Sunshine Crimes

01.14.09

The latest local green crime? Stealing solar panels. In Sonoma, Napa, Marin and beyond, thieves with enough electronics knowledge to disassemble a solar panel without ruining it are trespassing by night and even by day to rip off panels worth tens of thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Solar panels have been stolen from wineries, elementary schools, homes—even from a church and an organic farm. Is nothing sacred? Welcome to the solar portion of our new green economy.

A key selling point of solar power has always been that no one can own the sun. An upbeat consequence of sunlight being ubiquitous is that no one has to kill or be killed for any market control disguised as patriotic duty. Three cheers for Brother Sun. I see a Nobel Prize looming.

Our planet’s star ignores political boundaries and economic status, dishing out radiance and free vitamin D to all. Yet all that energetic brightness needs to be concentrated in order to create electricity, and for that you need photovoltaic cell technology. No one can own the sun, but some can own solar panels. And others can steal them. The fact that anyone would steal solar panels is evidence enough that we have established a green economy around here.

Solar power has been harnessed for centuries, and sophisticated solar technology has existed for over a hundred years. The first solar steam engine was built in 1861. But not until the 1970s did solar technology get a federally assisted nudge toward mainstream. During the feigned “oil crises,” while we were hostages of an oil embargo, consumers waiting in long lines at gas stations became suddenly interested in alternative energy sources.

During that time, regional solar buff Allan Book studied the technology and eventually built his own off-the-grid home which still runs on the solar system he installed in 1986. “In those days, each panel was 53 watts and cost $375,” Book explains. “They don’t make those anymore.”

Back then, getting a solar panel stolen was about as likely as getting an accordion ripped off—you know the old joke: Lock your truck with an accordion (solar panel) in the cab, and when you come back, the windows will be broken and there will be three more accordions (solar panels) on the front seat.

Not so in this economy. Witness the forbidding wire wrapped around the municipal solar panels recently installed in downtown Sebastopol. The next green industry will be a solar panel night watch service, followed by new, theft–proof solar systems.

Among the emerging green collar jobs are so-called maid services for solar systems. “If you can wash a window,” one recruiting service claims, “you can clean a solar panel.” Entrepreneurs are creating green industries where none existed before.

And let’s not forget the contributions of honest citizens, doing what they’ve always done to turn in the bad guys. In Napa, a resident who had read in the newspaper about the recent thefts of solar panels picked up the phone one evening and reported the license plate and travel direction of a suspicious-looking, tarp-covered truck. Police caught up with the truck, pulled it over and found it loaded with stolen panels. The thwarted thieves were arrested and the panels returned.

 In other parts of the country, citizens may be expecting a new green economy to launch with drum rolls next Wednesday in Washington, D.C. Sure, we can all look forward to intelligent policy that will shift the country away from the self-destructive course we’ve been on. But here in the North Bay (where, incidentally, the number of inauguration parties per capita suggests enthusiasm on the far side of wild), no one is looking to the new administration to kick-start a green economy for us—we’re already living it.

Green is a community-based economic model, and solar is only a portion of ours. We can look at the other portions later. Right now, I’ve got to run. I need to start picking out inauguration-party outfits for next week. One for each party.

 Award-winning journalist Juliane Poirier Locke is a sustainability writer and the author of ‘Vineyards in the Watershed: Sustainable Winegrowing in Napa County.’ Poirier Locke has been reporting on socio-eco issues in the North Bay for over a decade and joins us this week as our new Green Zone columnist.


Exploding Again

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01.14.09

It was a hot July day in 2005, in Sacramento, of all places. Emily Whitehurst, the dynamic vocalist for globetrotting pop-punk band Tsunami Bomb, had a strange suspicion that the show she was about to play might be her band’s last. The past few weeks on yet another Warped Tour had been rough, business relations with their management and label had looked grim, and maybe, Whitehurst thought, it was time.

“I felt like we were in a spot where we could have kept going and gotten a lot bigger,” Whitehurst explains on a recent evening, grabbing some warmth from a space heater in a side room of her screen-printing shop in Petaluma. “But we were also emotionally, like, ‘This has been going on for a really long time.’ We had been playing in the band for seven years. Sometimes, playing those seven-year-old songs can get really old.”

The show in Sacramento did turn out to be Tsunami Bomb’s quick, quiet fizzle, offering the thousands of fans of the band no proper way to say goodbye to a band that for years had been Sonoma County’s most widely loved underground musical export. That chance comes this weekend, when Tsunami Bomb play one—and only one, Whitehurst stresses—reunion show at the Phoenix Theater in Petaluma.

“It’s interesting, because some people are seeing it as a ‘closure,'” she says, obviously uninterested in any kind of ceremonial attachment to the event. “I’m kind of like, wow, I feel more like I’m opening a box that’s been closed for a long time. I didn’t ever feel like I ever needed the closure.”

But what Tsunami Bomb did need to do was help out a close friend. Drummer Liz Beidelman of Luckie Strike, a band that gave Tsunami Bomb loads of support during their formative years, is battling brain cancer. It was pure kismet to plan a benefit show for Beidelman and at the same time invoke one last hurrah. All proceeds will go toward her medical bills, and even with a ticket price set at a mere $12, Tsunami Bomb are going to be able to donate a huge chunk to the cause.

Tsunami Bomb’s fans are, to say the least, dizzy with excitement. I ask Whitehurst who’s driving the farthest distance to come to the show, and she corrects the question. Rather, they’re flying. From Europe. “That I know of,” she says in near-disbelief, “there are at least six or seven people coming from England—and they’re not together!”

Whitehurst and her boyfriend Doug Elkins have been handling all the ticket sales, promotion and logistics for the show, a move that Whitehurst says is refreshing after the band’s tangled relationship with the business side of the music industry. “This is the first time we’ve put on our own show,” she notes, “’cause before, it was all booking agents and managers.” During the band’s lifetime, even hometown shows at the Phoenix Theater were sometimes made complicated by booking agents’ demands; this weekend’s show is an appropriate way for the band to take back control from William Morris and Ticketmaster.

The band will rehearse in an old warehouse on the shores of the Petaluma River for a week straight before the show, practicing those same songs that they got tired of playing over and over, songs that inspired cover versions (Effinboiche, from the Philippines, wins with their version of “Lemonade”), tattoos (28 of them are collected on the band’s MySpace page) and countless other bands (“Girls come up and say, ‘I’m so excited, because I started a band, and you’re my main influence, and I feel like I can do it too because I watched you,'” Whitehurst says).

To Whitehurst, looking back through Tsunami Bomb’s songs is like looking at photos in an old yearbook, pondering a person that she’s not anymore. She talks about opening the show with her current band, the Action Design, and then getting into the “character” of her iconic stage name, Agent M, for Tsunami Bomb; she’ll be reverting back into what she calls a persona, wardrobe and all. “My mom sent me this giant tub of all my old ‘show’ shirts,” she laughs, wondering which one she’ll choose to wear.

“And I’m also kind of scared,” Whitehurst says, almost as an afterthought, “because I need to remember all the songs.”

 Tsunami Bomb play with Nothington, the New Trust and the Action Design on Saturday, Jan. 17, at the Phoenix Theater, 201 E. Washington St., Petaluma. 8pm. $12. 707.762.3565.


Fighting Back

01.14.09

In his biography of John Sturges, film critic Glen Lovell quotes the director’s idea that only those who saw service in World War II could make good movies about it. This problem worsens the further we get away from that war. Edward Zwick’s true-life war movie Defiance wearily insists on the humanistic qualities of a group of partisans fighting for their lives, dividing up the forceful and gentle qualities of such warriors evenly between a pair of Jewish brothers. Ultimately, the film suggests that Daniel Craig’s Tuvia Bielski was a real-life Moses leading his people to safety.

Defiance starts in August 1941, with the German drive into Russia. A family of Jewish brothers survive the murder of their parents; chief among them are Tuvia (Craig), the smart one, and Zus (the bull-calf Liev Schreiber), the tough one. In Belarus’ Lipiczanska forest, other refugees join their band. Zus and Tuvia squabble over the approach to fighting off the Germans. As elder brother, Tuvia takes the role of avenger, executing the local officer who bounty-hunted the Bielski family for the Germans.

Sickened by the bloodshed, Tuvia decides never again to lower himself to the level of his enemies. Zus, in his grief, pounds his head against a tree; now daubed with a bloody mark of Cain, he leaves and takes up with a Red Army led band of guerrillas, despite Soviet cruelty and anti-Semitism. The two brothers conduct tension-wracked meetings over the years: “You’re my brother,” Tuvia reminds him. “So you remember,” Zus answers back. Eventually, the two meet in the middle, with the resolve to kill the Nazi—but kill them respectfully.

Why is Zwick, who exudes humanism like a blintz exudes cheese, drawn to war films? How Zwick’s film Glory worked is now clear. There simply haven’t been that many Civil War movies, and the former co-creator of TV’s thirtysomething almost had the war mostly to himself, visually speaking—not to mention a cast of first-rate actors.

The action sequences in Defiance, by contrast, never seem to take off. A raid on a German convoy at night starts with the trip-wiring of a Nazi motorcycle, but the sabotage is interrupted by the arrival of a German transport truck with mounted machine gun and searchlight, thus stalling what should have been a knockout moment.

 

The film’s climax, a partisan band’s attack on a Nazi tank, should have been thrilling, too. But Zwick’s bleeding heart just isn’t in it; he’s more involved in a re-enactment of The Godfather‘s famous intercutting between a baptism and a Mafia night of long knives. In Defiance, the two points are a wedding in Tuvia’s woods, sparkling with airborne snowflakes or pollen or something, complete with hora dancing, crosscut with Zus leading a shootout at a German headquarters (done with avant-garde stuttering frames to make it look like stop-motion animation).

Defiance could have been a film in which the humanity of the hunted was implicit. But as we get further from this titanic war, we keep getting films that consider the strife was all just good for the soul. Defiance deems the political side of the struggle is meaningless. There should be onscreen disclaimers: “No endorsement of the U.S.S.R. is implied in any way!”

The script reminds one of Robert Warshow’s comment about E. B. White’s equally inane propaganda essays during World War II: “History may kill you, it is true, but you have taken the right attitude.”

‘Defiance’ opens at select North Bay theaters on Friday, Jan. 16.


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State Dinners

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01.14.09


After eight long years of political and inspirational famine, the American public has strong reason to feast. The inauguration of soon-to-be president Barack Obama is truly reason to make merry. No celebration would be complete without fresh, delicious food, something tasty to imbibe and wonderful friends to share the moment. Since most of us can’t be partying in the nation’s capital, we’ve asked local chefs to create menus in honor of Mr. Obama and to let us know how he has inspired them.

Erica Holland-Toll, the executive chef of the Lark Creek Inn in Larkspur, chooses updated American classics in preparing an inaugural menu. “Obama has updated American politics and made them relevant for us,” Holland-Toll says. “He’s a huge inspiration to me. He’s a Democrat, young and an elegant speaker; he’s my generation’s Kennedy and someone to look up to.” Holland-Toll sticks to comfort food, planning a three-course meal of Dungeness crab Louis (recipe follows); Rosie organic chicken with cheddar chive dumplings, early spring vegetables and chicken gravy; and a caramelized banana split with banana malt ice cream and rum toffee sauce. She acknowledges that “people need a culinary hug, so to speak, to let them know things will be OK in difficult times.” This dinner will be served at the Lark Creek Inn Jan. 20&–24.

Chef Gordon Drysdale of Mill Valley’s Pizza Antica takes a higher-end approach, recognizing that an inaugural dinner tops a chef’s culinary experience. “I chose a feast based on the best seasonal bounty of the Northern California Bay Area, and I tried to add in things that none of my friends have ever seen, like fresh steelhead caviar,” Drysdale says. “I don’t know anything about Obama, but he seems to me to be just a regular guy, whereas Dubya seemed patrician and elitist. I am thrilled, enthralled; I can’t wait for Obama to take office. I hope he brings in the youth, the new taste-makers.”

Drysdale’s menu begins with three hors d’oeuvres: Tomales Bay oysters with Sparrow Lane vinegar and shallots; little, warm ham and cheese sandwiches with sharp mustard; and warm buckwheat blini with fresh steelhead caviar. First course is Dungeness crab salad with Haas avocado, mandarins and crispy bacon bits, followed by a second course of broiled Santa Barbara spot prawns with tarragon butter and buttered bread crumbs. The entrée is roasted prime rib-eye cap with sour cream mashed potatoes and chives, and the meal ends with Scharffen Berger chocolate pudding with crispy cinnamon bunuelos. As good as it sounds, though, this menu is all imaginary and will not be available at the restaurant.

At K&L Bistro in Sebastopol, chef and co-owner Lucas Martin raves about the new president-elect. “Obama has absolutely inspired me,” he enthuses. “I’ve been unbelievably focused on his speeches. I am totally enthralled by what a commanding presence he has as a speaker; the fact that he can articulate and enunciate the words is an improvement over our last president,” he laughs. “He’s stepping so confidently into the worst situation possible. My kids are living a piece of history. Obama is so organized and has surrounded himself with a top-notch crew,” he continues. “It’s the same in the restaurant business. It’s not about me, it’s about my staff.”

Martin has chosen items for his menu that he feels are accessible to everyone. “We can’t be celebrating high on the hog while everyone else is struggling,” he says. “Like Obama, we’ll have some humble American food, enjoy it, and then get down to work.” K&L’s inaugural menu begins with ahi tuna poke and blue fish pâté. (“The red ahi and the blue bluefish symbolize the bipartisanship cooperation that we’re going to need to get us out of this mess,” Martin notes. “The poke is a nod to Obama’s Hawaiian roots, combined with the very East Coast bluefish.”)

Second course: Nantucket Bay scallop chowder (“Welcome to Washington, D.C.!”). Main: duo of beef, a roasted grass-fed Montana beef tenderloin with braised short ribs, potato purée, and butter-braised organic carrots. (“An elegant Yankee pot roast with respect for Obama’s heart-healthy diet and his concern for organics and sustainable farming.”) Dessert: apple pie with aged Wisconsin cheddar (“As American as it gets!”). A modified version of this menu will be served Jan. 20&–24.

Anne Gingrass-Paik, chef at Brix in Napa, takes a different tack when considering the presidential feast. For Obama’s inaugural menu, she went online and researched what some of his favorite things to eat are. “I don’t know much about him, but he has been inspirational. This is the most I’ve ever followed a campaign,” Gingrass-Paik says. “I initially participated in fundraisers for Hillary until she stepped down and started to support Obama. I liked his idea to include her in his cabinet.”

Brix will mark the occasion with a special prix fixe menu of Mr. Obama favorite dishes: trail mix snacks, spiced broccoli salad with currants and almonds, Gulf shrimp and white-bean chili with creamy grits, and a dessert of Seattle Fran’s sea salt chocolates with fresh-baked cookies. Brix will serve this four course menu for $28 on inauguration night, Tuesday, Jan. 20.  “America,” Gingrass-Paik promises, excitement creeping into her voice,  “is on the cusp of an exciting new era.”

 The Lark Creek Inn, 234 Magnolia Ave., Larkspur. 415.924.7766. Pizza Antica, 800 Redwood Hwy., Mill Valley. 415.383.0600. K&L Bistro, 119 S. Main St., Sebastopol. 707.823.6614. Brix, 7377 St. Helena Hwy., Napa. 707.944.2749.

Other restuarants hosting special inaugural menus include Peter Lowell’s (2385 Healdsburg Ave., Sebastopol; 707.829.1077), the Underwood Bar & Bistro (9113 Graton Road, Graton; 707.823.7023), Barndiva (231 Center St., Healdsburg; 707.431.0100) and Nick’s Cove (23240 Hwy. 1, Marshall; 415.663.1033).

—————BOX TITLE:Erica Toll-Holland’s Crab Louis

Serves 4
8 ounces picked Dungeness crab meat
2 heads red butter lettuce, washed and cut in half
1 c. pickled celery hearts (see below)
2 8-minute eggs (see below), cut in half
Louis dressing (see below)
extra virgin olive oil to taste

Method

Mix the crab meat lightly with the dressing (start with half and add more if needed). Place half of a red butter lettuce on each plate. Divide the crab in 4, and arrange on top of the lettuce. Garnish with pickled celery and half of an 8-minute egg. Drizzle the plate with fruity evoo and a sprinkle of coarse sea salt.

8-Minute eggs

2 large eggs
2 c. ice
2 c. water
Bring eggs to room temperature. Put 2 cups of ice and 2 cups of water into a large bowl. Bring 2 quarts of water to a rolling boil, slowly add eggs. Set timer for 8 minutes, reduce heat so eggs are simmering, remove at 8 minutes and drop into ice bath. Peel and cut in half, the whites will be firm and the yolks will be bright orange and just barely set.

Pickled Celery

1 c. rice wine vinegar
c. water
c. sugar
3 tbsp. salt
1 c. celery hearts, thinly sliced
Place celery hearts in a bowl. Bring other ingredients to a simmer at medium-high heat in a saucepan. As soon as it simmers, pour the hot liquid over the celery hearts. Let cool and strain.

House-Made Chili Sauce

2 pounds red chiles
c. white vinegar
1 tsp. salt
Place ingredients in a blender, wrap top of blender with plastic wrap, place lid on and pulse until a coarse paste develops. (The plastic wrap keeps the chili fumes under control.) Let sit for a minute and remove lid.

 

Louis Dressing

1 c. mayonnaise
red onion, diced
1 lemon, juiced
3 tbsp. capers
salt to taste.
Mix ingredients. Add chili sauce to taste.

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Our Robots, Ourselves

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01.14.09

‘WHAT WE OUGHT NOT, WE DO’: An oil on wood panel painting from 2006 by Eric Joyner.

The Cyclons were created by man. They rebelled. They evolved. Isn’t that always the way with robots? We built a helpmate to avoid the ethical problem of slavery, and then the damn things get smart and throw off their electronic shackles. The Cylons—the female models, anyway—even turned out to be stronger, smarter and definitely better-looking than their human overseers on Battlestar Galactica. The ultimate existential crisis for mankind is that robots will out-evolve us.

On the other hand, in Woody Allen’s future satire Sleeper, the robots work as herky-jerky butlers in tuxes, easily imitated by the hapless Allen with some whiteface, a tin hat and a pour spout stuck in his mouth. In popular culture, we lurch between a desire for a domesticated robot to cook, clean and be companionable (servants for all, without class warfare; pets without poop) and angst about laser-beam-toting “toasters” reducing us to the status of inferiors.

Our love-fear affair with robots—and more particularly with the idea of robots—is explored in an entertaining new show opening Jan. 23 at the Sonoma County Museum called “Robots: Evolution of a Cultural Icon.” The artists represented comment on, appropriate from, exult in and refigure robot images and tropes as a way of coping with that horrifying, exhilarating moment when Dr. Frankenstein turned on the juice and started screaming, “It’s alive! It’s alive! It’s alive!”

Those words, as belted out by Colin Clive in James Whale’s classic film, can be heard in Amy Hicks’ DVD projection ReAdaptations: The Book Series. Hicks, a lecturer at Stanford, takes canonical creation texts—Frankenstein, The Stepford Wives, Asimov’s I, Robot—and covers their pages with pasted-on stills from the film adaptations. With stop-motion animation in the old-fashioned “flip-book” style, she brings the stories to an uneasy half-life somewhere between the authors’ original concept and the filmmakers’ creative distortions. As always, the stories we tell take on lives of their own, not unlike robots.

Several artists make like Dr. Frankenstein.  Clayton Bailey and Nemo Gould tinker together funky, almost cartoonish robots from cast-off parts: metal housings from vacuum cleaners, crimped conduit, hinged scoops. Bailey’s fetching Beautybot has capacious conical breasts, a warm glowing light in her belly and an inverted coffee urn for a head; her companion, Boybot, sports a large analog clock for a chest—he’ll never be late for a date. Bailey also makes glazed porcelain robots, reducing the possibly menacing figure to the status of kitchen tchotchke.

Gould’s looming found-part beings are both works of arts and, after a fashion, actual robots. With a motion sensor, General Debris rotates his shoulders menacingly when visitors cross his field of vision.

Thomas Zummer’s subtly shaded graphite drawings are aesthetic renditions of historical robot experiments. Some of the optimistic projects from the ’50s feature compliant household ‘bots who iron, dust and vacuum—indeed, the main dream Zummer captures is the wish that someone, something else, would take up the burden of housework. Some of these robots even have teeth and take cigarette breaks.

Adults may stay awake worrying about robots, but kids go to sleep dreaming of them. Several artists are smitten by the toy robot, all brightly colored tin and injection-molded plastic. Photographer David Pace poses toy bots in rigorous grids, straight on, as if positing a taxonomy.

Michael Mew, an Oakland artist who is a real find, layers pasted pictures of toy robots with various collage materials and applies a transparent resin coating to pull the elements together. In his Robots Gone Bad series, oversize toys spit flames at their opponents, which include a caped superhero, a jet plane and a giant wing-tip show floating in space. In Pulling the Plug, another robot holds a frayed electrical cord, surrounded by overlapping images of an astrolabe, a globe, Chinese characters and torn pages from a dictionary. Is it pulling the plug on itself or the world?

The toy ‘bots also go at it hammer, tongs and pinchers in Eric Joyner’s oil-on-wood-panel paintings. In What We Ought Not, We Do, a fierce red toy robot delivers a knockout punch to a blue robot, sending it sprawling over the ropes of a boxing ring into a crowd of agitated robot spectators. The picture wittily references George Bellows’ painting Dempsey and Firpo. One can only hope it isn’t a veiled allegory about the red state-blue state divide in electoral politics.

 

North Bay artists Monty Monty and Patrick Amiot are also included, but the last word belongs to Gail Wight. In a small, animated diorama called Star Struck, a toy robot sits in a frayed easy chair. Clutching a tissue, the robot rocks back and forth as if seized with sobs. He is watching a tiny TV set that is broadcasting Fritz Lang’s seminal sci-fi film Metropolis and weeping over the fate of the movie’s shimmering gold robot, Maria. Of course, as far as he is concerned, Maria is the heroine, not the villain of the piece. After all, somebody has to keep those human workers in the Underground City in their place.

  ‘Robots: Evolution of a Cultural Icon,’ runs Jan. 23–April 5 at the Sonoma County Museum. An opening reception for it and the accompanying show, ‘John LeBaron Photographs,’ is slated for Friday, Jan. 23, from 5pm to 7pm. 425 Seventh St., Santa Rosa. 707.579.1500.


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inaug-oh-bama!

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01.14.09

“This,” happily predicts Democrats of Napa Valley organizer Joanne Gifford, “is going to be something close to a harmonic convergence!” Gifford is not talking about the Mayan calendar, but rather about the Jan. 20 inauguration of Barack H. Obama as the 44th president of the United States. “There are going to be so many people so jacked about this in the same room celebrating the same thing,” she enthuses. In fact, Napa’s official celebration at the Napa Valley Marriott Hotel and Spa is so effusive that it’s almost sold-out. A $35 donation buys a night of giddy camaraderie with a live rock band, ongoing hors d’oeuvres, a silent auction, caricature artists and the ever-popular “Obama and Me” photo op.

“If you do it right,” Gifford confides, alluding to having one’s picture taken standing next to a cardboard cutout of Mr. Obama, “it’s really hard to tell” that the prez is less than three-dimensional. But at least we can guarantee that he’ll be properly dressed. The Napa Dems are planning a formal celebration with revelers dressed up appropriately, but Gifford is sanguine. “You’ve got to realize that we’re dealing with a bunch of Democrats and progressives,” she sighs. “We’re hoping for semiformal.” The fun runs 8pm to midnight at the Marriott, 3425 Solano Ave., Napa. 707.257.1208.

Meanwhile, the Gaia Napa Valley Hotel & Spa finds a way to benefit the College Tour 2009 for the Boys and Girl Club by hosting a black-tie blowout that night. Proceeds help college-bound teens tour black universities on the East Coast. Gaia, 3600 Broadway, American Canyon. From 6pm. $75. 707.689.5366.

In Marin County, the day begins early with swearing-in ceremony celebrations at the Sausalito Cruising Club (300 Napa St., Sausalito; 8am; $10; 415.388.8470) and the Lark Theater (549 Magnolia Ave., Larkspur; 9am; $10; 415.924.5111) and swells to a 7pm gala inauguration party at the McInnis Golf Club. With a 90.3 percent voter turnout rate, Marin had the second-highest number of voters of any California county and they plan to toast their success with music by the Jonny Darlin’ Band, good food and plenty of TV screens showing the Washington parties that already occupy every waking minute of East Coast hostesses’ appointment schedulers. 350 Smith Ranch Road, San Rafael. $20–$25. 415.455.5400.

In Sonoma County, the Petaluma Progressives take over the Phoenix Theater for a potluck party that includes a shoe-throwing booth, a decorated shoe contest and a chance to add to the public wish list for the incoming president while dancing to the Sofa Kings and the Phoenix Jazz Band. The dress code ranges from jeans to ball gowns and shoes—size 10 in particular—figure largely. 201 Washington Blvd., Petaluma. Donations requested to benefit the Phoenix and the Petaluma Big Tent. From 6pm. 707.792.7726.

For complete inauguration party details, see Events, p46.


Letters to the Editor

01.14.09

Ain’t gonna happen

For years, I have been reading every issue of the Bohemian and enjoy it very much. I also read the Pacific Sun. One item I enjoy in the Sun is the “Trivia Cafe,” which is written by Howard Rachelson, Marin’s Master of Trivia.

It would be great if we could have a similar column in the Bohemian.

Rachelson can be reached at [delete], or better yet, if you could locate a Sonoma County trivia writer, maybe Gaye LeBaron would undertake writing the column?

It would be fun, and I know your readers would appreciate it.

Dave Johnson
Via email

Those indefatigable Blau Fans

A Bohemian reader made a keen observation and a great suggestion (Letters, “David Templeton’s New Best Friend,” Jan. 7). Is the Spreckels Performing Arts Center on the Press Democrat‘s shit list or something? They never review the shows there. I saw three fine productions at the Spreckels—You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown, Same Time, Next Year and The Glass Menagerie—none of which were reviewed by the PD and all of which featured Tara Blau in the cast.

I scour David Templeton’s reviews in the Bohemian just to be sure I don’t miss this wondrous actress onstage, because you can’t depend on the PD to give theatergoers the widest spectrum of theater happenings in Sonoma County. That also hurts attendance. The box office and the theater deserve our support, even—especially—in economic times as these. That’s why the Bohemian‘s David Templeton rocks!

That covers the reader’s keen observation. Now for his great suggestion: a feature interview with Tara Blau. Go for it!

Chris A. Lucas
Cotati

Divine Reading

 I absolutely loved reading this article (Green Zone, “Divine Intervention,” Dec. 31)! It’s so refreshing to hear what’s hopeful in today’s dreary ecological and economic situations. What an incredible topic to cover. The title captured my attention and then kept me reading through the devastating issues with China just to find out what hope the title could possibly deliver. How fortunate for China (and the rest of the world) that despite all of the spiritual and religious oppression (i.e., Tibet) that Taoism would—of course!—have a stronghold; it’s the proverbial shoe in the door. I hope to hear about the many thousands of green activists reclaiming their country and lives. May the hopes of these individuals be realized! Good for the Chinese government to be including Taoist masters in their discussion of policy. It’s about time! Thanks to these masters for setting a green example and taking action. It’s a gleam of light to the rest of the world. If China can get green, who won’t?

Rachel Balunsat
Santa Rosa

Your letter gives us a quick chance to shout out about our new Green Zone columnist, Juliane Poirier Locke. A Napa resident, Juliane has written a book on sustainable winemaking and is a terrific new addition to our bristle of editorial voice. See her first column on p13.

The Trend in lobster liberation

A new lease on life at 140? That’s what George, a 140-year-old, 20-pound lobster, is getting thanks to a New York City restaurant that recently agreed to send him back to his ocean home.

PETA predicts that the trend in lobster liberation will continue. As we learn more about sea animals and how similar they are to us in so many ways, more and more people are having trouble with the idea of putting them on the table.

 

Like George, lobsters can live to be more than 100 years old, they recognize individual lobsters, remember past acquaintances, have elaborate courtship rituals, and help guide young lobsters across the ocean floor by holding claws in a line that can stretch for many yards. Lobsters can also feel pain, and they suffer immensely when they are cut, broiled or boiled alive.

You don’t have to send a lobster back to sea to make a difference; just keep these clever crustaceans out of the cooking pot and try healthy vegetarian foods instead. To find out more, visit [ http://www.lobsterlib.com/ ]www.lobsterlib.com.

Paula Moore
People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PETA)


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De La Montanya Vineyards & Winery

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Not surprisingly, I’m charged with furnishing the wine for family holiday gatherings. I’ve learned to bring a white to my sister’s house, where the red/white divide is roughly demarcated from the vegetarian gravy boat to the bread basket. This year, I scored a hit with Alsatian Pinot Gris, the first bottle ever emptied on the other side of the mashed potato/drumstick line.

Although my brother-in-law is the recognized red-blooded sports fan of the family, white wine is his preferred potable, and then only rarely. So when out of the blue he invited me to visit the De La Montanya tasting room, I recalled that their Pinot won sweepstakes at the 2007 Sonoma County Harvest Fair, and wondered if he would warm up to the light, cranberry jelly-toned, earthy 2006 Tina’s Vineyard Pinot Noir ($32). Yet he resisted even the gorgeous raspberry-perfumed, satiny 2007 Christine’s Vineyard Pinot Noir ($36).

Anyone could appreciate the sweet floral and papaya charms of the 2007 Felta Creek Solstice ($28), served cold on a hot day. But in an unexpected hitch in the usual arc of taste, the deeper we got into the reds—like the 2006 Felta Creek Syrah ($28) with cracked pepper, twigs, plum-grape black fruit and brisk finish—the broader his approving smile. “Now this I like!” Go figure. Maybe it was just that we got deeper into the wines generally.

Meanwhile, I liked the 2006 Fumé Blanc ($18), which is barrel-fermented yet retains sizzling acidity and grapefruit zest. Speaking of sizzling, De La Montanya’s PinUp series of labels sports black-and-white photos of some of their saucier wine club members in fishnet stockings and cocktail dresses; toasting, posing, rolling over barrels, even getting tangled in pallet-wrap. It’s a cheeky sideline for a winery that’s partly in it for kicks and giggles. Real estate and vineyard developer Dennis De La Montanya couldn’t have been more efficaciously positioned when he founded the winery in 2003. After all, three of the most important fundamentals in winegrowing are location, location and location. The winery turns out 30 small lots of diverse varietals in an attractive little building tucked under Westside Road, affectionately called “the barn.”

Taking a look around the tasting room, crowers and crooners round out the collection of curios. Roosters perch around and above the bar, and rockers Journey and Eddie Money appear on limited-edition bottles. And what did the brother-in-law come away with? The biggest Zin in the house. Alas, he was only on a gifting mission for his father, who unwittingly delivers this enthusiastic review: De La Montanya—red—is pretty much the only wine he drinks.

De La Montanya Vineyards and Winery, 999 Foreman Lane, Healdsburg. Monday–Friday, 11am–5pm. Tasting fee $5. 707.433.3711.



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Won’t Be Fooled Again

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01.14.09

BY THE WAY: Those of us paying attention were already alarmed by Oprah’s thighs in December 2007. Because we knew she was!

Today’s good news is that with George W. Bush’s imminent departure there’ll be no brain vacuum to be filled in the White House. In fact, Barack Obama ushers intellect into an Oval Office that’s sorely lacked it since the dawn of this new century. The bad news is our next president will need more than brains to deal with the shit storm awaiting him. Expect practically all things touched by Mr. Decider Guy to progressively worsen for months, if not years yet to come. Of course, crisis begets hope. Hope cultivates grand opportunity. And there’s nothing like hitting bottom to encourage us to look up for a change.

A popular vendor proudly serves up his juicy “Best of the Wurst” wieners in Seattle’s Capitol Hill neighborhood. Now, after eight meat-grinding, pig-squealing years of a federal government run by fundamentalist Bible-bots, dim-lit idealogues, corporate whores, Republican Party hacks and neocon hot dogs, Americans might well feel the outgoing Bush administration has righteously earned the slightly modified epitaph “Worst of the Worst” chiseled in its gravestone—with every semantic entanglement, sausage metaphor and condiment included.

Sadly, when George Walker Bush ambles back to Texas next Tuesday, smugly oblivious to the enormous scope of still-unfolding calamities he’s inflicted upon this planet, our tragedy will be that his epitaph will not yet be affixed, nor will his horrific legacy be ambling off to Dallas with him. No, sirree. That Bush II legacy will long be haunting our land, stinking of rot and burning like napalm.

The question now, though, is whether Barack Obama’s own incoming administration—specifically, a cabinet and advisory team crammed tight with talented and accomplished players—is up to harnessing political lightning bolts threatening virtually every aspect of life on earth. Most Team Obama players sport middle-right to slightly left political persuasions. Does Team Obama have the drive, the creative vision and the gravitas to tackle monumental problems by applying radically humane solutions aimed at benefiting the many? What’s certain is that old ways of playing these games simply will not do. But personal histories and familial ties place most cabinet and advisory choices in lockstep with older regimes and the privileged few.

Abraham Lincoln had his cabinet of rivals. John F. Kennedy fielded the best and the brightest. Pundits tout Team Obama as a hybrid of the two. But will disparate personalities like those Obama has tapped work together as a team? Will they share resources, combine talents, put egos aside and direct their energies to a mutual higher purpose, innovating as one to solve problems dire times demand, or will they devolve into turf-warring backbiters, slouching off at the buzzer as “the Worst of the Best”?

To get a feel for what to expect from Dream Team Obama here’s a thumbnail handicap of prominent members and nominees:

Vice President—Joe Biden Biden carried water for the credit card industry’s bankruptcy law and is a foreign policy hawk. But he’s progressive on labor, education, the environment, health, energy and taxes.

White House Chief of Staff—Rahm Emanuel Could a guy named in honor of a Zionist terrorist, a former house leadership member who holds dual Israeli-American citizenships, whose nickname happens to be “Rahmbo” and whose documented escapades include mailing a coworker putrefied fish and venting anger at political opponents by slamming steak knives into a table while screaming “Dead! Dead! Dead!”—could such a White House Chief of Staff possibly be any worse news for Palestinians?

State—Hillary Clinton She’s battle-tested, measured for success and world-class connected. But will Hill deliver on Obama’s terms? And where does Bill figure into this equation?

Treasury—Timothy Geithner Multigenerational family connections. As the president of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York, Geithner played ball for Paulson with Bear Stearns and AIG, but refused to pony up for Lehman. A Larry Summer’s underling, but really Robert Rubin’s boy. A past IMF director and Council on Foreign Relations Senior Fellow.

Chief Performance Officer—Nancy Killefer Supports entitlement reform. A pity her reforms don’t extend to corporate-welfare entitlements.

Defense—Robert Gates Can anyone stomach saying this guy’s name—and change—in the very same sentence?

Attorney General—Eric Holder Marc Rich is a red herring served on smoke and mirrors. Truth is, Bush ops fear Holder will come after them.

Interior—Ken Salazar Gang of 14 member and Joe Lieberman bud. Voted against enhanced CAFE standards, against repealing oil-company tax breaks, against requiring the U.S. Corps of Engineers to take global warming into account, but is for off-shore drilling.

Agriculture—Tom Vilsack A bonbon to the Midwest. Can Vilsack convince farmers that corn is a food?

Labor—Hilda Solis Born to immigrant parents in Los Angeles, Solis may be the brightest progressive hope in Obama’s cabinet. This U.S. House member and John F. Kennedy Profile in Courage award winner is a dedicated labor activist and environmental justice advocate. Chosen by The Nation magazine’s readership as Obama’s most encouraging pick.

Health and Human Services—Tom Daschle Ex–Senate Majority Leader may have learned things while banished to the wilderness, i.e., real life outside the D.C. bubble. Daschle likes single-payer healthcare but finds it “politically problematic.”

Transportation—Ray LaHood Moderate Republican Christian Arab American. Appointed so Bob Gates won’t feel lonely?

Energy—Steven Chu UC Berkeley Nobel Prize winner and thoughtful, hope-filled pick. But listen closely to his new nukes stance, and monitor any BP connections.

Education—Arne Duncan European league pro b-ball player and Chicago Public Schools Supe. Could be a surprise winner.

Veterans Affairs—Eric Shinseki Spoke truth to the Bush power machinery and got shit-canned for his efforts.  

Homeland Security—Janet Napolitano In the words of Pennsylvania governor Ed Rendell, “Janet’s perfect for that job. Because for that job, you have to have no life. Janet has no family. Perfect. She can devote, literally, 19 to 20 hours a day to it.”

Director of National Intelligence—Retired Admiral Dennis Blair Noam Chomsky writes that East Timor, having voted overwhelmingly for independence, was invaded in 1999 by pro-Indonesian militia, where they “murdered some 2,000 people, raped hundreds of women and girls, displaced three-quarters of the population and demolished 75 percent of the country’s infrastructure.” On the heels of this devastation, Admiral Blair, against orders, offered additional aid to Indonesia.

CIA—Leon Panetta Nonspook background may actually be a plus for this damaged and dangerous agency.

EPA—Lisa Jackson Former New Jersey commissioner of environmental protection. Jersey climate- and energy-crats liked her, while local toxic-cleanup folks didn’t.

Office of Management and Budget—Peter Orszag Calls for saving Social Security—by cutting benefits. “Saving Social Security: The Diamond-Orszag Plan.”

Director of the White House National Economic Council—Larry Summers Today’s recession, brought to you by policies espoused by . . . Larry Summers! Summers pushed to repeal Glass-Steagall, the Great Depression–era lynchpin guaranteeing the integrity of the American banking system. Then, in 1999, Summers joined with fellow Clintonista Robert Rubin, and together with Alan Greenspan the trio successfully pushed for derivatives deregulation which in turn led to . . . now.

Clearly, Obama’s challenges aren’t all that’s daunting; many of his picks are, too. But what George the 43rd has left his successor battling is nothing short of an infinite-headed hydra, an ever-growing neo-mythic beast of epic proportions. As a consequence, ours is a constitutional republic in crisis. Virtually every institution in our national firmament stands presently at risk.

While the decision-making machinery seems a distant apparatus, it’s true that real, fundamental change also rises from slow powerful gears placed in motion by vast groundswells of populace activism. As our nation recalibrates its inherent potential to do good and then do better, awakened finally from ghoulish nightmares of pettiness, war and despair, then perhaps we’ll emerge into a more humane post-stupid universe—and perhaps then one day, as social philosopher Pete Townsend once so sardonically put it, “We won’t get fooled again.”


Yes He Can

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the arts | stage |

ACTII: Rick Reynolds returns, as funny as ever.

By David Templeton

Way back in the early 1990s, long before confessional, monologue-based solo shows were the commonplace theatrical occurrence they are today, Petaluma standup comic Rick Reynolds launched a fresh, innovative one-man show titled Only the Truth Is Funny, the true story of Reynolds’ hilariously screwed-up childhood and his subsequent search for meaning in life. Workshopped in San Francisco comedy clubs before landing onstage at the Theater on the Square, where it became the darling of critics and audiences from the North Bay all the way to Hollywood, the show was a certified phenomenon. For a while, that first show, and the one that followed it, All Grown Up . . . and No Place to Go, seemed to be propelling Reynolds toward certain stardom.

Only the Truth Is Funny was a huge hit,” Reynolds agrees, seated in the East Petaluma house he bought after his marriage—much of which he described in his first two shows—disintegrated a few years back. “That show sold out every night in San Francisco and Los Angeles, it went to New York City, it became a special on Showtime and was nominated for a Grammy. I made a couple million bucks off my shows. All Grown Up became a TV show, which a lot of people saw, though not enough people to keep it on the air. It was all a big deal. I was a big deal, and everyone was talking about me, wondering what I was going to do with this newfound stardom.”

Reynolds laughs, spreading his arms to take in his home office lined with shelves of his thousands of DVDs. To one side of the room is his desk, where he’s been hammering out a quieter living writing television pilots and movie scripts, most of which have been sold to Hollywood though none have yet made it to the screen. “I don’t know who was more surprised when I didn’t become a great big TV star, me or everyone else,” laughs Reynolds, who easily admits to having suffered from serious depression after the dissolution of his marriage.

During the last several years, he’s been laying low, being a dad, writing his screenplays, creating another show—Happiness, which ran for several weeks at the Marsh in San Francisco—and quietly planning his eventual comeback.

“Back when everything was happening,” Reynolds says, “everyone kept expecting me to tour the country with one of my shows, which is what you do with a successful stage show. But I didn’t want to tour back then. My wife had just had a baby, I was working on the TV show, and I wanted to stay close to home. But my kids are older now. Cooper is getting ready to go off to college pretty soon. My kids can handle it if I start to travel a bit.”

Though he could have created another new show, Reynolds elected to dust off the show that started it all. Next week, at Cinnabar Theater in Petaluma, he begins a “workshop run” of a show he is calling Only the Truth Is Funny 2009.

“A lot of people are going to scoff at this, but I swear this is a better show than the original,” he says. “It’s a cleaner, stronger, funnier, more entertaining show now, and I can’t wait to get it out in front of people.”

Could lightning strike twice for the godfather of solo shows? Reynolds believes it can—and will. Investors have been calling up asking about the new show and potential tour. Big name directors have expressed interest in directing the show when it’s ready.

 

“If I’m the godfather of solo performance,” says Reynolds, “though maybe it should be the grandfather of solo performance by this point—it’s because nobody before me had blended standup with confessional monologues in a one-person show, not in the way I do it. There were some solo shows before me and some people had some success, but after my show went over the top, there were hundreds of people trying to launch shows like mine, and most of them failed. Most comics fail when they try to do this, and I can only suggest that it’s because you have to have a really messed up story to tell.”

With a happy laugh, Reynolds adds, “and most people’s lives just aren’t as messed up as mine.”

‘Only the Truth Is Funny 2009’ runs Jan. 28–29, and Feb. 1, 5–7, 12–13, at 7:30pm. Cinnabar Theater, 3333 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. $20. 707.763.8920.



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Yes He Can

the arts | stage | ACTII: Rick Reynolds...
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