Love

We Love It!

Golden years: The Dimitrioffs, sharing a kiss, above, prove that being in love doesn’t just happen to young folks–it endures.

Benham Studio Gallery


‘Best of’ local romance–
love, Sonoma County style

LOVERS COME FROM near and far to experience the fairy-tale beauty of Sonoma County. Watch them walk, full of wonder, through Armstrong Woods, where the towering redwoods beckon like a sacred open-air cathedral. Or see them share a simple picnic of crusty bread, Jack cheese, and spicy zinfandel wine, purchased from local merchants and enjoyed amid the white ducks and sunshine in Sonoma’s historic plaza. Watch them wend their way through the romantic wineries scattered all around the region, from the scenic mountains to the sparkling ocean. See these lovelorn sweethearts as they marvel at breathtaking scenery, gorgeous sunsets, and magical cricket-chirping nights. Or observe them strolling arm in arm and starry-eyed through a farmers’ market at dusk, intoxicated by the sights, smells, and each other’s company. Yes, lovers come from near and far to this captivating destination, this Eden called Sonoma County. But wait, isn’t that you we spy partaking of these sensory romantic pleasures right here in your own backyard? You, who hails from Graton or Guerneville or Glen Ellen? Yup, you smirk, it sure is.


Best Subterranean Romantic Walk

Wait for dry weather. Acquire love object. Proceed to the 700 block of G Street of Petaluma. Face west in the direction of the Jack W. Cavanaugh Jr. Recreation Center. Pause. Affirm that you and love object are unseen. Turn left 90 degrees. Regard assemblage of brush and thickets. Assure love object that Section 11.36.050 of the Petaluma Muni Code outlawing passage through a drainage tunnel is only passively enforced. Discern pathway through brush. Proceed. Turn left 90 degrees. Regard mouth of large drainage tunnel. Recite canto III of Dante’s Inferno: “All hope abandon, ye who enter here.” Pause while love object is impressed. Kiss. Proceed into tunnel. Exit tunnel on the banks of the Petaluma River at First Street. Kiss again.
D.H.


Best Place to Meet a Blind Date

There is no place better to meet a person you’ve never seen before than a place where he or she cannot be confused with anyone else. At the Church of One Tree at Juilliard Park in Santa Rosa, there never is anyone else, so confusion is virtually impossible. The church, believe it or not, is the home of the offbeat memorial to one-time Santa Rosa resident and “Believe It or Not” newspaper columnist Robert Ripley. It functions as a kind of museum of oddities and weirdness sought after by the single-minded collector of creepy facts and artifacts. The attractively designed, somewhat Gothic church is, as the name implies, built entirely from the wood of a single tree. The county’s least populated tourist attraction, it stands across the street from the second-least populated spot, the grounds and former home of renowned botanist Luther Burbank. Beautifully planted with roses and rare flowers, the Burbank gardens are the perfect place for a get-to-know-you walk with your brand-new date. Ripley Museum Church of One Tree, 492 Sonoma Ave., Santa Rosa; 524-5233. Burbank Home and Gardens, corner of Santa Rosa and Sonoma avenues; 524-5445.
D.T.


Best Unlikely Spot for Romance

The North Bay Area has, among its many delights, no shortage of romantic spots to which enamored lovers can escape for a weekend of smooching and intimate revelry. Cloverdale is not often mentioned as one of them. Out on the far-flung northern edge of the county, the tiny town-that-time-passed-by is, of late, known mainly for the fact that the freeway that once detoured down Main Street now whooshes cars right past without so much as a chance to blink. Therein dwells the romance of Cloverdale: What better place to get away from it all than a town where nobody goes? It is icing on the cake that the sun-baked burg happens to be situated among gorgeous rolling hills and abundantly fertile agricultural scenery. Lake Sonoma lies a scant few miles away; Cloverdale Kayak and Canoe will rent a recreational flotation device and even deliver it to the lake for you. Wineries stand waiting nearby, and restaurant-rich Healdsburg is only a 12-minute drive away. For lodgings, there is the oh-so-romantic Shelford House, a bed and breakfast efficiently and warmly run by Bill and Lou Ann Brenock. With views of early morning hot-air balloons hovering over the surrounding vineyards, the rambling Victorian has cozy, comfortable rooms and a relaxed atmosphere that easily sets the mood for the most pleasurable cuddling that any two paramours could ever imagine. Cloverdale Kayak & Canoe, 1148 S. Cloverdale Blvd.; 894-3078. Shelford House, 29955 River Road, Cloverdale; 894-5956.
D.T.


Best Place for an Indecent Proposal

I knew a guy once who said something I never forgot. “I was dating a woman,” he said, “and when I knew I really liked her, knew I wanted to move the relationship to a more intimate level, I took her out to dinner and popped the question, ‘Would you be my lover?'” Nothing new there; the sexual dance has been commenced in eateries for as long as food was served warm by competent professionals to customers who wanted to get naked together. What was novel about my friend’s approach was his choice of restaurant. “Denny’s,” he explained, “is so plastic, artificial, and grotesquely lighted that she could never accuse me afterwards of bamboozling her into bed with tricks and mere scene-setting. If she said yes, it could only be because she meant yes.” He denied that Denny’s famous low-priced Grand Slam entrées added any subliminal sexual urging. For would-be local lovers, let it be noted that there are three locations to choose from: one in Petaluma (4986 Petaluma Blvd. N.) and two in Santa Rosa (115 Baker Ave. and 1000 Steele Lane). So how did it go with my friend’s proposition? She said yes. “In fact, we didn’t even wait around for our omelets to arrive,” he added. “We couldn’t wait to get back to my place.”
D.T.


Best Place to Feed an Undying Love

Love is timeless. Love is forever. For those romantic souls with a poetic bent–and those with just a touch of the macabre–the ultimate spot for a romantic picnic of cold lobster, French bread, and chilled champagne is the local cemetery. Not only is it quiet and peaceful, but burial grounds are almost always beautiful, with abundant lawns and inspiring sentiments carved in stone all around you. We suggest the Santa Rosa Memorial Park in Windsor. Being on hallowed ground, of course, you must behave respectfully. Other than that, feel free to spread your blanket, feed your undying love, and drink a healthy toast to eternity. Santa Rosa Memorial Park, Shiloh and Windsor roads, Windsor; 542-1580.
D.T.


From the March 26-April 1, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc. Maintained by .

Life

What’s Happenin’


Eric Reed

Mano a mano: Artist Steve Magliori offers a salutation to one of the characters in his “Petaluma Heritage Mural,” a comfort to four-way traffic jammers stuck at the corner of Washington Street and Petaluma Boulevard North.

‘Best of’ local culture–
a diversity of delights

DEFINING SONOMA County culture is no small task. Our culture is us. We the people of Sonoma County: we brainy book-writers and balloonists and bikers and balladeers; we bead-wearing beachcombers, buying bubbly at the ballet; we body-building backpackers bouncing boyishly in the buff; we beer-bellied bunny-breeders boasting about boating in the Bahamas; we boldly bangled bingo-boosters, buoyantly baking baguettes and brie for the boys in the band; we bungee-jumping beef barons building big, big barbecues while bitching about boycotts and borders and bombs; we baptized believers in Bibles and Buddha; we blaspheming barbarians brandishing broomsticks at boys in blue; we bare-bottomed bards and bright-eyed belchers and beggars and bowlers and bodhisattvas and babes. Put another way: Culture is what you see when you walk down the street. Here are a few of our favorite sights.



Best Profane Band Name

The art to naming a band is like no other. Certainly the Silver Beatles couldn’t have guessed that the punny shortening of their name would rocket with them to stardom; the fame of U2 and UB 40 (dis)honors the dole system in the United Kingdom; and the Mothers of Invention had a perverse necessity to set themselves apart. Most everyone has a favorite name for the band that they can secretly imagine themselves fronting. My own personal pick was Peer Group until I realized that the moniker sounds as if we would have to play some awful kind of fusion-y jazz. And then there’s Lungbutter. Certainly no other local heroes have created a band name as vomitously memorable as this punk outfit. We salute these gruesome lads as they break their mother’s hearts with each new gig.
G.G.


Best Place to Strike out on New Year’s Eve

Forget those kewl clubs and restaurants offering pricey multicourse New Year’s Eve dinner-dance extravaganzas. Ditch the trendy street parties with the scant food and the fireworks display blocked by the city administration building. The stylish place to ring in the new year is Petaluma’s Boulevard Bowl. Open 24 hours, seven days a week, this bustling joint goes to town on New Year’s Eve with unlimited cosmic bowling (strobe lights and illuminated pins) from 9 p.m. till midnight. Employees distribute hats, horns, and whistles, and serve sodas and champagne in plastic flutes. With DJ music, spontaneous dancing on the concourse, free pretzels, a New Year’s countdown on the loud- speaker, and a buffet breakfast at midnight, how can you strike out? Boulevard Bowl, 1100 Petaluma Blvd. S., Petaluma; 762-4581.
P.H.


Best Unknown Cultural Resource

That would be the 3.3 acres of dogbane recently protected by the Sonoma County Agricultural Preservation and Open Space District just south of the Luther Burbank Center. The rare parcel was preserved in December by the county Board of Supervisors as part of a deal allowing a developer to construct several dozen homes in what was previously declared a greenbelt area and after intense lobbying by Native Americans. Dogbane is an indigenous plant traditionally used by Indian people for cordage and net-making. The parcel just off Highway 101 is one of the largest stands of dogbane left in the western United States, according to experts.
S.P.


Best Role Model

Sure, he’s got a day job just like the rest of us, renting canoes and boats to tourists and day-trippers from his Burke’s Canoe Trips launch pad in Forestville. But when he’s not overseeing the intricacies of tying on a life preserver, local hero Bob Burke is preserving life in other ways. A tireless volunteer, Burke is different from those of us who drop a tin of peas in the food bin each holiday season and consider our tithing complete. Burke is the kind of community activist who dispenses holiday treats, joy, and kind words to kids who are fighting for their lives. Dedicating himself to those youngsters who brave leukemia and other cancers, or whose lives are otherwise distressed by extreme illness, Burke hosts holiday parties, finds special gifts that weary parents might not be able to afford, and organizes weekly outings for those children who don’t have a lot of fun between doctors’ visits and chemo treatments. A very special person indeed, Bob Burke is our top pick for best role model. May all those whose lives he touches grow up to be as loving as he is. To donate your time or cash, contact Bob at Burke’s Canoe Trips, 887-1222.
G.G.


Best Place to Tune into Folk and Ethnic Music

Once a month, a remarkable exponent of the Bay Area music scene holds forth in the acoustically inviting, 160-seat hall of the Universalist Fellowship of Sonoma County. The concerts are intimate, eclectic, often ethnic, and highly rewarding. “I just want it to be a place for local performers to play in a concert setting, and try and give some bands some exposure,” says series organizer Robert Lunceford, who also mans the soundboard for the shows. Eleven concerts have been held since the series started in 1996, featuring such diverse acts as Aire Flamenco, Cats & Jammers, Gator Beat, the Westerlys, and Lunceford’s own Celtic band Atlantic Shore. Several more shows will be held before the annual break during the summer months. 3641 Stony Point Road (at Todd Road), Santa Rosa; 584-0511.
B.R.


Best Place to Prolong Christmas

Christmas is hyped religiously for months before the event, so why not extend it a tad afterward when all the holiday pressure has been tossed with yesterday’s gift wrap. Three Kings Day at Gloria Ferrer Champagne Caves, held the first Sunday after New Year’s Day, is a beloved Spanish tradition celebrating the Epiphany. It is a real treat for children. Settle at a table in the cozy tasting room and listen as carolers, accompanied by a rousing piano, perform by the roaring fireplace. Eventually the three wise men, decked out in all their glittering finery, magically appear from parts unseen and present gifts to all the children. There’s free cake and hot chocolate for the kids. Adults can purchase bubbly to sip as the festivities unfold. Gloria Ferrer Champagne Caves, 23555 Hwy. 121, Sonoma; 996-7256.
P.H.


Best Place to Laugh Yourself Silly

Well, you never know who’s going to turn up in Pauline Pfandler’s improvisational acting classes. Perhaps your shrink, hairdresser, personal trainer, or dental hygienist. That’s because the award-winning director has put together a class of theater games that is fast becoming a local phenomenon. And as word spreads, more and more people who never thought they could act are signing up for a hilarious eight weeks of theater classes. What makes improv so much fun? You get to play for hours. You can pretend you’re the president’s girlfriend–and dump him! You can fall in love with a snail, be a chimpanzee, and eat as much chocolate cake as you want. Best of all, you can fall on the floor and laugh yourself silly. So if laughing is what you haven’t had enough of lately, check it out. Pauline Pfandler’s Improv Acting Class is held on the lower level of the United Methodist Church, 500 N. Main St., Sebastopol; 824-9140.
S.P.


Best Place to Pipe in Local Flavor

Step into the tasting room at Johnson’s Alexander Valley Vineyards and you are faced with a rare intersection of history, viticulture, and high technology. Standing majestically against the far wall is an imposing, three-manual pipe organ, a glossy, cream-colored antique first deployed at the Capitol Theater in Sacramento. It arrived at the winery in a series of crates, but is now almost fully functional, with 864 pipes ranging from pencil-sized high notes to booming 20-foot diapasons. In accordance with its theatrical heritage, the remarkable instrument also features an array of percussion and sound effects: cymbals, sleigh bells, a bird whistle, a marimba and a glockenspiel, with the vibraharp still to be installed. Each note can be triggered electronically, and a growing repertoire is recorded on a computer program activated from the winetasting bar. “We play it every day,” says winery owner Tom Johnson. And yes, they take requests. Johnson’s Alexander Valley Vineyards, 8333 Hwy. 128, Healdsburg; 433-2319.
B.R.


Best Place to Watch One Movie and Listen to Another

What is it about the upstairs movie theaters in Sebastopol Cinemas that brings out the worst in its patrons? Is it the small screens or the cushy seats, or is it the sound from the neighboring movie that often seeps in? Take our last outing. Behind us, two middle-aged women were engaged in a loud gossip session through the coming attractions with no letup as the opening credits began. Finally, after our numerous, futile-pointed stares, we politely asked them to hush, earning their scorn. Then the woman next to us unwrapped a several-course meal, including chips, a planet-sized sandwich, a couple of oranges, dessert, and a drink. The crumpling, crunching, and slurping continued through the middle of the movie. That’s when someone near the front began rocking what seemed to be the squeakiest seat in the house. Hey, if we wanted to listen to yakking and finger licking, we’d simply stay home and rent a video. Sebastopol Cinemas, 6868 McKinley St.; 829-3456.
S.P.


Best Place to Stay Grounded

You can let your imagination fly while remaining safely on the ground at the Pacific Coast Air Museum, a collection of working aircraft of varying ages, sizes, and functions, ranging from a 1953 Russian-made twin-engine transport to a Vietnam War-era Huey helicopter. The museum is open four days a week for walk-around inspections and conversation with the knowledgeable volunteer staff, but once a month, they schedule a “climb aboard weekend” and invite visitors to do just that. Housed at the Sonoma County Airport, PCAM is open weekends from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., and Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. Pacific Coast Air Museum, Becker Boulevard at North Laughlin Road, off Airport Boulevard, Santa Rosa; 575-7900.
B.R.


Best Place to Curse the Long, Verdant History of Farming

The light is the yellowy golden color that must have filtered through the walls of Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater’s gourd-home; the air is as crisp as the leaves on the sidewalk; the children are excitedly planning their costumes for the upcoming end-of-month candy-gorge; and all you want to do is to get from the northern confines of the county to the southern end. An easy enough job 11 months of the year; the state has kindly provided a freeway for just such a trip. But when southern travelers approach Petaluma on weekend afternoons in October, a terrible thing happens: the traffic stops. And starts again. And then stops. Surely, you think to yourself, there must be some terrible accident. You might even stifle back a tear worrying about the poor innocents lying helplessly on the pavement. And then, as you inch along in first gear over the grade, you realize it is something far uglier than an accident: it’s the maze. The maize maze that has been erected along Stony Point Road just alongside the freeway for the last two years. Yeah, sure, you realize with a bitter acuity, it’s fun when you are lost in the labyrinth crafted laboriously by local farmer Jim Groverman, but when you already have a pumpkin and a happy afternoon memory, it’s galling to slow down so that others can gawk. What’s worse is when you yourself slow down uncontrollably alongside the maze so that you can gawk. Let ’em brake.
G.G.


Best Proof the Drug War Is Stupid

Does the left hand attached to the long arm of the law know what the right hand is doing when weeding out drug criminals? Last September, the Sonoma County Police Chiefs Association adopted a common protocol for the enforcement of Proposition 215, which allows the cultivation and use of medical marijuana. But the same day that the police and district attorney adopted these guidelines, Rambo-like state law enforcement officials in low-flying helicopters swooped down on terrified Cazadero residents as part of a 12-hour CAMP (Campaign Against Marijuana Planting) raid. One legitimate medical marijuana patient spotted gun-toting agents in camouflage gear skulking around her property. After much harassment, she managed to explain the new protocol on marijuana usage to the hapless state officials, who had no idea it existed.
J.A.


Best Place to Be Shocked by the Beauty and Ugliness of Public Art

Like an eye-opening lesson on the best- and worst-case scenarios of small-town public art projects, Petaluma is home to two impossible-to-miss displays of unabashed civic pride: one stirring and nostalgic, the other down right creepy. On the south side of the intersection of Washington Street and Petaluma Boulevard, is the just-completed Petaluma Heritage mural, by the hard-working artist Steve Magliora. Fifty feet long, it is a Cannery Row-style depiction of the people, factories, riverboats, and steam engines that once existed in the former egg capital of the world, beautifully painted by Magliora and rippling with colorful river-town atmosphere. Directly across the street, in the same trash-strewn corner it’s stood on for a decade now, is the memorial sculpture to Bill Soberanes, self-proclaimed “peopleologist,” newspaper columnist, and founder of the World Wrist Wrestling Championship. The statue is a weird, grimacing, intertwined bronze battle between a vein-popping Soberanes–his then-young face contorted in a horrifying expression of effort and pain–and a more sedate, anonymous combatant (modeled after Bill Rhodes, an ex-wrist wrestling champ and former director of the Polly Klaas Volunteer Search Center, who resigned amid allegations of child molestation). The only arms shown are the ones locked in battle, giving the impression of a memorial to some legendary disagreement between two angry amputees. The best thing that can be said about the frightening structure is that it seems vaguely homoerotic, and the hollow heads are, apparently, an excellent place to dispose of cigarette butts and cola cans.
B.L.P.


Best Reason to Go to Church

Once a month or so, the corner of Howard and Western in downtown Petaluma becomes a lively, happy, colorful pageant of youthful enthusiasm and good old-fashioned dress-up showmanship as dozens of predominantly young Latinos (and a number of elegantly mature couples) show up for St. Vincent de Paul Church’s well-attended formal dances. Though the occasional casual dresser does appear–some of the themed dances are intentionally more formal than others–it is charming and heart-stirring to see well-dressed couples and couples-to-be taking the air on the steps outside the church hall on a balmy spring night before returning inside for social mingling and spirited footwork. Ranging in price from $7 to $10, the dances are fundraisers for the Hispanic Youth Group run by the church and have become a staple of Petaluma’s vital Hispanic community. Call the church at 762-4278 for schedule information.
D.T.


Best Convergence of Old and New

For the past 67 years, the Speer family has sold groceries at a bustling corner a block off River Road in Forestville–as evidenced by the well-worn wooden floorboards. Over the decades, the store has expanded 12 times, but the family feeling remains strong, as does customer loyalty. A butcher counter and deli, an in-house bakery, a well-stocked wine aisle, and a heavily trafficked produce department help this local crossroads draw regular shoppers from as far afield as Cloverdale and Bodega Bay. With annual sales of about $5 million, “we’re just big enough that we can still buy right and keep our prices down,” says Stan Speer, whose parents founded the business in 1931. The family’s collection of rare decorative Jim Beam decanters and liquor bottles remains displayed on a long shelf high on the front wall, a colorful link to the store’s past. Speer’s Market, 7891 Mirabel Road, Forestville; 887-2024.
B.R.


Best Radical Historian

Sonoma State University’s best-known media man arrived as an assistant professor of sociology back in 1973, when he was “astounded to discover that the department didn’t offer any media classes.” Carl Jensen changed that in a big way. By 1984, he had established the new Communications Studies Department. But even before that, in 1976, Jensen had introduced Project Censored–his annual effort to spotlight important news stories that deserved wider exposure–which by 1992 had garnered its own PBS special hosted by journalist Bill Moyers, who has served on the project’s advisory board. Frustrated when Project Censored didn’t earn the widespread attention he sought, Jensen countered with a yearly list of Junk Food stories “to see if I could make the media fall into their own trap.” They did. Nowadays, “I get more press out of Junk Food News,” he admits ruefully. Retired since 1996, Jensen remains active on the Project Censored panel of judges and is at work on his next book, Stories That Changed America: Muckrackers of the 20th Century.
B.R.


Best Radio Voice in the Night

From Armstrong to Zawinul, pre-bop to post-fusion, Jerry Dean has heard it all–and so have his listeners, as his conversational steel-wool baritone has been an enduring accompaniment to jazz on the Bay Area’s airwaves. The only master of ceremonies the Russian River Jazz Fest has ever needed, Dean is best known for and through his tenure at the late and lamented KJAZ-FM, the now defunct Alameda-based 24-hour jazz station where “I was the first person on the air when they signed on in August 1959, and the last one when they signed off in September 1995.” Dean now holds forth from a studio in his East Bay home, where he concocts his weekly traditional jazz session for local listeners on Santa Rosa’s KJZY. “What I’m doing is exactly what I did for all those years at KJAZ,” he rumbles. Broader self-syndication is in the works, but for now this regional radio institution is a Sonoma County exclusive. “Jazz with Jerry Dean” airs from 6 to 10 p.m. on Sundays on KJZY 93.7FM.
B.R.


From the March 26-April 1, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc. Maintained by .

The Scoop

Starr Time

By Bob Harris

HERE’S A NEW and important twist on the whole Fornigate thing, courtesy of our good friends up at Mother Jones magazine: Remember the GM trucks with the side-saddle gas tanks that a bunch of lawsuits alleged were like driving with a Ford Pinto strapped to each door?

Thanks to some newly released documents, it’s now clear that as far back as 1973, one of the company’s engineers actually calculated how much it would cost whenever a customer went up in flames as the result of a traffic accident. And once the lawsuits started, that engineer told GM’s lawyers that he wrote the memo, quote, “for Oldsmobile management.”

Now, since supposedly nobody had any idea there was any real danger, you can see why GM wouldn’t want that public. Well, when the engineer got on the witness stand in 13 various lawsuits, he changed his story–claiming instead that nobody at GM asked him to write the memo, nobody saw it, and he couldn’t remember why he wrote it. Apparently one fine day he just decided to do a bunch of fire-death cost-benefit analyses for his own personal amusement.

And I thought Eddie Murphy had some weird hobbies.

The earlier, more incriminating statement didn’t come out right away because a GM lawyer worked hard to get it suppressed, claiming attorney/client privilege. Thing is, you’re not allowed to do that just to conceal perjury. If that’s what happened, it’s not only unethical, it’s also obstruction of justice.

And who’s the GM attorney? None other than Kenneth Starr, now the special prosecutor accusing Bill Clinton of obstruction of justice.

The Justice Department has received a bunch of affadavits and documents and whatnot, but the current word is that their plate is full for now and they’ll get to it, uh, whenever. You can get the latest updates via the Mother Jones website, but right now it looks like Janet Reno won’t be rolling any eggs at the White House this Easter.

However, one of the lawsuits continues in Florida, and they’re calling at least some of the GM attorneys in to testify. So apparently there’s still a small but finite chance that Kenneth Starr himself might still eventually find himself precisely in Bill Clinton’s shoes. Cool.

In comparing the two cases, it may not be long before Americans have to ask themselves: What’s a worse thing to cover up–Slam-and-Flam or thank you, ma’am?

A CHUNK OF the seating chart for last week’s Time magazine 75th anniversary bash in New York was printed in the Los Angeles Times last week. The president’s table was next to the stage, and the status flowed outward from there. Want to know who the real movers and shakers are? Let’s have a look (and these were the real seating arrangements):

In the wake of the Monica Lewinsky thing, it’s no great surprise almost all of the available women in the room were seated at least five or 10 tables away from the president; the Rev. Billy Graham was right next to Clinton, just in case.

Actress Mira Sorvino was one table over, but even if she got any wild ideas, Kofi Annan was right there to talk her out of them. Raquel Welch was only two tables away, but she was seated right next to the producer of 60 Minutes. No action there.

Sharon Stone sat next to Bill Gates, who didn’t say a word to anyone but kept pointing and clicking all evening long. And Martha Stewart sat behind Sean Connery, whose bald spot now has lovely wainscotting.

Table 2 included Tom Cruise and John Glenn, whose co-workers gave them a lot to talk about: Tom starred with Dustin Hoffman in “Rain Man,” and John Glenn works in the U.S. Senate. Table 7 included Joe DiMaggio and Henry Kissinger, two guys for whom the phrase “Yankee Go Home” have entirely different meanings. And Table 9 included Muhammad Ali and Ted Kennedy, both of whom are famously good at absorbing a punch.

Finally, Kevin Costner was seated alongside Mikhail Gorbachev, who could learn at last what it’s really like to unleash one’s bombs onto a horrified population.

Speaking of which, if Clinton sincerely wants to crack down on terrorism, he should really start with Costner. Waterworld and The Postman are a matter of public record. They execute people in Texas for less.

Kevin, if you’re reading this–for the love of God, just tell us your demands. What is it you want? We’ll give it to you. Just stop what you’re doing, Kevin. Put the camera on the ground and slowly back away.

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Underreported Stories

0

Project Censored


Photo Illustration By Magali Pirard

The 10 most underreported stories of 1997

Edited By Greg Cahill

DESPITE THE END of the Cold War and recent congressional resolutions prohibiting military aid to governments that are undemocratic, involved in human rights abuses, or engaging in aggression against neighboring states, the U.S. share of the global arms sales market has soared from 16 percent to 63 percent in the past decade.

Researchers for Project Censored–a Sonoma State University–based student-faculty media-watch project now in its 22nd year–found that the mainstream media have failed to report the soaring sales of America’s arms merchants.

That activity tops the project’s 10 most underreported stories of 1997, released this week.

The nation’s arms sales policies were the focus of Guns ‘R Us, an article by reporter Martha Honey published last year in the progressive journal In These Times. That story quotes Brookings Institution fellow Lawrence Kolb, an assistant secretary of defense under President Ronald Reagan, as saying, “It’s a money game: an absurd spiral in which we export arms only to have to develop more sophisticated ones to counter those spread all over the world.”

It is the type of story that gets little play in the mainstream media, which reveled last year in seemingly endless coverage of Princess Diana’s tragic death and funeral, the trial of a British nanny accused of murdering an infant in her care, and salacious sex scandals centered around President Bill Clinton.

“Investigative journalists are writing and printing hundreds of important stories that are ignored by a major media too interested in celebrity news, infomercials, and tittilation,” says Project Censored director Peter Philips, an SSU professor of journalism.

Here are the year’s Top 10 most censored stories:

1. Clinton Administration Aggressively Promotes U.S. Arms Sales Worldwide

THE UNITED STATES is now the principal arms merchant for the world. U.S. weapons are evident in almost every conflict worldwide and reap a devastating toll on civilians, U.S. military personnel, and the socioeconomic priorities of many Third World nations.

Most U.S. weaponry is sold to strife-torn regions such as the Middle East, where–instead of promoting stability–they fan the flames of war and put U.S. troops based around the world at growing risk. The last five times U.S. troops were sent into conflict, they found themselves facing adversaries–including Iraq–that had previously received U.S. weapons, military technology, or training. Meanwhile, the Pentagon uses the presence of advanced U.S. weapons in foreign arsenals to justify increased new weapons spending–ostensibly to maintain U.S. military superiority.

Last June, the House of Representatives unanimously approved the Arms Transfer Code of Conduct, prohibiting U.S. commercial arms sales or military aid and training to foreign governments that are undemocratic, abuse human rights, or engage in aggression against neighboring states. Yet the Clinton administration, along with the Defense, Commerce, and State departments, has continued to strenuously promote the arms industry at every opportunity. With Washington’s share of the arms business jumping from 16 percent worldwide in 1988 to 63 percent today, U.S. arms dealers sell $10 billion in weapons to non-democratic governments each year. During Clinton’s first year in office, U.S. foreign military aid soared to $36 billion, more than double what President Bush approved in 1992.

Given that international arms sales exacerbate conflicts and drain scarce resources from developing countries, why does the Clinton administration push them so vigorously? The most plausible motive is the drive for corporate profits. It is no small detail that U.S. global arms market dominance has been accomplished as much through subsidies as sales. In return for arms manufacturers’ huge political contributions, many of the U.S. arms exports are paid with government grants, subsidized loans, tax breaks, and promotional activities.

Sources: The Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, October 1996, “Costly Giveaways,” by Lora Lumpe; In These Times, Aug. 11, 1997, “Gun ‘R Us,” by Martha Honey.

2. Personal-Care and Cosmetic Products May Be Carcinogenic

DO YOU USE toothpaste, shampoo, sunscreen, body lotion, makeup, or hair dye? These are among the personal-care products that consumers have been led to believe are safe but that are often contaminated with carcinogenic byproducts or contain substances that regularly react to form potent carcinogens during storage and use.

Consumers regularly assume that these products are not harmful because they believe that they are approved for safety by the Food and Drug Administration. But although the FDA classifies cosmetics (dividing them into 13 categories), it does not regulate them. An FDA document posted on the agency’s World Wide Web home page explains that “a cosmetic manufacturer may use any ingredient or raw material and market the final product without government approval.” (This is with the exception of seven established toxins, such as hexachlorophene, mercury compounds, and chloroform.) Should the FDA deem a product to be a danger to public health, it has the power to pull it from the shelves, but in many of these cases the FDA has failed to do so, while evidence mounts that some of the most common cosmetic ingredients may double as deadly carcinogens.

Examples of products with potential carcinogens are: Clairol “Nice and Easy” hair color, which releases carcinogenic formaldehyde as well as Cocamide DEA (a substance that can be contaminated with carcinogenic nitrosamines or react to produce a nitrosamine during storage or use); Vidal Sassoon shampoo (which, like the hair dye, contains Cocamide DEA); Cover Girl makeup, which contains TEA (also associated with carcinogenic nitrosamines); and Crest toothpaste, which contains titanium dioxide, saccharin, and FD&C Blue #1 (known carcinogens).

One group of the cosmetic toxins that consumer advocates are most concerned about are nitrosamines, which they claim contaminate a wide variety of cosmetic products. In the 1970s, nitrosamine contamination of cooked bacon and other nitrite-treated meats became a public-health issue, and the food industry, which is more strictly regulated than the cosmetic industry, has since drastically diminished their use in processed meats. But nitrosamines now contaminate cosmetics at significantly higher levels than were once contained in bacon.

The FDA has long known that nitrosamines in cosmetics pose a risk to public health. In 1979, FDA Commissioner Donald Kennedy called on the cosmetic industry to “take immediate measures to eliminate, to the extent possible, NDELA [a potent nitrosamine] and any other N-nitrosamine from cosmetic products.” Since that warning, however, cosmetic manufacturers have done little to remove the compound from their products, and the FDA has done even less to monitor them.

Sources: In These Times, Feb. 17, 1997, “To Die For,” by Joel Bleifuss; In These Times, March 3, 1997, “Take a Powder,” by Joel Bleifuss.

3. Big Business Seeks to Control and Influence U.S. Universities

ACADEMIA IS BEING auctioned off to the highest bidder. Increasingly, industry is creating endowed professorships, funding think tanks and research centers, sponsoring grants, and contracting for research. Under this arrangement, students, faculty, and universities serve the interest of corporations instead of the public–in the process selling off academic freedom and intellectual independence.

Although universities often claim that corporate moneys come without strings attached, this is usually not the case. A British pharmaceutical corporation, Boots, gave $250,000 to the University of California at San Francisco for research comparing its hyperthyroid drug, Synthroid, with lower-cost alternatives. Instead of demonstrating Synthroid’s superiority as Boots had hoped, the study found that the other drugs were bioequivalents. This information could have saved consumers $356 million if they had switched to a cheaper alternative, but Boots took action to protect Synthroid’s domination of the $600 million market. The corporation prevented publication of the results in the Journal of the American Medical Association, and then announced that the research was badly flawed. The researcher was unable to counter the claim because she was legally precluded from releasing the study.

University presidents often sit on the boards of directors of major corporations, inviting conflicts of interest and developing biases that undermine academic freedom and interfere with the ability of the university to be critical or objective. While university presidents and chancellors gain from their corporate activities, industry and business are returned favors. Conversely, university boards of trustees are dominated by captains of industry, who hire chancellors and presidents with pro-industry biases. For instance, New York University’s board includes former CBS owner Laurence Tisch, Hartz Mountain chief Leonard Stern, Salomon Brothers brokerage firm founder William B. Salomon, and real estate magnate-turned-publisher Mortimer Zuckerman.

Federal tax dollars fund about $7 billion worth of research, to which corporations can buy access for a fraction of the actual cost. This is largely the result of two 1980s federal laws that allow universities to sell patent rights derived from taxpayer-funded research to corporations–encouraging “rent-a-researcher” programs. The result of these changes has been a covert transfer of resources from the public to the private sector and the changing of universities from centers of instruction to centers for corporate R&D.

Sources: Covertaction Quarterly, Spring 1997, “Phi Beta Capitalism,” by Lawrence Soley; Dollars and Sense, March/April 1997, “Big Money on Campus,” by Lawrence Soley.

4. Spy vs. Spy: Exposing the Global Surveillance System

FOR OVER 40 years, New Zealand’s largest intelligence agency, the Government Communications Security Bureau, has helped Western allies spy on countries throughout the Pacific region. Neither the public nor the majority of New Zealand’s top elected officials had knowledge of these activities, which have operated since 1948 under a secret, Cold War-era intelligence alliance among the United States, Britain, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand (the UKUSA agreement).

But in the late 1980s, in a decision it probably regrets, the United States prompted New Zealand to join a new and highly secret global intelligence system. Author Nicky Hager’s investigation into this system and his discovery of the ECHELON Dictionary have revealed one of the world’s biggest, most closely held intelligence projects–one that allows spy agencies to monitor most of the telephone, e-mail, and telex communications carried over the world’s telecommunication networks.

It potentially affects every person communicating between (and sometimes within) countries anywhere in the world.

The ECHELON system, designed and coordinated by the U.S. National Security Agency, is meant primarily to gather electronic transmissions from non-military targets: governments, organizations, businesses, and individuals in virtually every country. The system works by indiscriminately intercepting very large quantities of communications and using computers to identify and extract messages of interest from the mass of unwanted ones. Computers at each secret station in the ECHELON network automatically search millions of messages for pre-programmed keywords.

For each message containing one of those keywords, the computer automatically notes time and place of origin and interception, and gives the message a four-digit code for future reference. Computers that can automatically search through traffic for keywords have existed since at least the l970s, but the ECHELON system was designed by the NSA to interconnect all these computers and allow the stations to function as components of an integrated whole. Using the ECHELON system, an agency in one country may automatically pick up information gathered elsewhere in the system. Thus the stations of the junior UKUSA allies function for the NSA no differently than if they were overtly NSA-run bases located on their soil.

The exposure of ECHELON occurred after more than 50 people who work or have worked in intelligence and related fields–concerned that the UKUSA activities had been secret too long and were going too far–agreed to be interviewed by Hager, a longtime researcher of spying and intelligence. Materials leaked to Hager included precise information on where the spying is conducted, how the system works, the system’s capabilities and shortcomings, and other details such as code names.

The potential abuses of and few restraints around the use of ECHELON have motivated other intelligence workers to come forward. In one example, a group of “highly placed intelligence operatives” from the British Government Communications Headquarters came forward protesting what they regarded as “gross malpractice and negligence” within the establishments in which they operate, citing cases of GCHQ interception of charitable organizations such as Amnesty International and Christian Aid.

Sources: Covertaction Quarterly, Winter 1996/97, “Secret Power: Exposing the Global Surveillance System,” by Nicky Hager.

5. U.S. Companies Lead World in the Manufacture of Torture Devices

IN ITS MARCH 1997 report entitled “Recent Cases of the Use of Electroshock Weapons for Torture or Ill-Treatment,” Amnesty International lists 100 companies worldwide that produce and sell instruments of torture. Forty-two of these firms are in the United States. This places the United States as the leader in the manufacture of stun guns, stun belts, cattle probe-like devices, and other equipment that can cause devastating pain in the hands of torturers.

These weapons are in use in the United States and are being exported to countries all over the world. The U.S. government is a large purchaser of stun devices–especially stun guns, electroshock batons, and electric shields. The American Civil Liberties Union and Amnesty International both claim the devices are unsafe and may encourage sadistic acts by police officers and prison guards–both here and abroad.

“Stun belts offer enormous possibilities for abuse and the infliction of gratuitous pain,” says Jenni Gainsborough of the ACLU’s National Prison Project. She adds that because use of the belt leaves little physical evidence, there is an increased likelihood of sadistic, but hard-to-prove, misuse of these weapons. In June 1996, Amnesty International asked the Bureau of Prisons to suspend the use of the electroshock belt, citing the possibilities of physical danger to inmates and the potential for misuse.

Manufacturers of electroshock weapons continue to denounce allegations that use of their devices is dangerous and may constitute a gross violation of human rights. Instead, they are making more advanced innovations. A new stun weapon may soon be added to police arsenals–the electroshock razor wire, specially designed for surrounding demonstrators who get out of hand.

Source: The Progressive, September 1997, “Shock Value: U.S. Stun Devices Pose Human-Rights Risk,” by Anne-Marie Cusae.

6. Space Probe Debacle: Russian Plutonium Lost over Chile and Bolivia

ON NOV. 16, 1996, Russia’s Mars 96 space probe broke up and burned while descending over Chile and Bolivia, scattering its remains across a 10,000-square-mile area, despite claims that the wreckage had fallen harmlessly into the sea. The probe carried about a half pound of deadly plutonium divided into four battery canisters, and no one seems to know where they went.

Gordon Benedict, director of legislative affairs for the National Security Council, states there are two possibilities. Either the “canisters were destroyed coming through the atmosphere [and the plutonium dispersed], or the canisters survived re-entry, impacted the earth, and . . . penetrated the surface . . . or could have hit a rock and bounced off like an agate marble.”

This amount of plutonium has the potential to cause devastating damage. According to Dr. Helen Caldicott, president emeritus of Physicians for Social Responsibility, “Plutonium is so toxic that less than one millionth of a gram is a carcinogenic dose.” She warns that “one pound, if uniformly distributed, could hypothetically induce lung cancer in every person on earth.” Dr. John Gofman, professor emeritus of radiological physics at the University of California at Berkeley, confirms the increased hazard of lung cancer that would occur if the probe burned up and formed plutonium oxide particles.

On Nov. 17, 1996, when the U.S. Space Command announced the probe would re-enter the earth’s atmosphere with a predicted impact point in East Central Australia, President Clinton telephoned Australian Prime Minister John Howard and offered “the assets the United States has in the Department of Energy” to deal with any radioactive contamination. Howard placed the Australian military and government on full alert and warned the public to use “extreme caution” if they came in contact with the remnants of the Russian space probe.

In the first of a series of blunders, the day after the space probe had fallen on South America, the Space Command remained focused on Australia. Later it reported the probe had fallen in the Pacific just west of South America. A Russian news source put the site in a different patch of the Pacific altogether. Major media in the United States reported the probe as having crashed “harmlessly” into the ocean. On Nov. 18, 1996, the Washington Post ran the headline “Errant Russian Spacecraft Crashes Harmlessly After Scaring Australia.”

On Nov. 29, the U.S. Space Command completely revised its account. It changed not only where, but also when the probe fell. The final report placed the crash site not west of South America, but directly on Chile and Bolivia. The date of the crash was also revised from Nov. 17 to Nov. 16. Apparently the U.S. Space Command had initially tracked the booster stage of the Russian craft, and not the actual probe itself.

The New York Times mentioned the incident on page 7 under “World Briefs” on Dec. 14, 1996. The Russian government has been uncooperative, still refusing to give Chile a description of the canisters to aid in retrieval efforts.

Source: Covertaction Quarterly, Spring 1997, “Space Probe Explodes,” by Karl Grossman.

7. Human Tests in Third World Lead to Forced Sterilization in the United States

LOW-INCOME women in the United States and in the Third World have been the unwitting targets of a U.S policy to control birthrates. Despite continuous reports of debilitating effects of the drug Norplant, women here and in the Third World who have received the implantable contraceptive have had difficulty making their complaints heard, and in some instances have been deceived, according to several sources.

Joseph D’Agostino reported on the British Broadcasting Co. documentary “The Human Laboratory,” which accused the U.S. Agency for International Development of acting in conjunction with the Population Council of New York City to use uninformed women in Bangladesh, Haiti, and the Philippines for tests of Norplant. Many of these women were subjects in pre-injection drug trials that began in 1985 in Bangladesh, one of the world’s poorest countries. Norplant is a set of six plastic cylinders containing a synthetic version of a female hormone. It is intended to prevent pregnancy for five years. Surgery is required for removal–at a cost far beyond the reach of low-income women, whether in Bangladesh or the United States, if the removal is not subsidized.

The BBC documentary said the women stated that they had been told that the drug was safe and not experimental. Implantation was free. One woman interviewed in the documentary said that after implantation, suddenly her body became weak, and she couldn’t get up, look after her children, or cook. Other women reported similar problems, stating that when they asked to have Norplant removed, they were told it would ruin the study. The narrator of the documentary, Farida Akhter, recounted that when another woman begged to have the implant removed–saying, “I’m dying. Please help me get it out”–she was told, “OK, when you die, inform us; we’ll get it out of your body.”

Many women who were used in the trials have suffered from eyesight disorders, strokes, persistent bleeding, and other side effects.

Now Norplant devices are figuring in reproductive rights policies in the United Sates as well. Journalist Rebecca Kavoussi reports that the reproductive rights of women addicted to drugs or alcohol have once again become the focus of legislation. Senate Bill 5278, now under consideration in the state of Washington, would require “involuntary use of long-term pharmaceutical birth control” (Norplant) for women who give birth to drug-addicted babies. Under this proposal, a woman who gives birth to a drug-addicted baby would get two chances–the first voluntary, the second mandatory–to undergo drug treatment and counseling. Upon the birth of a third drug-addicted child, the state would force the mother to undergo surgery to insert the Norplant contraceptive.

Jennifer Washburn focuses on Medicaid rejection of Norplant removed in the United States. State Medicaid agencies, for example, often generously cover the cost of Norplant insertion but don’t cover removal before the full five years. Although Medicaid policy may cover early removal when determined “medically necessary,” medical necessity is determined by the provider and the Medicaid agency, not the patient.

Sources: Human Events, May 16, 1997, “BBC Documentary Claims That U.S. Foreign Aid Funded Norplant Testing on Uninformed Third World Women,” by Joseph D’Agostino; Washington Free Press, March/April 1997, “Norplant and the Dark Side of the Law,” by Rebecca Kavoussi; 7, November/December 1996, “The Misuses of Norplant: Who Gets Stuck?” by Jennifer Washburn.

8. Little-Known Federal Law Paves the Way for National I.D. Card

IN SEPTEMBER 1996, President Clinton signed the Illegal Immigration Reform and Responsibility Act of 1996. Buried on page 650 was a section that creates a framework for establishing a national ID card for the America public. This legislation was slipped through without fanfare or publicity.

This law establishes a “Machine Readable Document Pilot Program” requiring employers to wipe a prospective employee’s driver’s license through a special reader linked to the federal government’s Social Security Administration. The federal government would have the discretion to approve or disapprove the applicant for employment. In this case, the driver’s license becomes a “national ID card.” The government would have comprehensive files on all American citizens’ names, dates and places of birth, mothers’ maiden names, Social Security numbers, gender, race, driving records, child support payments, divorce status, hair and eye color, height, weight, and “anything else they may dream up in the future.”

Another part of the law provides $5 million-per-year grants to any state that wants to participate in any one of three pilot ID programs. One of these programs is the “Criminal Alien Identification Program,” which is to be used by federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies to record fingerprints of aliens previously arrested.

The author of the national ID law, Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., stated in a Capitol Hill magazine that it was her intention to see Congress immediately implement a national ID system whereby every American would be required to carry a card with a “magnetic strip on it on which the bearer’s unique voice, retina pattern, or fingerprint is digitally encoded.”

Rep. Dick Armey, R-Texas, among others, has strongly denounced the new law, calling it “an abomination, and wholly at odds with the American tradition of individual freedom.”

Source: Witwigo, May/June 1997, “National I.D. Card Is Now Federal Law and Georgia Wants to Help Lead the Way,” by Cyndee Parker.

9. Mattel Cuts U.S. Jobs to Open Sweat Shops in Other Countries

THANKS TO THE NORTH American Free Trade Agreement and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, U.S. toy factories have cut their American workforce in half and sent many of those jobs to countries where workers lack basic rights.

In the past decade Mattel, the maker of “Barbie,” bought out six major competitors, making it the largest toy manufacturer in the world. Employing 25,000 people worldwide, Mattel now employs only 6,000 workers in the United States. NAFTA has freed Mattel to further reduce its American workforce and take advantage of repressive labor laws in other countries.

In the Dynamic factory just outside of Bangkok, 4,500 women and children stuff, cut, dress, and assemble Barbie dolls and Disney properties. Many of the workers have respiratory infections, their lungs filled with dust from fabrics in the factory. They complain of hair and memory loss; constant pain in their hands, necks, and shoulders; episodes of vomiting, and irregular menstrual periods. Metha is a militant woman in her 20s who tried to start a union at the Dynamics plant. She claims the company not only fired her but threatened to shut her up “forever.” She developed respiratory problems and was hospitalized. She expresses her fear of talking to a reporter by saying, “Barbie is powerful. Three friends have already died. If they kill me, who will ever know I lived?”

Though separated by distance, these Mattel workers are intimately connected by experience, as are those of countless other abused workers in toy factories in Thailand and China, where Mattel now produces the bulk of its toys.

Under pressure, the industry adopted a code of conduct, which conveniently calls upon companies to monitor themselves. There’s little evidence, however, according to authors Anton Foek and Eyal Press, of any changes in these abusive practices.

Sources: The Nation, Dec. 30, 1996, “Barbie’s Betrayal: The Toy Industry’s Broken Workers,” by Eyal Press; The Humanist, January/
February 1997, “Sweatshop Barbie: Exploitation of Their World Labor,” by Anton Foek.

10. Army’s Plan to Burn Nerve Gas Toxins Threatens Columbia River Basin

DESPITE EVIDENCE that incineration is the worst option for destroying the nation’s obsolete chemical weapons stockpile at the Umatilla Army Depot, the Oregon Environmental Quality Commission gave the green light to the Army and Raytheon Corp. to spend $1.3 billion of taxpayer money to construct five chemical weapons incinerators.

In the face of strong protests in February 1997, the EQC made its final decision to accept the U.S. Army’s application to build a chemical weapons incineration facility near Hermiston, Ore.

Some examples of the chemicals to be incinerated are nerve gas and mustard agent; bioaccumulative organochlorines such as dioxins, furans, chloromethane, vinyl chloride, and PCBs; metals such as lead, mercury, copper, and nickel; and toxins such as arsenic. These represent only a fraction of the thousands of chemicals and metals that will potentially be emitted throughout the Columbia River watershed and from the toxic ash and effluents that pose a significant health threat via entrance to the aquifer.

Contrary to what incineration advocates claim, there is no urgent need to burn the materials, since the stockpile at Umatilla has small potential for explosion or chain reaction as a result of decay. A 1994 General Accounting Office report estimates that the actual duration for safe weapons storage is 120 years rather than the 17.7 years originally estimated by the National Research Council. Thus the time line for action could conceivably be lengthened until all the alternatives–such as chemical neutralization, molten metals, electrochemical oxidation, and solvated electron technology–are considered.

A delay is supported by a National Academy of Sciences report, entitled Review and Evaluation of Alternative Chemical Disposal Technology, which states that there has been sufficient development to warrant re-evaluation of alternative technologies for chemical-agent destruction.

Source: Earth First, March 1997, “Army Plan to Burn Surplus Nerve Gas Stockpile,” by Mark Brown and Karyn Jones.

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Military Recruiting

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Hire Power

Congressional hardball trumps SSU policy on military recruiting

By Bruce Robinson

THE BIBLICAL Solomon is revered as a wise and judicial leader, but his congressional namesake is being denounced as the opposite by some outspoken members of the campus community at Sonoma State University. Gerald Solomon, R-N.Y., is the author of the “Solomon Amendment,” a federal law stipulating that any college campus that bars military recruiters will lose all federal funds for programs and students at that campus.

“The U.S. government is forcing us to accept recruiters or lose all U.S. government aid to the school, including student aid,” objected Rick Luttman, a mathematics professor at SSU, who likens the congressional strong-arming to terrorism.

“A terrorist takes hostages–innocent third parties–and threatens them in hopes that some other party will care more about them than the terrorist does. Isn’t that the principle?” he explained. “That’s what Congress did here. It’s the institution that has the policy, but it was the students who were threatened.”

The local university has a long-standing anti-discrimination policy for businesses that come on campus to recruit potential employees. The U.S. armed services have thus been blocked from recruiting on campus, owing to their discriminatory policies regarding homosexuals. But that changed abruptly with the passage of the Solomon Amendment early last year.

The law states that “no funds” of the federal government, specifically including funds for student aid, will be disbursed to any institution of higher education that has “a policy of denying entry to campuses or access to students for purposes of military recruiting.” Schools with “a long-standing policy of pacifism based on historical religious affiliation” are exempted.

“Because the $8 million that the university receives was threatened, we felt we had no choice but to reverse our policy and allow the military to recruit here,” said Luttman. “Personally, I think that the tactics that the government has used here are deplorable.”

He’s not alone. A resolution condemning the Solomon Amendment was passed unanimously March 12 by the SSU Academic Senate. It served notice to military recruiters that “notwithstanding the legal right which they have by these unethical means obtained to secure access to Sonoma State students, they should have no illusions that they are welcome on this campus.”

The vote on the resolution was timed in anticipation of a recruiting team’s March 16 visit. Additional recruiting dates are set for April 7 and 21.

LUTTMAN’S fervent opposition to the amendment and the recruiters “really raised awareness of the situation that Sonoma’s been put in,” says Aaron Pava, president of the Associated Students of SSU and a leader of the Non-Violent Civil Disobedience Organization on campus. The latter group set up a table of their own just a few feet away from the trio of uniformed Army officers, circulating copies of the faculty resolution and anti-enlistment materials, and “basically counteracting the measures of the Solomon Act,” Pava added.

But during the lunch hour on March 16, when the grassy central area outside the student union was most populous, the biggest crowd arced around the three recruiters, who faced reactions that ranged from hostile rants to pointed debates. “We knew this was going to happen, so we brought some extra people,” admitted Staff Sgt. Ricky Snow, who said the recruiters did not get any special training for the situation.

“My job here is to get the army exposure,” Snow noted, “and I got more exposure here today than I’ve gotten in the whole year that I’ve been out here.” Snow said he had been making twice-a-month visits to the campus during the fall semester, but Luttman and others said they were unaware of those prior recruiting trips.

A FEW OF THE students who passed by were adamantly anti-military, but others showed more tolerance. One even suggested that excluding the recruiters was also a form of discrimination. “If it was just a free-speech issue, I’d agree with you,” replied sociology Professor Peter Phillips. “But this is an employment issue. They employ 2 million people, and in doing so they do not employ openly gay and lesbian people. We’re making it very clear the Faculty Senate does not welcome them here because they are a discriminatory employer. But in fact they can be here because they blackmailed all the students. You’ll be cut off on your financial aid if they can’t have this table here.”

Capt. Jessica Smith, commander of the North Bay Recruiting Company, did her best to sidestep questions about the army’s “Don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t pursue” policy. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hire gays and lesbians in the U.S. Army,” she stated. “That is my mission, to hire young men and women who are qualified for service in the army. Their sexual preference is irrelevant to me.”

When pressed, Smith conceded that anyone identifying oneself as homosexual could be accepted and enlisted only if a waiver was approved by officers “three echelons above me.” But she insisted that not all gays are automatically rejected. “My experience with homosexuals in the army is, they have not all been discharged if they came forward and said they were gay.”

Luttman, however, remained skeptical. “It’s true, technically, that you can be gay and stay in the army. It’s just that if you engage in any gay activity, you’ll be thrown out.” Despite the official policy, which Luttman charged “is erratically administered,” hundreds of gays are discharged from the military every year “despite their honorable records of service, despite their desire to continue to serve, simply because someone suspects they are gay.

“This is particularly serious for women,” he added, “because if a woman refuses sexual advances from male colleagues, the first thing that happens is she is accused of being lesbian.”

The debate is expected to intensify April 7, when the Sonoma County Peace and Justice Center plans to join in the anti-recruiting campaign.

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

River House

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River Rollin’


Michael Amsler

Watery save: In a location whose businesses have foundered in the past, Petaluma’s new River House combines the best of the Petaluma River with the best of wine country cuisine.

Petaluma’s River House flows with fine food

By Paula Harris

WHO CARES that the murky Petaluma River is actually a slough and one of the most contaminated waterways in the Bay Area, containing dense concentrations of copper, nickel, lead, and other scary metals? Like a trip to venomous Venice… if the evening air is temperate enough and there’s the reflection of the fat full moon shimmering upon the still water, all environmental concerns seem to evaporate into a romantic haze.

And so it was one recent midweek night as we headed toward the lighted Victorian mansion at the water’s edge–with out-of-town guests in tow–in anticipation of dinner at Petaluma’s River House Restaurant.

The gracious turreted building–built in 1888, and a popular fixture at the Petaluma Turning Basin–is radiant in its latest eatery incarnation.

Owners Boyd Jackman and Sharon Borne are former software developers who are bent on making their first foray into the food business a success: They have retained consultant James Soulé (former general manager of the renowned Masa’s restaurant in San Francisco) to develop the restaurant; the dining room manager is Richard Caggiano (a 15-year manager at Domaine Chandon); and chef Paul Irving (formerly the executive chef at the Coconut Grove supper club in San Francisco) rounds out the team.

Completely refurbished for its opening last December, the River House boasts a comfy, well-stocked bar, a cheery fireplace replete with rocking chairs for those blustery Petaluma evenings, and a spacious outdoor patio for those occasional warm ones.

Great riverside views from the Victorian bay windows, soft pastel walls, muted lighting, and recorded mellow jazz create a sophisticated yet relaxed ambiance. We were escorted to one of the intimate upstairs dining rooms and provided with menus and a selection of three rustic breads. Amid all of this comfortable, antique-y Americana, we were surprised that the tables were each covered with a thick, brown vinyl cloth, like that which protects card tables. The service, though a bit hesitant at the start, improved vastly as the evening wore on.

We began with soup of the day ($4.50)–a potato-leek that was ultra thick and silky but had an overly bland flavor. We would have preferred to taste more of a bite of leek amid all the creaminess.

But the black tiger prawn spring rolls with sweet chili sauce ($6.95) were a hit. Served on a rectangular plate and cut to resemble small pyramids, these were utterly dry and crisp outside, with a subtle chunky prawn and herb filling. No grease in sight here.

The crispy Dungeness crab cakes with spicy remoulade ($8.50)–two small cakes with flaked crab interior–delighted our out-of-towners, who pronounced them “marvelous” and polished them off in a trice.

Grilled green garlic with walnut-sherry vinaigrette ($4.50) is usually served as a side dish, but we selected it as a starter. This is infant garlic before it grows up and gets its pungent bite, and is, instead, like a breath of spring. The tender green garlic shoots looked like scallions with little garlic bulbs attached and were mild-tasting, sweet, and very fresh.

THE RIVER HOUSE has an extensive wine list (mainly Sonoma County offerings). There are also beers on tap and a selection of ciders. The wines are split into various listings such as “delicate whites,” and “softer-style reds.” Our choice, a concentrated, blackened-garnet-hued 1994 Foppiano Vineyards Petite Sirah Russian River ($21) from the “big, powerful reds” category lived up to its promise and stood up gamely to the hearty entrées from the River House’s winter menu that followed.

Short ribs braised with wine, carrots, and onions ($15.95) were meltingly tender and served in a big white bowl. Flecked with peas and pieces of root veggies and served with wine sauce and mashed potato, the dish crooned comfort, comfort, comfort.

Half a roast garlic chicken with pan gravy ($13.95) was crowned with a generous cache of roasted garlic cloves. The chicken was golden and tasty outside and moist within and was served with more of those smooth Yukon gold mashed potatoes.

The dry-aged New York steak with Sonoma cabernet roast shallot sauce ($21.95) was a standout. The generous slab of grilled steak, about an inch thick, was tender inside and slightly crisp on the outside, with a buttery rich flavor. Accompanying it were expert au gratin potatoes, which were dense and creamy and contained a hint of nutmeg.

The vegetarian entrée of grilled portobello mushroom with cilantro risotto and red curry broth ($14.95) was an unusual presentation, with the risotto heaped atop a huge mushroom cap that was surrounded by a spicy, creamy coconut sauce reminiscent of Thai curry.

The desserts are all made in-house by pastry chef Wallace Vazquez. The bittersweet chocolate torte with chantilly cream ($4.95) had adult appeal–definitely not sugary, but lingering and intense, with a dark pool of chocolate sauce.

Warm pear-cranberry crisp with vanilla ice cream ($4.95) was a rich and fruity delight. And the Meyer lemon tart ($4.95) was a luscious concoction. Cool and lemony with a delicate pastry base, it was served with twin splotches of fresh cream and puréed blackberry sauce.

By then, we were in a state fit to do nothing more than waddle down the stairs and out into the fresh evening air. With a final glance back at the beautiful Petaluma River gleaming softly in the darkness, we headed home.

River House Restaurant
222 Weller St., Petaluma; 769-0123
Hours: Open daily; lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.; Sunday brunch, 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.; dinner, 5:30 p.m. to 9 p.m. (10 p.m. on weekends); bar menu between lunch and dinner hours
Food: Contemporary American with occasional offshore influences
Service: Good
Ambiance: Relaxed, intimate upstairs; bistrolike downstairs; needs to lose those vinyl tablecloths
Price: Moderate to expensive; appetizers tend to be pricy
Wine list: Large selection; 90 percent Sonoma County offerings
Overall: ****(out of four stars)

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

That Championship Season

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Winning the Championship

By Daedalus Howell

EARLY THEATERGOING audiences knew that there was nothing finer than talking back to the stage–specifically in the form of boos and hisses at black-clad evildoers. Audiences will probably experience a similar compulsion with Main Street Theatre’s marvelous production of playwright Jason Miller’s That Championship Season–a Pulitzer Prize-winning indictment of irascibly bigoted, white, suburban males circa 1972. However, to their progressive chagrin, Sonoma County audiences may find that their hissing is actually laughter stifled behind clenched teeth.

An expeditious trek into the claustrophobically narrow minds of five men in a small Pennsylvania town, That Championship Season explores and condemns their sexism, racism, anti-Semitism, and ecological irresponsibility in three outrageously comic acts expertly drawn by Miller and conveyed to the stage by adroit director Scott Phillips.

Coach, a retired high school basketball drillmaster (poignantly deployed by MST artistic director Jim dePriest) is the pivotal character in a reunion comprised of former championship team members 20 years after graduation. In attendance are George Sikowski, now the incompetent town mayor on a re-election bid (a well-hewn and devilish portrayal by Tim Hayes); Tom Daley, a cheeky and irreverent alcoholic (played to the hilt by the hilarious Xavier Lavoipierre); his ambitious turncoat older brother James Daley, a junior high school principal (an impressive Gerald Haston); and strip-mining magnate Phil Romano (a casting windfall in Jonathan Kesser).

The party begins with benign backslapping and nostalgic riffs on days past, but soon degenerates into a morass of backbiting and backstabbing in equal turns as the characters get more and more intoxicated. (Coach commands, “Get him a drink!” whenever one of his flock falls down the stairs, or is afflicted by either death threats or conscience amid the gun rack, overstuffed chairs, and trophies of the set.) In tandem with Miller’s script, Phillips palpably ups the ante with each successive act, activating his players with a verve seldom seen on local stages.

But beware: the number of ethnic slurs and four-letter words in this play make Quentin Tarantino look like a blushing baby, Lenny Bruce an embryo. The expletives are necessary, however, as they are the broad strokes of Miller’s damning portrait–though sitting on tacks may be more comfortable.

DePriest’s Coach is an indefatigable crank, wholly unaware of his social impropriety and the poisonous aftereffect it has yielded in his cadre of protégés. This role, both gross and hilarious, is as challenging as they come, and dePriest’s craft, faculty, and grace as a performer prevail.

Though Lavoipierre’s younger Daley is essentially a brazen jerk-off, the actor invests him with a peculiar humanity and comic nuance that renders him likable (forgivable?) despite his idiocy. Lavoipierre’s displays consummate subtlety when his character derisively intones, “Whoop, whoop,” referring to whooping cranes, a species as threatened with extinction as is this contemptible breed of man.

Haston’s Daley, the school principal, is a skillfully devised concoction of timidity and raw enterprise; both acrid and pitiable, he displays a feat of emotional control, the perfect Judas kiss-ass to Hayes’ spiritually decrepit mayor. As the mayor sustains increasing amounts of psychological wounding, Hayes deftly shows the man’s plight with increasing layers of sadness.

Kesser’s jocose Romano is a comic highlight of the play, if not only for the actor’s ample talent, then for his ample collar (costumer Julia Hunstein Kwitchoff superbly garbs the players in fashions endemic in the ’70s). Clad in a polyester leisure suit, bragging toxically, and displaying an oily libido, Kesser gives a performance that far exceeds its visual comedy as he creates a three-dimensional personality both engaging and alarming. You will remember this man; he is your uncle.

Main Street’s That Champion Season is combustible, must-see seriocomic fare that clearly draws the boundaries, then blindly hopscotches all over them. If audiences did bite their tongues every time they laughed at an off-color gag, they would exit bloodied and necessarily speechless. Just remember you are to laugh at the characters, not with them.

That Championship Season plays Thursdays-Sundays through April 11 at Main Street Theatre. Thursdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m.; March 22 at 2 p.m., and other Sundays at 7 p.m. 104 N. Main St., Sebastopol. Tickets are $12. 823-0177.

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Riders in the Sky

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Happy Trails


Jim Hagans

Yee haw: Riders in the Sky bring their irreverent down-home wit to the LBC on Friday, March 27.

Like tumblin’ tumbleweeds, Nashville’s offbeat singing cowboys keep rollin’ along

By David Templeton

IT SOUNDS LIKE the beginning of a joke. Three guys meet in a bar, one of them an expert in wildlife management, another a brilliant writer and historian, and the last a scientist with a Ph.D. in plasma physics from MIT. Suddenly the first guy turns to the others and says, “Hey! Wouldn’t it be fun to dress up like cowboys and sing old Roy Rogers songs and yodel and stuff?”

And before they know it, 20 years have gone by, and some writer is describing their origin by saying that it sounds like the beginning of a joke.

Take it from Fred LaBour–otherwise known as Too Slim, one of the founding members of the Riders in the Sky–the only joke was the one on any shortsighted skeptics who might have suggested that this talented trio’s distinctly offbeat novelty act might never stand the test of time. On Nov. 11, on the stage of Nashville’s Grand Old Opry, the Riders–composed of Too Slim (the wildlife expert, whose earlier claim to fame was as the college journalist who started the “Paul McCartney is dead” rumor), Ranger Doug (historian Doug Green), and physicist-turned-fiddler Woody Paul (Woodrow Paul)–laughed their way through a night-long celebration marking exactly 7,300 days, dozens of albums, and over 3,000 performances since the band first got together to sing such fare as “Tumbling Tumbleweeds” and “Happy Trails.”

With a veritable parade of tributes from some of country music’s brightest lights–Garth Brooks, Kathy Mattea, and Reba McEntire–the evening was capped off with the emotional reading of letters from Gene Autry, Dale Evans, and the King of the Cowboys himself, Roy Rogers.

“That was so cool,” exclaims Too Slim, speaking by phone from the front porch of his “bunkhouse” in Tennessee. “We got on the bus the next day and Ranger Doug said, ‘Well, that was about the coolest thing that ever happened to us.’ And I totally agree. There were people there from around the country, people we’ve known throughout our career, and then those letters from Gene and Dale and Roy. It just gave us all a tremendous feeling.

“And we owe it all to sheer orneriness,” he laughs. “Choosing, in 1977, to make a living out of doing cowboy music–in the face of all reason and logic.”

The Riders, who are fond of calling themselves “the most overeducated act in the business,” will be stopping by Santa Rosa’s Luther Burbank Center next week as part of the 20th Anniversary Tour that is shaping up to be one of the team’s biggest years yet. The tour follows, more or less, the release of the group’s latest CD, Public Cowboy, No. 1: The Music of Gene Autry (Rounder), and Ranger Doug’s solo debut Songs of the Sage (Warner).

Those unfamiliar with the Riders–or who might have missed their delightfully bizarre Saturday morning network TV series a few years back when they stepped in to fill the spot vacated by Pee Wee’s Playhouse (after the star of that outlandish show, Paul Rubens, got caught with his pants down in a Florida porn theater)–should prepare themselves for a high-energy performance. Part comedy (puns and palindromes galore), part cowboy shtick–and most important, beautifully harmonized renditions of both new and classic songs, the Riders extol the many perks and pleasures of cowboy life.

Asked if all this talk about 20 years in the business makes him feel old–or just proud–Too Slim lets loose with a loud, long laugh. “I commit the sin of pride, I guess, when I think of stickin’ it out all this time,” he ultimately says. “But on the other hand, it’s such a natural thing for us to do. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.

“I have been lookin’ back at old pictures from when we started out,” he admits. “We had hair back then! It was brown and lustrous. Now we’re a little balder, a little grayer, and a little more paunched out. But the music never gets old. It’s as heartwarming and exciting as when we first heard those songs growing up.”

If he has not grown tired of playing cowboy all these years, is he at all surprised that the Riders’ respectfully tongue-in-cheek style has taken them this far?

“Well, Ranger Doug says he’s continually surprised that people will pay to see what we do,” he replies. “But I never have been. I knew from the first day we were onstage together. We laughed so hard and had so much fun that three days later I was still laughing. I called up Ranger Doug and I said, ‘America will pay to see this. I don’t know what it is we did exactly, but I know people will want to see it.'”

THOUGH THEIR PATH has so far just skirted mainstream success, Too Slim says they’ve enjoyed plenty of high points along the way: playing for the president at a White House barbecue two years ago, performing at the opening of the Olympic Village for the Atlanta games, becoming members of the Grand Old Opry, doing the TV show, and doing their ongoing Riders Radio Theater program on National Public Radio.

There’s more, too.

“We’re doing the Barney show next week,” he laughs. “No kidding. We’re all looking forward to trying out our Barney impressions on the real guy.

“I’ve said before, though,” he continues, “that the personal high point of my career was walking into a room where Roy Rogers was standing, and having him know who I was. Roy Rogers looked up and said, ‘Hey! It’s Too Slim.’ I lit right up and haven’t dimmed down yet.

“I mean to tell you, you can’t beat that,” he audibly beams. “Getting to meet your heroes, gettin’ to work with them sometimes. No doubt about it, our dreams just keep on comin’ true.”

And that’s no joke.

The Riders in the Sky perform on Friday, March 27, at 7:30 p.m. at the Luther Burbank Center, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. Tickets are $10-$17.50. 546-3600.

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Talking Pictures

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Big Good Woolf



‘Mrs. Dalloway’ comes as close to the novel as modernly possible

By David Templeton

In his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation, David Templeton invites English professor and Virginia Woolf scholar J. J. Wilson to see the charming new screen adaptation of Woolf’s stream-of-consciousness novel Mrs. Dalloway.

ON THE INSIDE of the box office window, pasted below the list of times and prices, is a small sign describing the various films that are playing at the theater this evening.

“Look at this,” I say to my guest J. J. Wilson, pointing to the short description of Mrs. Dalloway, the film we are here to see: “Romantic drama–based on the famous novel by Virginia Wolff.”

“How awful!” exclaims Wilson, noting the misspelling of Woolf’s name. “It’s shameful.” She turns to the ticket taker. “I don’t think you deserve any of our money,” she announces, flamboyantly piqued and half-serious.

“Um, I didn’t write it,” he stammers. “But I’ll take it down.”

Satisfied, we pay and make our way to our seats.

“How embarrassing for the theater,” Wilson smiles and whispers, her amazement having given way to obvious amusement, “to not know how to spell Virginia Woolf!” Indeed.

This, it so happens, is Wilson’s second viewing of Mrs. Dalloway, which stars Vanessa Redgrave as the eponymous upper-class heroine preparing to give a grand party, and Rupert Everett as Septimus, the tortured, suicidal World War I veteran whose path crosses that of the poised–but similarly distraught–Clarissa Dalloway. Wilson’s first peek at the film was a test screening held last summer at the annual gathering of the International Virginia Woolf Society–the organization of literary scholars and enthusiasts that Wilson helped found over 20 years ago, and for which she has served three terms as president.

Since 1973 she has edited and published The Virginia Woolf Miscellany, a tri-annual newsletter devoted to all things Woolf. Once convinced she was the only living aficionado of Virginia Woolf’s modernist, stream-of-consciousness writings, Wilson–who teaches literature at Sonoma State University–is now revered as a leading voice among 500 or so Woolf experts in 18 different countries around the world.

“I’m very interested to see if the flickers have changed anything since we saw it last summer,” she reveals as we wait for the movie to begin. “As I recall, there was much discussion the next day, and the general feeling was that the ending wasn’t quite right. Then again, modernist endings are always a problem for Hollywood, because they never end happily ever after. That particular script went out with the Victorian optimism.”

Throughout the film, Wilson glances occasionally around the darkened theater, attempting to read the reactions of the audience; afterwards, she quizzes me on my own responses to various plot points, coaxing and cajoling, explaining and expounding–ever the canny educator.

THEY DID ALTER a few things,” she says later, over coffee. “Primarily, they made the ending more hopeful, more dramatic.” She sighs, going on to explain that the film is based not only on the novel, but also on several of Woolf’s early short stories.

“The first short story was called ‘Mrs. Dalloway and the Prime Minister,'” Wilson explains. “It’s all about her party–and it seems, from other evidence, that Virginia Woolf was going to have Mrs. Dalloway commit suicide at the end of her party. In fact, Virginia had had a very bad breakdown herself–had heard the birds in the park speaking Greek to her.

“Does that ring a bell?” she tests me.

“Um, Septimus?” I reply. “He said he could hear the birds speaking Greek.”

“Very good. Of course, when Woolf was writing this, she had already tried to commit suicide,” Wilson continues. “She’d taken a hell of a lot of pills and came very close to doing it. And once previous to that, she’d thrown herself out of the window. It doesn’t seem to have been a very sincere attempt; it wasn’t a very high window. The next try–with the pills–was more serious. When she came to write this book, she had to invent Septimus to take on the suicidal nature she’d intended for Mrs. Dalloway. He was a shell-shocked soldier, with a sociological reason to commit suicide. Because, of course, there was no way of explaining at that time why a woman who had everything would ever think of throwing it away.

“She said in her diaries, ‘My brain feels like it’s burning in flames,’ when she finished the Septimus parts. Had she not invented that character, I’m sure the book would never have been written. It would have remained an embryo trapped in those few short stories.”

Woolf, of course, eventually did commit suicide in 1941, at the age of 59.

“Virginia Woolf, by the way, wrote several drafts of her suicide note, a writer to the end,” Wilson says. “[Her husband, publisher Leonard Woolf,] thought she’d tried to drown herself the day before she actually succeeded, because she’d come in wet from a walk. The next day she did go out walking again, put rocks in her pockets, and drowned herself in a miserable little irrigation ditch they called a river.

“But meanwhile, she’d done more work than most of us could do if we lived to be 100.

“I must tell you,” she continues, “that I don’t spend much time in my classes on Woolf’s suicide. For a while I never taught Mrs. Dalloway, because, aside from carping about it as a novel about the upper classes–and who gives a shit–they would think of it as a book about Woolf’s suicide, and would talk about nothing else.

“The amazing thing is how well the damn novels hold up after all these years,” Wilson concludes. “Aside from all the drama of her life, Virginia was one superb writer.”

Playfully scowling in the direction of the theater, she adds, “Yet some people can’t even spell her name. It’s just shocking!”

From the March 19-25, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Guinness

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Slaínte!

Michael Amsler


Toasting the perfect pint:
Is Guinness God in America?

By Gretchen Giles

THIS IS A TERRIBLE Irish joke, but the Irish tell it with a kind of terrible pride: An Irishman, when given three wishes, asks first for a never-ending pint of Guinness; asks second for a never-ending pint of Guinness; and makes his third and final wish for a never-ending pint of Guinness. Without thinking to regret the wasted opportunities of the first two wishes, he lives on in a remote happy haze of never-ending pints.

Alicia Shiel can probably understand this. At least, Shiel could if the wisher were supping from what the Guinness corporation terms “the perfect pint.” Because for Shiel, a product controller for Guinness, the mother’s-milk quality of this national brew has been a part of her life ever since she was a little girl growing up in Dublin.

“You never share a glass of beer,” avers Shiel, standing in Sonoma’s Murphy’s Irish Pub, where she arrived to test proprietor Larry Murphy’s dispensing system in preparation for last month’s Guinness-sponsored bid to break the world’s record for the most people toasting at one time. Guinness paid for notaries to be posted at pubs throughout the world for this Feb. 27 event. Last year, some 50,304 people raised glasses of the black stuff and shouted “Slaínte!” in unison. The numbers for this year have not yet been finally tabulated.

“People are very fussy about their beer,” Shiel continues serenely, “and kids at home will dip their fingers into the foam at the top of the glass–my father used to kill me about that one. And it is like, ‘Don’t touch–get your hands off my pint.'”

Created in 1759 at St. James Gate, Dublin, by Sir Alfred Guinness, this beer came to America with the first wave of immigrants channeling through Ellis Island. “They couldn’t live without [Guinness],” states Shiel. “The Irish immigrants came out and brought the stuff with them and their families. Or,” she laughs, “brought the Guinness with them and then sent the money home to their families.”

Creamy, frothy, black, and with a corporeal heaviness that dictates pouring the stuff in two parts and letting it settle like an exotic coffee, Guinness is actually a light beer, according to Shiel. Light in calories and in texture (its easy touch on carbonation makes quaffing Budweiser seem like drinking a steak), it is also the perfect accompaniment to cakes, cookies, tarts, pies, trifles: desserts. “It’s excellent with desserts,” Shiel says sweetly, “and seafood. Oysters and Guinness. You can drink it with anything.”

Cereal?

“If you like,” she grimaces.

But all is not rosy. We have brought along a shill, an Irishman named O’Keeffe who contends that no matter how strictly American barkeeps attend to the particulars–carbon dioxide, temperature (the perfect pint pours out at between 39 and 45 degrees Fahrenheit), glass shape and height (tulip-shaped and 20 ounces), and freshness–the Guinness here just doesn’t taste the same as at home. “It doesn’t travel,” he avers. “It doesn’t even travel to the Arans [Western Ireland islands].”

“I hear this all day long,” Shiel sighs good-naturedly. “And all I can say is that if you take a can of Coke today and put it in your back pocket and get on a plane and go to Ireland, and open that can in Shannon airport–it’s the exact same can of Coke.”

“It tastes more like Murphy’s,” O’Keeffe returns with an evil grin, referring to another brand of Irish beer. “And you don’t want to hear that.”

“I disagree,” Shiel says flatly, “and it’s not just because of my job. Honestly.”

Larry Murphy explains that Guinness is his No. 1 seller and that his pub may be the biggest seller of Guinness in the county, ensuring that his brew is fresh. Shiel passes him on his inspection with a whispered reminder that his glasses aren’t all regulation size. And then she turns back with a smile.

“The Irish,” she says, “are very proud of their Guinness.”

O’Keeffe raises his glass. “Actually,” he says in a low voice. “This is pretty good.”

From the March 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

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