side work for my neighbor/friend who is working on launching a project stateside with the help of a Japanese firm so I am essentially a fly on the wall during the meeting/presentation he's giving next week. It's totally spontaneous, and serendipitous, in keeping with my new modus operandi which is to never pass up an opportunity. Besides, given the industry I'm in, which could go sideways at any moment, I need to be receptive. I can't wait to share with you.

2009-03-27T19:11:00.000-07:00

Mornings are glorious in the Delta. It is a comfortable temperature and the light is stunning. I don't know what's different about it but I just loved the dramatic sky of pristine blue swept with billowy cotton ball clouds. The gentle breeze on your face alternately warmed by the sun is lovely. I can only describe the overall smell as fresh. I guess what I'm trying to say is it's God's country - paradise.

We were on a mission to see elephants, giraffes and zebras. We had nary a hope to see rhino and buffalo in these parts at this time of year - it was summer, the rainy season, which means water is readily available most places so the animals don't need to travel to the basin for access - but we had our eyeballs wide open anyway. There are a lot of "magic logs" in the bush. It's a concerted effort to spot the animals and sometimes your imagination gets the best of you. We saw lots of birds, some of our old friends like guinea fowl, hammerkop, African fish eagle and jicanas, and some new like 2 vultures scoping the area from atop their perch. We were giddy over this sighting because we thought just maybe there was some action nearby. If there was we didn't see it but what we did see waaaaayyyyy off over yonder was what looked to be giraffe. As the crow flies it was maybe a 1/2 mile from where we were but it took us a good 15 minutes or more to get over there. It felt like a lifetime since they are very mobile (as you might imagine giraffes can cover a lot of ground in no time) and this is not a zoo. Thankfully for us they found a secluded arbor to graze upon and the sweltering heat of the day hadn't driven them deep into the forest quite yet.

Their beauty is like that of a model with a neck up to 6 feet long, eyelashes to envy and lanky legs that transport them with incredible grace. They are most curious critters, staring you down for the longest time. Don't be fooled by their gentility as they will put up a ferocious fight often hoofing their predators to death in a fatal battle. From afar we'd only seen a single giraffe but as our truck approached a herd of maybe 15 including a handful of unweaned babies was within view, albeit obstructed by the surrounding acacias. We watched them and they watched us with the same intensity for the better part of an hour. They prefer to travel in herds mainly for protection as they are a favorite food source among lions. After a gestation period of fifteen long months, calves "drop" from their mother's womb 5 feet and hope not to break any bones during the process. Barring the aforementioned, babies get up and walk almost immediately. Giraffes are herbivores and prefer acacia trees. It is imperative that they chew food completely and that their neck is not bent went swallowing even water because of the design of their digestive tract. The only way to really tell males and females apart, particularly if they're not standing next to each other is by the size of their horns. Males are generally larger in stature but their horns are much thicker and often the hair is rubbed off of them because of necking. Necking is done both during fighting and sexual rituals, mostly by males. There is a range and variation in color of a giraffe's camouflage coat keeping them safer than many in the wild savannas of Africa.

During morning coffee we had the pleasure of watching an eagle soar across the sky above of us in a maniacal dance with outstretched wings spanning 6 feet. She was probably panicking that we were lingering under the tree that held her nest.

Since Judy was so omnipotent regarding the giraffe and produced them on demand (we said "we want to see giraffe" and the next thing you know Judy said "I think I see giraffe over there off in the distance") we put in our order for elephant and zebra. We heard that another truck had spotted zebra but by the time we made it over to the pasture they were gone. So we're back on the beat and drove right up on a herd of blue wildebeest. For being so ugly these creatures are positively stunning. Their "blue" coats just glisten and gleam in the sunshine as they plod along gobbling up their path. Like giraffe, wildebeest are a favorite lion lunch and the two prey can often be seen together each with the idea that the other one is an easier target.

After lunch a few of us decided to cool off in the pool. It had been a couple of days since I got sunburned so with caution I positioned myself just right under the umbrella and slipped in and out of a lovely nap resting poolside where a cooler of cold drinks including my favorite, Bolingers, was so attentively placed. Non-stop activity made it difficult to journal every day so now was a perfect opportunity to get caught up. Soon it was time for tea and I wanted to check out the library since this was our last day at Moremi so I headed up to the lounge. As I stepped off the long deck leading away from the pool there were two baboons wreaking havoc on the stairway to the lounge and Judy was yelling at them like they were family pets! Apparently she had just witnessed them pulling flowers out of the pots, eating the tops and discarding the rest on the ground. They didn't take too kindly to her ridicule so like smart alecky children they did it faster and with more aggression even swatting at her (as pictured) and showing their teeth. I have to say I was a little frightened since they were standing right in front of me and blocking my path upstairs, oh, and they're WILD ANIMALS! But this was just the beginning of their antics. One of them ripped off a book of matches from somewhere near the fire pit and the other was annoyed that he wouldn't share so the chase was on. Bouncing on and off the thatched roof like it were a trampoline, swinging from limb to limb of the surrounding trees, in and out of the lounge, on and off the deck. It was madness. I had managed to get up to the lounge but now I was trapped until they disappeared into the forest screeching and fighting the whole way.

When I emerged from my tent for tea there were more baboons, or maybe the same imps, but on MY deck this time. We hadn't been briefed on how we should behave when they are that close to you so I stopped in my tracks and waited for them to move, my girlfriend laughing at my paranoia but I wasn't about to get my face sheared off as I still had elephants to see.

Campfire visitor

2009-03-16T17:43:00.000-07:00

The night was upon us and we were getting ready for cocktails and dinner. A chaperone came to escort us to the dining room where a hearty, delicious gourmet meal awaits. For some reason I was feeling extraordinarily tired this night and could hardly keep my head up. I also kept running to the bathroom - probably all the delicious fresh fruit. I later learned that I was not the only one but everyone else thought they had cholera having just come from Zimbabwe. I generally have an iron stomach so I wasn't too concerned - it was just a tad inconvenient. Our group was 18 in number and we took over the whole camp at Moremi. The tables are beautifully set and arranged in a square u-shape around the room with a buffet table at the head. Some of the staff join each table for conversation as the soup is served and the meal is presented by the chef. It's a time of camaraderie and to learn something of the life of those who ardently keep us protected in the wild and provide a most amazing bush experience. Launce is the camp manager at Moremi and is a native of Botswana, in particular the town of Maun, a rustic but burgeoning town considered the gateway to the Delta. It was glaringly evident in Botswana that camp managers are white and the rest of the staff is black. (I'm not sure what to make of this observation. I don't know if it's racism or lack of educational opportunity or what but it was troubling to me and obvious. It didn't appear as though the staff much minded as everybody works equally hard and seemed to have a great rapport). I remember being a little annoyed this night because I was trying to hear what Setch, a local guy, was talking about but I was getting a repetitive historical account of what had just happened out on safari from the girls over-talking him. After dessert I decided just to turn in and try to get a few Zs - my roommate snores to beat the band and my earplugs would alternately fall out or wake me up with throbbing ears. This turned out to be a regrettable decision because after I'd gone to bed a few stayed behind and sat around the fire where a 6 foot cobra snake slithered past them. Daylight comes early in the Okavango Delta and daytime holds activities I am loathe to miss even for a snake sighting.

Where's Waldo?

2009-03-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

Imagine the feeling that rushes over you when you see a live African animal in its natural habitat 20 feet in front of you for the first time. Breathtaking is all I can say. That first afternoon out we saw hippos, a crocodile, leopard, lions, and tracked elephants - none of them with any ease I must add; it was more of a where's Waldo expedition. But the guides are amazing - very professional, intuitive, and collaborative. They work together and share information about tracks and sounds, animal behavior and movement. The safari vehicle is a land cruiser with a canopy and stadium type seating. Besides me (someone who likes nice teeth but otherwise knows nothing about them), occupants in the truck include my friend, Cheryl, a dental hygienist, Cheryl, a teacher and her husband Geoff, a dental sales rep along with Gary another dental sales rep and his wife Judy an office manager in a dental office. These factoids I reveal to give you a sense of what our group was like. The two couples have been married for ages and have amusing and sardonic interactions. Judy and Gary in particular had us all in stitches most of the time with their banter. Cheryl, the teacher, was hilarious asking Frank to repeat and spell everything he said as English is not his first language and she doesn't speak Ndebele - the mother tongue.

We were all donning our safari gear, buttoned up to the neck and down to the ankles with lightweight mosquito repellent & SPF clothing we reinforced with a covering of bug spray just to make sure. I got eaten alive anyway but at least I didn't get malaria, which evidently stays with you forever if contracted. We topped off our fashion statement with hats and rugged shoes which ended up with souvenir elephant dug between the tread. Adornments included sunglasses, binoculars, cameras, water, pen and paper (to record interesting facts). Recall that I mentioned I took my old film camera to use on safari and my digital point and shoot as backup. Well I jammed the film in my camera and broke it the first bloody night out. Hence forward I was solely reliant on my happy snappy which I'm pleased to say performed pretty well.

So after a thorough ornithology lesson and the wonderment that is birds that aren't pigeons and crows it was time to get down to serious game viewing. We first came across a hippo pool where half a dozen or so were bobbing around. Hippos are enormous! The have a slick hairless coat and jaws that will crush just about anything. They are one of the most ferocious creatures in Africa and are responsible for most human deaths there each year (aside from war and disease). They hang out in the cool water during the day, able to stay under water for 6 minutes at a time, and rove around grazing at night. It is said that they are close relatives of whales and porpoises. While not vehemently territorial by nature, hippos spread their dung on trees on the pool's perimeter to stake claim in their watering hole. We were just about to pass through a flooded out dip in the trail when we spotted a 3 foot crocodile swimming in it! Good thing Frank had good reflexes and a reverse gear.

We could tell there were elephants in the area because of the destruction all around us. Trees are uprooted in search of water and bark is peeled off a large tree to get to the sap beneath it. They wrap their strong trunks around tree limbs tearing it off its trunk and stuff the whole thing into their mouth. It seems like they would run out of food in no time in their territory. But nature is so perfect that the seeds coming out during defecation germinate and generate new growth beginning the cycle all over again. We were so excited to see elephants (which evaded us that day) but as we rounded a curve there lay a stunning, slumbering pride of lions in a meadow. Lions are the laziest creature in the wild sleeping 22 hours and hunting the other 2. It is the job of the lioness to track and capture food but the male gets first dibs. A male is not considered part of the pride beyond 3 years old and may have a few prides in his territory. At three, strong and capable lions leave their mothers' clutches and seek their own prides and territories. This pride, about a dozen strong, was guarded by a big beautiful male who acknowledged our presence making sure we weren't a threat. Most continued to dream but a few of them were curious to see who the paparazzi was.

Frank got word that there was a leopard draped over a branch reserving his energy for hunting and waiting for the blistering heat to pass. So we sped off hoping to catch up with him before the other lookieloos chased him away. He let us gawk at him for a few minutes before becoming perturbed. He leaped off the tree and meandered back and forth in front of our vehicles for a while in search of private solitude. He was very cool to let us encroach on his space and most tolerant of our following his every move.

Night was falling and as I've already described cocktail hour as being critical to the safari experience so we high-tailed it over to the lagoon for a glass of wine as the sun set the sky on fire. A botswana sunset is one to behold and one I'll never forget.

March 5, 2009

2009-03-05T14:03:00.000-08:00

Check out what Ron Kaye has to say about the election results and Measure B.

My dog has more sense

2009-03-04T17:27:00.001-08:00

So I woke this am with hope in my heart that things took a drastic detour from the upsetting news last night that the mayor of Los Angeles was probably still the mayor - sadly, he is. But I don't think it was the landslide victory he was hoping for. He earned a paultry 55% meaning only 8% of the voting populous gave him the thumbs up which loosens the cog in his chances of becoming governor next year. Just when you think it couldn't get worse than Arnie "the governator" Shwartzenegger enter Tony V. That would really be a travesty. As it is I am baffled that he sneaked in however narrowly. There isn't anyone I know - conservative or liberal, white, black, brown, purple, rich or poor, who think he is doing a good job. The cronyism is rampant and troubling in this town but that's only part of the issue. If people don't care we're bound to get more of the same and we deserve every lousy, expensive thing they lay on us.

Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves

2009-03-03T18:33:00.000-08:00

Los Angeles voters may have been disenfranchised today. True to form the corrupt city government machine is at work yet again and here's why I make this claim. It could be a series of coincidences but I am not in the mood to give Villaraigosa and his village idiots the benefit of the doubt.

I usually vote at 7am before go to work but this day Damon and I had talked about going together after work. I was on my way home when I got a phone call from my neighbor saying that the polling place where we've voted in every election for 8 years was locked up tight. Alright, so they moved the polling place. We located it on the back of our sample ballots and found that it had moved from a large classroom in a church school with plenty of parking to the back of a minuscule carpet store with no designated parking and inconvenient access. This made me think that well-intentioned voters may have just shined it not willing to endure the grief.

I walked in with my neighbor at 6pm and the volunteers congratulated him as being the 100th voter. One hundred voters in a Mayoral election of the 2nd largest city in America 2 hours before the poll closes? Are you kidding me? I shouldn't be so surprised as the election is being held one month earlier than it usually is and has gotten relatively little press. This particular polling venue was barely identifiable marked only with a dwarfed US flag stuck in the mud street side and a scribbled sign on the entrance to the store which is on a different corner than the building address and front entrance. When we questioned the poll workers they said "hey we just put out what they give us". Finding Easter eggs or the f'n Easter bunny for that matter is probably easier than locating our polling place.

My hope is that there was a enough dissonance with the abysmal performance of this mayor to spur a runoff in May. Tony V doesn't even want to be mayor - he has his sights set on the gubernatorial race next year. But the honest truth is that most people are apathetic - living in little bubbles not paying attention to what their government is doing. And more often than not they are plundering us. The incumbent mayor refused to debate any of his competitors citing that they were insignificant. This sends a message to me that he hasn't got a clue about what's going on in his city because he's never here doing the people's business and would be walloped on the issues. Moreover, it illustrates total contempt for the people of Los Angeles.

I decided to check in on the results before I post this and find that I too have contempt for LA voters. It appears as though the mayor will keep his job and I wonder which city his supporters live in...certainly not the same Los Angeles that I do. It is staggering how poorly engaged people are.

Exercise your right - VOTE!!!!!

2009-03-02T13:04:00.000-08:00

If we are to save Los Angeles and have a hope in hell of restoring our standing as a safe and prosperous city we must unseat this do nothing, corrupt, incompetent mayor. Please go to the polls tomorrow and cast your ballot. It is your duty as a taxpaying American to engage in the political process and get involved in the future of your city. Viva Los Angeles and send Villaragosa back to cleaning toilets!

Bush Life

2009-02-25T19:14:00.000-08:00

We went out on our first safari following tea the afternoon we arrived at Camp Moremi. With much gratitude I landed in Frank's vehicle with my best girlfriend, Cheryl, and two other couples I'd met on the trip. All of us are novice photographers whose primary interest above all else is learning and having a good time. The other 2 trucks in our group were full of photographers donning 8 inch lenses, tripods, monopods, and other annoying paraphernalia. Ours was kicked back and fun-loving making for an even better experience than I could have hoped for. We left camp in our land rover and bounced along the off road trails in the back bush; everything new and and exciting. Frank, our guide, is a 23 year native of the Botswana bush and the son of a true bushman. He told us that he goes out into the wild for a month at a time with nothing more than the clothes on his back. He can survive solely on the land around him and he shared many of the bushman's tips and tricks with us.

I've already mentioned that dozens and dozens of bird species flutter all around us and we happened upon a few of them in the first few minutes of the safari. The national bird, once the lilac breasted roller, is now the African fish eagle. (It changes with the government.) Only one of two fish eagle eggs will survive because the first hatched pecks its sibling's shell so ferociously it snuffs out life. This gorgeous iridescent blue bird pictured is called a long-tail starling.

Frank taught us all about the plant life found in the bush as well. The Marula tree is my personal favorite - coined bar of the jungle by one of the girls with us. Known to make monkeys drunk, its fruit is harvested to make a creamy adult beverage which is served over ice and is just the thing after a day on safari in the heat. We saw sausage trees which nourish giraffes and an abundance of acacias. We learned that elephant ear can be used for toilet paper (or firecrackers) and the bark of Botswana's 3 in 1 tree is a good natural toothbrush and toothpaste. It also stains your lips like lipstick. The leaves of the large fever berry tree are used by villagers to cure malaria and wild sage is rubbed on hunters' skin to mask their scent plus it repels mosquitos. Many herbs are found in the wild like basil which can be used easily in cooking but wild sage will spoil meat. Certain prey will deliberately eat wild sage so their predators will find them foul and steer clear. On that note... we learned that predators' eyes are situated on the front of their face but located on the side for prey. There is a tree called the strangler fig. New seeds germinate and grow in crevices literally choking off sunlight to the host tree which eventually dies as competition in a dense dark forest is fierce.

The back woods is riddled with termite hills. I initially thought that it was the remnants of trees just chowed down to dust by termites. They are actually started by one male and one female which mix their saliva with dirt and start building their palace. They spawn and the next generation, soldiers, continue to build and protect the nest before giving birth to the workers. A live mound resembles wet cement. One that is no longer living is just a dry heap and is a haven for black mambo snakes. This is significant because the mounds are also used by humans as cover when nature calls. :]

"Love Bites"

2009-02-21T13:12:00.000-08:00

I generally like to stay home on Friday nights because I'm so tired from pushing myself through the week but it does make the weekend feel longer if you go out and do something. My neighbor is a very competent actor and is playing in a show call Love Bites on stage at the Elephant Theater on theater row in Hollywood weekends through March 14th. It is the 8th volume of their annual Valentine's themed production under the artistic direction of David Fofi presented in 8 vignettes described as not so romantic & dysfunctional love stories. Each short comedy is an interesting (and disturbing) interpretation of love and the underlying pleasures, pain and passion that is the reality of such a knotty topic. All eight are well written and well acted but four standout as exceptional: Karinanaed (the overwhelming favorite) Everything I Do (starring my friend, Matt) Dirt, and Strings. Go on....'tis a cheap night out.

Pula!

2009-02-17T23:16:00.000-08:00

Pula is Botswana's currency and literally means blessings; blessings of a more traditional ilk like rain, a good harvest and good health. Botswana and all its blessed charms is my new favorite country. We learned all about village life on the the one hour road trip from Victoria Falls over the Botswana border taking us past "four corners", the junction of Zimbabwe, Zambia, Botswana and Namibia. The road is a paved two lane highway running right smack through the wilderness. We had to slam on the brakes as a leopard leaped out in front of the van and darted across the road. For miles we drove over heaping mounds of fresh elephant dung and minutes later had to stop the vehicle and wait for the behemoth dung maker to cross to the other side. Our destination was the Okavango Delta accessible only by chartered airplane. We drove to the Kasane airport which is nothing more than what would be called a regional airport and climbed aboard a 20 seat plane. Weight is a very important factor limited to 20 kilos so many of the people in my group took only the necessities and stored the rest in a secure place at the airport. Somehow I got to sit up front with the pilot for the one hour flight over Chobe and Moremi National forests. I was shocked to see that auto pilot is used for most of the flight even through severe storm clouds.

The Delta is 27,000 square kms in area and home to only 60 camps. Eco-tourism is the mainstay industry in Botswana and the government is most concerned about it's preservation - both the area and the industry. Once we left the storms in our wake and could see the Delta in full view it is like nothing I've ever seen before. The closest resemblance I can think of is the Everglades in Florida. We landed on a dusty, gravel-y patch in the middle of nowhere. If you were on the correct side of the plane on approach you could spot giraffes grazing. There was a herd of stunning impala as well as our camp crew there to greet us. They told us that occasionally the ground staff have to drive their Landrovers like maniacs to chase off the animals grazing on the "runway". We deplaned in 100 degree heat, and humidity that robs your breath. We secured our places in vehicles with guides who we would remain with for the next couple of days and headed for camp. Camp Moremi is where we would make our home for the next 2 nights.

We pulled up to a hidden hideway in the trees on the water's edge and were met by Setch and Angi handing us cool cloths to wipe our faces from the journey. They asked each of us our names, matching our rooms and luggage, and escorted us to the dining hut for a gourmet lunch, al fresco. After lunch we had a couple of hours to get settled in and relax a bit before tea.

Setch showed us to our tent winding through the lush grounds and filled us in on the camp rules and expected program. Since this is a natural habitat for myriad bush animals we were not allowed to walk around the camp unescorted after dark. Our tent was one removed from "hippo highway". The tents are affixed to stilted wood decks about a hundred yards apart appointed with lofty beds, comfy linens, a fan, mosquito netting and bug spray both for room and body, tea station,
and an ensuite bathroom.
There is a seating area outside for enjoying the monkeys and baboons swinging in the trees along with countless species of birds and the choruses they sing. The most common is that of the red-eyed dove gargling a tune that sounds like he's introducing himself..."I am a red-eyed dove, I am a red-eyed dove, I am a red-eyed dove....over and over again to infinity - and insanity if you let it get to you but better than horns and sirens any day.

Electricity is only available during the day via generators which is turned off at night making the orchestra even more audible. It is so loud and soothing out there in the bush with all the animals lulling you to sleep singing, grunting, farting - yes, we could hear hippos farting, or at least making a similar noise - and baboons make this weird sort of clicking noise. Once you can turn your brain off which is trying to identify the different sounds it is the most beautiful sleep ever, even though it's still hot and sticky and the luxury of a fan is removed.

At Camp Moremi the safari experience is an all inclusive vacation and the program is fulfilling in every way. The staff, who are such warm, funny and amazing people arise at 5am and give you a morning "knock up" - they come to the door and softly say hellooooo until you answer indicating you're awake. They return at 5:30 to escort you to the dining hut for a nourishing continental breakfast of homemade pastries, yogurt, fruit like papaya, lychee, mango, & passion fruit, coffee, etc. before you depart for a 6 am safari. The morning safari is about 4 hours long with a little snack break in between - more homemade goodies and coffee. Then you return to the camp and have a little time to freshen up before a gourmet brunch is served. The food is unbelievable! Delta Desert & Safari, the corporate conglomerate that operates this and other camps in the Delta, plans the same meals for each camp and delivers food twice/month to each. There seems to be no waste at all. Whatever is left over from dinner the night before may be found in your lunch the next day in some variation like a casserole or stew. The food is some of the best I've ever tasted - they are very creative in the meals they prepare using seasonal and readily available fresh foods. The afternoon is free to do whatever you wish - swim, nap, journal, read up on the Delta in the lounge library, shop for local souvenirs in the curio shop, whatever you fancy. Tea time is 3:30pm consisting of a light and delicious snack and the evening safari at 4. With a stop for cocktails at sunset around 7ish - gin and tonic being the signature drink - you're returned between 7:30 and 8 for a quick change of clothes and more cocktails before dinner, usually at 8:30. Dinner is served in the formal dining room which is a very open and modern space with rich leather furniture and African inspiration. The staff introduces each other and the meal they have hand prepared for the evening.

After dinner a fire is built in an open pit outside where you can enjoy a digestif or coffee and have a chat around the fire under the wide open summer southern sky. This is the point in the evening where the escorts get a great deal of exercise walking back and forth from campfire to tent as people begin to nod off after such a thrilling and adventurous day.

Hooray for Snow

2009-02-17T21:45:00.000-08:00

President's Day weekend always falls right around Damon's birthday so we usually plan a getaway. This year I thought it would be fun to go skiing. Damon and I have been together for 13 years and we've never skied together. We have family who lives in central Oregon near Mount Bachelor, part of a volcanic chain on the south east side of the Cascade mountain range, and arguably some of the best skiing on the west coast. I have been fortunate enough to ski Whistler, British Columbia in the Canadian Rockies and Lake Tahoe in California's own Sierra Nevada range (as well as local mountain resorts) and Bachelor is a worthy rival. I am merely a novice on two little sticks but I like to have fun and have new experiences. I really want to try snow boarding but I'm glad I was talked out of it this trip because I would have spent the day by myself on the bunny hill. As it were, me, Damon and his sister's family were all happy on the blue runs and could all carve up the mountain together.

Only a 25 minute drive from town, Bachelor boasts a 9000 + feet summit. My sister-in-law said the Bend area has had the mildest of the five winters they've lived there but had been graced by storms up from the south for the week prior to our visit. When we arrived on Saturday morning, St. Valentine's Day, it was cold, gray and snowing. It continued to snow intermittently the whole weekend leaving a beautiful blanket on the mountain peaks. We had awesome 2500' runs of fresh powder not unbearably crowded for a holiday weekend. Fatigued with sore muscles (mostly from playing Wii baseball) I fell a few times on my last run of the day. Falling isn't such a big deal especially on marshmallow but getting back up again is brutal work. I'd just cringe each time I felt myself lose balance or get stuck in a heavy drift because I could foresee the difficulty trying to snap into skis on a slippery vertical wearing myself out trying to keep my footing. I realized I should just turn in my gear and go to the bar. The sun, hidden in dense wet clouds most of the day, sat over the summit like a halo as I sipped Irish coffee awaiting the rest of my crew to take their last run. I sat on the chalet terrace enjoying the contrast of warm rays on my face and crisp air in my lungs thinking how perfect some days are.

This is a cool shot from the air of the back side of Half Dome in Yosemite National Park

Bring on '09

2009-02-07T11:17:00.000-08:00

Vusa is one of the guides working for Shearwater Adventures and was manning a kayak on our rafting trip. We had a chance to talk on the way back to our hotel. He hails from one of the villages I described and gave me a little more insight to life on such a homestead. He said he was lucky to live close to school when he was a child but some of his 35 classmates would walk up to 50 kilometers each way to school. Classes began at 7 am and finished by 2 pm so they had enough time to get home before dark in winter. He said he loved school because they had a soccer field out back. He honed his skills and played professionally as a young man competing throughout Zimbabwe. Since he'd grown up with the river in his his back yard it was only natural for him to return to it once his soccer career ended. Now he feels as though the Zambezi no longer challenges him and he as been sending his c.v. around the world with hopes of landing a job with another exciting adventure company. Born the first of five children and the only boy, he himself had two sons but one of them died of pneumonia. Without complaint he expresses that he hopes for a better future for his remaining son.

We were in a very remote part of Zimbabwe. I don't even know how far from a proper city we were. I was trying to take in both the landscape and as much information from Vusa as possible while we drove - snapping photos not being terribly opportunistic. But this is a general idea of what a village dwelling looks like. I missed a precious shot of a handful of ladies standing around a large pump, maybe seven feet tall, one of them rocking up and down on the hand crank and the others awaiting their turn to extract water from the ground. Women have enormous responsibility in this way of life much like it was here a hundred years ago. But there is a sense of gratitude that emanates from them anyway.

Today is New Year's Eve and there is a celebration at the Kingdom Hotel. The Christmas decorations are still up and the staff is milling around making sure the dining room is arranged for dinner and dancing while festive enough to usher in a promising new year. I was spent. We'd been burning it for days and New Year's is never a party I really care about. I thought I'd write a little and then lay down for a nap before dinner having the thought if I wake up I'll participate and if I don't I don't. I finally nodded off but shortly thereafter was awakened to a nice glass of Argentine wine that had been transported from the States, spent 3 days Lord knows where and then delivered unadulterated to my bedside. Melbac, a mellow grape varietal perfectly suited to the Argentine climate, was the kick in the pants I needed to get my lampshade on and cut up a rug. A pleasant dinner was served with a few local favorites, save the caterpillar, including a beautiful turkey. The entertainment was supposed to be a band until 11pm followed by a DJ till 2am. The band (to my chagrin) played horrible songs like "I Shot the Sherriff" in a dreadfully uncool way aaaaaall niiiiiight looooong. Everybody else loved it, especially the staff. The dance floor was packed - illuminated only by the bluish glow of cell phones held high to capture the memories. We wore paper crowns on our heads - the prize from our Christmas crackers found on our dinner plates - and paper streamers spun rainbows from the cieling fans. The champagne went around the table and we helped to elect Lois the best dancer of the night. Lois is a woman in our group who had just celebrated her 74th birthday a couple of days earlier - on the plane in fact. She made John Travolta look like a chump! The DJ never did show up but that didn't phase anyone in the least. I turned into a pumpkin shortly after midnight but I heard that the party went on 'till the wee hours. Evidently my friend Vusa showed up asking for me but I was long in dreamland. He had invited us to come to a party with the locals being held at "Shoestrings" but I couldn't get any of the guys to go along as an escort. The honest truth being that I just wasn't brave enough to go on my own. We had to be up bright and early for our transfer to Botswana and I wasn't about to get left behind in a country where credit cards aren't accepted and hyperinflation prohibits normal commercial functioning. I don't need much but potable water is more than a luxury in my book.

Rollin' down the river

2009-02-05T18:40:00.000-08:00

The Zambezi river is the 4th longest and one of the most powerful rivers in the world. It undulates from its spring-well in Zambia through 5 African countries and dumps into the Indian ocean off the coast of Mozambique. Its waters are coveted for an amazing rafting experience. Half our group wanted to raft and the other half went on a leisurely breakfast cruise. Either way, being anywhere near the Zambezi is an exhilarating treat. I wish I had pictures to share but we couldn't take our cameras with us. One of the girls on our raft had a waterproof camera (my next purchase) so hopefully she'll hook me up with some cool images. We started of the day with an orientation in a rickety pavilion overhanging the gorge where the Zambezi rages below. Skinner, an energetic 40 something year old guy who grew up on the river and knows it like he knows himself, presented the briefing and passed out death waivers. With the humor we'd come to expect from local Zimbabweans he made us wonder if we shouldn't just jump off the ledge and save him the trouble of navigating our raft. I guess they have to prepare you for the worst; after all, at the very least the Zambezi is chock full of crocodile. There were people from all over the world signed up on the trip. We met people from Croatia, England and various parts of Africa. A family from England stood next to me - the teenage daughter so scared she was in tears and I thought the Mom was going to pass out. Feeling as though we had a good sense of Skinner's skill set we lobbied hard to get in his raft. He acquiesced and we were off on a long drive to the river's edge.

We suited up with jackets & helmets and grabbed our oars for a daring and dangerous hike into the gorge. Though I'm not too coordinated as a rule I didn't have any trouble but those who have bad knees, etc. were hatin' it. Of course there were no stairs, hand railings or anything of the kind. It was loose uneven terrain with the odd vine or rock to catch your footing. The occasional waterfall made the path a little slick. Amidst all this beauty I couldn't help the pessimistic thoughts that crept into my head as I dreaded the hike OUT at the end of the day. We finally made it down to the river. After all the walking and coffee I desperately needed to "check the prop". This was the fodder our guide needed to get started with shenanigans. It was hard to concentrate when guides are bombarding you with water from every angle while one is grabbing your leg pretending to be a crocodile.

Safety is paramount so we all piled into our raft and took a few instructions including practicing falling out. I think we had seven rafts in our excursion and as many kayaks to fish out the swimmers. We had all rafted before but weren't sure what to expect from the rapids given the frightful orientation we'd just been through and knowing the strength of the river's current. Rapids are rated on a scale of one through six - 6 being the most gnarly. There are 24 rapids in a few miles stretch of the river, most of them class four. Rapid #9 is NEVER navigable no matter what your skill level. Usually you raft 1-8 and then get out of the river and walk all of your equipment around #9. Today, since the downpour a couple of days earlier, the river was too high to walk around #9 so we started at #10. The rapids have names like Obliterator, Terminator, Washing Machine, The Ugly Sisters & Mother. We had 3 guys - 2 occupying the front positions and therefore setting the pace- and 4 girls in our raft, plus Skinner at the back. One of the guys in the front was more interested in video taping than paddling so our rhythm was a tad off. About half way through the guys were sent to the back and the girls took over the lead. (It was a much more cohesive strategy I must say). So we hit the first rapid and rocked it! It was so exciting. Each one got increasingly more so as we crested the waves and our little dingy was tossed about. I had hoped for some class fives 'cause I've never done it before but the fours were exhilarating. We hammered it for a few rapids, one after the other but there was plenty of opportunity to float the river enjoying the stunning scenery. It was kind of like pictures I've seen of the fjords in Norway. Incidentally, Skinner spends the summer working the rivers in Norway. There were lots of gorgeous waterfalls and a number of animal species make the ravine their home. At times we could swim and splash around near the raft but one of the more exciting parts was jumping in and hanging onto the raft as it swiftly sailed down the river. So much fun! None of our people got flipped but there were many floaters throughout the day from other rafts.

Facing sheer rock I started the climb out of the gorge at a good clip. Endurance isn't my strength and I struggled much of the way up. It was the hottest part of the day, muggy, and thick with bugs. I got the worst sunburn of my life on my legs and I thought I was going to die. Thankfully there were porters to carry the rafts up for us. I definitely would have died otherwise. True to form bottles of Bollingers and a bounty of food awaits. We were accosted by young men selling carvings of wood and soapstone indigenous to Zimbabwe trying to plunder us for as much as they could. They even asked for the clothes off our backs and shoes on our feet. It was questionable whether they needed it themselves or intended to sell it. As long as tourists keep enjoying the Zambezi the population will keep trying to get their money.

Sh*t from Shinola

2009-02-02T20:13:00.000-08:00

The Victoria Falls area is beautiful to explore. Our morning started with a walking tour of the Zimbabwe side of the falls. It felt good to have a little exercise after a 20 hour flight from the states. We left Saturday morning from L.A. and flew to D.C. With just a one hour layover we were off to Johannesburg, South Africa; a fifteen hour flight. The seat next to me was vacant so I was able to curl up in two seats for a nap or two, an uncomfortable nap but sleep nonetheless. We arrived in Jo-burg at 4pm Sunday (10 hours time difference). So a 2 hour walk in the fresh tropical air of a rain forest adjacent the falls was most refreshing. Our guide, Sim, suggested we suit up in 3/4 length rain jackets since we'd be descending into the gorge a bit and the mist from the falls would drench us. It did, as did the rain storm that blew overhead under the brightly shining sun. It was a lush forest laden with vines and monkeys and incredible vistas of the falls from every imaginable angle. There is a new gorge being carved into the Zambia side which should only take about 10 billion years to break through. One of the rock faces had just a few leaks springing from it and was otherwise dry. I said to someone I bet there are extreme sportsmen who will find a way to repel down that wall as volumes of water rage along side. Sure enough, one of the guys said he'd seen a group of people scaling the cliff without harnesses the very next day. Crazy!

From there we piled into a helicopter for a sky tour of, wait for it, the falls. From this vantage point you get a real sense of it's gargantuan scale. One of my favorite pics is this one of the Zambezi zigzagging the terrain with the mist rising up from the river. I wasn't really excited about going to Vic Falls in truth - I've been to Niagra and seen waterfalls in Hawaii and other places - but it is truly spectacular and I'm happy to have had the experience. From the air we saw hippos frolicking in their spot near Devil's pool and on the road back to our hotel we stopped to view a 4000 year old Baobob tree, found mainly in the savannas of Africa. Pretty cool stuff. Our days began very early to beat the heat of the day. We had afternoons free to swim, nap or whatever before activities began again in late afternoon.

This afternoon we had our first safari - on the back of an elephant. Safari elephants have been orphaned but are worked with and cared for by gentle human beings on a private sanctuary. Orphaned elephants, as you may not know, are dependent on a nurturing and attentive mother figure for their very survival. They are, however, still wild animals. My elephant was called Doma, a middle aged two ton tessy with little more than food on her mind. Elephants are herbivores and need to eat nearly 200 kilos/day. They like the sap inside the bark of trees and literally peel the bark from bottom to top of a 20 foot tree to get it. Branches are all fair game too as they wrap their trunks around them, give a good tug and shovel it into their mouth. They will even uproot a tree in search of the water beneath it.

Generally you ride two persons plus the guide on each elephant. But one of the elephants wasn't feeling well and there weren't enough available for our group when we arrived so I rode between two other girls. African elephants are so enormous that you have to practically do the splits to sit on them. I'm not that limber. But at least I was sandwiched. My poor girlfriend in the front was sitting on the "hump" and had my fingers in her crotch the whole time because the mandatory safety grip was underneath her. And the one in the back felt like she was teetering off Doma's rear end - bear in mind we were about one story high.

While we learned a lot and saw some incredible scenery the best animal viewing this time out was impala, water buck, tortoises, and dung beetles. Talk about fascinating. Dung beetles attack the elephant dung within minutes and start rolling it like snowballs. Then they dig a gopher hole in the earth and cram the dung ball down inside. The female comes along and burrows her eggs in the dung, the male fertilizes them and the dung becomes an incubator for the next generation.

Tea time in Africa is a serious affair; out come the cocktails and finger foods after every activity. There's nothing more refreshing than a bottle of Bollinger lager after traversing the bush on the rump of an elephant.

The Year of the Ox

2009-01-31T19:47:00.000-08:00

I Spent the day in Chinatown bringing in the year of the ox and the start of the 4,707th year on the Chinese calendar. We started off the morning having Dim Sum. Dim Sum is a snack served at tea or breakfast time and consists of meat, vegetables and seafood in various dumpling type preparations and is a very popular family gathering. At the Empress in downtown LA, the maitre d' seats you at a table with a guest check and a pot of tea. The servers wheel around with trolley carts, each with a different dish on them, you pick out what you want and they stamp your check. Everything is in Chinese so its difficult to know exactly what you're ordering - some hits, some misses - but it's certainly adventurous. It's very cheap and a fun and filling way to eat. In honor of the New Year a troupe came through the restaurant doing a traditional lion dance.

It's been years since I've visited Chinatown so after breakfast we strolled through the courtyard where a crowd was already gathering for the celebration. There was a stage in the center and a line up of customary folly was scheduled all afternoon. The first act was a group of seven synchronized drummers beating their drums with fury.

I was amazed by the diverse crowd turnout. It was a wonderful representation of Los Angeles and all the different ethnicities we
attract. Next up was the Lion dance. It was rather impressive because each lion is commandeered by two people - one at the head and one managing the body - who are so well coordinated in their movements in near perfect sync with the symbols clanging out percussion rhythms.

Following was a slew of acrobats and warriors. Their focus and incredible agility was intense. Young girls bent their bodies into pretzels, spun hula hoops on every limb while others balanced vases extending three feet in the air on the end of sticks from their nose. Showing off their strength and talent a group of young men tumbled and did handsprings through small rings like Olympic gymnasts before flying through the air on poles 15 feet high as effortless as monkeys.Then warriors display their expertise with nun-chucks and Kill Bill style whirly things. They even sparred with swords while blindfolded. Amazing.

By now it was time for the parade. I'm not a huge fan of parades but I thought this might be a little different experience. It wasn't. We'd seen all the excitement I had hope for so we only stuck around long enough to see the dragon which was maybe 60 feet long manned by about 20. It was a very interesting cultural experience plus I found my new favorite go to gift shop called Flock Shop. The owners, Michelle and her husband, insist on carrying only domestically made artisan items for the urban lifestyle. Just another reason to visit Chinatown.

It Takes A Village

2009-01-30T16:43:00.000-08:00

For being one of the seven natural wonders of the world and consequently a tourist destination, Victoria Falls is surprisingly undeveloped. There are a scant few hotels in the area and town is nondescript except that it looks like any 3rd world small town where tourism is the mainstay; ramshackle buildings riddled with tour companies for thrill-seekers, adorned with unemployed loiterers. We learned that about 1/2 Zimbabwe's population (about 5 million people) live in villages and exist as if it were another century. The only upside to this arrangement is that they do not rely on their ill-conceived government for anything. The current predicament of a contaminated water supply not withstanding. Otherwise they abide by their traditions.

Each village has a village head (leader) who is overseen by a chief. The chief may have 4 villages under his authority and he acts as the magistrate for each. The chief and heads confer on village practices, crime punishment, land distribution and other such matters. Villages are self-sustaining and coalescent in nature. Decisions regarding infrastructure are made collectively and constructed with resources found on the land. For example if they want to build a school everyone contributes to it's construction. Most of what they need can be found in the bush around them but on the occasion that they should need to purchase building materials they will raise the money or sell some of their assets. They grow their own food - mainly maize, sorghum, squash, pumpkin - and cure illness through traditional witch doctor methods, antidotes often derived from local plants and fruits, etc.

Land is free and is given to the eldest born boy by the chief. He just need ask for it. Huts are erected of tree branches and bark, and roofs thatched with grasses. Floors are made of clay earth and the exterior walls are plastered with dung. Parents share one hut as the master bedroom and there will be additional huts for the girls to share and one for the boys. There is always a separate kitchen hut and those where grains and dried meat is stored. Multiple marriages are rare these days but in the event that a man takes more than one wife each will have her own bedroom and kitchen. It is forbidden for the wives to share kitchen utensils. They can share their husband but not their spoons. Visitation is entirely up to the husband but protocol is that the eldest wife is the most respected and the youngest is the most loved. Each villager is born in the kitchen and everyone dies in the kitchen (pregnant ladies are put there to deliver and the sick lay up there too).

The eldest son is in charge of the family assets - livestock, crop accumulation. The youngest son is expected to remain on the homestead and care for the elders and the land repeating the cycle with his own family. It is assumed that female children will marry and move into their husband's home so family assets are not passed to them in order to keep the family fortune pure. If a man bears only daughters the uncles will benefit from the fruit of his labor. Marriages are not often arranged anymore and occur much younger than they used to. People used to marry in their late 20's but now they start families earlier so they can be around to raise their children since AIDS is so prevalent. Because as much as 25% of the population has AIDS, disease is feared as hospitals are often hundreds of kilometers away and they have no means of getting there or even paying for services if they can.

As primitive as this lifestyle seems there is something so pure and functional about it. Yes, it's a hard life, toiling in the sun and literally performing rain ceremonies for days on end to inspire Mother Nature's mercy. But ask yourself if your life is any less hard. We are not nearly as self-reliant as we'd like to believe.

Mosi-oa Tunya (Smoke that Thunders)

2009-01-29T20:00:00.000-08:00

Zimbabwe is wonderful in every unimaginable way. I realize we were on vacation and most of our encounters were with people in hospitality but I find it difficult to find the words to express how warm and beautiful the people are. The country is desperate but you wouldn't know it by the spirit of its people. When we got off the plane in Victoria Falls it was midday and already temperatures were soaring. December is the peak of the rainy season and the height of summer in the Southern Hemisphere. We patiently waited behind dozens of people to reach the immigration and passport control agents. We purchased our visas and waited for our names to be recorded in an official guest book accompanied by a stamp in our passports. While waiting for others in the group I saw a couple of men conversing. One of them saw a newspaper sticking out of my bag and asked if he could peruse it. I gladly gave it to him and took the opportunity to open conversation. His name is Wellington and he's 35 years old. He works at the airport and is the sole breadwinner for his family of seven including his small children and elderly parents. He told me earns about $5.00 US per month. Like many of the men I was fortunate enough to speak to he was educated in the capitol city of but returned to his hometown for work. Zimbabwe boasts a 94% literacy rate but is eclipsed by dim employment prospects as unemployment is roughly 75% according to Wellington and corroborated by others. I quizzed him about Mugabe and he concurred that he's crazy but was somewhat sympathetic and cynical at the same time citing that the opposition is no better. We discussed cholera, a problem he does blame on the government and resents that accurate death figures are not published. He ridiculed the UN's policy on sanctions reminding me that it's the masses who suffer, not the elite. I recall him using the phrase "hunger is on our doorstep daily". The thought gives me chills. What Wellington complimented and really struck me is his government's ability to make people feel like tomorrow will be better. Whether or not the government is responsible the sentiment is exactly one I witnessed time and again throughout this journey. I can only describe the people I interacted with as souls of shining light. They are happy, bright, funny, smart, thoughtful and simply glow. By our standards they don't have very much but are so rich in attributes that really matter. It was quite a life a lesson being in their presence.

Stepping away from the tarmac in Vic Falls there was a group of men in traditional garb, or lack thereof, dancing and chanting to rhythmic beats. This was a most charming segue to the sauntering livestock we stopped our vehicle for just as we pulled onto the road. The main road into town is paved but most outlying roads are a brilliant red clay. People, baboons, wort hogs, goats, cows, donkeys, elephants, leopards all share the soft shoulder alongside the asphalt. Incidentally, it would seem they are all vying for the same food resources as well. Zimbabwe once boasted being Africa's food basket and now half its population relies on international food aid. The other half rely solely on mother nature as they live in primitive agrarian villages and exchange no currency whatsoever - wealth being measured in livestock. I'll describe more on their traditions later. For now I want to get down to some of the fun stuff we did. Our schedule was jam-packed the whole time so after dumping our belongings at the hotel we headed to Devil's pool. Unbeknownst to us the pool is only accessible from the Zambian side of the gorge carved by the mighty Zambezi river.

Our vehicle slowed as we approached the Zimbabwe/Zambia border and the guide's voice over the mic warned that we should refrain from taking photos. Unfortunate because it was like watching a movie. Hoards of downtrodden were there to peddle their goods, including "souvenir" currency, as we disembarked. One US dollar would buy 2.2 million Zimbabwe dollars at the bank but these desperate souls were selling a one million dollar note for "just a buck". We filed past the masses along the dusty dirt road into a dilapidated building to have our one day visa issued and fee collected. Women waited patiently with boxes of bread while their rickshaw looking delivery cart and driver awaited on the other side of the border as tourists cut the line. And well-behaved shy and curious children pinned themselves to their mothers dresses. The guard, lifeless in the heat, limbs hanging over his desk inside an open shed with a newspaper over his face to keep the bugs off, was startled by our presence at the heavy iron arm marking the invisible boundary. The process was repeated just a 1/2 kilometer away to clear our passports. Minutes later we arrived at a beautiful manicured parkland. It was the Royal Livingston resort property. Walking through the breezy lobby of this hotel engulfed with natural light and British colonial island antiques felt like Humphrey Bogart was about to sache up to the poolside bar any minute. As we cleared the French doors a dazzle of zebras was in our path not 15 feet away. I was so overwhelmed by their stunning beauty and proximity that the orientation regarding Devil's Pool was a little fuzzy. We all jumped into little power fishing boats for transport to Livingston Island. In true hospitable African fashion a cool lychee drink was offered as we docked and commenced our short, picturesque hike to the falls. We passed the "loo with a view" which is a glamorous outhouse open to the Zambezi and the mist of the falls. The island is lush and riddled with all kinds of beautiful things from orchids and lilies to myriad species of butterflies and millipedes galore. As we approached the falls the cooling mist was welcome in the sticky air but the slippery algae covering our rocky footpath was a little hairy since we were right on the edge of the gorge. Alex, one of the guides, grabbed my hand so we could get pictures over the edge and I said "what do you say we jump...just like Thelma and Louise". And he nodded vigorously. And then I thought, OMG I don't know this man or anything about his life and mental state and quickly withdrew my hand. He was as witty as I thought I was - a trait common in all the the local people we met. I can see how people would be drawn into the beauty of a water fall if you have a death wish - it's pretty inviting. So we made our way along the precipice to the jumping off point for Devil's Pool.

Devil's pool is a natural "eddie" or pooling rock formation right on the edge of Main Falls where the water tumbles over at a height of 111 meters or over 300 feet. Evidently the river is only passable in December when the water is at it's lowest and you can walk out to it across the river on a normal day. But this December day was different. They had just had over 18 hours of rain and the river was significantly higher than usual for this time of year and the current was strong. The guides told us we needed to be strong swimmers in order to endure the current out to the pool. Since it was effectively my first day in Africa and I'm a lousy swimmer I decided to hang back. But some of my group braved it. The guides stripped down to their underwear and lead the swimmers over the slick and craggy rocks like a kindergarten class hand to hand. We watched as they swam with the current on a diagonal not 300 yards from the edge of the falls to a tiny bush in the middle of the river to catch their breath before the next leg of the relay. With great relief they all made it gingerly into the pool; only the guides doing any kind of tricks. Time spent at the bush on the return trip was longer as they heeded the hippos bathing in the water just behind them before floating back ashore. They said swimming in the current was a breeze compared to being in the pool with a toe so strong it wanted to suck them over the falls. They had to wedge between 2 rocks to keep from succumbing to the river's force.

Afternoon tea was served under a canopy on the island. We indulged in fruity Pimm's Cup cocktails, delicious chicken curry tartlets, and oodles of laughs before returning to the resort where more entertainment awaits. Is there anything more fun than a barrel of monkeys? Not in my opinion. Vervet monkeys are as much a part of the Zimbabwe landscape as the trees they swing from. You can't help noticing the most prominent feature - giant robin's egg blue balls in the male vervet. Overall the monkey is quite small in stature but sports disproportionately sized testes. I asked one of the guides why that is and he said it makes them more attractive to their mates. I thought I would try to get away with that argument in my household. :] We saw lots of babies and learned that monkeys mate all year long with a gestation period of 7 months. The babies weren't very old with barely any hair and very alien looking. While they like to exercise their playful independence they don't drift too far away from their mothers teats - disturbingly long and painful looking protuberances.

Our first day in such a heavenly place, full of Pimm and vigor, made us hail David Livingstone for stumbling into the "smoke that thunders" during his African expedition.

Who's in your 5?

2009-01-27T19:59:00.000-08:00

My fav 5 at the moment happens to be Africa's big 5. Gaze upon their beauty...

You're not my friend

2009-01-21T21:19:00.000-08:00

If you're looking here for Africa photos you're not my friend on facebook.

I have over 2000 images to weed through so it may be a while before I post them here in bulk. In the meanwhile I put a few pics up on facebook for your viewing pleasure.

The Boma

2009-01-20T22:00:00.000-08:00

I guess I'll start by explaining the picture in the previous post. It was taken the night before New Year's eve in Zimbabwe and the back story is as follows. We were staying at an African influenced American style hotel which clearly catered to western travelers. Since cholera is pandemic in the country at the moment it is assumed that people will want to eat in the hotel restaurants rather than venturing out into the small town of Victoria Falls for nourishment. However, the choices are not so adventurous - pizza, TexMex or a very expensive buffet. For me, one of the reasons to travel is to experience the culture including the food. After a couple of lousy burgers I asked the server to recommend a local place where we could get some authentic African faire. She thought we might enjoy The Boma so our group leader arranged for us to dine there. We arrived to be greeted with colorful African printed cloth that was draped over each of us like a toga and ushered in to a large hut (effectively) - partially thatched-roof, partially open to the starry sky. Refreshments of locally brewed tangy beer made with "maize", a staple in the local diet, was served. Then came the appetizers: smoked crocodile and a ostrich & guineafowl pate. The band fired up after the first course and every diner was given a drum. As you might imagine we made a horrific noise and had the best time doing it. It's much harder than it looks but it cleanses the soul. A local man was coming around with face paint and we all made like good sports. I told him I wanted to look like a fierce warrior. We chatted it up and laughed a lot during the 5 minutes it took him to transform me and I asked if he was making me into a target. With true Ndebele humor he quizzically replied, "I thought you were fierce". So fierce I was that I marched up to the BBQ pit and loaded my plate with wort hog, kudu steak and buffalo stew and devoured it like a native. I didn't try the mopani worms but would have had deep fried caterpillar if I'd seen it. Though it was reminiscent of a Hawaiian Luau our African experience was on the upswing. What a great night.

I'm home!

2009-01-19T20:42:00.000-08:00

And ready to get blogging about Africa the beautiful. I'm not exactly sure where to start so I'll write individual tales and probably skip around a lot. I'm trying to get my photos organized so I can post them as a slide show on this page. So keep checking back as I'll be writing soon.

Poo Poo on Photos

2008-12-12T18:15:00.000-08:00

I am beginning to develop a real disdain for photographers. I have 2 cameras - one really old mechanical camera that I have scarcely used in 20 years and one fairly new point and shoot digital, which I also hardly ever remember to use. As you know I leave for Africa in 2 weeks. Most of the travelers with me are proficient (and prolific for that matter) photographers and have been inundating my headspace with grand ideas of the type of equipment I should have: 32 gig memory cards, card readers, external storage devices, extra batteries and film, power packs..... and on and on on. Then I go in to Adventure 16 for a few last minute items and the salesman says "BTW, what are you shooting with?" And then proceeded to make me feel like it was impossible to properly document my experience unless I purchased $1000.00 Nikon and inferred that I would regret spending so much money to get to the continent and not splurge for a decent camera. This caused me a great deal of anxiety for a few minutes until I realized that my creative expression comes through my prose and my pen (keyboard). I think Africa may be better experienced through her smells and sounds rather than viewing it through a 3 inch lens.

"It never rains in California...."

2008-11-29T09:52:00.001-08:00

Ha! Who says we don't experience autumn in the southwest? This picture - not very well composed (I was driving) - was taken in a random neighborhood on my way home from work the other day. The colors are brilliant and rival any I've seen in the east. Check out the black storm clouds in the background. The other was taken from by kitchen window a few hours later. The billowy storm clouds in the distance are illuminated by the setting sun just behind us.

Happy Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T10:10:00.000-08:00

What are you giving thanks for?

Heaven and earth

2008-11-21T21:31:00.000-08:00

It's sunset season here on the pacific coast. I don't know what it is about winter but it brings with it sweeping skies that play with the sun as it sinks in to the sea. Stunning.

Credit Card Crush

2008-11-17T21:22:00.000-08:00

I use credit cards like the rest of the world but expressly for convenience. I'm not all that loyal either meaning if a bank makes me mad for one reason or another I defect. But as a rule I only use one card at a time, though I have plenty of open credit; too much in fact to be offered any more. I always pay any balance in full each month since I refuse to pay one red cent in finance charges. And, like everyone, I receive innumerable credit card offerings in the mail - each and every month for years upon years. I've always thought that this predatory practice was too tempting for people who really don't understand how credit works or who don't consider the consequences of excessive debt - aside from how expensive it is to market this way. So fully anticipating some kind of backlash in the credit markets this year I decided to conduct a little experiment. For the last 12 months I've saved all the credit card offers that came to me in the mail. There was a grand total of 123 credit card offers alone, not including HELOC offers. Is it any wonder we're in in the mess we're in? I suspect credit card default is the next shoe to drop. At least a few of these banks are in trouble or have been acquired by others, but this is breakout:
AMEX: 19
Chase: 26
Citibank: 20
US Bank:5
WAMU: 11
B of A: 17
Capital One: 21
One Card: 2
Discover: 2

Partying like it's 1999

2008-11-16T15:20:00.000-08:00

So it's been pointed out that I'm a little too old for this but who cares I had fun. Our weekend started on Thursday night. It was a friend's birthday so we headed out to Lucky Baldwin's Pub in Pasadena. They were hosting a Chimay event and since my friend is a connoisseur of beer it was perfect. Chimay, if you're wondering is brewed by monks in Belgium and tastes exquisite. Evidently production and distribution is limited which makes it something to savor - and save for! It was a gorgeous warm fall evening and we had Baldwin's luck with us as we scored a patio table. BTW, the curry is amazing - "England's new national dish", you know. Props to Nick for organizing a really fun night out on a school night.

After dragging through Friday, I had that yummy beer on my mind. Score! and I wanted to share this discovery with someone who appreciates fine art.The stuff is $6 for a 12 oz bottle and worth every swirl on your tongue. Just as I was pulling in our driveway, so was our next door neighbor. So I invited him over for a tasting. That lead to cocktails and a spontaneous decision to continue the party in Hollywood. His friend who owns the Green Door on Ivar had us on the "list" and comped our entrance cover. Nice, but jumping the line where the whole of Asia was waiting to don the doors of this uber-Hollywood lounge was boss. Frank Stallone's band cranked out some bluesy covers for a while - yawn - but luckily we had a hook up at the bar. Dancing and frolicking followed by a late night nosh at Canter's famous deli (potato pancakes with sour cream and applesauce, oh yeah!) rang in a new morn. Or afternoon as the case may be.

Our dear friend is a HUGE 007 fan and he arranged for a dozen of us to go see the opening of Quantum of Solace. That's not the genre of movie I gravitate to but I'm always up for a party. And I was pleasantly satisfied with the film. Love the new Bond. Afterward we all made food at his place and played games into the wee hours. What a hoot, laughing so hard my abdominals hurt. The most hilarious part of the night though was Jerry's hair-brained idea to conduct an experiment. He said he'd seen it on youtube and wanted to test it. You put four cell phones together with a kernel of popcorn in the middle. Call the phones at the same time using four other phones. The theory is that there is so much radio activity that the kernel will pop like popcorn. Of course it didn't work but the antics that ensued were priceless, including a big drunken discussion about what makes the kernels pop in a microwave bag. Suffice it to say it went down hill from there. We had a big slumber party and woke up to more fun. The host made brunch and mimosas and we sat around solving the world's problems while wildfires tore through the Southland. When we emerged it was snowing ash and smelled like a gigantic camp fire. Such a fun weekend was dampened by the sadness of people's lives going up in smoke. Too bad we didn't have a little booze to dampen the fires.

How presidential

2008-11-15T15:10:00.000-08:00

Last weekend before attending a lame civil war battle re-enactment in Simi Valley (about an hour from our house) we decided to maximize the drive and stopped in to visit the Reagan Presidential Library. This museum is not unlike others in that many artifacts and remembrances of Reagan's whole life and careers are on display. But what's interesting here is that it houses Air Force One, used in service as recently as Bush 43's early presidency and his 5 predecessors. This picture shows us giving the presidential wave as we entered the surprisingly diminutive aircraft. The infamous plane was retired to make way for a more modern and technologically advanced world. We were quite rushed making this last minute pit-stop and didn't get to see every exhibit missing the oval office display and the president's burial site in particular. I guess we'll have to make another trip to take it all in. The highlight and most moving moment for me, however, is the 4 ton chunk of the Berlin wall. Its stature and symbolism take me right back to that momentous day of freedom and redemption when Reagan demanded that Gorbi tear down the wall. This place, for the scenic vistas alone, gets a couple of thumbs up from me.

Girly man has some balls

2008-11-06T12:30:00.000-08:00

This is old news by now (since it's taken me so long to post this).

The governator wants to "temporarily" raise state sales tax 1.5% to close the budget deficit. Who's he kidding? If they get their grubby hands on our money we'll never get it back. Listen to what this naive soul had to say about it, quoted in the Silicon Valley's Mercury News, "What's attractive to me is that it's temporary. To me, that's fairly logical. That solves problems now and you know it's going to go away. You have a built-in tax break going in." Ha!
The economy is strained, people are losing their homes, their jobs, simply trying to hold on and our government wants to raise taxes; taxes on consumer spending, which is sadly the driver of our economy. If rising taxes in addition to rising prices make unnecessary purchases prohibitive people will refrain from spending causing further contraction - less spending, more job loss and the cycle repeats. Don't get me wrong, we NEED to stop the wild spending that has contributed to our current messy situation. I just wonder if taxing everything is the best approach.

Ciao...

2008-11-05T17:53:00.000-08:00

....Bush and Cli't', oh and especially Dick. Sorry for the lame innuendo....I'm feeling inspired by Helen Philpot. :]

The election is over! Hallelujah. It's the end of an era - the god-awful Bush era and with any luck the Clintons too. Time for some fresh yummy meat and fresh ideas to restore our standing in the world and history. As you might guess I did not vote for the office of president. (Calm down people it doesn't matter in California anyway.) My non-vote was a vote more against government than a vote against the beloved Obama. I am extraordinarily hopeful that he has the leadership qualities to get us on the right track and not unhappy in the least that he was elected. I probably wouldn't have been unhappy with McCain either. Honestly, who could do worse than what we've endured during the incompetent Bush years? Except maybe the wackadoo Nancy Pelosi so I'll have to trust that Obama will keep her on a short leash.
Speaking of crackpots, we have a bunch here in California. Let me break it down for you. But first a little history. The state is nearly bankrupt. We have a $15.2 BILLION budget deficit. This on the heels of historic home prices, hence historic property tax revenues of which the state gets a portion. So we had 12 statewide propositions on the ballot, 4 of which authorized the sale of bonds totaling almost $17B in new spending - plus interest. Three of the four passed which means our debt burden is further deepened. This from the same liberal crowd who scathingly condemn the erosion of a national surplus. Some of the props were a good idea but there are consequences to bad governance. I guess that's not how Californians think. Keep digging a hole, maybe the congress will bail you out!
What gets me the craziest is that a proposition to prohibit the confinement of pregnant farm animals passed while one that would ensure parental notification for under-age abortions was defeated. Huh? I adore animals and I don't give a crap if someone wants to get an abortion but let's examine the logic. Animals being raised to get hauled off to slaughter for our consumption shouldn't live in a cage and young girls, who can't get a mole removed without their parents consent, can have major surgery unbeknownst to their caregivers. The same bizarre crowd chose to deny gays the constitutional right to marriage. I guess animals are more important than homos and children.
Maybe you think I'm the crackpot. I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Live, Love, Laugh - Peace out

2008-11-03T09:12:00.000-08:00

1 gorgeous fall day in LA - $0
2 cold beers - $12
3 slices of bagel crust pizza -$13
a dozen rhythmic bongo drummers inciting gatherers to gyrate on the cool sand at sunset on Venice beach - priceless

When I'm not hating the icky people and unbearable traffic in LA, I love it. I know it's a big condradiction but such is LA. I love the spirited and soulful nature of people. I love that it is acceptable to be your free and true self, no matter how offensive it is and nobody cares. And if they do they can fuck off. I love that no matter what ails us or the tribulations we face we can come together as a people - harmoniously, peacefully - and celebrate life, art, music, love. Do I sound like a hippy or what? And no, the bong didn't come around to me! Who cares, man. Live and let live.