Stranded on D St. Epic AAA tow fail

AAA keeps changing the ETA time. I am sitting in the hot sun for an hour, broiling, watching the turkeys cross the road. Hood is up and not one single person has stopped or even slowed down, and I e been sitting here over an hour. Some people have come close to sideswiping me in their hurry to get out of town. Lovely city folk. Finally a guy from Novato A&C towing (contract AAA) hauled me to Nicasio. We stopped at the cheese factory for a pit stop. Loo and food. He’s diabetic, and his blood sugar is off. Mine too, I haven’t eaten all day. Apparently nobody wanted to come out to Petaluma, right on the edge of town. No tips. I mean, really. The turkeys were more sympathetic. I’m stuck in Nicasio, at my cousin’s and need to get it to my mechanic in Oakland today....getting it towed with some fancy AAA finagling. Then we’ll see. Hopefully it’s the distributor cap, or coil.

Bliss Buys remembers (oral history) Sonoma County Stump

Simone Wilson, Bliss Buys & Joe Leary, 1980. Maureen Hurley photo

I ran into former Sonoma County Stump founder and editor, Bliss Buys after a poetry reading, the Petaluma Poetry Walk. Bliss, Simone Wilson and I had lunch at Dempsey’s and reminisced. I am sorry to say that I did not take any notes, it was a whirlwind visit. A blast from the past. Simone and I booth cut our journalism teeth at the Sonoma County Stump. There was so much more catching up to do, as I hadn’t seen Bliss since the Stump folded in 1981, when I was new to writing. I worked at the Stump from 1979-1980 until it folded.

I had a camera, I happened to live near the Sonoma County Stump office, I wandered in once day to see what I could see, and next thing I knew, I was given the centerfold to create a double-truck spread on Sonoma County poetry, and a deadline—and the rest is history. —The Paper and the Sonoma County Stump

Bliss and I met up in Petaluma the next day as she needed to meet up with her clients, to renew ads for a antiques periodical she had founded in 1989. It was so enthralling to trail after her as she visited a plethora of Petaluma antiques stores. The antiques guide went from a small Sonoma County monthly throwaway tabloid newspaper to an annual West Coast guidebook. Bliss was touching base with her clients.

Bliss wrote this synopsis in a Facebook group, Russian River History and Memories, “Our first office was on River Blvd. in Monte Rio where we got flooded. The last one was over the Mexican restaurant in downtown Forestville. At one point, we were located behind the Rio Theater in Monte Rio. We had an office on Hwy. 116 north of Sebastopol (where the late, beloved Joe Leary came onboard), one in Guernewood Park (where we got flooded again). There were two periods when we couldn't afford an office and worked out of my home, once in Pocket Canyon (where my partner was Patrick Lanzing), once on Trenton Rd. in Forestville. I wish I remember the last name of the designer of the masthead...John something. The theme was borrowed from a painting by Joan Miró depicting a tree stump that has one of its roots firmly gripping the axe that did the job. Probably the most complete collection of The Stump that exists, went to the museum at Sonoma State University. It may even include some of the very first editions, when Jack "The Carpenter" Husband started it and I was the typist. Deadlines were typically all-nighters. We typed the text, cut out the columns and pasted them with melted wax on big galley sheets. Those copies might still be there, in some dusty corner of the SSU storeroom. We had a good run—more than ten years. 

What follows is an ad hoc oral folk history interview with Bliss at her son Jay’s house on Pepper Road, Petaluma, reminiscing about the past. As is with most verbatim conversations, it’s sometimes disjointed, but one of the things I’ve learned about collecting oral folklore from my UC Berkeley professor, Dr. Alan Dundes, is to not try and fix syntax, grammar, or timeline. Nor interrupt.... Akkk!

Lost sock

. 

A sock caught in the act, inside out. Nearly got away with it, incognito.

I, who was feeling lost, said, oh look, a lost sock. Wait, that’s MY sock!

Divesting myself of things

Someone asks me, do you know where you’re going? No. I’m into the wind, as they say. I will be housesitting in Sebastopol for a month. I’ve still got a lot of stuff to process. It takes a lot of time to properly decommission a small cabinet, or bookshelf, let alone, a room in a house where I’ve lived for more than 20 years. Baby steps. I take it in small chunks, and then fill my car, and then farm it out. When I get it all processed, and sorted out, then I’ll find a storage space and reunite it. Kitchen, hall closet, and living room are nearly done. So many memories. so much anguish and pain. Baby steps. I never want to see Neil again. Remember to breathe, let it pass through. Do not let it stick to you, I tell myself.

I have a Berkeley couch where I can stay,  midweek when I’m teaching..., I’d love to find another...

Children’s librarian was over the moon to get my signed book, Ring A Ring O’ Roses by legendary storyteller, Rockridge librarian, Gay Ducey, I trained with her a long time ago.

Petaluma Poetry Walk (photos)

Petaluma Poetry Walk. See full Google album here, or here.

Fire on Mt. Barnabe

My biggest nightmare, a wildfire broke out near my family home and I can only watch from afar. Trying to reach my cousins was impossible. No cell service. The cell tower is on the top of Mt. Barnabe is out because of the fire. Surrounded with flames. The small side valley, Arroyo/Barranca Road, where I grew up, could easily become a firetrap. Evacuation began right away as the potential for this wildfire to go rogue was huge. We heard from one cousin, James, who wasn’t home, but not the other, however, we're fairly certain he got out with the dog. Luckily the fire did not turn up Barranca Road, it headed south instead. TG.

It looks like the wildfire came up the shoulder closest to Devil's Gulch, where Sam Taylor's favorite white and only mule, Barnabe, was buried. Then the fire burned all the way up to the lookout, then headed down the mountain on our side of the ridge to the right, which means the Nunes Ranch homesteads was threatened, plus a few newer homes in the trees, as it headed back towards Lagunitas again. Had it burned straight across, along the ridge that separates us from Nicasio, we wouldn't have stood a chance. The wildfire spread so quickly, that within minutes, the entire park side of the mountain was engulfed in flames— one of the evacuees, Dave Cort, said the flames were 100 feet high! Within two hours CalFire said it was 80% contained. Phew.

Virginia Rae interview: Sausalito's Gate 5 Theater & beyond

Vee Rae (Virginia Rae Kane) was an actor friend of my mother's at the Gate Playhouse Theatre in Sausalito during the late 1950s- early 1960s. I was young, still in the single digits, so my memory was sparse. But my first blog pieces in 2007 were on Gate 5, Tiki Junction, and also Juanita, which led to this post.

The photo that started it all. My mother, Kellé Reilly (later it was Kellé Green—

her stage name as there was already an actress, Maureen Hurley in SAG), 

Richard Knablin, Skip Rognlien and Vee Rae, Christmas, 1960. 

(Photo by Chris Gracida, courtesy of Richard Knablin.)

Somehow my mom's friend, Richard "Dik" Knablin stumbled across my blog post in 2009, and contacted me which led me to an email from Vee Rae. He sent me a photo of my mother with him and Vee Rae, and the memories came flooding back. Wow!

So this interview is a decade, or more like a lifetime in the making. Also, my drama teacher from College of Marin, James Dunn just passed away, he was also part of the lively and vibrant theatre scene in Marin. Come what come may, time and the hour run through the roughest day.

I was able to glean information on Skip Rognlien and Les Abbot, thanks to Google. I found a few reviews that mention Vee and other actors in the ensemble (Bill Edwards, Jim Holiday, Vickie Frazer, Sharleen Lambert, Diane Santich, John Rose, Jack Brennan and J. W. Cheetham, see newspaper archives at bottom), but nothing in print on my mother who worked so tirelessly behind the scenes with costuming, and she was also in most of the plays as well. I only have a few stills of her.

Letter to Yehiel on leaving Neil

To Yehiel Ben Benyamin        9/5/18, 11:33 PM

Dear Yehiel,

We had a blow up last month because I tried to pay a portion of the rent directly (which I've done in the past), and he lost it and told me I had to move out. No forewarning. And so I did.