Earthquake Insurance

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Shook Out


Janet Orsi

Shaky Ground: While consumer groups are less than enthusiastic about the state’s earthquake insurance fund, insurance agent Dayna Sibert of Healdsburg says that as a stopgap measure, it works.

Californians who scramble for earthquake insurance are in for a surprise

By Bruce Robinson

THIS YEAR has been an extremely excruciating time for virtually everyone involved with homeowners’ insurance,” says Lee Lewis, the self-described “answer man” for the Insurance Brokers and Agents West, an industry trade association based in Sacramento. “Virtually everyone–I mean the insurance-buying public, the insurance brokers and agencies, regulators, legislators, the insurance companies–has had a problem with this thing.”

That “thing” is earthquake insurance, a commodity that has become scarce throughout California in the wake of the disastrous 1994 Northridge temblor, when the economic foundation of the insurance business was wrecked as thoroughly as an apartment complex at the quake’s epicenter. Millions of dollars in claims quickly depleted the resources of the companies that provided earthquake coverage to San Fernando Valley property owners, and the insurers quickly pulled back to avoid further exposure to that kind of risk.

Because a 1985 state law requires all companies selling homeowners insurance in California to also offer earthquake coverage, the industry’s wariness caused its own form of aftershock, as all homeowners insurance became more expensive, and much harder to find.

A recent survey of insurance agents and brokers in California “indicated that 99.8 percent of the marketplace either would not issue any new business at all or would issue it only on a restricted basis,” reports Lewis, who notes that is an increase from 89 percent in another survey at the beginning of the year. “It’s been extremely tight.”

“The price of regular homeowner insurance premiums has doubled in the last 18 months,” concurs Ken Willis, president of the League of California Homeowners, while earthquake coverage has shot up even more. Consequently, “the percentage of California homeowners who carry earthquake policies has dropped from only 25 percent of the state prior to Northridge to less than 10 percent today.

“Most people simply cannot afford it.”

Willis says his own “former $200 [earthquake] policy went to $1,050–and I dropped it!”

To address this situation, the state Legislature last year created the California Earthquake Authority, a $10.5 billion state-run fund to guarantee limited quake coverage for those who want it. That program is due to begin full operation in mid-December.

“Consumers will probably not see much difference” under the new agency, says state Insurance Commissioner Chuck Quackenbush, who masterminded the fund’s creation. Homeowners will continue to deal with their own insurance agents, who will begin offering a standardized earthquake policy underwritten by the CEA. Those same agents will handle any claims that arise, “but the [settlement] check will be cut by the California Earthquake Authority,” Quackenbush says.

The innovative CEA has been widely praised by the insurance industry, although it has been accepted with somewhat less enthusiasm by consumer groups. “I think that as a stopgap measure, it was the only choice that California had,” says Dayna Sibert, owner of Sibert Insurance Services in Healdsburg. Without it, “there was going to be absolutely no homeowners [earthquake] insurance left.”

Under CEA, earthquake coverage will become standardized, Sibert says. “They’re going to have a basic policy to cover the primary living structure: $1,500 for additional living expenses [during repairs] and $5,000 for contents. It will be the same policy offered to everybody. There won’t be any changes that will be available. All of the companies have already gone to this particular policy.”

That basic policy also comes with a uniform 15 percent deductible, and in a particularly troublesome bit of language for rural areas such as Sonoma County, coverage is restricted to the primary residence only. “All other structures” are specifically excluded.

“I don’t think they were using their heads” when that provision was drafted, says Jack Rosetti, a Farmers Insurance agent in Santa Rosa. “What they were trying to eliminate were some of the small frivolous claims in the Los Angeles area, where we were replacing decks and hot tubs and gazebos. I think they could have clarified the difference between a second dwelling and ‘all other structures.'”

That seemingly simple omission could “wipe out an entire class of businesses,” worries Rebecca Smith, owner of the Farmhouse Inn, a Forestville bed and breakfast. “How many people do you have running a business out of their home? Many vintners live on the winery property, she notes, and B&B owners do so by definition.

“I don’t think the people drafting the legislation think a lot about people who don’t drive to work every day and who operate a myriad of businesses out of their homes,” she continues. “I think that needs to be looked at.”

For those who want quake coverage for detached offices, studios, granny units, barns, or other secondary buildings on a residential property, options are limited. “There might be a few small companies that will continue to offer earthquake insurance on their own,” says Rosetti, “but I don’t anticipate their premiums to be any better, and you’re with a small company,” rather than with a large organization able to raise matching resources to pay claims.

Premium rates for CEA coverage will range from $2.75 to $5.75 per $1,000 of assessed value, with rates set by zip code areas. The statewide average is expected to be $3.29, according to Richard Weibe, a spokesman for the state Department of Insurance, but Sonoma County’s rates will be “pretty close to the top.”

As for the limits of the CEA policy, “Obviously there are people who are not going to be satisfied with $5,000 coverage for contents,” Weibe says. “We think the private market will make coverage available to supplement the basic coverage offered through CEA.”

One company trying to fill that niche is F+G Specialty Insurance Services of San Francisco, whose president, Rich Campagna, says they have sold 8,000 quake policies statewide since setting up shop early this year. “We’ll be competing with CEA,” Campagna says. “I think some people are going to be surprised when there is a big event. The cost of replacing contents and the cost of living expenses will far exceed what that [CEA] policy offers.”

However, Campagna’s company carefully screens the homes it insures on the basis of age and location, making sure its business is geographically diversified. “We won’t offer this to everyone in the state, which [CEA] will,” he notes.

“CEA is an imperfect thing,” concludes Lee Lewis. “The real solution, we believe, lies in national legislation” to create a Natural Disaster Protection Act, “something similar to what CEA would do but on a national basis.” While such a bill has been proposed in each of the last several sessions of Congress, it has yet to win broad nationwide support.

Meanwhile, concerned homeowners can find our more about their individual options by calling the state Department of Insurance consumer hotline at 800/233-9045 or the IBA consumer hotline at 800/772-8998.

From the November 21-27, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Star Trek Archetypes

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Trekkies Unite!


Janet Orsi

Brave New Worlds: Therapist Meg Pierce searches for archetypes and other universal meanings within the humble plot lines of ‘Star Trek.’

Local therapist boldly goes where ‘Star Trek’ has gone before

By Zack Stentz

ROSS PEROT PROMISED that, if elected, he would fix the economy “at warp speed.” Gene Roddenberry’s cremated ashes orbited on a real space shuttle. Inner-city crack addicts ritualistically mumble “Beam me up, Scotty” before taking a hit on the pipe.

These are only a few indications that, 30 years, four series, eight movies, countless novels, comic books, action figures, conventions, and other tie-ins after its origin, the one-time cult phenomenon known as Star Trek has made a huge impact on global popular culture. So, given the potent chords the show strikes in the American Zeitgeist, could Star Trek provide a fruitful launching point for serious discussions about love, life, and other universal human concerns?

Well, duh.

The idea of using Star Trek as grist for analyzing serious themes might be self-evident to any enthusiast (and according to one poll, 50 percent of the American population identify themselves as Star Trek fans), but it took Santa Rosa therapist Meg Pierce, MFCC, to turn the concept into a monthly lecture/discussion series. “I’ve had the idea in my mind for a long time, and the response so far has been very encouraging,” says Pierce, a statuesque woman whose outward appearance belies any pointy-eared, geeky Trekkie stereotypes one might harbor.

But Pierce’s pleasant exterior conceals a mind brimming with a great enthusiasm for and encyclopedic knowledge of things Trek, as I discover when we quickly digress into a discussion of our shared favorite hour of Trek. Entitled “Darmok,” this Star Trek: The Next Generation episode finds Picard encountering a race of benevolent aliens who communicate entirely through elaborate, colorful metaphors–which could in itself be viewed as a metaphor for Pierce’s lectures.

With monthly attendance including a dozen or so souls, Pierce soon plans on offering the discussion series in San Francisco as well. “It came from me asking myself why,” she says. “Why have I and so many other people been watching this for 30 years?”

As Pierce discovered, what makes Star Trek so rich with discussion possibilities are the number of ideological and analytic lenses through which one can examine the show. There’s the political angle, which sees the evolution of Star Trek in its various incarnations as charting the development of modern liberalism, from the Kennedyesque swaggering of Captain Kirk to the introspective, multi-culti cultural relativism of the latter-day Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, and Voyager. Then there are the analysts who view the different Star Trek series as illustrations of workplace environments, as reflected by the widely varying leadership styles of Captains Kirk, Picard, Sisko, and Janeway. (Hint: Never wear a red shirt and beam down to a planet with William Shatner–minor characters suited red, are, to rhyme simply, marked dead.)

Pierce’s own enthusiasm for Star Trek isn’t widely shared in the therapist community–“though there are a few of us”–but she still finds the show to be a useful tool for communicating with patients in the language of symbols. “I look at the show through my orientation as a depth therapist, so the Jungian model is the closest for me,” she says.

Pierce also finds rich metaphorical potential in the Next Generation characters. Using as its starting point the characters of Enterprise security chief Worf and Guinan–Whoopi Goldberg’s 400-year old sage/bartender (imagine Yoda with braids)–Pierce found herself Jung again. “Worf, of course, is the warrior archetype, the conflicts of which have been explored several times in different episodes,” she explains. “And Guinan, of course, is a wonderful representation of the wise old woman character.”

Other upcoming lecture and discussion topics include the rich metaphoric realms of sex, love, and dreams–though Pierce will have to search hard for the sex part. Despite Captain Kirk’s predilection for bedding an alien babe-of-the-week in each episode, The Next Generation is notoriously prudish about passions of the flesh, with Captain Picard getting lucky a mere two times over the course of the series’ seven-year run.

And then there’s the symbolic significance of the Borg, the frightening race of hive-minded cybernetic villains whose abduction of Captain Picard resonated with themes of bodily violation. “With the new movie out, that one should be an especially interesting,” says Pierce, anticipating the impending release of (slated for Friday, Nov. 22), which promises to bring the Borg back for another round of combat with the Enterprise crew.

And despite the somewhat highfalutin intellectual level of her monologues, which might send Mr. Spock scrambling for his thesaurus, Pierce’s hopes for the lectures are a bit more, well, down to earth. “I just want people to have fun,” she says. “I think it’s enjoyable to get a group of people together to talk about things that interest them.”

Meg Pierce’s next lecture is scheduled for Dec. 12 at 7 p.m. at 1049 Fourth St., Suite C, Santa Rosa. Admission is $10. 526-2118.

From the November 21-27, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

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© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Vegan Thanksgiving

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No Bones About It

Vegans go cold turkey on the meat at Thanksgiving

By David Templeton

ON THANKSGIVING MORNING, weeks after her preparations first began, Juliet Jackson will rise early, light the oven in her rustic ranch-house kitchen, and begin an energetic homestretch sprint toward the annual holiday dinner. But with a twist.

A small mountain of broken cornbread biscuits, made a week ahead, will be taken from the freezer and mixed together with walnuts, pine nuts, and some seasonal berries. The potatoes, the gravy, the cranberries, and the pumpkin pie will all receive their finishing touches as her family gathers about the table in eager anticipation of a traditional Thanksgiving meal.

Traditions, however, shift from family to family. And one of the Jackson’s dearest traditions–one that may come as something of a shock to many salivating celebrators of Turkey Day–is that on this table there will be no turkey.

“I haven’t done Thanksgiving with a turkey for all of my adult life,” Jackson affirms. “We don’t want it. And we certainly don’t miss it.”

To a wide slice of the nation’s populace, the very notion of a meatless Thanksgiving might seem strange and jarring and a little bit sad. After all, Thanksgiving dinner is the turkey–an enormous, juicy, piping-hot, sage-seasoned, cornbread-stuffed, golden brown Meleagris gallopavo, brought to the table with a fanfare of “oohs” and “ahhs,” subdivided into preferences of white or dark meat, and served beneath spoonfuls of gravy and heaps of stuffing. Now that’s a Thanksgiving dinner, right?

Not necessarily.

A growing number of vegetarians and vegans (the former will indulge in dairy products and the occasional egg, while the latter touch neither flesh nor fowl nor the by-products thereof) are boldly redefining the very meaning of Thanksgiving, claiming a keener affinity with the true meaning of the holiday, much the same way that they have redesigned their own diets to reflect a cleaner, more natural lifestyle.

Every reason you can think of sounds good to me,” Jackson says of her choice, made 30 years ago, to go meatless. “Health is probably the predominant reason. I’ve raised three children as vegetarians. They’ve all stayed eating this way.”

The former owner of a vegetarian cafe in Sebastopol and a health food store in North Carolina, Jackson makes no attempt to replace the absent bird in her Thanksgiving dinners, relying instead on the traditional side dishes, “most of which are vegan to begin with.” With only minor adjustments here and there–soymilk in the mashed potatoes and an organic non-dairy creamer in the pumpkin pie–Jackson has developed a holiday spread that looks pretty much like everyone else’s, while accentuating her philosophy of culinary ethics and healthful living.

“Thanksgiving is not about turkeys,” she says. “It’s about giving the best you have to give, and being truly thankful for the good things around us. All of that is heightened, I think, by the way my family chooses to live and eat.”

GREG SCHMITZ AGREES. As deli manager at the Food for Thought natural-foods grocery store in Sebastopol, Schmitz caters to a savvy clientele who demand innovation in their meatless dishes, and who look to him for unusual Thanksgiving ideas.

“No vegan must ever go hungry on Thanksgiving,” he laughs, “and the best food to put on the table is the food that is growing right now. As for the ‘turkey thing,’ I’ve found that, in general, most people don’t really care about the turkey anyway. Traditionally, they may have a slice, but what they really want is the pumpkin pie or some of Aunt Vida’s famous casserole.

“With that in mind, I pay special attention to my side dishes,” he says, pointing out a popular raw cranberry sauce with grapes and oranges. He also suggests such intriguing fare as sweet potatoes with chipolte peppers, mashed potatoes with leeks, a watercress salad, bean soup, and cornmeal pones, a dish he plans to serve for his own friends as part of the Native American theme he’s developed for this year.

“I like Thanksgiving to be a spiritual event,” he says. “I want us to think about what the day means and how it connects us to our Native American brothers and sisters. Thanksgiving, in general, is far more meaningful to me today that it ever was before.”

Some vegans, however, will admit that Thanksgiving for vegans can be complicated, even infuriating, especially at family gatherings where everyone keeps passing them the turkey plate. Celebrated vegetarian chef Molly Katzen, author of the Moosewood series of cookbooks, comments in her best-selling cookbook Still Life with Menu that “turkey, on Thanksgiving, is often the hardest meat for new vegetarians to give up.”

Kate LeTourneaux-Platt, a Santa Rosa nutritionist and private chef, agrees. “Along with the absence of the meat, there’s the context in which you hold your memories of eating that turkey,” she says, “of going home for the holidays, whom you sat next to, who helped you carve the turkey the first time. There is so much emotion that goes into our food, at holidays in particular. Thanksgiving can be extremely uncomfortable.”

But, as a strict vegan who gave up meat 12 years ago, Le Tourneaux-Platt observes, “I don’t even associate Thanksgiving with turkey anymore. I associate it with autumn, with what is available seasonally.”

And then there are those who have given up meat for ethical reasons, considering it especially difficult to sit idly by on this day that some consider an annual turkey holocaust. “I know some vegetarians who won’t show up for dinner if they know a turkey will be on the table,” says Schmitz.

“Rule No. 1: ‘Don’t trip on the turkey,'” offers organic chef Marguerite Gabe of Sundance Catering in Sebastopol. “I mean, there is so much good food to eat, who really needs the bird?” As examples, she cites the Cajun-themed menu she’s planned for this year, with Tempeh Jambalaya, mashed potatoes with rutabaga, and her specialty: baked orange cups stuffed with yams and honey, topped with pecans.

“Thanksgiving is about friends,” she adds. “And you don’t serve your friends junk, right?”

I LOVE THANKSGIVING,” Bonnie Macias says dreamily. Now working as an accountant, Macias is a former cafe owner who is “between restaurants.” A dedicated vegetarian, she claims Thanksgiving is her favorite holiday. “It’s a beautiful tradition. It’s about bringing out the best you have to offer, your special dishes, your best foods. It’s about remembering the best things in life, being thankful for that.”

Macias’ specialty is a baked pumpkin stuffed with a mixture of wild rice, cranberries, and nuts. She may also whip up her signature cranberry chutney or roasted garlic mashed potatoes with mushroom gravy. And how has she adjusted to Thanksgiving without the turkey?

“What turkey?” she laughs.

Bethany Barsman, owner of Out to Lunch Catering in Petaluma, has carved a niche making healthful vegetarian dishes. “What’s really big for Thanksgiving,” she says, “is potato and vegetable pot pies. They’re festive, and hearty, and they look beautiful on the table. The thing about Thanksgiving without the tradition of the turkey is that people change. You can incorporate healthy changes into your holiday rituals. So you lose the turkey. You have new traditions.

“Either way,” she adds with a laugh, “you still spend your whole day in the kitchen, cooking.”

A vegan Thanksgiving potluck, hosted by Jules Michael, will be held from noon to 4 p.m., Nov. 28, in Guerneville at 16363 Wright Drive (cross streets are Drake Road and Hwy. 116). Bring a holiday dish to share. For more details, call 869-0603.

From the November 21-27, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

SSU Fee Hikes

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Class Struggle

By Bruce Robinson

COMPETING VISIONS of the future at Sonoma State University are heading for a showdown on the quiet Rohnert Park campus later this month in the form of a student-fee increase vote that holds dire implications for the entire California State University system.

Critics charge that the proposed 15 percent fee hike is a thinly veiled attempt to transform the publicly funded university into an Ivy League­type campus, just to assuage the ego of its president.

The issue as to whether SSU’s 5,871 undergraduate students will agree to pay an additional $150 per semester for their education seems simple enough. But the process by which the matter is being brought before the students has drawn sharp criticism from such fee-reform proponents as Mario Savio, the late SSU math and logic instructor and free-speech leader, one of whose last acts was to denounce the proposal.

A lawsuit filed late this week by Savio’s widow, Sebastopol resident Lynn Hollander, seeks to block the election through a court order to prohibit the release of state funds to hold the vote. Hollander’s suit charges that the administration has failed to live up to the CSU trustees’ directive that a “open, fair, and objective” process precede the voting. The suit also alleges that SSU has failed to meet the trustees’ requirement that a code of ethics to govern the activities of SSU’s Fee Advisory Committee be adopted before the FAC takes other actions.

SSU PRESIDENT Ruben Armiñana blames the need for a fee increase on the loss of $8 million a year in state funds since 1991. Eighty percent of the budget, he adds, goes to personnel costs. Rather than see the university grow to offset those losses through “economies of scale,” Armiñana wants the campus population to remain limited, offering a better education by asking the students to pay the price.

“The strong desire of almost everybody on this campus is for this institution to remain relatively small, with classes taught by the faculty member and not a teaching assistant,” he elaborates. “The fact is that being small costs more. It costs about $8,000 [a year] to educate a student in this type of environment. We get $5,700 from the state, we get $2,000 from the student. That leaves a gap of $300.”

The university’s enrollment, which is just under 7,000 this semester, is 300 more than the SSU budget anticipated, Armiñana says. But that kind of growth runs counter to the president’s vision, and he anticipates that enrollment will be capped if the fee increase passes.

“I’m told, ‘Why don’t you grow 3,000 more students but don’t grow your faculty component on the same ratio?’ You can teach those students much cheaper if instead of a class of 20, you put in a class of 100. You don’t need four faculty, you can do it with one,” Armiñana says. “But my whole argument is based on remaining small.”

With enrollment surging upward throughout the entire California University system, small-sizing will require setting a limit on admissions at SSU, something Armiñana says he is prepared to do if the referendum passes. He adds that “our niche is as a very small, residential, liberal arts college with a very strong blending of technology.”

But campus critics charge that while class sizes are holding steady, the growing size and cost of the SSU administration is contributing to the deficit. Humanities student Mette Adams contends that “since Armiñana arrived, there has been an increase of at least four administrators and vice presidents” with five and six figure salaries, plus their well-paid assistants, while departmental budgets are being cut back.

If approved, the new fee would start next fall, raising roughly $1.6 million annually, with just over half going to teacher salaries and to classroom equipment and supplies. A third would be set aside for financial aid, as required by the state, and the remainder would go to support student activities and student-run programs (8 percent), to replace course fees (4 percent), and for reserves (2 percent).

In addition, the fee increase would enhance the university’s ability to borrow a proposed $108 million, to be used to renovate classrooms, add dormitories, upgrade athletic fields, and make other improvements to the physical plant. Without the students’ vote of confidence in the vision of the administration, obtaining those loans would be compromised, says Armiñana.

If the fee increase is not approved in the two days of student election (Nov. 20-21), 125 classes could be eliminated, he adds, a figure that represents a third of those taught by temporary and part-time faculty. The remaining classes would be larger and offered less frequently, which in turn would make it more difficult for students to graduate in only four years. And the campus population would have to increase, lessening the “small and intimate feeling of SSU,” Armiñana warns.

These dire results are being challenged by a small but vocal group of students who have banded together as the League of Student Voters. “All of us feel that it sounds really great, and we want our degrees to have more worth. When you look past that, you have to look at what this means for public education,” explains LSV member Adams. “We see it as the privatization of public education.”

Armiñana’s ideal has been branded “public ivy,” an attempt to create an Ivy League­like institution within the public university framework. But Adams believes, “That is not the direction higher education should go. If you want that kind of environment, you should to a private school.” The students are also concerned that higher fees would reduce the access education for some. “A lot of people come to Sonoma State because it’s the only school they can afford,” Adams says.

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Mario Savio

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Free Speech Obit.


Mario Savio Dies

Mario Savio, a leader of the Free Speech Movement at the University of California at Berkeley in the 1960s, died Nov. 6 at Palm Drive Hospital in Sebastopol, CA after suffering a heart attack four days earlier. He was 53. Savio, a silver-haired, ponytailed math instructor at Sonoma State University, rose to public prominence as a forceful orator in the student struggle to win the right to practice political activism on the university system’s campuses.

Thirty-two years ago, Savio first made headlines and history when he climbed on top of a police car at UC Berkeley and helped launch one of the defining movements of the ’60s. His actions set the stage for the turbulent Vietnam War-era protests that helped bring an end to that conflict. Following his student activism, Savio withdrew from the frontlines of political dissent and remained out of the spotlight until just recently. Seven years ago, he moved to the county in search of “a peaceful life” and to work at Sonoma State in Northern California, where he taught mathematics and logic and led seminars in science and poetry. He purposefully kept a low profile, instead concentrating on his work and family. But the anti-immigration sentiment that led to California’s Proposition 187 prompted Savio once again to step onto the political stage. “I feel in some ways the country is being taken over by barbarians,” he told the Sonoma County Independent in February 1995, shortly before appearing as a guest speaker at the local ACLU chapter’s annual awards dinner. “The people who feel strongly that there needs to be an alternative vision have to stand up now,” he added.

Savio recently was involved in an ongoing effort to curb student fee increases at Sonoma State, and also spoke out against Proposition 209, the state initiative that may eliminate most affirmative action programs. He died just hours after state voters approved the measure, which the ACLU is challenging in the courts. “People I speak with feel, ‘Oh my God, I thought this was settled 20 years ago,’ ” he observed in the 1995 interview. “And those who are just assuming that this is going to go so quietly don’t realize what’s out there [in terms of the opposition]. … We’ve backslid. There’s no question about it. But I don’t feel this is a lost cause. On the other hand, I’m not the kind of person that needs a guarantee of success before I start out to do something. ” Savio is survived by his wife, Lynn, and their three sons. Contributions to assist the Savio family can be sent to the Savio Family Fund, c/o ILE, Sonoma State University, 1801 East Cotati Ave., Rohnert Park, CA 94928; or to the scholarship fund at Camp Winnarainbow, 1310 Henry St., Berkeley, CA 94709.

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Talking Pictures

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Tight Spots


Author, Author: Tobias Wolff sees the dignity of the human spirit

Photo by Mary Ettlinger



The appeal of the underdog

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 sees the charming new film Palookaville in the company of Tobias Wolff, the author of This Boy’s Life and many other works.

FRIDAY MORNING, the day before I am to meet with the award-winning author Tobias Wolff, I receive a call from the New York­based writer, confirming our “movie date” in San Francisco.

“Tell me again. What film is this?” he asks.

“It’s called ,” I respond, and begin to describe the storyline.

“Stop. Don’t tell me anything else,” he interrupts, kindly but firmly. “Just tell me if it’s supposed to be any good.” I reply that Palookaville–based on short stories by the late author Italo Calvino, a consummate master of the short-story form–has indeed received excellent word-of-mouth. “Good. Good,” he says. “That’s what I wanted to know.” And our conversation concludes.

The next day, as we exit the theater and stroll toward a nearby cafe, Wolff explains his aversion to knowing too much before seeing a movie.

“I like to be surprised,” he acknowledges. “If I’m in a theater and there is a preview for a film I’d like to see someday, I’ll leave until it’s over. As a writer, it’s very important to me that things come to my readers in a certain order, at a certain tempo. I am operating in the realm of that reader’s ignorance of what I’m doing.

“And I pay that compliment to moviemakers. I think that the best of them go to the same lengths to have their movies–the works of art that they make–reveal themselves, as the moviemaker believes they ought to.”

TOBIAS WOLFF, like Italo Calvino, has been called a master of the short story–by no less a master than the late short-fiction writer Raymond Carver. Though best known as the author of autobiographical works–the truthfully horrifying This Boy’s Life (Atlantic, 1989; made into an excellent film in 1993) and the Vietnam-based In Pharaoh’s Army (Knopf, 1994)–it is with his short stories that Wolff first came to prominence. His newest collection, The Night in Question (Knopf, 1996), offers 15 absorbing, often humorous tales of ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinarily tight spots. In compassionate and straightforward language, Wolff deftly examines the weird, tiny turning points on which our destinies spin.

Similarly, Palookaville is the tale of three ordinary urban underdogs, out of work and on the skids. Desperate for a break, they hatch endless schemes while flailing their way through various familial and romantic relationships. It is charming, eccentric, and very funny.

“I liked it a lot. It had a very pleasing touch,” Wolff says, tossing a trio of almonds into his mouth as our lattes arrive. “It was cartoonish, of course. The title tells you that it’s going to be. At the same time, it’s all very genuine. You felt these people all living on the edge. You looked around this place that they live in, and you understood why. There’s nothing there! There’s no work. It’s a horribly devolved culture, because of the economic hopelessness these people live in. The illegalities to which they turn are not all that funny, but it’s inevitable for a certain number of people.”

After a brief tangential discussion of underdog cinema–films such as Pulp Fiction, Fargo, even Rocky–I confess to my guest that I hold an enduring fondness for underdogs.

“We all do,” he laughs. “We identify with underdogs. I think it’s probably the case that even overdogs think of themselves as underdogs.

“We need to believe that no matter what circumstances are arrayed against us, we can overcome them,” Wolff adds. “That, by grit and will and the power of our resolve, we can overcome whatever hand is dealt to us. I think that is a notion that is very dear to us as Americans, because we are turning this country, very steadily, into a tremendously large collection of underdogs. And as we do this, we embrace more and more the mythology that it is only the underdogs’ fault that they are underdogs.

“Of course,” he says, “we really like movies about underdogs who get over it, get past it, empower themselves, and take responsibility for their circumstances. I don’t think we much like movies and books about underdogs who stay underdogs–which is what most [of them] do.

“It buys into our desire to have comforting myths about how all this works and what our responsibilities are. Our ‘responsibility’ now is merely to encourage them to take responsibility for themselves. As our brothers and sisters,” he adds wryly.

And what about Palookaville? Are there moral truths here that add anything to the underdog myth?

“Oh, I think its message is simple,” he nods. “What it’s saying, basically, is that poverty and hopelessness beget cynicism and crime–but do not make it inevitable. That such circumstances create a fertile ground for it, but that there is a human will that can refuse it–even when pushed to the wall.”

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Richard Heinberg

Food & Babies

By Gretchen Giles

THE YEAR 2050 dawns dully. The world’s economy is in a shambles, China is eating the cupboards of the global village bare, and cement shackles the land where forests once grew. God, Buddha, and Allah are dead, and the spirituality of this day is predicated upon violence, unrest, and an unceasing search for the homely basics of food and shelter. Moreover, those children awakening in homes ravaged by abuse and neglect have never had the simple vision of a deer, a hawk, or an unfettered hill.

This grim fantasy could easily be the reality of our grandchildren’s future–particularly if we continue to have the children that have the grandchildren, predicts Santa Rosa cultural ecologist Richard Heinberg in his thoughtful, frightening, crystal ball­to­action book, A New Covenant with Nature: Notes on the End of Civilization and the Renewal of Culture (Quest Books; $20).

Studying cultures as ecosystems unique to themselves, Heinberg strives to identify incidents of violence, community building, and child-rearing practices in order to assess the general health or dis-health of the collective. Not all, he reassures us, is lost for us–yet. But, he argues, the collective stasis of our agricultural- and industrial-driven society will strangle us all. There are no coulds about it, but what might result could be better than before.

An ecological call to arms, New Covenant outlines Heinberg’s proposals for the decentralization of government, the debunking of the Manifest Destiny ideals that expanded America’s borders across the continent and beyond, the de-powering of the corporate systems overtaking the world market, and a return to community efforts and values as particular as disparate, region-based monetary systems, the building of one’s own residence–preferably with a straw-bale core–and the return to the home garden as a primary source for the table.

Positing that civilization is itself a disease as virulent and self-destroying as cancer, and that industrialized peoples suffer from self-inflicted collective post-traumatic stress, Heinberg suggests that from the wreckage of what we have made for ourselves can come the beginnings of a vital and creative new society.

Authoring a monthly essay-style newsletter, The Museletter–nominated by Utne Reader magazine in 1994 for an Alternative Press Award–Heinberg has also written Memories and Visions of Paradise: Exploring the Universal Myth of a Lost Golden Age (J. P. Tacher; 1989; reprints, 1990, 1995) and Celebrate the Solstice: Honoring the Earth’s Seasonal Rhythms Through Festival and Ceremony (Quest Books; 1993). Clearly outlined and written for the lay person with no more exposure to radical ecological ideas than those set forth in McDonald’s recycling programs, New Covenant is both anarchic and exhilarating.

And Heinberg doesn’t expect anyone to follow it.

“To propose alternatives that may be politically unrealistic or economically unrealistic now, but that are biologically sound, may just be an exercise,” Heinberg says, leaning back on the couch in his modest home. “But from a larger standpoint, somebody has to do that, somebody has to be speaking for a position of biological sanity.”

Unperturbed by his pet birds flying freely through the living room, Heinberg continues. “We need to take back as much of our autonomous power as possible, which means that we need to learn to feed ourselves as much as possible, and make genuine connections among ourselves that involve patterns of mutual aid. That’s basically what we can do, because we’re planting the seeds of the new culture. The fact is that the system is far more powerful in its present form than any small group of anarchist radicals ever could be. There’s no point to it, but there is a point to demonstrating an alternative that is sustainable and is survivable. And from my experience, it’s more fun living that way.”

WHILE CITING a rising population that correlates in no manner with our ability to feed and house these hungry new mouths, Heinberg incredibly remains optimistic about the challenges that a frayed society might restitch for tomorrow.

“I think that it’s possible that we could create a culture that’s beyond anything that human beings have known up to this point,” he says, visibly excited. “Even though civilization as a form of social organization shows signs of deep woundedness and is a kind of social cancer, through this process we have nevertheless learned some things.

“We have learned about the consequences of violence, we have learned some things about ecology and sustainability that maybe indigenous cultures knew about intuitively, but that we understand in a much more concrete manner. Engaged in a process of synthesis and learning and growth, we could be involved in a culture that is more sustainable, more harmonious, more loving, and more non-violent than any in history. But we have to have those things as goals.

“Right now the goal of our culture is to make our nation wealthy,” he says simply. “We’re doing that very successfully. We don’t acknowledge that openly, but that’s what it really is. We human beings are very good at succeeding at what we set our minds to. We have set our minds to creating a technologically sophisticated militaristic culture and we’ve succeeded in spades.

“Now, if we set our minds to creating a culture that is biologically and spiritually regenerative and healthy,” he smiles, “I know that we could.”

Richard Heinberg reads from and discusses A New Covenant with Nature on Monday, Nov. 18, at Copperfield’s Books in Montgomery Village, 2316 Montgomery Drive, Santa Rosa. 7 p.m. Free. 578-8938.

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Clarence Fountain

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Shout It Out


Gemma La Mana

Boy Wonders: Clarence Fountain and the Blind Boys of Alabama began as schoolboy heroes.

The gospel according to Clarence Fountain

By Gretchen Giles

IN THE FIRST 2,000 years, there was a big change that came into the world and the world was destroyed by water. In the next 2,000 years, Jesus came, and now in this 2,000–gospel is making its mark.”

So sayeth Clarence Fountain, explaining the Holy Rolling head of popular momentum that gospel music has picked up since its peak in the ’50s, revitalized in part by Paul Simon’s 1983 hit song “Love Me Like a Rock,” and exemplified in whole by Fountain’s soulful, swinging witnessing with the Blind Boys of Alabama.

A gospel singing group whose roots stretch back to 1937 and Alabama’s Talledega Institute for the Deaf and Blind, Fountain was 12 when he and five friends–only one of whom was sighted–joined together as the Happy Land Jubilee Singers, inspired by church Sundays and the sounds of the Golden Gate Quartet broadcast weekly on the radio. Sneaking off-campus to entertain servicemen stationed near the school, the Happy Land singers eventually decided that their happy lands lay far away from the halls of education.

“One summer out of school,” remembers Fountain, speaking by phone from a Denver hotel, “we just decided that we didn’t want to go back. Our mothers and fathers had taught us how to pray, and I knew that God takes care of the little bird and the sparrow, and that he could take care of me.”

Whatever one’s spiritual beliefs, it’s difficult to deny that Fountain has been taken care of, blessed with a singing voice that soars as rough and strong as the Red Sea upon parting. Whether utilizing an a cappella sugar or swinging low in traditional call-and-response rhythm, Fountain and the Blind Boys–appearing Nov. 16 at the Mystic Theatre–well, groove.

Touring on the strength of their recent release I Brought Him with Me (House of Blues) recorded live last year at Dan Aykroyd’s House of Blues club in Los Angeles, the Blind Boys have come nearly six decades down the road from their tour-car beginnings as boy wonders.

The apex of the group’s popularity as a touring band struck in the early ’50s before such gospel-based singers as Sam Cooke and Marvin Gaye broke with tradition and started a soulful one of their own. Competing in cutting sessions with the Mississippi-based and similarly named Five Blind Boys, Fountain’s shout-downs with Mississippian Archie Brownlee became the stuff of legend, the two singers vying to best each other on stage, finally joining in powerful duets that sometimes resulted in audience members exhibiting the kind of Pentecostal-style aisle-twitching seen in congregations where snakes are handled.

By 1957, gospel was changing, with many of those singers brought up in its rich tradition choosing to witness for the almighty dollar. Not Fountain.

“This is the deal,” he says seriously. “You don’t play with God,

because there’s no straddling the fence. He doesn’t want someone who could go over to the devil’s side. He don’t want you to play to God today and to the Devil tonight. He put us here so that we could give him praise.”

Fountain broke with the group in 1969 to pursue a solo career, recording two albums for Jewel records and taking a 10-year hiatus before rejoining the group in 1980. But it was the Blind Boys’ center-stage appearance in 1983’s Obie-winning adaptation of a Sophocles play, The Gospel at Colonus, that gave the group their longevity.

With Fountain and original members Jimmy Carter and George Scott in their 70s, this worldwide sweep is the Blind Boys’, the band choosing instead to rejoin a touring production of Colonus next February for good. Fountain sees this gig as a rest. “The good part of it is that we’re getting to the masses,” he reasons. “We’re not just singing to black audiences.”

As for his decision not to jump off the gospel bandwagon, Fountain is philosophical. Admitting that he was tempted once to record a version of the Hank Williams hit “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” Fountain prayed and found the answer that he wanted. “I sing about love of the Lord,” he says. “I don’t sing about baby-love.”

The Blind Boys of Alabama play with Booker T. Jones and Chris Cobb on Saturday, Nov. 16, at 9:30 p.m. Mystic Theatre, 21 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. Tickets are $16. 765-6665.

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Inspecting Carol

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Holiday Ham


Acting Silly: Terra Shelman caresses Cameron McVeigh while Betty Cole-Graham smiles for the camera.

Photo by Jane Krensky



‘Inspecting Carol’ full of salt with just a bit of fat

By Gretchen Giles

THE HOLIDAY SEASON induces dread in theater people for more reasons than the usual drear chill of shopping on (bad) credit and the prospect of spending quality time in hot, closed rooms with those well-intended types who ruined their childhoods. Because for theater people, the holidays mean but one thing: another production of Charles Dickens’ ghost of Christmas perpetual, A Christmas Carol.

Inspecting Carol, sure to cause much hilarity at Sebastopol’s Main Street Theatre through Dec. 21, draws us into the antics of one such group, a failing theatrical troupe preparing for their 13th production of this Cratchity chestnut. And 13 is such a lucky number.

Placed in the present–ostensibly at Main Street Theatre itself–the gang is led by Zorah (the assured Terra Shelman), a feisty Lithuanian beauty running the company alone after her husband hanged himself as the result of a bad review. The troupe is flat broke and on the cusp of losing its National Endowment for the Arts grant–even though the politically conscious Zorah has hired the African-American Walter (Jonathan Taylor–who, we hope, was suffering only from opening-night jitters and will soon know his lines fluently) to play the ghosts.

Dumbing down their repertoire for years to please subscribers (even going so far as taking all the “fucks'” out of Glengarry Glenn Ross, resulting in a whistle-clean five-minute performance), the troupe is further racked by the NEA’s grant-bound request that it offer quality as well as familiarity.

An NEA inspector is due to arrive and review the group’s efforts, and when the hapless Wayne (in a wavering performance by Cameron McVeigh) wanders into the theater looking to audition, Zorah and stage manager Kevin (Ken Griffin) judge this sad sack so unlikely to be a budding thespian that they decide he must be the inspector. Groveling in several delicious ways to please him, the troupe ends up putting on a dress-rehearsal performance of A Christmas Carol so disastrous that it could have been imagined only by veteran stagehands.

So spins ’round this devilish comedy, written by playwright Daniel Sullivan four years ago during his tenure with the Seattle Repertory Theatre. Fresh and modern, poking fun at most every politically correct conceit of the ’90s, Inspecting Carol is nonetheless built upon the sturdy chassis of classic farce, setting up first-act situations that play themselves out with a pleasing predictability.

Directed by Peter Nyberg (whose efforts for the Pacific Alliance Stage Company at the Spreckels Performing Arts Center have included such cerebral hits as Oleanna, The Benefactors, Painting Churches, and A Walk in the Woods), Inspecting Carol is a tightly choreographed ensemble piece with hit-and-miss performances just a click away from being outstanding.

Among the hits is Grey Wolf’s performance as Larry. The troupe’s radical, he once performed Scrooge’s role entirely in Spanish as a protest against U.S. involvement in Central America. Wolf is actorly and energetic and completely absorbed in his role, as, in theirs, are Betty Cole-Graham as the aging Dorothy, her doting nephew Sidney (Matt Farnsworth), and the businesslike stage manager M. J. (Peggy Van Patten). Phil (Alan Kaplan, an aggrandizing hoot in a backwards back brace), suffers under the weight of the growing Luther (Derek Fischer), whose Tiny Tim still rides piggyback, though he ain’t so tiny anymore.

The slight imperfections of performance (McVeigh and Taylor fall just enough below company standards to be noticeable) don’t keep Inspecting Carol from being a refreshing holiday offering–cynical and wise, and sure to induce belly laughs at the end.

Inspecting Carol runs Thursdays-Saturdays through Dec. 21 at 8 p.m., with Sunday performances Nov. 17 at 2 p.m. and Dec. 1, 8, and 15 at 7 p.m. No show Nov. 28. 104 N. Main St., Sebastopol. Tickets are $12. 823-0177.

From the November 14-20, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Sprawl-Busting

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Sim City ’96


Janet Orsi

Big Winner: Petaluma City Councilwoman Jane Hamilton, a longtime advocate of urban growth boundaries, celebrated her re-election on Tuesday. Hamilton plans to reintroduce the UGB proposal to a more receptive council.

Voters put sprawl-busting measures to the test

By Greg Cahill

AS ANY BRIGHT KID armed with an IBM clone and a Sim City 2000 game program can attest, city planning is a real challenge when you’re trying to balance the demands of urban growth, those nebulous quality-of-life issues, and economic sustainability.

In an unprecedented move, local voters decided on Tuesday to put the challenges met in that popular municipal-planning computer game to the test on a massive scale.

With the swipe of the pen at the ballot box, Sonoma County has become the first in the nation to establish comprehensive urban growth boundaries, giving the nod to separate sprawl-busting measures in four local cities and approving a countywide measure that establishes greenbelts around those communities.

In Santa Rosa, Healdsburg, and Sebastopol, where 20-year urban growth boundaries–or UGBs–won handily, the measures struck a chord with voters wary of suburban sprawl and its potentially detrimental impacts. Each of those three measures will curtail growth-inducing annexations and challenge city planners to find creative ways to focus commercial and residential development inside existing community boundaries. In Rohnert Park, where the increasing strain on police, fire, and sewer services had become a major election issue, a more modest four-year growth limit narrowly won voter approval.

The countywide Measure D, which establishes firm community separators around any local city that adopts a UGB, passed by an overwhelming 70 percent, showing widespread public support for slow-growth policies.

Those five measures, which will shape the social and economic landscape for the next generation, reflect a backlash to encroaching big city-style crime and generic mall culture. But now that the election is over, the hard work begins, says activist Christa Shaw of Greenbelt Alliance, a Santa Rosa­based conservation organization that lobbied extensively for the measures. “We need to focus now on using the land within the boundaries efficiently,” she says. “We can continue to abuse land within those boundaries if we want, but there is a strong push under way to find creative alternatives, especially in Santa Rosa, where there is a movement to revitalize the downtown. In that area, we need to build housing for people in all walks of life so that we will have a real community that works.

“We have all the tools that we need to make it work, but we’re going to have to strive very hard.”

Proponents of UGBs had contended that the sprawl-busting growth limits would help maintain the small-town character that draws tourists and nurtures residents; prevent excessive strain on already overtaxed public services, including Santa Rosa’s troubled wastewater treatment system; and preserve the county’s endangered farmland.

The measures were opposed by the Sonoma Alliance, a Santa Rosa­based building trade industry organization, and other business groups, which fought aggressively against Santa Rosa’s UGB in the final week of the campaign. Despite its intent to save local agricultural land, the Sonoma County Farm Bureau also opposed the urban growth limits, arguing that city-centered UGBs will intensify development pressures on unprotected agricultural lands outside urban areas.

Santa Rosa voters took an apparently cautious approach to slow-growth policies, which will set firm boundaries around the county’s largest city, by electing four mostly pro-business candidates. Mayor Sharon Wright, who has been criticized for her close ties to the Santa Rosa Chamber of Commerce and Sonoma Alliance, led the crowded pack of candidates. Former grocery owner Mike Runyan, Noreen Evans, and Mike Martini will round out a newly expanded City Council.

City officials in several other local communities, including Petaluma, were closely watching the results of the races before considering their own UGBs.

Meanwhile, Windsor voters split almost evenly on Measure Q, approving by 175 votes construction of a controversial Wal­Mart at Shiloh Road and Highway 101. Critics of the project had complained that the big-box store would create unfair competition for downtown businesses, contribute to sprawl, and cost taxpayers up to $15 million in road improvements.

IN THE 5TH Supervisorial District, social services worker Mike Reilly defeated a comeback bid by former supervisor and attorney Eric Koenigshofer in a close runoff race that pitted two west county progressives against each other. Reilly will replace Ernie Carpenter, a fixture on the county board for 17 years, who announced last year that he would retire from political life. Carpenter had backed Koenigshofer in the election.

“I’m tremendously proud of the campaign that we ran,” Reilly says. “We kept it positive and focused on the issues.”

In his first year in office, Reilly expects to face “the thorny issue of increasing demands and diminishing resources for county social services,” especially the need for a comprehensive countywide homeless program. He also plans to use the momentum of the election to continue his efforts to seek protection for the beleaguered Russian River and to enhance the west county’s natural resources. “The passage of five UGBs is going to put us on the cutting edge of growth management in this country,” he observes. “We need to work to get the rest of the cities on board with that in the next few years.”

In Petaluma, voter discontent with a council majority that had supported the unpopular and ill-fated bid to swap city-owned Lafferty Ranch atop Sonoma Mountain to millionaire Peter Pfendler for his Moon Ranch swept three environmentally-minded reform candidates–incumbent Jane Hamilton, woodworker David Keller, and Planning Commission member Pamela Torliatt–into office. Incumbent Lori Shea, who vehemently supported the Lafferty swap and frequently drew the ire of critics for her contempt toward them, was ousted from office.

The balance on the council now shifts to pro-UGB forces.

“Voters have made it pretty clear how they feel about preserving Petaluma’s character,” says Hamilton, who had proposed last year that city officials place a UGB measure on the November ballot, only to be shot down by Mayor Patti Hilligoss. “I’m really looking forward to having in-depth discussions with the public about UGBs, including all the various ways to [establish them].

“The election proves that if everybody else in Sonoma County is receptive to it, we should explore it again–and I will bring it up.”

In the past, the majority of members on the Petaluma City Council had argued that the General Plan offers adequate restraints to rampant growth–an argument not borne out by the sprawling residential developments on the east side. “Having a general plan and an urban-limit line is not the same as having those boundaries locked in by voters,” Hamilton says. “Council members come and go. To say that you’ll always be able to trust the people in office not to succumb to the tremendous mounting growth pressure or to assume that it won’t touch us is simply ridiculous.

“People do need to worry about it.”

From the November 7-13, 1996 issue of the Sonoma Independent

This page was designed and created by the Boulevards team.
© 1996 Metrosa, Inc.

Earthquake Insurance

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Mario Savio

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Richard Heinberg

Food & BabiesBy Gretchen GilesTHE YEAR 2050 dawns dully. The world's economy is in a shambles, China is eating the cupboards of the global village bare, and cement shackles the land where forests once grew. God, Buddha, and Allah are dead, and the spirituality of this day is predicated upon violence, unrest, and an unceasing search for the homely...

Clarence Fountain

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Inspecting Carol

Holiday HamActing Silly: Terra Shelman caresses Cameron McVeigh while Betty Cole-Graham smiles for the camera.Photo by Jane Krensky'Inspecting Carol' full of salt with just a bit of fatBy Gretchen GilesTHE HOLIDAY SEASON induces dread in theater people for more reasons than the usual drear chill of shopping on (bad) credit and the prospect of spending quality time in...

Sprawl-Busting

Sim City '96Janet OrsiBig Winner: Petaluma City Councilwoman Jane Hamilton, a longtime advocate of urban growth boundaries, celebrated her re-election on Tuesday. Hamilton plans to reintroduce the UGB proposal to a more receptive council.Voters put sprawl-busting measures to the testBy Greg CahillAS ANY BRIGHT KID armed with an IBM clone and a Sim City 2000 game program can...
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