Life of Wry

My Uncle Bud’s sister married Richard Phillips. We called him Uncle Dick, and considered his and Aunt Phyllis’ six kids our crazy, fun-loving cousins, but the whole wonderful clan was not really official, in the absolute relative sense, because my Uncle Bud is technically an outlaw…. my uncle by virtue of his having married my dad’s sister, my Aunt Ellie.

Still…inlaws or outlaws, we’re all part of a great big extended family, technically, bloodly official, or not.

Loved all the Phillipses (including and especially the “Bobsie Twins”–Grandma Hilda Johnson (Uncle Bud’s and Aunt Phyllis’ mom) and Aunt Lil, more or less identical twins, as dear and sweet as they come). They were a huge, ragingly musical bunch. Gatherings at their places in San Diego, Pasadena and the Tehachapi mountains were loud, rambunctious affairs. Aunt Phyllis was a warm, nurturing, gracious hostess who prepared expansive spreads of food that were eye popping–things we never had in our house like jello salads with marshmallows and towers of baked goods. Uncle Dick and Aunt Phyllis have passed away, but their six kids–Susan, David, Jeff, Patty, John, and Jamie (maybe in that order!)–are still around and full of stories and life and humanity.

It’s a few days past Veteran’s Day, but I thought these two photos that John posted on Facebook a couple days ago were worth sharing.

Dick was a commander in the Navy. He was born in Southern California, graduated from USC, and spent a good part of his career in the Navy. At one point, he served in a public relations capacity for the Pacific fleet. After the Navy, he worked at JPL as the public relations director. My guess is he was good with people… which is consistent with the whole Philips clan!

Here are the pictures John posted:

John’s beloved dad is the tall one “with the hairy legs,” (John’s words). Third from left, big smile. In his post, John said it was just after the war.. WWII, I’d guess.

Handsome as ever.

Here is a photo with General William Westmoreland:

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It’s a few days after Veterans’ Day, and a the day after the horrific terrorist attacks in Paris. It leaves me with questions about our world, the relations between nations, religions, people. The need for power and dominance. Or the drive, insistence just to be right. What happens in the souls and consciences of people that drives them to passionate and compassionate action but in some cases to barbaric acts of inhumanity. And what is the need for and the role of global peacekeeping forces, national militaries and even local law enforcement that keep people in line or on one side or another of a border–physical or ideological or spiritual.

No answers (well, a few), but just heartache.

Literally my view every waking day of my life on Via La Selva.

Only the window was different. Back then, it was a steel casement window. Remember those? It still has a crank opener today, like in the olden days, but now the crank has a handsome wood handle to match the upgraded wood-framed windows.

But the eucs? Still the same.

And the view? Exactly the same.

Because it’s all I got….  shots from my commute.

Or the What I Did With My Phone When I Wasn’t Playing Spider to Pass the Time series.

So, first, there’s this.  Now, I’m a great enjoyer of regular massages (therapeutic, of course), but I just can’t quite get over this hump. Airport terminal massages… no can do. She, however, has no such hump to overcome and seems to be enjoying the hell out of it.

I think there’s a life lesson in there somewhere…..

Moving on.

Being mid November, my late afternoon/early evening departure is now a sunset flight. Here’s a shot of twilight on the tarmac:

And because I can’t help myself–loving patterns as I do–a shot of velvety brown fields in transition:

(It was getting dark, so this is what happens when you add light that just isn’t there.)

Here is what the light really looked like, looking east toward the Sierra:

Then, it was just very dark outside, so in the glow of cabin lights, with my free glass of chardonnay, I played Spider for an hour (and won my game, finally). Enjoyed myself immensely up there in the fast-moving, thankfully-insulated tube, flying high above the state I love so much.

Entered the LA basin, and it got all glittery and exciting. Always wonder what each and every person’s experience is down there in his/her own little universe. So weird being god.

(Really need a better camera.)

I took lots of photos from the taxi, just because that’s fun, but nothing really came out. I did finally get a shot of the LAX sign, though it was blurry, too, so I tricked it up some:

I know.. yawn.

I asked my mom if she’d make that beef stew thing again, and ohmylord she did and holy cow (literally), it was explosively rich in its flavors, just like last time. Beef, onions and potatoes, coated in crusty garlic and herbs, in a deep wine broth..  frightfully good. Those are separately sauteed mushrooms on the side.

Beef stew for breakfast anyone?

These errata are getting to be regular things. Maybe I should stop being so presumptuous in my blogging, huh?.

Yesterday I wrote about my theory that acupuncture needles are spring loaded, and, once tapped, launch forcefully into their target area. They are not. Brian the acupuncturist, usually a pretty professional and restrained guy, nearly laughed out loud when I checked my theory with him. He said they are simply long skinny needles and inserting them properly is an art which takes years and years of training. He went on to show me a variety of needle lengths and explained how long ones are used in particularly thick, fleshy places and short ones the opposite.

The needle I found sticking out of my leg yesterday while walking downtown was a very long one.  He’s been using the long ones on me because he’s sticking them into my butt (well, hip… but for acupuncture purposes, the hip is buried within the butt).

Anyway…  so erase that spring loaded acupuncture needle thing from your knowledge database (along with any visuals of this process, if you don’t mind).

~ ~ ~ ~

Pic of the day… fall in the downtown. This may just be my favorite time of year for sheer gorgeousness.

Don’t think for a moment that that guy is appropriately dressed in his tank top and flips. He is not. It has been in the 30s at night for the last few days, and at the time of this picture, it was still probably in the high 40s-low 50s. I’d say the only thing keeping him warm is the hots he’s got for his gf.

For the record, I was not taking a picture of these two folks. I was just looking down the street and appreciating the splendor of the colorful trees–still weeks from peak color. I was kind of surprised when I uploaded all two of my photos today. The other one had better fall color, but also had an unsightly awning that dominated the picture…so had to go with this one.

It’s the small things, Part 1:

I love the loveliness of a small touch, one that adds sweetness to the ordinary.. my cafe au lait this morning with a nice foamy flower:

And I so enjoyed that sweet small thing in the glow of sun streaming through the windows of Mishka’s… I’m such a sucker for streaks of streaming sun.

It’s the small things, Part 2:

This was actually yesterday, but the photo is also shot at Mishka’s, so I’m including it.

As I’d gotten up from the acupuncturist’s table yesterday morning, I’d sensed that perhaps not all the needles had come out… but when I couldn’t find one sticking out of my leg anywhere, I concluded it was my imagination….until I got out of my car downtown and felt something sharp poking my other leg. Unusually, a needle had, in fact, been left in. It dislodged itself as I’d gotten dressed and evidently got caught up in my clothes. Somehow, I guess, it shifted around as I drove until it found a nice place to re-lodge itself, which I didn’t feel until I stood up again and began to walk.

Sharp little bugger, too.

I found a bench, worked it out of my leg and down to an opening in my pants, where I could reach in and grab it. At which point I got my first-ever view of one of those acupuncture needles; I’d never had the nerve to look while being stuck. They are quite long! (About 3 1/2 inches..)

I think they may be spring loaded so that, when tapped, they launch themselves from their little plastic casings (I have seen those) with force sufficient to lodge deep beneath the surface of your skin. Just a guess… but seems plausible, ya?

The small and delicate things!

I don’t have too much to say about this yet, because I have more research to do on the matter, but felt anxious about correcting comments I recently made on the subject of the thick green stuff that covers the surface of Putah Creek down in the UC Davis arboretum.

Here’s a picture:

Apparently, that is not algae…it’s duckweed. Not only that, duckweed may not even be a bad thing. In fact, it may very possibly be good. It may not cause fish to suffocate, it may not be a result of drought, it may not be the result of poorly aerated waterways. All claims I brazenly made over the weekend, not really having any idea, apparently, what I was talking about.

Sometimes, apparently, this does not stop me.

It’s true that in all my years of taking regular walks around the 3 1/2 mile loop, I’ve never seen the green stuff quite like this, and it’s true we are in a four–and perhaps counting–year drought, and there would certainly seem to be a relationship… but maybe not.

Anyway… I’m embarrassed to have been so histrionic… so I’m coming clean and saying I may have been wrong and I need to do a little more research.

A teeny bit of research on the duckweed vs. algae issue turned up this:

Duckweed: Not just for ducks by Suzanne Kollar, PFRA, Beausejour and Darrell R. Corkal, PFRA, Saskatoon

A much maligned plant, duckweed has often been viewed as a nuisance, commonly mistaken for algae and associated with water quality problems in ponds, dugouts and stagnant water bodies.

But the facts are that duckweed will remove plant nutrients from water, block sunlight and out compete algae. It can even reduce evaporation loss [..]

While duckweed is an indicator that excessive nutrients exist in the water, it doesn’t contribute to water quality problems. In fact, this macrophyte plant improves water quality by removing phosphorus and nitrogen from the water and by naturally filtering unwanted matter in the water.

With optimum conditions–food, sunlight and shelter from wind–duckweed can grow exponentially by consuming phosphorus and out compete algae (phytoplankton), which is lower on the food chain.

Duckweed growth, instead of algae, is very desirable since algae pose more problems for water use [..] almost all algae will cause taste and odor problems in water.

Duckweed is an oval shaped plant that floats on the surface of water. It is the smallest flowering plant. When mature, the smallest species is two mm or less in diameter, and the largest species is about 20 mm in diameter, roughly the size of a fingernail or thumbnail. Duckweed looks like tiny floating leaves on the water surface. [..]

Often spread by aquatic birds and floods, duckweed grows in clusters and can grow rapidly with adequate food (phosphorus and nitrogen), sunlight and shelter from wind. Commonplace worldwide and quite hardy, it will even tolerate brackish water. [..]

Often considered unsightly, duckweed blooms can cover an entire water body with a “green blanket” or “mat” containing millions of the small plants. It won’t thrive on sites exposed to wind or where flowing water occurs.

When blanket of duckweed covers a [water way] it limits growing conditions for algae.

This means the plant food for algae will have been reduced as the duckweed blanket blocks sunlight to the water column, limiting photosynthesis and preventing algae growth.

If only one could be both an early riser and a night owl.

Was up early to take Betsy to the airport. On the way home, I stopped to walk around the corner of F Street and Road 29, just because it was so pretty. It’s amazing, truly, how much more vivid the view becomes when you actually get out of your heated car and walk around in the chilly air.

The thing I noticed the most, oddly, was how hard the ground was. It was a lot more personal when I got out of my car. Less distant. It was very quiet out there, very still, very cool. And the ground felt hard.

Anyway, I took a few shots… this one to the south…

And another angle, also southerly, no filter…

One to the east…

And another sort of south-easterly, clarified…

They’re a little messy b/c of the lighting, but I like them.

I really liked being out there. I do love the early morning.

Fall has finally come to Davis.. marked mostly by cooler temps. At long last. Trees have finally started to turn with an attitude of commitment.. maybe by January the leaves will all be down in time for a mid-January early spring. But my cynicism is getting ahead of me!

All of this is to say, we bundled up for Farmer’s Market and drank hot coffee to stay warm. Because it was all the way down into the 60s. Kind of a change. (It might have been in the high 50s when we headed out!)

The afternoon was a nice bike ride through campus — a first for me… we got all twisted around in the Vet Med school and all the new bike paths around the new stadium. But a nice day for a ride.

Wandered through the oak grove on the west end of the arboretum…

And looked at the ceramic art.

First, there is probably the most artistically adorned bathroom in all of Davis (though come to think of it, Central Park’s bathroom’s got a huge Heidi Bekebrede…hmm):

And then this Donna Billick piece (with help from my favorite ceramicist Mark Rivera):

I hadn’t realized before that it depicts the drought-tolerant plants best for our region, as grown in the adjacent demonstration garden… which is both beautiful and useful in designing your own garden…

Here’s a close up of one of the panels:

And on this end of the arboretum, the creek still looks horrible… so thick in slime you could probably walk on it..

And all that was lovely.. but the highlight of the day had to be seeing the show at Harlow’s (restaurant and nightclub on J Street in downtown Sac).

Went with Bill and Sabrina. Ate dinner on our laps–it’s what they do there. Fun place, great service. Intimate.

So, Jeff Daniels, the actor, who Jim and I have just seen in two current movies–Steve Jobs and The Martian–and who starred as Flap in Terms of Endearment, among dozens of other great roles, is touring with his son Ben and his band and playing small clubs all over the country. Sort of country rock-ish stuff. All their own material. I believe most, if not all, written by Jeff Daniels. Great lyricist.

Here’s the whole 6-member band:

The woman is Ben’s new wife, Jeff in front, Ben second from right, and a few more talented guys (okay, I’m calling them by name like I know them, feels weird, but there it is). Jeff is a skilled showman (sure his showmanship grows out of the confidence of a successful, decades-long acting career, genuine musical talent, and being the dad up there). The entire show was well-choreographed and polished in its delivery. But it was also a warm and genuinely fun set–Jeff being extremely gracious and clearly loving being up there among the 30-somethings–one being his son, one being his new daughter-in-law (and apparently his wife and another son were backstage…”Partridge Family on Acid,” he said). There was a short middle set that was just the Ben Daniels band, and it had a completely different vibe. It was interesting, but thankfully short.

Many high moments in the show. One was when he invited a woman in the audience up to the stage for a song. Turns out she’s the “sorority girl” in a clip from the Newsroom (tv show) that is virally circulating around the internet. The scene is a Q&A session following a panel discussion taking place on a university campus. The panelists, including Jeff Daniels’ character, are discussing politics and the media. Her question is “what makes the US the greatest country on earth.” Daniels’ character says it’s not–the audience is shocked–and he explains why. I’ve seen the clip numerous times, so it was fun to see the woman there. From the reception, the entire audience was also familiar with the show and that particular clip. I’m guessing the women just happens to live in the area… It was pretty fun.

But the best moment in the show may have been the encore song, just father and son, singing a song Jeff wrote about Ben when he was three. Jim’s comment, “That was not fair,” because it evoked heavy (loving) father/son stuff, very emotional and poignant. Left everyone in the audience in an emotionally tender place but was a super nice note to end on.

Great, great concert.

(And please note, second concert in three days.)

I don’t know who started it, but someone way back when, possibly nearly 60 years ago, nicknamed Betsy, “Betsy Boo,” and ever since, that’s who she’s been… to at least a sizable handful of us. We don’t always call her that, but if someone says Boo did this or said that, we know it’s Betsy. One of the funniest things I ever heard Peter say when I said we’d be seeing one of my oldest friends at some gathering was, “Oh, Betsy Boo’s going to be there?”.. not realizing that was a nickname (he probably didn’t even know for nicknames). It was so innocently inquisitive, such a genuine response to my casual statement, like, Oh, Harold’s going to be there? Great!

Just struck me as so sweet.

Betsy and I met when she was days old. I was three months her senior, but we were fast friends, spending a lot of playpen time together (playpens… can you imagine those now?).  Living at the beach, we may have romped in the sand and surf together too, who knows.

Our two families, along with a third–the Hesses–all lived on 39th Street in Manhattan Beach and were great friends. My dad and Mr. Hesse were hired on in the nascent days of TRW (in fact, Mr. Hesse hired my dad), and ended up working together their entire careers. After hours, and with the wives, much 50s-style socializing ensued on 39th (it was the cocktail and cigarette era, after all). Even as we all moved out of bungalows and into bigger homes elsewhere (Palos Verdes, Rolling Hills and Long Beach), we continued to share holidays, milestones, and generally remained close. Between us, eventually, there were 13 kids. Our Christmas Eve tradition was particularly memorable… well… it all was.

Only two of the older generation remain… my mom and Betsy’s mom. But the kids are keeping up the bonds. Yay us.

Anyway, for the first time ever, after literally decades of saying she oughta, Betsy came to Davis for a visit.

Today, we did some Davis-y things…. Compassion Corner, public art, lunch at Bernardo’s, downtown strolling, the Artery, Natsoulas Gallery, the arboretum, campus, the eggheads, a bike ride, the Old North, the Davis Food Coop, drinks at Vini, dinner (Season’s), a movie at the Varsity (Suffragette)… and lots of talking.

Some pics:

In the redwoods…

(Blurry and distorted, but at near-60, we like it that way.)

At the Natsoulas gallery, in a stairwell–possibly between the 3rd and 4th floors–an unlabeled sculpture sits crammed among unlabeled paintings in the shadows of late afternoon sun…

In the main gallery… I loved these perspective paintings… so appealing in every way…

This also really appealed to me… also hung unceremoniously in a cluttered hallway…

At the Artery’s gallery…

The above is a wood carving… which, when viewed up close, is unimaginably detailed, painstakingly chiseled, carefully painted…

Oh, how I loved her work.

And oh what the drought hath wrought. I think some of this is seasonal, some the result of generally poor flow and aeration, and some from lack of sufficient rainfall. I think. In any case, it’s gross. I think fish and other creek life is suffocating; we saw a guy collecting dead fish in a net.  I don’t know where the skimming boats are, and I don’t know how concerned the scientists are, but I was freaked out by it.

Still, algae aside, it was a great Day#1.

Ended an already lovely day with an incredibly enjoyable evening at the Odd Fellows Hall. I wish I’d clued into this sooner, but hope I won’t miss many more of these…. free concerts on the first Thursdays of the month put on by the IOOF (International Order of…).  Indeed, that’s what mailing lists are for… so added myself and will look forward to the next one.

Tonight’s featured two groups of overlapping musicians.  The first was The Cups–Tracy Walton, Chris Webster (of Mumbo Gumbo fame), Kathy Elzey and guitarist Tom Phillips. Mostly 30s-40s music, harmonies so lyrical, so incredibly lush and smooth. Maybe favorite song, probably because I knew it well but hadn’t heard it in decades, “Yellow Bird.” Here’s the rendition I remember (Kingston Trio): 

But even better were Webster, Walton and Edwards (Bill).

The harmonies were also there..lots of songs from their CD, which I’ve nearly worn a hole through, and love, and lots of other songs from the Mumbo Gumbo songbook. Fantastic. AND, Chris sang a version of To Sir With Love (Lulu, remember?). I felt totally silly being brought to tears, but there it is.

Fortunately they moved into some rockin’ and bluesy and folksy numbers, so I could just return to my good, general toe tappin’.

So happy.