Talking Pictures

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Record Breaker


Peter C. Cook

Goo goo gaga: Robin Williams absents his mind from ‘Flubber.’

Just how many fart jokes does it take to make ‘Flubber’ a winner?

By David Templeton

David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This time around, he phones up Mark Young–editor of The Guinness Book of World Records–for a bouncy discussion of the slapstick comedy Flubber.

MARK YOUNG has a cold, which leads him to mention that the world record for consecutive sneezes is held by Donna Griffiths of Pershore, England, near the place where the British-born Young grew up.

He explains this almost immediately after answering the phone at the Connecticut offices of the Guinness Book of World Records, of which he is publisher, editor, and CEO. “She sneezed for well over two years,” he informs me. “Something like that. Quite a long time.”

Nine hundred and seventy-eight days, to be exact. That’s according to the gleaming new 1998 edition of Guinness’ fanciful record-breaking tome (Guinness Publishing; $24.95), in which the exhausted Griffiths is said to have logged more than a million sneezes in the first year of her epic nasal snit-fit–establishing a record that has been unbeaten for 15 years.

And 15 years is about how long it felt to sit through a recent screening of Flubber, Disney’s dreadful, mean-spirited remake of The Absentminded Professor. The new film stars Robin Williams as the brilliant but forgetful inventor of flubber, a weird, bouncy glob of gunk that is possessed with unstoppable energy; the eponymous substance causes cars to fly and allows basketball players to leap from one end of the court to other.

Flubber can even be ingested and expelled, flatulently, as is demonstrated by a snarly bad guy in what is surely the most outrageous fart joke in the history of cinema.

The goo is violent, too. Applied to a bowling ball, the go-getting glob bounces thousands of feet in the air, never losing momentum even after crashing (repeatedly) onto the skulls of weapon-wielding thugs.

Thump!

“I sat there thinking, ‘You gotta be kidding me,'” says Young (who might qualify for his own book as the “only living Englishman who has never seen either the TV series or the movie of Bean,” a similarly low-brow brand of slapstickish mayhem). “I mean, I like slapstick,” he insists. “It’s a very English kind of thing. But a guy being hit with a bowling ball from 20,000 feet … The first time I suppose you could say it was cute, but five times?”

“What is the record for most times being hit by a bowling ball?” I wonder.

“If it exists,” Young shoots back amiably, “I don’t want to know about it.”

Now that we’re on the subject, the movie Flubber–were it a documentary of a serious scientific discovery–could be seen as a veritable parade of world records being broken one after another: the bowling ball, certainly; the first flying car; the longest jump through a basketball hoop.

And the flimsiest excuse for missing your own wedding.

“Right,” Young laughs. “What did WIlliams say? ‘I’m only absent-minded because I love you so much.’ That’s why he missed his wedding three times. Tell you what, I’m gonna try that one on my wife, you try it on yours, and let’s see what happens. That’s when the bowling ball will come into play for us, no doubt,” he adds.

“Flubber itself, the invention, would qualify for Guinness, wouldn’t it?” I ask.

“Oh yeah,” he affirms. “We certainly have lots of entries for science; the lowest coefficient of friction, the smelliest substance, and all this kind of business. That is an area where we find more and more interesting things. In fact, somebody–we just found out recently–has made the world’s smallest guitar out of subatomic particles. It’s a nanometer long or something.

“Wait a minute,” he interrupts himself. “I want to go get a copy of the book. I gave mine to Kenny G this morning.” The famous soft jazz saxophonist had met with Young and other Guinness officials to establish the world record for the longest sustained note on a musical instrument. His record: over 45 minutes.

“Here it is,” Young says on returning. “Page 181. ‘Harold Craighead and Dustin Carr of Cornell University sculpted the “nanoguitar” out of a single crystal of silicon. The guitar measures 10 micrometers long, about the size of a human blood cell.’ These guys must have had nothing to do that day.”

“Back to the bowling ball,” I say, “is there anything about ‘most bounces by a 10-pound ball’ or anything?”

“There are plenty of pogo-stick records, that’s for sure,” he replies. “We used to have the largest rubber-band ball, but I don’t think we have that anymore.” He admits that a flubberized bowling ball would easily rate a mention in the book.

“Though I’m not sure I’d put it in,” he sighs. “I just personally disliked that whole scene so much that maybe I would just use my line-item veto and just say no.

“I don’t know how principled a character I am,” he continues, “but that scene did bug me. Today, we’re bombarded with so much violence that we’re not quite sure what the line is anymore. God, I’m sounding so preachy here, but in Flubber there was a real crudity to all the head whacking. There was no style to it.”

“Oh, come on,” I insist. “There was style to that flubberized fart scene.”

“We’ve never seen anything like that before, have we?” he chuckles. “You’re right about that.”

“Does that mean it qualifies for the book?” I wonder.

“Hmmm,” Young ponders. “I suppose we’ll just use the line-item veto on that one as well, don’t you think?”

From the Dec. 11-17, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

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Latin Beat


Cuba is Smokin’: All roads lead to the Caribbean hot spot.

Hot sounds from Havana

Buena Vista Social Club
Buena Vista Social Club
(World Circuit/Nonesuch)

Papi Oviedo
Encuentro entre Soneros
(Candela/Tinder)

THOSE LUSH LATIN SOUNDS continue to inform pop music–witness the south-of-the-border charm of Paul Simon’s new Songs from the Capeman (Warner Bros.), the score to Simon’s acclaimed Broadway musical and the folk-rocker’s first new release in seven years. But don’t miss the opportunity to go directly to the source, especially since Latin music has never been more accessible.

Case in point: Ry Cooder’s stunning Buena Vista Social Club, one of a marvelous series of recent Cuban music discs from the folks at World Circuit/Nonesuch. While most recordings of Cuban musicians have filtered through Mexico in recent years, the U.S. economic sanctions against that Communist Caribbean country actually do not cover musical recordings. And the increasing stateside interest in musicians from the isolated island nation has led the Castro government to invest in a state-of-the-art studio, making it easier to produce high-quality recordings on-site. Guitarist Ry Cooder has taken full advantage of that situation, rounding up many of the country’s finest players, including 77-year-old pianist Ruben Gonzalez, one of Cuba’s national treasures. The result is refreshing and sensuous. “In Cuba, the music flows a river,” Cooder comments in the liner notes. “It takes care of you and rebuilds you from the inside out.” He has created a remarkably warm ensemble that evokes the simple pleasures of hot summer nights whiled away with friends at, well, a social club. Think slow ballads laced with plaintive guitars, trilling trumpets, and lilting rhythms.

On the local front, Rohnert Park-based Tinder Records has launched its Latin Candela subsidiary with a series of some sizzling salsa and an absolute gem from Papi Oviedo y sus Soneros. It features the renowned Cuban musician Papi Oviedo on tres guitar, a contagious acoustic Latin instrument that employs three pairs of specially tuned strings plucked with a plectrum of tortoise shell. Combining traditional Cuban songs with a bluesy sensibility and gyspy guitar riffs, Oviedo’s music is charged with energy and brimming with vitality.
GREG CAHILL

The Aquamen
Do Thee Alkeehol! [and Other Hits]
(Aquatone)

NOT THE AQUA VELVETS, not the Aquabats, it’s the Aquamen. The San Francisco band fell off the wagon of traditional surf music long ago, staggering around the stage in suits, striking metal poses, yowling in staccato outbursts. The band’s unique blend of spastic surf “intoxica” channels the spirits of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, Man (or Astroman)?, and Dean Martin in a boozy séance. Main topics of choice: sucking ’em up (“Gin and Tonic,” “Jose Cuervo,” “Wild Turkey”), dancing up a storm (the explosive “Do Thee Alkeehol”), and some non-alcoholic selections (“Cuz Yo a Woman,” “Beans and Rice,” “Panty Raid”). The fellas claim to have tossed back more than a few while they recorded the album, and the result can be heard in a smattering of overeager timing mistakes. But so what? The Aquamen bring out the “happy drunk” in all of us.
TODD S. INOUE

Rop Style
You’re Gonna Dig This
(Self-released)

THE LATEST TAPE of turntable trickery from Pee Chees/Lefties bassist Rop Vasquez is a distinctly lo-fi affair. Rop cuts up a menagerie of samples on a shorted-out tape deck that allows him to flip left and right channels with a flick of a switch. Rop’s basement tapes are flavorful and DIY. Even better, he has an upcoming tape devoted to scratching indie-rock .
T.S.I.

Sherri Jackson
Sherri Jackson
(Hybrid)

SINGER AND STRING instrumentalist Sherri Jackson is like Alanis Morissette injected with melanin–well, not exactly, but on Sherri Jackson, the neo-folkie’s breathy vocals do recall the Canadian’s throaty style. Jackson’s lyrics, however, are a little more literate. “Ain’t That Good” reads like a finely wrought novel, evoking post-Irangate paranoia. Indeed, Jackson’s debut defies hoary stereotypes. Like soulmates Joan Armatrading and Tracy Chapman, she sounds more like a sister raised in Bel Air than in the Bronx–good diction, as Malcolm X would put it.
NICKY BAXTER

From the Dec. 11-17, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Medical Marijuana

Medical Marijuana

By Greg Cahill

WITH LITTLE FANFARE, the Marin County Board of Supervisors last week approved a plan to issue certificates to help patients verify that they are authorized to cultivate, possess, and use medical marijuana.

Starting next month, Marin’s Department of Health and Human Services will provide a Certificate of Independent Verification for $25 to any county resident who brings a note from an approved physician confirming that marijuana has been prescribed for use under the State Health Code.

The innovative program, which will be administered by Marin County Health Director Thomas Peters, is designed to protect the medical records of patients and prevent legitimate medical marijuana users from being forced into the criminal-justice system as they are under the newly adopted Sonoma County guidelines. It is modeled after a certificate program first developed in Arcata in Humboldt County. A similar program is set to go into effect next month in Santa Clara County.

“Officers will still have to use their best judgement in some cases,” Mike Gridley, Marin’s chief assistant district attorney, told the Marin Independent Journal, adding that the program should provide a quick and easy way for law enforcement officers to determine if a person legally possesses pot. “I would suspect that if a person is growing 500 plants, a certificate is not going to convince the police that the marijuana is for that person’s use.”

The certificate program has the blessing of state Attorney General Dan Lungren, a staunch opponent of Prop. 215, since the program doesn’t sanction a Cannibas Buyers’ Club. Lungren still objects to the legal distribution of the weed through private clubs.

From the Dec. 11-17, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Rage Against the Machine

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Smells Like Gun Grease


Rage On: You don’t have to agree with their radical politics to appreciate the raw power of Rage Against the Machine.

Rage Against the Machine keeps ’em honest

By Sal Hepatica

DROP DA BOMB! It’s only fitting that the year started with a big musical bomb–U2’s disappointing and much overhyped POP! album–and ended with the explosive eponymous video release by Rage Against the Machine, the L.A.-based metal band that not only has inherited U2’s vaunted crown as rock’s reigning political force, but also upstaged their Irish counterparts as an opening band at this year’s otherwise disastrous POPMart tour.

Fueled by dreadlocked singer Zack de la Rocha’s angry lyrics–including such screeching, expletive-driven tirades against the ills of American society as “Killing in the Name” (with its anthemic refrain “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me”) and “Bullet in the Head”–and Tom Morello’s buzz-saw guitar, the Grammy-winning RATM is an alternative media forum bristling with rebellious political polemic and supported by CD sales, concerts, and its own Propaganda Network web site.

These aren’t angst-ridden, suburban youths whining that they’re misunderstood. These are fiercely angry young men who align themselves with the Zapatista rebels in rural Mexico and demand the release of jailed American Indian Movement leader Leonard Peltier and death-row inmate Mumia Abu Jamal.

And they have credentials. During the ’50s, Morello’s father fought British colonialism in the bloody Mau Mau uprising in Kenya, his uncle Jomo Kenyatta was the first elected president in that East African nation, and his mother was a driving force behind Parents for Rock and Rap, an organization that has fought censorship in the music business.

At a time when music biz execs are crying in their expense account receipts about sagging record sales–as if anyone with half a brain is perplexed that the cookie-cutter alt-rock flooding the stores fails to excite–RATM has shown that the major labels can stand by their guns and sign bands with the power of their convictions.

RATM has that in spades. Sure, there are those detractors, and the Web is filthy with their chat, who find contradictory that a metal band–capable of crossing over to both white rock and black rap audiences, and signed to a corporate label–can rail against the machine, what the band itself defines as “the overall corporate capitalist bureaucracy that we are trained to obey from birth.”

RATM admits that some alliance with the corporate world is necessary to connect with the widest possible audience. Still, the band has not diluted its message. That’s good news for those who complain that modern rock is more often defined by style and fashion–from the flannel-clad grunge of Pearl Jam to the spiky-haired retro posturing of Green Day–than the aggressive assault on the status quo that has marked the best rock, from Chuck Berry to the Sex Pistols.

RATM–the band–has distilled anarchic defiance into a potent brew that shakes comfortable conventions and rattles nerves. Rage Against the Machine–the newly released 70-minute video from Epic Music Video–captures the band in all its ragged glory. RATM grinds its way through 15 segments that feature mostly live concert footage shot over the past four years, including the 1994 Pink Pop Festival in which a silver-haired grandmother introduces RATM as “the best band in the fucking universe!” The video comes with a CD single of the band covering “The Ghost of Tom Joad,” Bruce Springsteen’s post-folkie tribute to John Steinbeck’s Depression-era homage The Grapes of Wrath.

A half dozen “uncensored” video clips–liberally sprinkled with the F-word–juxtapose studio shots, subliminal messages, and staged scenes depicting the Mexican revolution and the 1973 FBI firefight at Pine Ridge that led to Peltier’s arrest.

All this rage has made RATM a target of the establishment the band fights in song. In September, a local sheriff in Washington state went to court in an attempt to block the band from performing at an amphitheater in George, Wash. In his complaint, the sheriff called the group “militant, radical, and anti-establishment” and alleged that RATM’s songs sport “violent and anti-law enforcement” themes. The show went on anyway, with a beefed-up security force busting 90 fans for a variety of minor drug- and alcohol-related charges.

In the end, despite the attempt at censorship, de la Rocha got the last word. He kicked off the show with a blistering rendition of NWA’s incendiary “Fuck Tha Police.” Citing civil-rights groups that estimate 80,000 cases of police brutality each year, de la Rocha later charged: “There ain’t nothing more frightening than [a cop] with political aspirations. We take it as an insult that he calls us violent, because everybody knows the police are out of control.”

From the Dec. 11-17, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

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Two to Tango

New CDs celebrate mystery of the tango

By Greg Cahill

Yo Yo Ma
Soul of the Tango: The Music of Astor Piazzolla
Sony Classical

Various Artists
The Tango Lesson
Sony Classical

IT’S MILONGA TIME. From the bars of Buenos Aires to the concert halls of America, audiences throughout this century have embraced the tango. Actually, the roots of the tango–burning with Latin passion and driven by swirling, erotic rhythms–reach back to the music of African slaves and black Cubans who brought their indigenous sound to Buenos Aires, where it mixed with the European polka and the mazurka to form the basis for this romantic dance music.

In the 1920s, the late Argentinean bandoneon master Astor Piazzolla transformed the tango, blending jazz and symphonic influences to create complex instrumentals pulsating with danger and raw intensity. For his trouble, he was exiled from his native land–the Argentineans frown upon those who dare mess with this national institution, though the tango later got more than its share of rockification in the ’60s and ’70s.

America’s love affair with the tango in recent years has coincided with Argentina’s own search for the true tango sound.

On Soul of the Tango, classical cellist Yo Yo Ma pays tribute to Piazzolla and turns the tables, so to speak, by fleshing out the classical elements while focusing on the more lyrical, serene side of his brilliant songs. While Ma’s inspired covers lack the dramatic and often dissonant throb that characterized Piazzolla’s most ambitious works (including several that drew their inspiration from the steely stiletto bravura of the mean streets of Buenos Aires), he lovingly caresses Piazzolla’s beautiful melodies and retains the sense of adventure that permeated so many of the late master’s compositions.

Ma also contributes an energized rendering of Piazzolla’s classic “Libertango” to the soundtrack of The Tango Lesson, the latest film from director Sally Potter (Orlando). The movie tells the story of an ambitious female filmmaker who places herself under the tutelage of an Argentinean tango dancer. Potter calls it “a distillation of my own experiences … perilously on the knife edge between reality and fiction.”

The 20 tracks–interspersed by haunting instrumental interludes composed by Potter–are mostly original recordings selected by some of the masters of tango composition and arrangement, and played by some of Argentina’s greatest musicians and bandleaders. The collection is a richly rewarding overview of the best that tango has to offer. Highly recommended.

Joe Henderson
Porgy & Bess
Verve

IN SEARCH OF another tribute to match his acclaimed homages to Miles Davis and Antonio Carlos Jobim, jazz tenor great Joe Henderson perused the George Gershwin songbook and set his sights on the classic Broadway hit Porgy & Bess, which gets a big post-bop blast from the sax legend. The result is pure joy, though I have to wonder about the decision to include Sting’s tepid vocal on “It Ain’t Necessarily So” (Chaka Khan’s sultry reading of “Summertime,” on the other hand, is a pleasant surprise). Sterling solos and able accompaniment by guitarist John Scofield, trombonist Conrad Herwig, pianist Tommy Flanagan, and vibist Stefon Harris, make this a sure bet for jazz fans looking for stocking stuffers.

Old & in the Way
Breakdown: Original Live Recordings, 1973, Vol. II
Acoustic Disc

EVERYONE WHO ever fell under the spell of Panama Red knows that it just doesn’t get any better than Old & in the Way–the short-lived but legendary bluegrass gathering of Jerry Garcia, David Grisman, Peter Rowan, Vassar Clements, and John Kahn. This is the second volume of outtakes released by Grisman’s San Rafael-based label from the 1973 Boarding House in San Francisco sessions that spawned that one-off album. As the title suggests, it’s a chance to hear these talented players stretch out on their instruments while basking in the glow of their high and lonesome vocals. Kick back on the back porch of your mind with this treasure–an absolute must for lovers of American music.

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Godspell

God Fearin’


Day by Day: Lois Pearlman and Ross Foti appear in River Rep’s ‘Godspell.’

River Rep’s ‘Godspell’ is gawdawful

By Daedalus Howell

IN AN EFFORT to remind practitioners of Christmas that the holiday wasn’t invented by Hallmark, River Repertory Theater (under the direction of Lee Meryl Senior) has dusted off Godspell–rock-‘n’-roll evangelists’ John-Michael Tebelak and Stephen Schwartz’s flower-child, musical riff on the Gospel According to St. Matthew.

Unlike its predecessor, Jesus Christ Superstar (the gospel according to Andrew Lloyd Webber), Godspell recontextualizes the story of Christ into 1960s counterculture. Director Senior, however, takes it further by presenting Tebelak and Schwartz’s merry pranksters as a seriocomic pack of homeless persons kvetching and revering their God’s word in the present.

Though devised as an ensemble piece, Godspell‘s story is predicated largely upon the relationship realized between Christ and that ne’er-do-well disciple Judas (Ross Foti and Morgan Spector, respectively). Other apostles embark on various roles–generally dramatizing parables narrated by Foti or executing musical numbers with varying degrees of ability.

Saviors as a rule are commonly depicted as demure, well-mannered, and pedantic–and Foti minds these rules. He gushes didactic, patronizing rhetoric with the pantywaist, goody-two-shoes fervor of a Girl Scout hocking cookies for a good cause. Surely, playing Jesus is a perilous endeavor, and one is moved to absolve Foti’s performance on this score–10 Hail Marys after each show should do it.

Likewise, Spector’s Judas is an indigent milksop so addled by his guilt for betraying this Girl Scout that his character’s motivation is lost in a ruthless deployment of adulatory expressions and gnashing grimaces.

Not all is lost, however, as Foti and Spector are superb in the comic soft-shoe duet “All for the Best,” a feast of stagey one-up-manship deftly choreographed by Cabernet Lazarus. The scene is magical despite Spector’s tenor often being smothered by Foti’s baritone.

The Godspell cast meet the challenge of the tunes and concede defeat without a hint of acrimony. Notes go flat–but zealously. Harmonies diverge toward dissonance–but with real spirit.

Senior and Andrea Van Dyke’s costumes defy the director’s vision of a homeless cast. The players’ motley apparel, culled from the recesses of west county closets, are bright, convivial, and utilitarian (kneepads?). Spector’s sleeveless, tailed tuxedo jacket, muscle shirt, and fingerless gloves are more evocative of an early ’80s break-dancer than a chap down on his luck. Foti may as well be Supermime, in his white-face, suspenders, and a black shirt emblazoned with the Man of Steel’s iconic logo.

Suffice it to say, the players do not look homeless–they look clueless: the stage teems with leg warmers.

Senior’s set offers a sparse impression of urban degradation replete with cyclone fence skirting the upstage and sawhorses and planks that can be arranged into benches, altars, and slides. With the addition of a couple of painted wooden cubes and glistening new garbage cans, the set is more reminiscent of a dispossessed school playground than a homeless encampment.

River Rep’s Godspell deserves merit if only for its earnestness, sincerity, and heartfelt ardor, but the show, alas, is severely flawed. It’s a God-eat-God world.

Godspell plays Dec. 5-7 and 11-13. Jenner Playhouse, 10432 Hwy. 1, Jenner. Friday-Saturday at 8 p.m.; Sunday at 2 p.m. Tickets are $8-$10. 865-1858.

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Sonoma County Gifts

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Made in Sonoma


Michael Amsler

Santa’s Helper: Petaluma toymaker Gerry Kyne works wonders with wood.

Our annual guide to thinking globally and shopping locally

Edited by Gretchen Giles

THERE’S MALL-TROLLING, catalog-shopping, flea-marketing, garage-saling, and outlet-hopping. There are the 50 wooden pallets laden down behind the megastore with 500 cases of exactly the same zap gun/video game/sweater dress/hostess tray/golf-lover’s-gift-for-dad. There are lines of impatient people digging the hard ends of credit cards into one another’s shoulders at the checkout, and, finally, by month’s end–there is that unwrapped heap of goods that bears a sharp resemblance to every other unwrapped heap of goods in America.

But there is a way to stop the merchandise madness. Think globally, and shop locally: Purchase original objects of gorgeousness, extravagance, thoughtfulness, utility, and one-of-a-kind-ness made by craftspeople and artisans who are based right here in Sonoma County.

With that local angle honing our seasonal search, we offer below our slice-of guide to some of the possibilities of purchasing items made in Sonoma (County); it would be impossible to catalog them all. Shopping scribes contributing to this article are Dylan Bennett, Gretchen Giles, Paula Harris, Daedalus Howell, Bruce Robinson, David Templeton, and Marina Wolf.

Sound Check

An innovator of musical instruments, Darryl DeVore offers a bevy of alternative melodic devices handcrafted in his rural Petaluma workshop-studio. (Experimental music enthusiasts remember his inclusion in Bart Hopkins’ book and CD homage Gravikords, Whirlies and Pyrophones.)

“I bring these musical instruments to life, so each one is engendered with an individual voice that speaks,” explains DeVore. “There is no mass production, each one is a one-of-a-kind and made on the premises.”

Wind Wands, DeVore’s invention, produce the buzzy bass of a light saber when sliced through the air or twirled. Constructed of sturdy wooden dowels, hand-carved adjustable bamboo bridge, and thick rubber-bands, Wind Wands can be had for $10 each.

Capture the holiday spirit with DeVore’s Spirit Catchers, an advanced form of Wind Wand swirled from a string, with pitch variance achieved through speed, creating a drone like a didgeridoo but without the player’s need to master circular breathing. Produced in a limited edition, Spirit Catchers can be caught for $15 apiece.

For the neo-primitive flautist, DeVore offers handmade reed-cane flutes for a song ($5), as well as “in-blown” and transverse bamboo flutes from $10 to $50.

Bootoos are tunable bamboo stamping tubes (hifalutin, musicologists identify them as “percussion aerophones”) fashioned from finger-holed bamboo and waxed nylon-thread bands with “rasping strips” scored on their sides. They produce an affably colored pop when stuck on dense surfaces such as concrete, trees, or knees. Sold in pairs, they range from $10 to $20 depending on size.

DeVore also produces wooden-bowl hand-drums in a variety of sizes. Drums are made of goatskin heads encircled by vividly gradated woven Guatemalan bands, and range from $15 to $75 each.

“These materials speak to me,” he says. “I have a dialogue with the future voice of the instrument.”–D.H.
Sing along. Contact Darryl DeVore at 778-0729.


Michael Amsler

Rabbit Droppings: Trust a bunny to have come up with an aphrodisiac.

Bunny Love

Why, it’s almost a fact: Fourteen out of every 10 people love chocolate. It’s the ultimate anti-depressant, a guaranteed aphrodisiac, a dark addiction, an earthly ambrosia.

“On a dark and rainy night, chocolate makes you feel really good,” rhapsodizes Mark Lardner, the perky manager of Peter Rabbit’s Chocolate Factory (who sounds as if he’s been on a rampant quality-assurance binge at the assembly line). “Just yourself and a truffle is an evening for two! It’s part of the holiday feeling of indulgence,” he chortles.

Family-owned and locally operated for over a decade in Sonoma County, Peter Rabbit specializes in handmade chocolates, crafted the old-fashioned way with no preservatives, just local products like Clover-Stornetta butter and Lake County walnuts. This year’s most popular gifts include truffles in mouthwatering flavors like raspberry, Irish cream, and double dark amaretto; and gingerbread-house kits featuring gingerbread from Santa Rosa’s Lotus Bakery. These baked homes are ready to assemble and then to decorate with bags of Peter Rabbit candies, bien sûr.

Gift prices vary. An elaborate wicker-sleigh gift basket crammed with goodies costs $300, while a piece of licorice for a stocking stuffer will set you back a nickel.
–P.H.
Peter Rabbit’s Chocolate Factory, 2489 Guerneville Road, Santa Rosa. 575-7110. Peter’s goodies are also available in Blue Abbey Antiques and Ace Hardware in Santa Rosa, Kozlowski Farms in Forestville, Green Valley Farm in Sebastopol, and even at the UPS station at Santa Rosa Packaging!

Wood He Could

There’s no way around it: Plastic toys–even really cool plastic toys–just don’t clank and clunk together with the same satisfying musicality as toys made of wood. Give me the clickety-clack of a little wooden train over the zings, zaps, and computer-chipped wisecracks of a Buzz Lightyear any day. Gerry Kyne, a retired Petaluma auto mechanic, understands. Over the last few years, he’s transformed his garage into a veritable Santa’s workshop of delightfully old-fashioned, handcrafted, thoroughly wooden playthings: trains, planes, swords and shields, doll beds, doll chairs, doll tables, and doll-everything-else.

Reasonably priced–from small doll furniture pieces for $4, to $11 swords and $20 trains, up to hand-decorated doll wardrobes at $100–the toys are all made of bright, clear-coated pine wood and are deliberately intended to become family heirlooms.

“Someday,” Kyne says, “the kids who get these toys will be handing them down to their own kids. That’s the idea, anyway.”–D.T.
Call 763-8893 for an appointment to view Kyne’s Woodcrafts.

I Kiss Ibis

If Batman’s Bat Cave had a section for mountain bikes, it would resemble the workshop at Ibis Cycles in Sebastopol. Six-ton machine tools rest on a hard gray floor; psychedelic rows of freshly painted bike frames hang from the rafters; and a platoon of skilled, youthful, cycling fanatics never stops moving. At Ibis they call it the “megafactory,” because it’s so small, a place where a few dozen employees manufacture a few thousand bicycles each year.

Ibis bikes are not cheap, but they’re known as some of the very best machines you can ride. OK, so not everybody needs a $6,000 titanium Bow-Ti, an alpine two-wheeler so high-tech and sexy it got written up in GQ and International Design magazines. Ibis has orders for this radical ride simply to adorn the window displays of fashion boutiques in Milan, Italy.

“It’s a ride like no other,” asserts company founder Scot Nicol. “Full suspension, completely cutting edge, and lightweight at 23 pounds.” Nicol credits his “big-brain” bike designer John Castellano, a former Hughes Aircraft engineer, as the intellectual father of the Bow-Ti.

Nicol says customers for the 100 Bow-Ti bicycles built last year range from obsessed working-class riders to wealthy professionals and even movies stars like Robin Williams.

Nonetheless, a more realistic choice for the mountain bike fans is the Ibis Mojo ($1,850), “the Stradivarius of mountain bikes,” in the words of Healdsburg dentist and mountain-bike racer Roger Bartels.–D.B.
Ibis Cycles bikes are available at Dave’s Bike Sport and at the Bike Peddler in Santa Rosa, and at Gianni Cyclery in Occidental.

A Life Less Ordinary

The Random Order store and workspace housed in Santa Rosa’s Juilliard Park area provides the perfect pick-them-up for the discriminating gift givee. Featuring arty items, many of them made by artists whose studios ring the back of this former transmission shop, Random Order has everything from thickly painted whimsical furniture to T-shirts printed on-site by Steve Milton and Valerie Randall, to earrings, papier-mâché bowls, South African artifacts, small clay salt-and-pepper dishes with preciously small serving spoons, Pisces-shaped napkin rings, and circular paper ornaments adorned with faces bearing rhinestone-studded foreheads.

These off-the-beaten-path items, including journals blanked with handmade paper and a grinning metal crocodile whose ribs house CDs, are priced within the ordinary means of ordinary people but offer gift options that are decidedly out of the ordinary.–G.G.
Random Order, 312 South A St. 575-4135.

Oh, Nuts!

The open fire and the Mel Tormé music are up to you, but Green Valley Chestnut Farm can help get things roasting in the proper seasonal spirit. Their organically grown Colossal variety chestnuts are available by mail order anywhere in the country for just $3.95 per pound.

“It’s interesting how many people want them, but can’t find them,” observes Karen Dabel, whose husband, Greg, is the chestnut nut.

The Dabels’ unusual crop was suggested as an agricultural experiment by the county farm adviser, and after planting multiple varieties, they have settled on the ones that grow best amidst their even more numerous types of apple trees. The chestnut, by the way, is not really a nut, but an odd sort of overgrown grain. The natural sweetness chestnuts attain when cooked results from the conversion of starches to sugars. They’re best while still hot, which only enhances their appeal after Jack Frost has been nipping at your nose. Now where’s that turkey and some mistletoe …? –B.R.
Green Valley Chestnut Ranch, 1150 Green Valley Road, Sebastopol. 800/214-2005.


Rich and Mellow: Healdsburg luthier Tom Ribbecke uses rare and ancient woods.

Photo by Janet Orsi



Guitars Made to Order

Jim Surles’ red-brown eyes sparkle behind his thick red beard when he talks about why he makes custom guitars. “The biggest joy I have is not just building a guitar, but more in working with a musician to create a guitar with an amazing voice, and sharing in that. Ultimately, you can play one note and kill everybody if that note has a certain quality.”

At his unmarked shop next to Zone Music in Cotati, Surles makes a couple dozen solid-body electric guitars each year in a few rooms that qualify as a tinker’s fantasy: screwdrivers, clamps, drill bits, templates, precision power tools, and scraps of luscious woods like Brazilian rosewood, Honduran mahogany, and local walnut. He crafts guitars for regular folks and for professional musicians like Terry Haggerty of the Sons of Champlain, Garth Webber of Miles Davis fame, bassist Tony Saunders, and Steve Kimock of Zero.

As a luthier in Sonoma County, Surles is in good company. The area is rich in custom-guitar builders for simple reasons like the predictably low humidity and the presence of Luthier’s Mercantile in Healdsburg. Todd Taggart, president of the guitar building supplies company, estimates 100 guitar makers and repair people work in here.

Surles’ guitars run from $1,200 to $3,000, and while you can also buy a great guitar from a mass manufacturer for that price, the difference, Surles says, is the custom fit. “It’s all to your liking, a certain neck shape, thickness, fret size, color. You pick it up and you’re home.”

The difference is the “intuitive attention to every detail,” in the words of Sebastopol guitar maker Peter Dragge, who calls his craft “a luxury and a crusade.”

Some of Sonoma County’s luthiers, like Steve Klein, whom Dragge describes as the “archetypal innovative luthier of the century,” clearly are not an obvious phone call for an inspired amateur guitar player with an unfulfilled dream. Klein makes about 14 guitars a year, costing $10,000 each, for stars like Joni Mitchell and Steve Miller. Many guitar makers, however, are much more affordable. So when it’s time to treat yourself to the ultimate six-stringer, check out a custom job by your local luthier.–D.B.
A highly arbitrary list of Sonoma County guitar makers includes Peter Dragge of Sebastopol, acoustic guitars for studio guitarists (823-5370); Steve Klein of Sonoma, acoustic guitars (938-4639); John Knutson of Forestville, portable upright electric basses (887-2709); Richard Prenkart of Sebastopol, classic nylon-string guitars and flamenco guitars (829-6719); Tom Ribbecke of Healdsburg, acoustic guitars and electric arch-top jazz guitars (433-3778); and Jim Surles of Cotati, electric guitars and basses (664-8177).

Get Amped

Tall, lanky, and definitely heavy-metal, guitarist John Marshall has the most rocking day job in Sonoma County. The seemingly mellow guitar picker gets to play on an endless line of brand-new amplifiers as a quality-control dude for Mesa Engineering in Petaluma, home of the fat ‘n’ full sound of Mesa/Boogie vacuum-tube guitar amplifiers.

“It’s not the best practice,” concedes Marshall, “but it keeps your fingers loose.” Secluded in a soundproofed room, this former equipment technician for the band Metallica riffs continuously on some of the world’s finest amplifiers in what has to be one of the world’s more unique assembly-line jobs.

Mesa/Boogie’s niche is vacuum-tube amps. The company never wavered from this fundamental technology as solid-state electronics became standard in the amplifier industry. Why? Simple: the character of the sound, that warm sonic texture only a tube can deliver. “Tube amps give a fatter spectrum of sound,” explains a local road-tested musician. “The highs are crisp without the cutting edginess of solid state. The lows have a much broader dynamic range and a better response to the variation of attacks on the strings.”

Entry-level amplifiers from Mesa/Boogie start at $400, and full-on, blasting, professional-level amplifiers at $1,600.

“Our stuff is really loud and really powerful,” says Mesa/Boogie vice president Jim Ashow. Ashow firmly declines to recite the roster of rock stars playing his gear, choosing not to differentiate between big stars and lesser-known working musicians who rely equally on Mesa/Boogie products and service.

But the story tells itself. Framed photos celebrating a 25-year retrospective-edition amplifier feature the young Keith Richards, Peter Townshend, and Carlos Santana. Such a heady following is no accident. A complete quality-control tag requires 12 separate signatures. Testing includes “burning in” each set by leaving it on for few days. Then each tube gets a whack from a hammer handle to ensure its integrity. “We don’t kid-glove it out the door,” says Ashow. “On the road with a rock band it has to work every day.”–D.B.
Mesa/Boogie amplifiers are available at Zone Music in Cotati. Mesa Engineering is located at 1317 Ross St., Petaluma. 778-6565.

Dried Good

You could call some disinterested 800-operator in a distant time zone to get a wreath of Sonoma County dried flowers, or you could make a local call directly to the source. That would be Bennett Valley Farms, which, despite the name, is located in a rustic valley just west of Forestville.

On five fertile acres along Green Valley Creek, Alan Siegle and Barbara Friedman grow garlic, larkspur, statice, yarrow, lavender, sage, and numerous other herbs and flowers, many of which are dried and incorporated into elegant wreaths and centerpieces. Friedman, who designs most of their creations, and Siegle began farming together as a hobby two decades ago while they were SSU students, and have been pleasantly surprised to see their business grow into what they proudly proclaim to be “the biggest UPS shipper in Forestville.”

Their products are featured in such nationally distributed catalogs as L.L. Bean, Real Goods, White Flower Farm, and Calyx Carolla, but when the orders come in, they are drop-shipped directly from the farm. The goods are also sold through local gift shops and craft shows, and Friedman frequently teaches wreath-making workshops at the farm and other venues around the county. Bay leaf wreaths are a popular variation on her circular theme this time of year. On-site sales are not a big part of their business, Siegle says, but visitors are welcome all the same.–B.R.
Bennett Valley Farms, 6797 Giovanetti Road, Forestville, CA 95436. 887-9557.

Punx Not Dead at Mom’s Head

Vivien Hillgrove originally described her herb farm, Mom’s Head Gardens (named after the deceased Mom-the-cat), as “experimental punk farming,” a remarkably apt phrase for this half-acre garden in rural southwest Santa Rosa that gets flooded every winter and is fertilized solely through the anarchistic efforts of free-range ducks, chickens, and a stunningly unkempt rabbit.

From spring until late fall, plants spring up happily wherever wind or water send their seeds, and paths weave through blowsy beds of herbs in all states of growth and decay, so that you can see exactly what you’re getting from the small but comprehensively stocked nursery.

This year the nursery is closed for the winter more firmly than usual while Hillgrove fights some zoning ordinances that might prohibit tours of the garden. But the annual herbal craft sale, scheduled for Saturday-Sunday, Dec. 13-14, will go on as planned, and you don’t want to miss the uniquely accessible spirit of Mom’s Head at what Hillgrove is calling a “herbal rave,” with locally made herbal crafts and products, along with perennials and seeds from the garden.

P.S.: Mom’s Head urgently needs a holiday gift of its own, with leads to a retail space in Sonoma County and letters of community support.–M.W.
Mom’s Head Gardens, 4153 Langner Ave., Santa Rosa. Call for sale location, since “we won’t know where it will be ’til the last minute,” says Hillgrove. 585-8575.


Michael Amsler

Feat of Clay: Ceramicists Leslie Gattman and Gene Frank specialize in Judaica.

Little Tops That Spin

Collectible dreidels? You bet. In the four years that Gene Frank and Leslie Gattman have been making the specialized Hanukkah four-sided tops, the dreidels have become one of the hottest items in the 20-year history of their Ceramic Judaica business.

But the husband-and-wife team also produces a full line of traditional and ceremonial items, including Seder plates and Kiddush cups, as well as goblets, candleholders, and spice boxes. Most of their custom designs are hand-painted, and some are also hand-carved with delicate relief figures. Unique creations include the “Endangered Species Charity Box” and the kid-friendly Noah’s ark menorah. “We try to include some content, so there’s something more than just a nice design,” Frank says. They ship the lion’s share of the production from their home-based business to gift shops and loyal customers on the East Coast, but they do maintain a modest gallery area for on-site sales by appointment.–B.R.
Ceramic Judaica 7410 Poplar Ave., Forestville, CA 95436. 887-2833.


Michael Amsler

Twisted Mister: Bonsai expert Keith Pratt grows vineyards in the miniature.

Bonsai!

Face it: You’re not likely to ever own a vineyard, let alone give one to someone. But now it’s possible to get a little piece of wine country for less than the price of a case of good wine. And you won’t have to clear away anything to make room for it, except the corner of your desk.

Keith W. Pratt at Petite Vines in Healdsburg has been quietly training bonsai grape varietals for three years now; the fruits of his labor fit compactly into two medium-sized greenhouses at the unassuming complex just west of Healdsburg. But these gnarly little vines, which actually do produce a small amount of fruit, are hitting it big through catalog sales with the likes of Gump’s, Smith and Hawken, and International Wine Accessories.

You can avoid the middleman and order direct, starting at a mere $60 for a standard bonsai, plus shipping and handling. Young bonsai might look a little stumpy to the unimaginative, but remember that these vines should last for generations, gaining in character as they age. Some of the pricier specimens, in fact, have so much character that they look ready to creak out of the pot and start singing, à la Little Shop of Horrors.

Some people seem to experience irrational anxiety when faced with the prospect of caring for a bonsai. Fear not, Pratt says, it’s easy, especially since grapevines are accustomed to droughty conditions from time to time. And directions are included.–M.W.
Petite Vines, 766 Westside Road, Healdsburg. 433-6255.

Aloha, Sonoma County

Need a break from all that elegant wine country cuisine? How about something Hawaiian? Just pull out your copy of Mama Annie’s Magic Maui Cookbook (Cleall Publishing, 1996) and turn to a favorite recipe–“No Ka Oi Pork Salad” or “Turkey Cutlets with Lychee Nuts” maybe, or perhaps “Makawao Meatballs.”

The instructions are straightforward and easy to follow, and the ingredients are locally obtainable. “There are a few Asian types of things,” acknowledges the author, a new arrival to Sonoma County who is better known as Andrea Cleall, “but there’s nothing you can’t get.”

The author of three successful children’s books before she set her word processor up next to the food processor, Cleall takes full credit for all the recipes, having developed them over 40 years of cooking for six kids. “I took a lot of the ones that I had liked enough to write down over the years,” she says, “and just gave them an island twist, a kind of tropical feel.” Cleall is also a quick study in the kitchen. Soon after unpacking in her new home near Sebastopol, she put together an apple pie that captured second prize at this year’s Gravenstein Apple Fair.–B.R.
Magic Maui Cookbook is available at Copperfield’s Books or directly from Cleall Publishing, 612 Petaluma Ave., Sebastopol, CA 95472. 824-9976.

Dressed Up

“This is our dream,” says Annie Reis, co-owner of Dressmaker, a Bodega clothing shop that specializes in custom sizing and tailoring, as she gestures around her boutique. Housed in a old butcher shop, Dressmaker still has the original door to the walk-in freezer.

Dressmaker is also a dream for hard-to-fit women who have a tough time finding wearable, off-the-rack clothing.

Owners Reis and Yeunny Mears (who previously designed for the Pastorale clothing store in Freestone and Santa Rosa) provide one-on-one customer attention in their 6-month-old store. Their workshop-boutique is easy to spot with its two sewing machines in the front window and colorful fabric displays inside.

Mears designs all the clothing and creates her own patterns. Using high-quality natural fibers like silks, organic cotton, and 100 percent censel (a washable new fiber made from wood pulp and having the drape and texture of fine suede), Mears will custom-make garments within two weeks–and she won’t charge extra for custom sizing.

Customers can call and order fabric swatches, and Mears will keep measurements on file for future reference. Prices range from $35 for a vest to $200 for a full outfit. In addition, Reis makes a line of custom jewelry using semiprecious stones, handmade glass, crystal, and sterling silver. Gift certificates are available.–P.H.
Dressmaker, 17175 Bodega Hwy., Bodega. Open seven days a week. 876-9877.

Oil Good Things

There are lotsa good olive oils out there now, but there’s only one at the Santa Rosa Farmers’ Market, which is where I got my first taste of V.G. Buck’s oil and olive-based tapenades. It was a strange thing to be tasting at 9 a.m., but I gamely dipped a piece of bread in the green-gold liquid and popped it in my mouth.

Mmm-mm, good! After tasting the wonderful tapenades–more forceful, but equally delicious–I was hooked.

So are a lot of other people, according to Deborah Rogers, co-owner of the Kenwood-based company. “We get calls every day from people who tasted one of our products somewhere and want to know where to get more,” she says.

Locals are in luck, as the award-winning oil and spreads (two golds and a silver medal at the 1997 Harvest Fair for the tapenades, and a silver medal for the oil) are available in many stores, as are the delicious balsamic vinegars, with prices ranging from $4.50 for delicate 5-oz. bottles to $19 for more substantial containers. Items can also be ordered directly (checks only at this point).

The Olive Press in Glen Ellen offers V.G. Buck tapenades in some of its gift boxes, but you can create the same effect for less by purchasing the bottles individually and wrapping them up yourself.–M.W.
V.G. Buck, P.O. Box 1037, Kenwood, CA 95452. 833-6548.

Shadows and Light

When Dave Locatell Jr., a popular bass player with numerous Sonoma County bands, was felled by a heart attack last summer while waiting to take the stage at Konocti Harbor, he left his 5-year-old son fatherless–but far from friendless.

An immediate outpouring of concern and support from other musicians led to a widely publicized benefit concert and memorabilia auction Nov. 2, and the creation of a special tribute tape, both of which are endowing a trust fund for the family.

Shadows on the Wall (Sounds Too Good to Be True Records) features six heartfelt original songs by Locatell’s friends and musical colleagues, tracks that honor the man and his memory while expressing the artists’ sense of loss.

Far from depressing, this outpouring of affection is sincere and uplifting, and leavened considerably by Buzzy Martin’s scorching “Monday to Monday,” a hard-rocking tribute expressed in terms that might have been used by Locatell’s favorite little old band from Texas, ZZ Top.–B.R.
Shadows on the Wall is available for $10 at all Long’s Drugs in Sonoma County and Novato through the end of the year.

Hidden Jewels

Even four guesses may not be enough for you to identify the location of the county’s largest concentration of budget jewelry outlets. Of course, it’s tiny Graton, the west county hamlet that has been enjoying a modest renaissance in recent years. Within just a few blocks of one another, three independent shopkeepers offer a variety of imported and handmade jewelry on the premises.

Richard Wolf’s Far Fetched Jewelry (3140 N. Edison; 829-1867) specializes in original designs, most of which are then manufactured in Mexico. At the Jewelry Factory Outlet (3137 Mueller Road; 823-7372), owner Larry Capelis says, “We sell jewelry hand-made here in Graton and around the Pacific Rim.” And at the low-profile Two Gals with the Gift (3195 Gravenstein Hwy. N., at 2 Guys with a Big Truck; 824-9778), Chris Ricke has a wide selection of jewelry pieces, so customers can choose their own combinations on the spot.

All three shops sell their wares to major department stores–Nordstrom, Saks, Macy’s, etc.–so you could easily pay much more for the same goods; maybe you’ve already done that. Conversely, you can save your pennies and make the scenic drive out to Graton to check out the options at the source. One guess should do it this time.–B.R

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The General’s Daughter

0

Sit up Straight


Michael Amsler

General’s Son: Executive chef Joseph Vitale Jr. serves up stylish, succulent elegance at the General’s Daughter.

The General’s Daughter gets our attention

By Paula Harris

ADMIT IT: This is the time of year when “gift” becomes a four-letter word, and any tolerance for holiday hordes (and, God knows, Sonoma County draws its share) begins an insidious journey toward the breaking point. One remedy is to pry frantic holiday visitors (and yourself) out of the stores and away from the QVC shopping channel for a couple of hours of good food and conversation in a graceful setting.

A few blocks from the tourist-driven bustle of Sonoma Plaza rises a stately yellow Victorian mansion, set on one and a half acres of landscaped gardens, complete with patios, porches, and century-old climbing roses. The General’s Daughter, built in 1864 by General Vallejo Mariano for his daughter Natalia (their likenesses now adorn the restroom doors), is a restaurant that celebrates the convergence of old and new Sonoma–with a generous portion of France’s rustic Provence thrown in.

Completely refurbished in 1993, the old building has blossomed in its second incarnation as an upscale eatery. Indeed, next June, the restaurant will open Ramekins, a Mediterranean-style adobe building on the premises, that will house a non-professional cooking school, a five-room bed-and-breakfast hostelry, and a special-events facility.

The General’s Daughter’s gracious dining room, which consists of several beautifully appointed parlors, has a feeling of elegance, but not ostentation. The irregularly placed tables are well spaced to give a sense of intimacy–not so uniformly close that you unwittingly eavesdrop on (and sometimes even bond with) other diners.

The restaurant boasts muted pastel walls, warm-toned hardwood floors, soft lighting from candles and lamps, high ceilings, and lovely old bay windows. Touches like fully stocked bookshelves and paintings commissioned by San Francisco artist Rod Knutson, depicting French Provençal country scenes, add coziness. Outside, there’s a dining patio and a porch for cigar smoking.

WE BEGAN with homemade infused vodkas, the restaurant’s popular, potent icebreakers. There is a rotating selection, all made with Bay Area Skyy vodka. This night’s choices included a winter spice cinnamon-clove and a grapefruit–but we opted for a vanilla bean and a Thai pepper-ginger (both $4). Served straight up in frosty martini glasses, the vanilla bean was as smooth and creamy-tasting as a clear, distilled milkshake, and the Thai pepper-ginger was an icy concoction with a blast of tongue-curling heat that had good Bloody Mary potential.

The restaurant was fairly quiet on this midweek evening, but felt understaffed. Our server was harried and distracted and seemed keen to rush us out at the end of the meal while we would have liked to linger. (On another recent visit, service was more accommodating, but still strangely unfocused for such a classy establishment.)

The extensive wine list includes more than 100 wines, the majority hailing from Sonoma County. Fifteen wines are available by the glass, several by the half-bottle. We selected a Roche 1994 Carneros unfiltered pinot noir ($28). This was a gutsy, deep ruby pinot with a concentrated strawberry bouquet.

To start, we ordered crisp buttermilk-and-cornmeal onion rings with lemon-pepper aioli ($3.95). A mountain of shoestring-style onions was heaped clumsily onto a plate–a dinerlike presentation that countered the genteel ambiance. The only evidence of the promised aioli were some oily patches seeping through the middle of the onion pile. We could not detect any lemon-pepper flavor, but the onions, though too greasy, were hot and tasty.

The Sonoma mixed green salad was a fresh and pleasing assortment of greens, dressed with balsamic vinaigrette, plus roasted garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, and toasted hazelnuts ($6.95), punctuated by pungent crumbles of Laura Chenel’s chèvre.

Next, we tried the wild mushroom risotto with white truffle oil ($14.95), a triumphant blend of perfectly plump grains of arborio rice studded with three types of mushrooms and mixed with caramelized onions, baby spinach, and pecorino-romano cheese. The whole thing was drizzled with white truffle oil and garnished with a jaunty fresh rosemary sprig. The tones of truffles and mushrooms imparted a wonderful earthy, nutty flavor that well matched the unfiltered wine, while the tender baby spinach gave the dish a clean symmetry. A basket of warm whole-wheat rolls, fresh from the kitchen, enhanced the experience.

The grilled Pacific salmon with a ginger and black pepper beurre blanc ($16.95) was a bright, Asian-inspired composition. The deftly cooked salmon was crisp-topped and moist beneath. Rosy-hued pickled ginger and snippets of scallions heightened the flavor. The dish was served with prawn-fried rice (although we couldn’t locate any prawns) and slightly overcooked grilled baby bok choy.

The white chocolate mousse topped with passion fruit purée and tropical fruit ($4.95) came served in a martini glass, garnished with blackberries, melon, and kiwi. We expected a light consistency, but it was ultra-dense, and the topping tasted more of orange than passion fruit.

Citrus-scented and served warm, the orange bread pudding ($4.95), on the other hand, looked heavy but had a surprisingly airy texture with a good orange flavor and was popping with tiny delicate currants. A fitting finale.

The General’s Daughter is an enjoyable and elegant place to entertain guests (or give yourself a well-earned breather) during these trying seasonal times.

The General’s Daughter
400 W. Spain St., Sonoma; 938-4004
Hours: Open daily. Lunch, 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.; Sunday brunch, 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.; dinner, 5:30 to 9:30 p.m. (10 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays)
Food: Wine country cuisine with Oriental and Southwest influences
Service: Inconsistent
Ambiance: Elegant, romantic
Price: Moderate to expensive
Wine list: Stellar selection of over 100 wines, the majority from Sonoma County. Fifteen wines available by the glass, several by the half bottle.
Overall: *** (out of four stars)

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Seals and Sea Lions

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Easy Target


Michael Amsler

Eye on the Prize: For the past seven years, Elinor Twohy has kept daily watch on California sea lions and Pacific harbor seals basking near her Jenner home. Now federal wildlife officials blame the peaceful pinnipeds for dwindling fisheries.

Federal wildlife report proposes selective slaughter of local seals and sea lions

By Paula Harris

AFTER A NIGHT of hunting in cold deep waters, several Pacific harbor seals haul their hefty mottled bodies onto the sandbars at the mouth of the Russian River to rest awhile. Visitors may be attracted to their doglike, whiskered faces and large liquid eyes, but few onlookers are aware that these pinnipeds, along with local sea lions, are facing a possible culling next year.

A draft Report to Congress on the Impacts of California Sea Lions and Pacific Harbor Seals on Salmonids and West Coast Ecosystems headed for Capitol Hill next year seeks to reauthorize the Marine Mammal Protection Act and give authorities permission to shoot troublesome seals and sea lions. If sanctioned, the cull–which raises the spectre of marksmen sniping the peaceful sea mammals reclining near Jenner–could cover 52 river systems in Washington, Oregon, and California, including the Russian River, where coho salmon and steelhead trout have been placed on the threatened-species list.

According to some beleaguered fishermen, the Pacific harbor seals and California sea lions are largely responsible for the demise of the fish species. Activists disagree.

Federal fisheries managers claim that evidence supports the long-held contention of local fishermen, since sea lion and seal populations are thriving while endangered/threatened salmon populations are diminishing. The feds say that the burgeoning numbers of seals and sea lions are indeed partly to blame.

If the recommendations of the report are approved by Congress, by this time next year state Fish and Game and federal Fish and Wildlife officials could be stationed at the overlook on Highway 1 above the Russian River to observe the winter run of steelhead salmon. If they see seals or sea lions preying on the fish, they could be authorized to shoot to kill. “The implications are enormous,” says Dian Hardy, founder of the Seal Watch program, which guards resting seals against onlookers north and south of the Russian River in cooperation with the state Department of Parks and Recreation. “It will be the first time the Marine Mammal Protection Act will be breached to allow government intervention.”

SEALS AND SEA LIONS are currently protected under the federal Marine Mammal Protection Act of 1972. “Before that, they were hunted with impunity, and it looks like we’re on the road to return to that bloody time,” laments Hardy.

But Chuck Wise, president of the Fishermen’s Marketing Association in Bodega Bay, says something has to be done to control the animals. “They are growing 5 to 10 percent on a yearly basis, and they can’t continue to do so unchecked,” he says. “Otherwise there’s not going to be a fish left in the ocean and the beach will be littered with sick sea lions.”

Wise says that he encounters the large sea mammals, especially sea lions, more now than at any other time in 25 years of fishing. “I realize [sea lions] are doing what comes naturally, but they go around in packs now and we’re lucky to get 50 percent of the fish that get attached to our gear before [the sea lions] get them.”

Environmentalists say a 1991 scat analysis study at Russian River showed that salmon is not the primary food source for seals, which mostly eat flat fish, octopus, hake, and hagfish. Sea lions are known to consume a similar diet of squid, octopus, herring, rockfish, mackerel, anchovy, hake, and lamprey. Environmentalists say the pinnipeds are being scapegoated for other, more damaging factors, such as the recent human impact of clear-cutting, dredging, damming, and pollution that have caused the decline of the state’s fisheries.

Elyssa Rosen, California regional representative of the Sierra Club, says the destruction of habitats is caused by landowners upstream, not by sea mammals at the mouth of the river. “If they’re going to be taking it out on the sea lions, it’s misguided–the real problem is the industrial timber practices and the practices from water development and from agriculture, mainly wineries,” says Rosen. “Timber practices may be the No. 1 impact on salmon fishing. It’s a big, nasty business that continues to operate without restrictions. Sea lions certainly aren’t the culprit.”

Tom Okey, marine biologist and Pacific fisheries project manager for the Center for Marine Conservation in San Francisco, agrees. “The real reason is it’s our modification and they are the scapegoat–seals and sea lions are potentially having an effect on the salmon population because we’ve modified habitats. It’s our fault,” he observes. “We’ve changed rivers, whole watersheds, and forests. If you change temperatures, sedimentation of rivers from grazing, or agricultural activities, or pollution runoff, then agricultural or industrial areas will all contribute to the habitual degradation of salmon.”


Michael Amsler

Wet & Wild: Salmon not on the menu.

THE HUMANE SOCIETY is strongly opposing the recommendations for site-specific lethal management of California sea lions and Pacific harbor seals. After reviewing the data, Toni Frohoff of the Humane Society notes: “We strongly believe that sea lion predation is not responsible for the decline of fisheries along Washington, Oregon, and California and that it is crucial that managing agencies mitigate the true sources of the declines.

“We believe that this [culling] proposal will do nothing to improve or enhance the salmon population, but will further its demise by diverting attention from the actual causes: habitat loss and mismanagement of the fishery. Pinnipeds and salmon have co-existed on the West Coast for millions of years. This proposal is unable to cite any scientific studies to support its thesis because there are none. Therefore it is irrelevant and should be abandoned in favor of meaningful solutions based on solid scientific evidence.”

Irma Lagomarsino, fishery biologist for the National Marine Fisheries Service, southwest region, who helped write the controversial report, says that although the NMFS has concluded that sea lions and harbor seals have not caused salmon to become depleted or endangered, they may inhibit growth of the salmon population.

She admits that several factors have contributed to the decline in salmon, and that although seals and sea lions are not a major contributing factor, “they could contribute to [salmon] populations not recovering.”

The report recommends that state or federal workers could be authorized under strict guidelines to “lethally take” seals and sea lions in cases where the pinnipeds are preying on salmon; impeding passage of salmon; or in cases where certain individual seals or sea lions are not responding to non-lethal deterrents and are becoming a burden to fisheries, causing a significant economic impact.

Lagomarsino says all these “management strategies” would restrict the number of “lethally taken” pinnipeds annually. “The PBR [potential biological removal] idea is to remove a few animals every year, and we would not allow more to be taken over the PBR,” says Lagomarsino, adding that the combined PBR for Washington, Oregon, and California would be 6,410 “lethally removed” pinnipeds per year. “But maybe only a dozen or two dozen would be removed. We don’t anticipate it would come close to the PBR–it just won’t happen.”

When asked whether sea lions and seals are being scapegoated, Lagomarsino pauses for a few moments before answering. “The agency’s perspective is that’s not the case,” she finally says. “That’s why we came up with those recommendations.” The NMFS is looking into more non-lethal deterrents–such as seal bombs, barriers, and blunt arrows–but environmentalists say a lot more research needs to be done in that area. The NMFS is wading through 3,000 public responses about the draft report, and the final version won’t go to Congress for a couple more months.

Meanwhile, Hardy says that in the 13 years she has worked closely to harbor seals she has never felt so threatened as by the proposed culling policy. “An unnatural predator will have a license to kill,” she says, shaking her head. “Natural order will be turned on its head by this.”

If the proposal goes through, she adds, Seal Watch plans to continue protecting the pinnipeds. “If necessary, we will put our bodies on the line,” says Hardy. “Because the empathy you develop for these animals, so awkward on land, is strong. In their vulnerability, I see an echo of our own selves–we’re also awkward land creatures.”

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Talking Pictures

0

Waiting to Inhale


Peter C. Cook

Icky Brain Pox: Author Richard Preston often travels with an anthrax nozzle. If stopped at an airport security check, Preston explains it as a plumbing device. The simple horror of this ruse should give pause.

Anthrax, bio-weapons, and ‘The Jackal’

By David Templeton

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This time out, he discusses The Jackal with best-selling bio-weapons spookmeister Richard Preston.

THERE IS A CERTAIN undeniable thrill in having lunch at the Ritz-Carlton while a weapon of mass destruction sits on the linen-covered tabletop.

Called an “anthrax nozzle,” the weapon is all gleaming metal and plumbing. Manufactured at Fort Dietrich, Md., by the United States in the 1960s, this nozzle is designed to blast an invisible puff of lethal biological agents into the air and has just been pulled from the briefcase of author Richard Preston, a pleasant, soft-spoken man with an unexpectedly wicked edge of humor; he clearly enjoys the delicate perversity of this unlikely little show-and-tell session.

“I guarantee you,” Preston grins, as I disassemble the harmless-looking object and peer into the golf-ball-sized loading chamber (where dried bacilli containing anthrax spores are thankfully not waiting), “this is the first time an anthrax nozzle has ever been brought out in the dining room at the Ritz.”

And with any luck it will be the last.

Biological weapons–such as the one now casting a shadow over Preston’s ahi ahi tuna salad–have been much in the news lately. Preston has been in the news as well, the result of the uncanny timing of his latest book, The Cobra Event (Random House; $25.95).

With a chunk of its action taking place in Iraq, the frightening, fast-paced, fact-filled novel follows a motley crew of FBI agents and bio-weapons specialists attempting to thwart a creepy terrorist who’s developed a deadly virus–a genetically engineered “brain pox”–and has been testing it on unfortunate New Yorkers while planning to unleash it on the world at large.

Preston’s previous non-fiction work, The Hot Zone (Anchor, 1995), was similarly well timed; its nightmarish depiction of an Ebola virus outbreak coincided with reports of a similar epidemic overseas.

Preston’s interest in terrorist activity has led to a discussion of the new thriller The Jackal. The film, a remake of the classic Day of the Jackal, stars Bruce Willis and Richard Gere as, respectively, a bad terrorist and a good terrorist, duking it out with weapons of small destruction: really big guns.

Unfortunately, compared to Cobra’s icky brain pox–which spreads like the common cold and causes its victims to eat themselves alive–Willis’ high-tech cannon and Gere’s various sidearms seem rather tame. Just like Preston’s killer virus, however, it’s the very coldness, the unfeeling relentlessness of the killer, that makes the story truly disturbing.

“It’s very scary,” Preston agrees. “And that is what scares us about biological weapons, the one weapon of mass destruction that is alive and can replicate itself and spread. Plutonium released into the air, or a chemical gas released into the air, can kill, and there will be casualties, but the casualties won’t multiply because chemicals cannot spread as living diseases.

“They won’t go out of control. They can’t assume a life of their own like a biological agent will.

“One case of human smallpox,” he continues, “could easily give rise to 20 more. You could get this exponential growth in cases from one relatively small terrorist attack.”

He pauses, as I place the nozzle back on the table. “You want to hear something really scary?” he asks.

“Everyone thinks we are immune to smallpox because of the smallpox vaccine. But the human population is no longer immune, because the vaccine shots wear off after 10 to 20 years. A release of a biological weapon or an accidental laboratory escape, especially if the thing has had some genetic engineering done on it that would make it resistant to drugs or vaccines, could end up being a major public health problem all over the world.”

One scene in The Jackal shows a group of FBI administrators who laugh off the notion that the terrorists pose any real threat. I ask Preston if this cavalier attitude is similar to our country’s real-life perspective on our vulnerability to attack.

“Sure,” he replies. “What I hear is that the CIA does not know anything about biological weapons, that they don’t have people in the CIA with degrees in biology or medical training.”

He goes on to explain that the biological weapons program that developed the device now decorating our lunch table was officially disbanded years ago, and that apparently no similar program has arisen to take its place.

“If we did have a secret bio-weapons program,” he says, “I think the CIA would have at least some experts who know about this stuff. They don’t.”

The Cobra Event has been optioned to be made into a big-screen fright fest. “That’s something very old in the human psyche,” Preston muses. “The public nightmare. It’s much better to confront a nightmare while you’re asleep, to make mental adjustments to it when it isn’t really real, than it is to see it in reality. Hollywood is feeding that same need with disaster stories. It’s so much better to experience bio-terror–or any kind of terror–[in a movie theater] than it is on the streets of a city.”

He picks up the anthrax nozzle and quietly slips it into his bag.

“Perhaps,” he smiles, “we’ll be even better prepared should such things ever actually take place.”

From the Dec. 4-10, 1997 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

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