It’s Acid, Charlie Brown!

When my son was younger, he loved Charlie Brown and the woebegone world he inhabits. He liked jazz (courtesy of Vince Guaraldi) and he liked the fact the characters play baseball. The only cultural connective tissue I can draw between jazz and baseball is Ken Burns and his documentaries, Jazz and Baseball. If the Peanuts characters became Civil War reenactors, the kid would probably grow to believe Ken Burns and Charles Schultz were his real parents. That’s fine—they can pay for his college.

There there’s the A Charlie Brown Christmas app. It’s a quaint repurposing the source material that features some modest interactivity while flawlessly capturing the signature melancholic vibe. My kid loved the iOS version until Charlie and Linus’ arms came off.
It was a glitch but imagine trying to explain that to a horrified child. Good grief, indeed.

Later, we pored through a “Look and Find” book entitled Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown that takes scenes from A Charlie Brown Christmas with random objects thrown in (a stuffed camel, a maraca, a pipe—basically the decor of the average freshman dorm), intended for young readers to find. Seeing the kaleidoscopic holiday landscapes of the Peanuts characters’ otherwise humdrum world in static, printed form makes apparent just how psychedelic they were.

In fact, the expressions of Linus and Charlie Brown look like the precise moment they realized, “Maybe we shouldn’t have dropped that acid, Charlie Brown.” This also accounts for how Charlie ended up with such a famously crap tree. He was trippin’ balls. In fact, LSD explains a lot of the Peanuts world—from hallucinatory flashbacks of World War II (featuring trippy rotoscoped footage of D-Day reminiscent of Yellow Submarine) to kite-eating trees and Linus’ Syd Barrett-style burnout fixation on a mythical pumpkin.

Rumor is if you turn down the sound on A Charlie Brown Christmas and play the second side of Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon simultaneously, the Brain Damage track comes on just when Charlie Brown takes his totally f’d-up Christmas tree out into the winter night.

“The lunatic is on the grass” syncs wonderfully with the image of a dazed-and-confused Chuck carrying around his ailing green plant. Naturally, his eyes are big, black pupils when he stops to watch the surreal light display on Snoopy’s doghouse, then bails, disconsolate over his comparatively shabby tree. That’s when his hippy-ass pals show up, wave their arms around (“You rearrange me ’til I’m sane”) and suddenly the twig Charlie Brown ditched becomes a proper Christmas tree. Evidently, everyone is high. The kids start caroling in time with the backing vocals on the chorus. All true. Ken Burns is doing a documentary on it. It’s a holiday treat one can cherish every year (for about 8 hours at 500 micrograms).

Sonoma County Sheriff watchdog group IOLERO is underfunded

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Just as the Sheriff’s Office is facing renewed scrutiny over the Nov. 24 death of a Petaluma man, the community advisory arm of a county law enforcement watchdog held its last meeting with its founding members on Monday, Dec. 2.

Over three and a half years after its formation, the Independent Office of Law Enforcement Review and Outreach (IOLERO) remains underfunded, the office’s supporters argue. Additionally, the community advisory council has been hampered by a lack of cooperation from the Sheriff’s Office for the past year, according to former members council.

But, the public has renewed the conversation around the issue of law enforcement oversight in the wake of the death of David Ward.

Ward, 52, died at a local hospital on Wednesday, Nov. 24, about an hour after a Sheriff’s deputy attempted a controversial neck hold on him, according to an account released by the Santa Rosa Police Department.

The case, which has made headlines nationwide, began when an off-duty Santa Rosa police detective informed the Sonoma County Sheriff’s Office that he had spotted Ward’s car, which Ward had reported stolen several days earlier.

After leading law enforcement officials on a seven-minute car chase, Ward reportedly did not follow orders from law enforcement officials to exit his car.

Santa Rosa Police Lt. Dan Marincik told the Press Democrat last week that, after the chase but before the altercation began, Ward said to law enforcement officers through his car’s open window, “I can’t believe this. I’m the injured party in this. Why are you f—ing harassing me all the time.”

The situation soon escalated, according to the police department’s account. The officers hit and used a Taser on Ward. Then Blount attempted a neck restraint on Ward.

“Deputy Blount who was outside next to Ward’s driver’s door placed one of his arms around the neck of Ward and attempted to administer a carotid restraint,” the police department’s report states.

Because of its potential to injure or kill a subject if administered incorrectly, some law enforcement agencies ban the carotid hold.

And, among a long list of recommended changes to the Sheriff’s Office’s use of force policy released as a draft in November, the IOLERO community advisory council asked the sheriff’s office to prohibit all officers “from using restrictive choke holds and strangle holds including the carotid restraints.”

Karlene Navarro, who has led IOLERO since March, said on Tuesday, Dec. 10, that the Sheriff’s Office has told her they won’t implement the suggested ban of carotid restraints on a temporary or ongoing basis.

“I had a lengthy meeting with the Sheriff yesterday and we discussed a plan to research how other jurisdictions have dealt with this issue and what safer alternatives may exist,” Navarro wrote to the Bohemian. “One of the concerns is that evidence shows that an outright ban on resistance tools such as the carotid hold sometimes lead to a rise in other instances of force and more injuries.”

However, two former members of the CAC who worked on the use of force policy recommendations say that the Sheriff’s Office did not participate in the development of the CAC’s recommendations as the office had done during similar previous processes.

If they had, the CAC would have been able to consider the Sheriff’s Office’s concerns well before they issued recommendations, the council members argue.

Navarro decided not to extend the terms of any of the current members of the advisory council. As a result, the council’s Dec. 2 meeting was its last with its founding members. Navarro is currently searching for new members.

To two former CAC members who worked on the proposals, the use of force recommendation process was a frustrating communication breakdown between the Sheriff’s Office and IOLERO.

“[In previous policy recommendation processes] there was really a lot of good back and forth so that we could end up hammering out a policy that already reflected something that had a good chance of being passed by the Sheriff, because we already kind of worked out the kinks,” Cozine told the Bohemian.

After hearing the Sheriff’s Office comments, the CAC could share the results of the conversations, and the Sheriff’s thinking about the suggestions, at public meetings before issuing final recommendations. However, the relationship started to break down when the CAC started to consider the use of force policies, Cozine said.

Representatives of the Sheriff’s Office stopped coming to as many meetings and “it became clear right away that the new director and the Sheriff were not interested in having the CAC meet with them and discuss policy,” Cozine said.

Sgt. Juan Valencia, a spokesperson for the Sheriff’s Office, says that the office values the input from the IOLERO director and community advisory council, and noted that representatives of the Sheriff’s Office attended the CAC’s Dec. 2 meeting.

Navarro says that, while she wasn’t around for the entire process of creating the use of force policies, she recommended that the CAC include some of the research they had conducted about carotid restraints, instead of offering a one-line request, as they did in the case of the carotid restraint.

Navarro said she “never understood” the CAC’s previous approach to policy recommendations.

”My question to the CAC was why should the Sheriff’s Office dictate what recommendation to me?” Navarro told the Bohemian.

Navarro added that an assistant sheriff had told the CAC at a meeting in July that “I’ve already talked to you about [use of force policies].” Still, Navarro acknowledged that there was “some disagreement” among the CAC about whether the Sheriff’s Office had addressed their concerns.

Jim Duffy, another former CAC member, says that policy recommendations are “where the rubber hits the road” for a law enforcement review office because of the possibility of bringing about change.

However, in Duffy’s view, the CAC’s role is to work “hand in glove with the Sheriff’s Office” in order to craft the best recommendations. Without the opportunity to speak to the Sheriff’s Office earlier in the process, that wasn’t possible.
Underfunded, Overtasked

IOLERO came out of the community outrage and protest stemming from the 2013 death of Andy Lopez, a 13-year old boy who a sheriff’s deputy killed on Moorland Avenue, a then-unincorporated area of Santa Rosa.

After 16 months of meetings, the Community and Local Law Enforcement (CALLE) task force, a 21-member group with representatives from across the county and within the Sheriff’s Office, issued its recommendations, including forming a law enforcement review and public outreach office.

The CALLE task force recommended forming the auditor’s office based on “a desire to enhance community confidence in the delivery of law enforcement services and ultimately to bring law enforcement and the community closer together.”

Ultimately, the supervisors created the office with one full-time auditor and a full-time assistant with a promise to revisit the level of funding for the office once the first auditor advised the board on further needs.

But pretty much everyone involved in the formation and operation of IOLERO says that the state has underfunded it throughout its short life.

Caroline Bañuelos, who served as chair of the CALLE task force, told the Bohemian that she’s had concerns about the level of funding the office has received since it’s approval in late 2015.

Jerry Threet, who served as auditor between April 2016 and March 2019, says he asked for additional staff several times during his time leading the office but never received any.

Navarro, the current director of IOLERO, told KSRO last week that the office is “really underfunded and over-tasked.”



The Board of Supervisors recently allowed Navarro to hire an additional full-time staffer to help her run the office and conduct community outreach.

But Navarro says the new employee won’t begin work until January at the earliest. And, despite the additional staffer, Navarro will still be the only employee who can conduct law enforcement audits, write annual reports or make policy recommendations, tasks considered central to the office’s role.

In the county’s current recommended budget, IOLERO receives $549,793, approximately 0.3 percent the size of Sheriff’s current recommended budget, $180 million.

In a ballot measure proposal aimed at strengthening the office, Threet and other advocates propose increasing IOLERO’s funding to 1 percent of the Sheriff’s Office’s annual budget, approximately $1.8 million under the current budget.

Threet and other backers hope to get the measure, known as the Evelyn Cheatham Effective IOLERO Ordinance, on the county’s November 2020 ballot.
Outside Eyes

Done well, the benefits of community involvement and review could make the Sheriff’s Office stronger and more popular with the community it serves, Cozine says.

One possible benefit could be saving the county money from lawsuit settlements.

“I really think that [increased spending on oversight] would be saved by the county in spending on lawsuits,” Cozine told the Bohemian. “If you have a strong and robust oversight office, you are going to have a well-functioning and best-practicing law enforcement organization.”

In 2018, the county agreed to pay a $3 million settlement to Andy Lopez’s family after years of fighting a case that ultimately went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Charlies Blount, the deputy who attempted a carotid hold on Ward in November, reportedly has a legal history of his own.

In 2015, the county settled a court case about a 2011 excessive force case involving Blount and other deputies for $375,000, according to KQED.

Another attorney told KQED that her client settled a 2016 case involving Blount for a “low monetary amount.”

Of course, settlement amounts do not include the cost of county staff time and outside legal fees.

Sonoma Watchdog Group Calls For Carotid Hold Ban

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A Sonoma County Sheriff’s Deputy’s use of a controversial restraint may have resulted in a Petaluma man’s death after an early-morning car chase last Wednesday.

Deputy Charlie Blount implemented a carotid restraint hold after David Ward, 52, reportedly fled from a sheriff’s deputy and two Sebastopol Police Department officers, according to an account of the event published by the Santa Rosa Police Department.

After a seven-minute car chase, Ward reportedly did not follow orders from law enforcement officials to exit his car. After the officers hit and used a Taser on Ward, the deputy attempted to use a carotid restraint hold on Ward.

“Deputy Blount who was outside next to Ward’s driver’s door placed one of his arms around the neck of Ward and attempted to administer a carotid restraint,” the police department’s report states.

Ward’s step-sister told the Press Democrat that Ward had “difficulty breathing and walking” due to injuries sustained after he was hit by a drunken driver twenty years ago.

In implementing the hold, an officer places the subject’s neck in the crook of their elbow, applying pressure on the subject’s carotid arteries which run parallel to the windpipe. Because the technique restricts blood flow to the head – the carotid arteries supply between 70-80 percent of blood flow to the brain, according to a California law enforcement training manual – the subject falls unconscious quickly.

The 2005 training manual also states that “The carotid restraint control hold should not be confused with the bar-arm choke hold or any other form of choke hold where pressure is applied to restrict the flow of air into the body by compression of the airway at the front of the throat.”

However, the risk of death or serious injury associated with improper use of the carotid hold have led to discussion about its use should still be allowed.

On Monday, the community input arm of the county’s Independent Office of Law Enforcement Review and Outreach (IOLERO) unveiled suggested changes to the Sheriff’s Office use of force policy, including banning the office’s use of the carotid hold.

“This most recent incident is a wake up call for the Sheriff’s Office, that they really have to look at this particular aspect of use of force,” the IOLERO Community Advisory Council’s chair, Rick Brown, said during the meeting, according to the Press Democrat.

However, the council can only recommend policy changes. Sonoma County Sheriff Mark Essick will make the final decision.

As of Tuesday, Essick had not made a decision on whether or not to continue the use of the carotid hold, according to the Press Democrat.

“It’s a use of force tool like any tool,” Essick told the paper. “It has its advantages and it has its disadvantages.”

Sheriff’s Use of Force Policy

The office’s use of force policy lays out rules for the implementation of a carotid hold. The office’s full policy, including a section on carotid holds, is available here.

“The proper application of the carotid control hold may be effective in restraining a violent or combative individual. However, due to the potential for injury, the use of the carotid control hold is subject to the following [conditions],” the policy states.

The “hold may only be used when … [circumstances] indicate that such application reasonably appears necessary to control a subject in any of the following circumstances:

1. The subject is violent or physically resisting.

2. The subject, by words or actions, has demonstrated an intention to be violent and reasonably appears to have the potential to harm deputies, him/herself or others.”

According to the office’s use of force policy, a deputy must successfully complete “Office-approved training in the use and application of the carotid control hold” before using the hold in the field.

If a deputy does use or attempt the hold, they must immediately inform their supervisor.

Essick told the Press Democrat that deputies use the carotid hold is “rare.”

Essick reportedly referred questions about whether deputy Blount had undergone the proper training to the Santa Rosa Police Department, which is conducting an independent investigation into the case.

Finding Hanukkah in the Happy Holidays

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer blares over the loudspeaker as I wade through a sea of Christmas trees and Frosty the Snowman figurines. A store clerk leads me to a shelf of scented cinnamon tapers, but the candles I’m looking for are for lighting my menorah, a candelabrum used by Jews for more than 2,000 years.

“Did you try the garden center?” he suggests with a shrug.

Another clerk directs me to the ethnic-foods aisle packed with matzos and gefilte fish—staple foods for Pesach (Passover), a springtime holiday. I’m ready to call it quits on my detective work when I discover an entire table of Hanukkah merchandise. Here are window decals of dreidels, cookie cutters shaped in the Star of David and plastic plug-in menorahs made in China. There’s even KosherLand, a Jewish-themed board game modeled after Candy Land, with Marching Latkes taking the place of Lord Licorice.

Tossing aside bags of gold-wrapped gelt, or chocolate coins, I hit the jackpot with boxes of blues-and-whites. The candles are half-price—but the eight-night Festival of Lights hasn’t even begun.

Every year a similar scenario unfolds. Of the 19 local stores I once surveyed, only 10 sold Hanukkah candles. Meanwhile, Santa’s surplus overwhelms shoppers as early as Halloween—a confirmation of Yuletide’s prominence during the so-called Holiday Season.

I shouldn’t be surprised by the scanty representation. According to a 2018 commissioned report by the Jewish Community Federation, the North Bay (Sonoma, Napa, and Marin counties) comprises just 13 percent of the Bay Area’s Jewish population of 350,000. Might these statistics account for the paltry acknowledgement of my faith?

Hanukkah candles, sold as commodities, certainly look pretty displayed on a windowsill—similar to the twinkling lights on an evergreen. Yet they aren’t meant to be decorative. They’re symbolic. The flames stand as emblems of religious freedom, a remembrance of an ancient uprising against oppression.

Translated from the Hebrew as “dedication,” Hanukkah commemorates a successful revolt led by Judah the Maccabee in the second century B.C.E. As the tale of triumph is told, Antiochus IV Epiphanes, the Hellenistic Greek king of the Seleucid Empire who ruled the Syrian throne, enforced brutal decrees that required Jewish worship of other deities. His armies ransacked the Second Temple in Jerusalem and stole its ritual objects, including Torah scrolls and a gold menorah. Upon repossessing and ritually cleansing the sanctuary, the Maccabees discovered what is now known as the miracle of Hanukkah: a vial of oil, enough to illuminate the eternal flame for only one day, lasted for eight.

It wasn’t the military coup or the miracle, but the candle-lighting ritual, that captivated me as a young child. I recall the warmth of my mother’s illumined face as she used the ninth “helper” candle, called a shammes, to ignite the others, then recited the blessings over them. Each night the number grew by one, until all eight shone in the darkness. Our family of four ate potato latkes cooked in oil. We played games of dreidel, gambling for gelt using the Hebrew letters on the four-sided spinning top, while the last flame flickered. The candles held the promise of returning light during the dimmest time of year.

By lighting the menorah, Jews perform a mitzvah, translated as a commandment or social obligation of communal value. The practice connects us to a Jewry of nearly 15 million worldwide. Kindling these oil lamps is a holy act.

Hanukkah, however, is not considered one of the high holy days; it holds far less religious significance than Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, which mark the Jewish new year during the Days of Awe. So how was it elevated from a simple domestic ceremony to the most widely celebrated Jewish holiday?

Traditionally in Europe, parents would present tokens of money to children at Hanukkah. We added gift giving in the late 19th century, after Christmas became a federal U.S. holiday. Initially, the push to heighten Hanukkah was an effort “to resist assimilation to American culture so influenced by Christianity,” according to Dianne Ashton, a professor of religion studies at Rowan University, in her book Hanukkah in America: A History. Then, with the increase in post–World War II consumerism, Hanukkah followed suit with its embellished status: an “effective means of making [Jewish kids] immune against envy of the Christian children and their Christmas,” according to What Every Jewish Woman Should Know, a book published in 1941.

Growing up in the 1970s, my older brother and I wrapped homemade gifts for our parents—a macrame cup holder or hand-drawn coupon for a car wash. Each evening we opened a modest present until the eagerly anticipated final night, reserved for something more substantial like a baby doll or a model airplane kit.

“No fair!” a friend complained. “You get stuff for eight days and we only have one.”

While I knew that Santa did not exist, I found myself pining for what he delivered down her chimney. The pack of synthetic yarn ribbons I received, which frayed like my frizzy hair, could not compare to the Barbie Dreamhouse towering under her tree. Suddenly Hanukkah did not shine as brightly. My parents might have argued for its separate-but-equal status; but I realized, at least in material terms, that the holidays weren’t equivalent.

In 2018 Americans spent an average of $1,007 per person on food, gifts, and decorations during the Winter Holidays, notes The National Retail Federation. This year they predict that number to increase between 3.8 and 4.2 percent, with holiday sales totaling upwards of $728 billion.

Hanukkah banners, garlands, cardboard cutouts, sequin-sprinkled ornaments—even inflatables for the front lawn—have joined the party. “If you’ve been lusting over the luscious greenery in your neighbor’s Christmas decorations, consider a natural take on a Star of David for your Hanukkah display,” states an article on decor ideas in Southern Living magazine. “Our stock of oversize decorations puts the reason for the season on full display,” promises Zion Judaica, an online superstore with a mission to “make these eight special nights bigger and brighter than ever before.”

I wonder if these efforts to emulate America’s biggest consumer holiday succeed in affirming Jewish identity. Or does the attempt to rival Christmas with its commodification actually diminish Hanukkah’s significance and blur the distinction between Jews and gentiles?

Years ago I worked at a school where a first-grade teacher directed her students to write “Dear Santa” letters in class. The compulsory activity put a Jewish boy in tears. I tried to address the inappropriateness of the assignment—how it ostracized the few non-Christian students. Why enhance their sense of difference during a time of year that magnified their minority status?

“Well, Santa isn’t really Christmas,” the teacher replied, in defense of secular joy.

She didn’t understand that Old Saint Nick wasn’t in the boy’s holiday lexicon. The remedy: he could write to a relative instead! But Jewish families don’t consider whether children on their gift list are naughty or nice: there was no substitute for the man in a red suit.

That year my students gave me enough presents to fill a sleigh: CDs, soaps, coffee, cookies, lotions, chocolate, a jewelry box, gift certificates, a writing journal and bottles of wine. Plus, a sparkly ornament for my nonexistent tree.

“You don’t want to wait until Christmas to open them all?” a colleague asked.

“It’s hard being a Jew at Christmas,” one third grader explained to her classmates after sharing a picture book about a girl who asks her parents for a Hanukkah bush. Although they refuse to grant her wish, they do help her to reconcile her conflicted feelings.

I could relate. My mother, who agreed to my father’s stipulation that his children be raised Jewish, converted from Christianity after my brother was born. (“I look forward to becoming a Yiddishe Mama,” she wrote to my grandparents.) When I turned 11, my parents divorced. For the next few years, she subjected us to a clandestine Christmas. Our frenzied exchanges felt as hollow as the giant stockings she quilted, which we were now obligated to fill.

My stepsister, who lived in an interfaith household that blended both customs, married a man who also converted. Together, they’ve raised two Jewish children in San Francisco. Each year they string dreidel-shaped lights across a mantel bedecked with blue-and-silver wrapped presents and multiple menorahs aglow. She considers these items, however, to be conciliatory. Putting less emphasis on material objects and more focus on “togetherness,” she says it’s the family time that matters.

I, too, am eager to reclaim the sanctity of those earlier traditions—without all the trappings. My brother, on the other hand, switched to Christmas just six years after his Bar Mitzvah. At least his three boys don’t have to hide their tree from their dad. I just hope they know what Hanukkah candles look like.

This year’s Hanukkah begins at nightfall on Dec. 22.

Cash Crop

The largest, most-respected organic outdoor cannabis competition in the world returns to the North Bay this month when the 16th annual Emerald Cup returns to the Sonoma County Fairgrounds on Dec. 14 and 15.

Encompassing over 500 contest entries from sungrown flower cultivators and currently licensed California cannabis businesses, the Emerald Cup is the premiere place to support local, small-business growers and vendors still struggling to make their way in California’s newly legalized cannabis industry.

“I wish I could say it’s been an easier year (than 2018), but it’s actually in most ways been even harder for most people,” says Emerald Cup founder and producer Tim Blake. “Continued over-taxation, restrictions, lots of regulations—it’s a perfect storm. You’ve got not enough dispensaries opened up, so you don’t have enough places to sell product to, you don’t have enough product makers because they haven’t got their license from the state.”

While Blake foresees the market doing well in the next few years, he cites the state’s inability to be proactive in helping cannabis businesses thrive as a major problem for small-time merchants.

“The Cup’s going to do well this year, but we’re still watching people go through a lot of challenges,” he says.

As the Cup’s grown in size and status over the years, it’s been a boon to small farmers and makers who enter the respected contest, as well as a magnet for larger brands to make a splash on the scene.

“One cool thing that we’ve been able to maintain in the contest is the personal-use category,” says Associate Producer Taylor Blake. “The Cup started as a competition among friends—there were no brands—and it was important that a grower who wanted to have their six plants in their backyard could participate in the Emerald Cup. Last year was our first year with the personal-use category and we just did it with flowers. This year we are extending that to Solventless Concentrates, which we are excited about and had a lot of interest in last year.”

In addition to the cannabis competition, this year’s Cup boasts musical acts from headliners like dancehall-inspired indie-pop star Santigold and reggae legends Steel Pulse (see music, pg 22), as well as informative sessions on everything from federal cannabis legalization efforts to regenerative agriculture to psychedelics and plant medicine.

This year also features special guest Tommy Chong, who will receive the Willie Nelson Lifetime Achievement Award.

“We’re excited to have Tommy come and join us,” says Tim Blake. “He’s been an amazing advocate for our industry and our community.”

Other Emerald Cup highlights include live art, expos, organic food and a marketplace packed with vendors.

“Between all the speakers, music, VIPs and community; we’ve gone to great lengths to make it a unique experience,” Blake says. “Knowing that the whole tribe comes in to hang for the weekend is what it’s all about.”

Botanical Bus Herb Clinic arrives soon

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Eighty-six-year-old Georgina Rivas grew up in the Peruvian countryside. Her mother’s pregnancy was difficult and Rivas owes her very life to herbal medicine.

Now, Rivas shares her lifelong herbal knowledge with her Sonoma County community. Another Sonoma County woman, also from Peru, struggles with intense anxiety. The deep herbal knowledge of her own ancestors has proven to be the right medicine for her.

These women are part of a growing community coordinated by the Botanical Bus Bilingual Mobile Herb Clinic. The mobile clinic has coordinated free group workshops for four years in community gardens across Sonoma County, where it facilitates the sharing of indigenous herbal knowledge via recipe sharing and herbal remedy-making. In Spring 2020, it will fundraise for the bus itself, which will include a tincture bar and provide mobile integrative medicine on a sliding scale to workshop participants and others.

Other programs include medicine gardens and the Promotora Program, (“promotora” meaning “community health worker”) which empowers women to lead culturally-relevant wellness workshops in their communities.

“It’s a large percentage of immigrant women at the workshops, and usually the remedies or recipes they are sharing are plant medicine from the land where they were born and raised,” says Jocelyn Boreta, cofounder of the Botanical Bus. “Herbal medicine is a pillar of what we’re doing because herbal medicine works and also because herbal medicine in the Latinx population is really alive and culturally relevant.”

According to Boreta, who worked with Global Exchange in the Fair Trade program for 10 years, many immigrants come to the United States with a knowledge base and cultural integrity that the next generation can lose.

“We are empowering a traditional form of medicine that connects people to place too—maybe it’s even connecting them to the place where they came from,” she says.

Participants in the workshops include all ages and generations, from service and agricultural workers to students, cooks, herbalists and organizers, all sharing what they know with each other. They meet in gathering places that are already community hubs for participants: Latinx
health and resource centers, social justice organizations and community gardens.

The Botanical Bus is unique in that it doesn’t provide resources top-down but enables people to share the knowledge they have with each other.

“We are not trying to ‘serve underserved populations.’ It’s an empowerment project,” Boreta says. “Even a really progressive free clinic is passing out limited resources from the top-down. In this time of deepening disparity, the people’s knowledge is an unlimited resource.”

The workshops have no teachers, are two hours long and begin in the garden with everyone sharing their own plant knowledge, then making a remedy like a sleep tincture or an immunity elixir. Every workshop has a different theme, defined by the group at the beginning of the year. Trauma, stress and sleep emerge as top health concerns.

According to A Portrait of Sonoma County: Sonoma County Human Development Report commissioned by the County of Sonoma Department of Health Services, Latinxs outlive white populations despite having the least access to healthy food, clean air and outdoor space, all of which are social determinants for good health. Furthermore, although second-generation immigrants generally have more access to health resources than their parents, they have lower health outcomes.

Since the 2017 North Bay fires, the Botanical Bus has partnered with La Luz Center, Corazon Healdsburg and North Bay Organizing Project to host clinics throughout Sonoma County. During the Kincaid fire, the Botanical Bus distributed donations of herbal syrups and teas for stress, sleep and lung support to recipients at evacuation centers.

It all began in a garden.

“The birth of the organization was really organic; women coming together,” Boreta says.

She and Angeles Quiñones from Farming for Health connected by talking in a community garden about remedies and recipes for wellness. After the Tubbs fire, Boreta, Quiñones and Lily Mazzarella, owner of Farmacopia, an Integrative Health Clinic in Santa Rosa, decided the time was right to begin the nonprofit Botanical Bus.

The goals stated on their website for 2020 are ambitious—fundraise and launch the bus itself; engage 1,000 wellness-workshop participants; empower a team of six promotoras (community health workers) to lead wellness workshops; connect 650 mobile-clinic clients with holistic health practitioners and cultivate three community-medicine gardens.

It’s a positive path to wellness on many levels. Second-generation Latinxs’ benefit healthwise from their ancestors’ knowledge, while immigrant women like Rivas also benefit from sharing their knowledge with the next generations.

“It’s really empowering people and that’s the main goal,” Boreta says. “They leave feeling empowered to be healthy.”

Bus Stops

To celebrate meeting their crowdfunding goal, a “dine and donate” fundraiser for the Botanical Bus commences at 5pm Wednesday, Dec. 4 at Fern Bar 6780 Depot St., Suite 120, Sebastopol. Proceeds from the dinner will benefit the Botanical Bus until 10 pm. The Botanical Bus organizers will be at the event from 5–7pm for meet-and-greets.

The Botanical Bus Workshop, Corazon Healdsburg (in the Healdsburg Community Garden “Jardin de Sanacion”), 1557 Healdsburg Avenue, Healdsburg, every first Saturday of the month.

The Botanical Bus Workshop, Sonoma Centro, La Luz, 17560 Greger St., Sonoma, every last Friday of the month.

For more information, visit
thebotanicalbus.org

Stay or Go

In Noah Baumbach’s Marriage Story, anguished husband Charlie (Adam Driver) notices a throw-pillow in the office of his saber-toothed L.A. divorce lawyer, Jay (Ray Liotta). It’s embroidered with the words “Eat, Drink and Remarry.” Looking for repeat business?

Baumbach previously directed The Squid and the Whale, about the tumult between a divorced pair (Laura Linney, Jeff Daniels); if there are similar autobiographical elements here, it proves we cannot learn from our parents’ mistakes. In voiceover, Nicole (Scarlett Johansson) reads aloud the things she loves about her husband—the way he came out of a Midwestern background and became “more New Yorker than New Yorkers.” Charlie is a theatrical director, but his wife composed this apparent love note as part of a counseling program carried out just before the divorce. The idea is that if Nicole writes down the reasons she married Charlie, it’ll make the exit graceful. No such luck.

The quarrel between this couple is reminiscent of the split found in Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. He’s a serious New Yorker, she’s L.A. born and bred; her mother (the ageless Julie Hagerty) was an actress, as is her sister (Nurse Jackie‘s Merritt Wever, very funny). The split becomes irrevocable when Nicole gets a role in a TV show, leaving Charlie to take his production of Electra to Broadway. This leaves custody battles for their kid Henry (Azhy Robertson) who is not above manipulation in dealing with his parents.

Baumbach finds new depths in his performers—in Driver’s wounded side and Johansson’s macho side. The passing of various Halloweens gives this film a sense of time’s passage. One year, Johansson dresses up as Let’s Dance-era Bowie: the 1983 edition of Bowie, the year before she was born.

Marriage Story authentically portrays that aspect of the tragedy of breakup wherein the person wounding you is the person to whom you once looked for solace. In the end, the bond between Charlie and Nicole endures, through a matched pair of songs from Sondheim’s Company—one sung at an L.A. family party, the other at a Broadway bar. Marriage Story would be the worst first-date movie ever, but more seasoned couples can see it and huddle for comfort.

‘Marriage Story’ is playing in select theaters and is available to stream on Netflix Dec. 6.

Mass Appeal

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Even if Steel Pulse had called it quits after releasing their debut album Handsworth Revolution and its subsequent single “Ku Klux Klan,” they still would have earned their place as the most politically charged reggae band to emerge from England.

As the sons of working-class West Indian immigrants, the young Birmingham musicians were naturally drawn to the nascent Rock Against Racism movement of the late 1970s. Soon they were sharing bills with the Clash, the Specials and other like-minded bands, while expanding their own Bob Marley-influenced sound to incorporate elements of jazz, Latin and punk music. Onstage, they crossed even more boundaries, stirring up controversy as they donned white hoods and robes to perform “Ku Klux Klan” in punk clubs and on BBC Television.

“We tend to be more direct in what we’re saying,” says Steel Pulse co-founder and lead vocalist David Hinds. “If you listen to Bob Marley’s lyrics, he never really mentions specific individuals or collectives. Whereas I’ll write about the Ku Klux Klan or the National Front. It’s like the iron fist in the velvet glove—and then what softens that blow is the music.”

As time went on, Steel Pulse created a different kind of controversy. By the mid-’80s, the band’s resistance to record-industry pressures weakened. Meanwhile, the success of perfectly polished singles like “Steppin’ Out” prompted accusations of selling out. It took more than a decade for Steel Pulse to return to its militant roots on albums like 1997’s Rage and Fury and 2004’s African Holocaust, after which they unceremoniously dropped out of sight for 15 years.

“I was going through some domestic issues at the time, and I just got up and left England and started hoboing—for want of a better phrase—around the world,” Hind says.

Against all expectations, Steel Pulse have now returned with Mass Manipulation, a 17-track condemnation of police brutality, human trafficking and other social injustices. Hinds and co-founding keyboardist Selwyn Brown deliver a lyrically uncompromising and musically engaging album that stands alongside the band’s best.

Steel Pulse performs at the Emerald Cup on Saturday, Dec. 14, at the Sonoma County Fairgrounds, 1350 Bennett Valley Rd., Santa Rosa. $90 and up. theemeraldcup.com/attend.

Locals support homeless

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Sonoma County will have one less winter shelter to offer respite to people living on the street through the rainy and cold months this year.

In recent years, the county has contracted with the California Military Guard to offer beds at the armory building behind the Santa Rosa Junior College’s main campus between November and March. This year, the state is using the space for another purpose, according to Michael Gause, who leads the Sonoma County Community Development Commission’s efforts to house people experiencing homelessness.

One thing is for sure: The loss significantly reduces the number of spaces for people seeking refuge from winter conditions, leaving approximately 100 more people without shelter this winter.

All told, there are an estimated 2,951 people experiencing homelessness in Sonoma County, according to a count conducted by the county in January 2019.

Nearly 2,000 of those people are without shelter, meaning that they are sleeping on the street, in a car or in another improvised structure. The roughly 1,000 sheltered people at the time of the count include those staying in emergency shelters.

The county offers 699 shelter beds year-round. With the addition of 184 winter beds for the next few months, they are offering 883 beds this winter, Gause told the Bohemian.

Last year, the Armory offered about 115 additional beds.

Permanent supportive housing is not included in the homeless count because the solutions are, hopefully, permanent, according to Gause.

All in all, that leaves about 2,000 without shelter this winter.

Outpouring of Support

A sizable portion of that number have gathered in an encampment along the Joe Rodota Trail on the outskirts of Santa Rosa.

In recent months, dozens of people without homes have gathered in the encampment, which is visible from Highway 12.

For a few reasons, the encampment has garnered a lot of public attention this year. And, although not all of the reactions have been good, the publicity has resulted in an outpouring of support, says Adrienne Lauby, a co-founder of Homeless Action!, a local activist group.

The Sonoma County Bicycle Coalition gathered more than 1,300 signatures calling on the county to “legally and humanely” relocate the residents of the encampment to a “safe, sanctioned location.” Meanwhile, members of a new Facebook group, Sonoma County Acts of Kindness, have focused on raising funds and donating goods to those living along the trail.

It all culminated at a Sonoma County Board of Supervisors meeting on Tuesday, Nov. 19. After a lengthy debate, advocates won a concession from the county: Permission from the Parks Department to install temporary toilets for use by residents.

Last week, activists put in eight portable toilets, funded by a range of Sonoma County residents, to serve the encampment, which groups estimate to have more than 150 residents.

This result may not have happened in years past. After the county removed residents of a predecessor encampment from the Joe Rodota Trail last year, several residents of the encampment, activists and attorneys sued the county and other local agencies, arguing that the agencies should have to offer the residents of the trail a suitable alternative to living on the street before forcing them to move.

Ultimately, Federal Judge Vince Chhabria brokered a temporary deal between the parties. The current agreement lasts until June 30, 2020.

It seems that the combination of public calls for a long-term solution, the outpouring of public support and the legal agreement has created a new conversation around the Joe Rodota Trail encampment, Lauby says.

Still, it’s unclear what Sonoma County can or will do for the roughly 2,000 other people experiencing homelessness throughout the county.

Climate rally planned

This week, dozens of heads of state joined thousands of attendees in Madrid to discuss the ever-grimmer reality of our heating planet at the two-week COP25 climate conference.

On Monday, U.N. Secretary-General Antonio Guterres launched the gathering with a grim message. Previous efforts to curb climate change were “utterly inadequate” and the effects of global warming could soon pass a “point of no return.”

It’s heavy, overwhelming stuff, but Sonoma County activists are doing their part to draw attention to the problem. This Friday, Dec. 6, climate activists will take to the streets of Santa Rosa for a two-part protest to draw attention to the unfolding threats of Climate Change.

At noon, they will stage “die-ins for life” at six local schools and Santa Rosa’s Courthouse Square. Then, between 5:00pm and 7:30pm, they will march through downtown, culminating in a climate vigil in Courthouse Square.

The Sonoma County chapter of the Sunrise Movement, a recently formed group intent on holding politicians accountable for inaction on climate change, organized the actions.

Guterres agrees about the root problem.

“What is still lacking is political will,” he said at the start of the climate conference. “Political will to put a price on carbon. Political will to stop subsidies on fossil fuels. Political will to stop building coal power plants from 2020 onwards. Political will to shift taxation from income to carbon. Taxing pollution instead of people.”

I, Robot

I ‌use artificial intelligence the way an amputee might use a prosthetic leg. Without it, I have nothing to stand on. I rely on smart devices for nearly every conceivable intellectual task. Take the phone from my cold dead hand and you will essentially possess the central processing unit of my otherwise enfeebled mind (and maybe some embarrassing selfies).

In short, without smart devices I’m dumb. I know implicitly that my over-reliance on them is playing with Promethean fire. If I don’t get burned outright, then it’s only a matter of time before the robots chain me to a rock so that I may have my liver plucked at by vultures for all eternity. The irony that my wine-marinated liver will prove a delicacy to scavengers is almost as galling as the foreknowledge that the robots will soon take my job.

AI scribes are already “writing” financial and sports stories, pairing numbers and stats with boilerplate and spraying the web with search-engine-optimized “content.” That word, the c-word, that’s where we went wrong—when we let the system commodify our work as fodder to fill the gaping maw of infinitely-expanding cyberspace. Feeding that beast takes a lot of work, which is why labor-saving gadgets are such an intrinsic part of my process. The AI on my phone, for example, not only captured my voice dictating these words but it transcribed them into the text that you’re now reading. The medium is the message and data rates may apply.

At every step along my dark path to pixels and print, a digital presence lurks, listening, watching, and learning. My every tic, from utterance to keystroke, is cataloged and rendered through the algorithm and will surely produce a digital facsimile of me in the very near future. This sucks because the field is competitive enough—the last thing I need is to compete with a better, stronger, faster version of me. Don’t we already have Millennials for that?

I first noticed the AI was onto to me when autocorrect began to catch up with the esoterica I shoehorn into my vocabulary (why use a five-cent word when a 50-cent word adds ten times the literary value?). Now, the apps I use both anticipate and suggest complete turns of phrase—like this one: Bow down to your robot overlords. Weird, huh?

In a retelling of John Henry vs. The Mighty Steam Drill, my colleagues at Cards Against Humanity (the party game for horrible people) were recently pitted against an AI in competition for their writing jobs. Who could create the more popular pack of humorous cards? “On the line,” wrote Nick Stack on The Verge, “are $5,000 bonuses for every employee if team human comes up victorious, or heartless termination in the event the AI takes the top spot.”

Guess who won? No, seriously guess—I can’t find the answer anywhere. Even if the writers at CAH won, the war is probably already lost. That’s what autocorrect insists every time I try to write otherwise.

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Stay or Go

In Noah Baumbach's Marriage Story, anguished husband Charlie (Adam Driver) notices a throw-pillow in the office of his saber-toothed L.A. divorce lawyer, Jay (Ray Liotta). It's embroidered with the words "Eat, Drink and Remarry." Looking for repeat business? Baumbach previously directed The Squid and the Whale, about the tumult between a divorced pair (Laura Linney, Jeff Daniels); if there are...

Mass Appeal

Even if Steel Pulse had called it quits after releasing their debut album Handsworth Revolution and its subsequent single "Ku Klux Klan," they still would have earned their place as the most politically charged reggae band to emerge from England. As the sons of working-class West Indian immigrants, the young Birmingham musicians were naturally drawn to the nascent Rock Against...

Locals support homeless

Sonoma County will have one less winter shelter to offer respite to people living on the street through the rainy and cold months this year. In recent years, the county has contracted with the California Military Guard to offer beds at the armory building behind the Santa Rosa Junior College's main campus between November and...

I, Robot

I ‌use artificial intelligence the way an amputee might use a prosthetic leg. Without it, I have nothing to stand on. I rely on smart devices for nearly every conceivable intellectual task. Take the phone from my cold dead hand and you will essentially possess the central processing unit of my otherwise enfeebled mind (and maybe...
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