Readers Picks: Cannabis

Best Hydroponic Supply Store

Napa

Endless Green

Sonoma

The GrowBiz

Best Pipe Shop

Napa

Starbuzz Smoke Shop

Sonoma

The Mighty Quinn

Best Mobile Delivery

Sonoma

SPARC

Best Medical Dispensary

Sonoma

Mercy Wellness of Cotati

Best Cannabis Label

Sonoma

AYA Sonoma Cannabis Co.

Best CBD Product

Sonoma

CBD Sample Pack,
Care by Design

Best Cannabis
Body Care

Napa

Lavender Balm, Napa Valley Cannabalm

Sonoma

CBD Pain Cream,
Care by Design

Best Edibles

Sonoma

Solful

Best Therapeutic Product

Napa

Rosemary Balm,
Napa Valley Cannabalm

Sonoma

Healing Balm,
Fiddler’s Greens

Best Cannabis
Event

Napa

Cannabis & Health:
A Scientific Approach,
Napa Valley Cannabis Association

Sonoma

The Emerald Cup

Best Cannabis Attorney

Napa

Danny Zlatnik,
Dickenson
Peatman & Fogarty

Sonoma

Omar Figueroa, Law Offices of Omar Figueroa

Best Of 2019

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Best of the Best

Welcome. We’re once again celebrating the best of the North Bay, with our epic Readers Poll and extensive selection of Writers Picks. It never gets old, putting out these annual issues that celebrate the best of the best of Sonoma and Napa counties. In a world of impermanence, it’s good to know that there’s always another Best Of issue right around the corner—and that each year, new businesses and people always seem to refresh the proverbial aquifer of greatness.

From Best Doctor to Best Winetasting, we’ve got it covered, and then some, across our various categories. Our winners are a reflection of the community at large that chooses them—and represent the day-to-day goodness that makes living around here a Best Of experience in its
own right.

This year, Sonoma tattoo artist Shotsie Gorman returns to the Best Of fore to illustrate our cover—may you soar like a hawk through this amazing issue! Rory McNamara was our go-to photographer this year and the Bohemian writers who contributed are Aiyana Moya, Alex T. Randolph, Charlie Swanson, David Templeton, Gary Brandt, James Knight, Jonah Raskin, Stett Holbrook, Thomas Broderick, Tom Gogola and the late Tokey McPuffups. Thanks to all who contributed.

Spring Screens

With March well under way and spring around the corner, the clouds are starting to clear in the North Bay, meaning the stars are coming out to shine. From now through May, several of Hollywood’s top actors, emerging filmmakers, gifted documentarians and others will make their way to Sonoma and Marin for special screenings and festivals offering one-of-a-kind film experiences for local audiences.

‘High Fidelity’

First up, one of the most recognizable faces in movies for the last 30 years, John Cusack comes to Santa Rosa to screen and discuss his hit comedy High Fidelity on March 15 at the Luther Burbank Center for the Arts.

The story of record shop owner Rob Gordon (Cusack) recounting his top five failed relationships is set against a backdrop of over 70 pop songs spanning multiple decades and genres of music; the film has become one of the most beloved romantic comedies for music and film lovers alike. Cusack not only starred in the movie, he co-wrote and co-produced it, bringing the novel by Nick Hornby to life.

“I had made a bunch of films with Joe Roth, who ran Disney,” says Cusack. “And I had just made the first film I wrote and produced called Grosse Pointe Blank. We had a really good experience, and we had a big soundtrack on that movie. Kathy Nelson, who was the music supervisor, was a real wizard.”

After the success of Grosse Pointe Blank, Cusack turned to High Fidelity and brought Nelson along for another music-centric film. But this time, the music took on a physical role, with Cusack and his friends (Jack Black and Todd Louiso) hanging out in a record shop and debating various top five lists like “Top five recording artists” and “Top five musical crimes perpetrated by Stevie Wonder in the ’80s and ’90s.”

High Fidelity also told a compelling story about love and relationships, as Rob attempts to figure out where he went wrong in the past and fix his current romantic situation, while also reorganizing his record collection autobiographically.

“I’m not as much of a collector in person, but I certainly value music the same way,” says Cusack of his character. “A lot of people live autobiographically through art, and they have albums and songs and movies that mean something to them in their life, when they first heard the song, or the era of the song. Those themes run close with me.”

High Fidelity was also the breakout role for Jack Black, whom Cusack recruited for the part. “I knew we had an ending to the film because I knew Jack and had seen his act Tenacious D in Los Angeles,” says Cusack. “I knew the part was perfect for him and that he would be able to knock ’em dead with the music at the end. We had a ball.”

Beyond being one of the most entertaining movies about music ever, High Fidelity captured an audience through the relatable characters and emotional narrative.

“It tells a lot of secrets about men, our inner monologue and thought processes,” says Cusack.

On hand for the screening and conversation, Cusack looks forward to the chance to talk with fans of the film.

“What we usually like to do is take questions directly from the audience,” says Cusack, who has toured with other films. “They’re into the movies and know them well. I like to take questions and let them ask whatever they want.”

John Cusack appears Friday, March 15, at Luther Burbank Center for the Arts, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. 7:30pm. $39 and up. 707.546.3600.

Sonoma International
Film Festival

Celebrating its 22nd year, the Sonoma International Film Festival takes over Sonoma’s historic plaza for five days, March 27–31. The fully walkable festival includes more than 90 films ranging from independent features, shorts and documentaries from around the world.

Past guests to SIFF have included stars like Bruce Willis, Susan Sarandon, Meg Ryan, Robin Williams and Danny Glover, and it wouldn’t be a Sonoma event without offering world-class cuisine from local artisans and exceptional wine from Sonoma vintners to go with the films.

This year includes another packed lineup of parties and screenings, starting with the opening-night reception featuring live music from the Rich Little Band and a screening of the new film Ladies in Black, about the lives of a group of department store employees in 1959 Sydney and directed by the Oscar-nominated Bruce Beresford.

Other special events include the very popular Chefs and Shorts Dinner on March 28, featuring highly regarded culinary luminaries preparing a five-course dinner inspired by short food films from around the world.

Another must-see highlight of this year’s SIFF is the UFO symposium on March 30, boasting two investigative documentaries, Aliens at the Pentagon and The Nimitz Encounter, and a panel discussion. There’s also a showcase of the Lunafest traveling film festival on March 30 with a program of films by women filmmakers. Beyond the festivities, SIFF supports the visual arts educational programs in Sonoma Valley schools and community outreach programs.

Passes for the Sonoma International Film Festival, running Wednesday to Sunday, March 27–31, at Sebastiani Theatre and nearby venues in Sonoma, are available at sonomafilmfest.org.

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Sebastopol Documentary
Film Festival

Founded in 2007, the Sebastopol Documentary Film Festival is the North Bay’s premier showcase of independent documentaries from both international filmmakers and homegrown talent. Returning this March 28–31 for its 12th year, this year’s festival boasts one of its most locally focused programs yet, with films covering the breadth of lives in the North Bay.

Opening night’s film, Harvest Season, follows the stories of Mexican-American winemakers and the migrant workers in Napa and Sonoma counties, who grapple with several issues while 2017’s wildfires ravaged the region.

The next night, the documentary Holly Near: Singing for Our Lives shines a spotlight on Sonoma County resident and songwriting activist icon Holly Near. Directed by veteran filmmaker Jim Brown, the film comprises Near’s own footage and recordings, interviews with contemporaries like Gloria Steinem and Jane Fonda, and a live concert filmed at Berkeley’s Freight & Salvage. Throughout it all, Near’s work in several social endeavors highlights her ability to inspire peace, justice, feminism and multicultural consciousness.

Other film highlights includes the March 31 anniversary screening of the early internet documentary Home Page and filmmaker Doug Block’s subsequent blog, the D-Word, an online discussion forum that includes over 16,500 members from 128 countries, and is in its 20th year.

Several short film programs, conversations, panels and other special events complement the feature film schedule, taking place Thursday to Sunday, March 28–31, at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts and Rialto Cinemas in Sebastopol.

Festival schedule and passes available at sebastopolfilmfestival.org.

‘Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan’

Finally, San Rafael takes to the stars in a big way when it welcomes iconic actor, writer and director William Shatner to town for a conversation to accompany a screening of the best Star Trek movie ever, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, on May 16 at the Marin Center.

In revisiting his beloved character of James T. Kirk, captain of the starship Enterprise in both the original 1966 Star Trek television series and then in seven feature films, the first thing that Shatner points out is that the character almost didn’t exist.

“The people who were doing Star Trek had made a pilot with another actor,” says Shatner. “And they couldn’t sell it, but the idea was intriguing enough. A very unusual and maybe unique event took place; NBC said make another pilot with a different script and recast everybody except the guy playing the Vulcan [Leonard Nimoy].”

So it was, and the role of Captain Pike was changed to Captain Kirk. Shatner was called in to read the new part. “I thought they took themselves a little too seriously and I suggested that we have more fun with it,” he says. “I had, the year before, done a film on Alexander the Great and I was riding horses, wearing a breechcloth and doing weight training. So I had an idea of what a hero might act like, and I kept thinking of a phrase I had heard somewhere, ‘the look of eagles.'”

Taking all that, Shatner created an archetype in science fiction, the brash but brave Captain Kirk, who fights for his crew and for the good of all. Though the original series lasted only three short years, the crew of the starship Enterprise would return in 1979 for the first of several feature films. Those films also famously spawned many other television series that continue to this day, not to mention books, video games and other media.

In revisiting the character of Captain Kirk in the movies, the actor approached Kirk as an older, wiser captain. “I began to look more closely on how an aging hero, who is one step slower, might act and feel,” says Shatner. “And on the loneliness of having an inanimate ship as the love of his life. There were many strains of things that I didn’t comprehend or look at when I was playing him on television.”

While 1979’s Star Trek: The Motion Picture garnered mixed reviews, the sequel became a smash hit with critics and audiences. Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan is in fact a sequel to an episode from the original series, “Space Seed,” in which the superhuman Khan is revived from suspended animation and attempts to capture the Enterprise. That episode ends with Khan and his crew being exiled to a planet, where we find them at the beginning of the 1982 film.

“Somebody knowledgeable said, ‘Let’s get back to the series,'” says Shatner of Wrath of Khan. “The stories were the important part. So when they said let’s do a story instead of running-and-jumping, I thought that was the right way to go. And it turned out to be a success because we did that.”

As the title points out, Khan makes his wrath known in the movie, and as portrayed by the late Ricardo Montalbán, Khan is considered one of Star Trek‘s greatest villains. The film concludes with not only one of the most memorable yells in cinema history (“Khhaaaan!“) it features Shatner, Montalbán and Nimoy all giving world-class performances.

“Leonard was a wonderful actor, everything done so internally, and a great gentleman and wonderful friend,” says Shatner. “The best of acting is a tennis game between the actors, and there’s this playful thing that should happen. If it’s there, it becomes alive; even if the dialogue isn’t necessarily sparkling, actors can bring it to life if they bring themselves to life, and these guys were able to that.”

William Shatner beams down Thursday, May 16, to the Marin Center’s Veterans Memorial Auditorium, 10 Avenue of the Flags, San Rafael. 7:30pm. $39 and up. 415.473.6800.

Double Down

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It is truly right and just to go full Huell Howser on Cotati and its bigger sibling Rohnert Park, my own gateway to Sonomaphilia in 1976.

Visiting from L.A., I was taken around the place by an old girlfriend who was about to go to Sonoma State University. Out of the dust-dry south, I was dazzled by the leafiniess, the fractaled branches of the oaks, the river (“Where’s the concrete?”) and the then-free winetastings.

At night, she took me to the New Albion brewery in Penngrove. Though it burned down years ago, the sign, a sacred relic of this very early California brewpub, hangs in a place of honor behind the bar at the Russian River Brewery. Since my idea of what a brewery looked like was Busch Gardens, it was astonishing to see beer could be made in a space lacking five-story steel yeast tanks and monorails.

We met interesting locals, such as a female shade-tree mechanic who operated on the old girlfriend’s Volvo from inside a dugout that she used in lieu of a gas station’s pit. We watched SNL in the Belushi age, in a late-night cafe on the Old Redwood Highway. My love for the area continued long after the girl in question kicked me to the curb, having correctly realized that the curb is the proper place for moist, spaniel-eyed young schmucks.

While now Cotati and Rohnert Park are more or less one big amoeba, in the old days, there was a bit of rivalry between the funky college village and rapidly built housing tract that filled up Waldo Rohnert’s farm. “Robot Park,” the counterculturites called it.

Cut to 1990, a red-letter year for Cotati, the first year of the Cotati Accordion Fest. I’ve been to about 20 of them, fueling up on Lagunitas in the lawn chair, hauling up Little Red, the 12-bass Communist East German-made Bandmaster I got from Sears in 1988. As long as I can, I’ll be joining the “Lady of Spain” ring underneath a wheeling flock of confused-looking wedding doves.

The minor-key waltzes on stage complement the slight melancholy of the event; the buckets of bubble-gum-scented amaryllises scattered around are a sign of time passing. They’re called “pink naked ladies,” but could just as easily be called “farewell to summer,” since the school sessions start up the day after the accordions are silenced.

Scott Goree and Linda Conner of the Cotati Accordion Fest are busy with this coming summer’s ruckus, searching for more agony-box virtuosos from around the world. Goree says he has a large library of potential guests, augmented by YouTube, club dates he checks out and recommendations from previous guests.

This August’s fest has its theme and its poster ready: Honoring Our First Responders. The caption: “We honor the First Responders past, present and future. The future part is the most important, since we’re not out of the woods yet . . .”

Such is life in this valley, first plagued by fire and then by water.

The day may come when you’ll have to explain a “Use an Accordion—Go to Jail” bumper sticker to a kid. Accordions have lost the stigma they once had. Last year, a young crowd mobbed the second stage at the Cotati fest for the Travelling Spectacular caravan.

But not everyone in Cotati is crazy about the crowds and the amplified wheezing. “Some people love us, some people hate us,” Goree says. “The merchants complain that the people who come in don’t patronize their businesses, and that their regular customers can’t come in because of the traffic.”

Both Goree and Conner are proud of the fact that the fest has, over its history, donated $500,000 to local nonprofits. They’re the largest yearly donors to the Education Foundation. They’re the sole supporters of the music program at Thomas Page Academy, annual donors to the Boy Scouts Troop 4 camping trip, a major supporter of the outdoor programs at Penngrove Elementary—and the fest gave enough money to the Penngrove-Rohnert Park Co-op for them to acquire a playground on the premises. “It’s been a windfall for the community, and it’s really put Cotati on the map.” Goree says.

Even in galaxies far away, they’ve heard of Cotati. Avengers: Infinity War had Gamora ogling the unconscious Thor’s muscles and likening their strength to Cotati fibers. This is no reference to the weavers at Cotati’s Fiber Circle Studio, but rather to the technology of that super-intelligent race of trees, the Cotati of the Kree homeworld. They were introduced into The Avengers comics by Steve Englehart and Sal Buscema, in 1975.

“Mike” from Santa Rosa’s Batcave comic shop got me in touch with Jon Athens, a long-time local comics fan, who explained how that happened: “Back in 1972, we actually had a comic con in Cotati, the Cotati Con. That was back before almost anyone did comic cons. It was at the Inn of the Beginning” (the saloon is now known as Spancky’s and in its day hosted Janis Joplin, Etta James, the Jefferson Airplane . . . ). “Two of our biggest guests were Steve Englehart and Frank Brunner. Steve was a cool guy. He liked the area so much that he honored it.”

It’s my virgin visit to the Graton Resort and Casino. I’d waited for the traffic to die down since it opened; six years seems to have done the trick—a little, since there were careening psychos in oversized trucks on the Congressman Don Clausen overcrossing. How many times driving by had I promised myself that act of rebellion: to run off, drive up, and make some real money for a change? And
now at last . . .

Out past the Reading Cinema, the center looms. A large structure the size of a convention center at the end of an expressway, patrolled by restless security guards. At the gate, a line of somber, perhaps cleaned-out elders are ready for the busses back to San Francisco or San Jose.

At noon, the action is mostly with the slots; dogged players are sometimes rewarded with an electronic tintinnabulation that simulated a jackpot. Strange licensing abounds, including Lord of the Rings. I never thought of conflating Middle Earth and Las Vegas, but Arwen and Aragorn pose on his-and-hers slots. Señor Tapatia, the sombrero-wearing Gomez Addams–lookalike on the hot sauce bottle, is the theme of another one-armed bandit.

Wait! There’s a Diamonds Are Forever slot machine with Sean Connery looking aged but formidable. For sure, a portent of good luck.

I’d seen that cheesy movie on opening day and three times after that, in the dashed hopes that it would become better on a new viewing. Sadly, the Bond machine is out of order, as the technicians work on it, as are the Thunderball and Casino Royale slots, the latter with a large screen montage of Daniel Craig thumping a bunch of deserving henches. I find something with Chinese dragons spinning around it, evaporate $15, and head off to the car like a Hemingway hero, vanquished yet defeated.

I do my gambling at thrift shops, anyway. One breaches the door, electrified: this will be the day that I find something that will change my life, an original Miro some chump got rid of because it wigged him out. And the St. Vincent de Paul on Redwood Highway is a four-out-of-five-star thrift shop. Everything 40 percent off for seniors and students on Wednesdays. Used books are less expensive than toilet paper these days, but they had a lot of Australiana as well as a CD soundtrack for Trainspotting for 25 cents. Such a deal.

I get out of the car to recheck the loot in my trunk, and lock myself out. Thanks Yarbrough Towing, and the ebullient guy they send to use a couple of klaxon horn-like air pumps and a slim jim to pry the door open and rescue me from my stupidity.

Lunch in Cotati means the Washoe House. It’s officially in Petaluma, which is nonsense. The historic two-story inn is one or two miles north of Railroad Avenue, and Railroad Avenue is the gateway to Cotati. The vicinity doesn’t look like Chickentown at all—it’s out among the Holsteins. And would a bar in Petaluma be able to orate about itself? Hardly.

Inside, the Washoe House menu is a first person prose-poem history of the hotel, reminiscing about the cowboys and the fancy women whose feet trod the very boards where your Crocs rest today.

U.S. Grant once came and spoke from the balcony of this weathered inn that served as slaughterhouse, Post Office and hostelry. The poor bastard was stationed five months in the freezing fog at Fort Humboldt—it’s amazing he ever came back to Northern California.

Like the Graton Resort and the St. Vincent’s, I’d passed the Washoe House forever on drives, and always wanted to go in. No disappointment. Dawdled a little over a horseradish-laden Bloody Mary and a reuben (they had marble rye, yet). A good crowd of 1pm sippers, and a well-picked musical program of sobbing vocalists and steel guitars. Sade’s “The Sweetest Taboo” gave way to Jerry Jeff Walker singing about Mr. Bojangles and his sad dead dog.

A ceiling tinted an autumn-leaf color—from decades of nicotine—features thousands of thumbtacked dollar bills, scribbled with black-markered messages, hanging like bats. Clearly throwing away money had been the order of the day. Always a compulsive graffiti reader, I saw the back of a vandalized $1 bill “stONEr”—God, I wish I’d thought of that in high school. And on a squandered fiver “This Is for White Bird.”

The cryptic messages, the old photos of couples giving each other a squeeze, the handcuffs and boxing gloves over the beer taps—all signs meant to be read by some passerby, to reassure them of some form of permanence in this part of the world, flotsam to cling to in the flood of time.

Lost Time

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Fyodor Dostoevsky—who poured blood, sweat and tears into the pages of Crime and Punishment—would feel at home in John Beck’s splendid, searing new documentary, Invisible Bars, which runs 56 minutes and packs a wallop every step of the way.

“The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons,” the great Russian novelist Dostoevsky exclaimed. Jailed by Czar Nicolas I for reading “dangerous” literature, he was lined up before a firing squad and pardoned at the proverbial last minute. Dostoevsky only served six years in a Siberian prison, a grim yet redemptive experience that fueled Crime and Punishment.

Beck’s Invisible Bars, which he worked on intermittently for five years, suggests that a society ought to be judged not only by what goes on inside prisons, but also by what happens on the outside to kids who suffer the loss of an incarcerated parent. As Invisible Bars argues, those kids grow up with the stigma of a mom or a dad locked up in places like San Quentin.

Invisible Bars spits out facts as hard and as cold as the walls of the state’s famous Marin County prison. California has only 5 percent of the world’s population, but 25 percent of the world’s inmates. In California every year, half a million kids grow up with a parent in prison. In the United States, 5 million kids have parents behind bars.

Those figures come near the start of Beck’s movie, along with the trenchant comment that America is the most “incarcerated country in the world.” More men and women are in prison here than in Putin’s Russia.

Invisible Bars doesn’t analyze why this country has the world’s most highly developed “prison-industrial complex.” That’s the responsibility of students of criminal justice. Beck set out to raise awareness about mass incarceration and what he does exceeding well is put inmates and their children in front of the camera and provide a space for them to talk about the pain, the suffering, the shame—and the enduring love that isn’t snuffed out by prisons bars. Beck showcases two San Francisco public defenders, Jeff Adachi, who died in February, and Chesa Boudin. At the start of Invisible Bars, Adachi explains, “When it comes to children, the California criminal justice system is cold-hearted.”

Boudin takes over from there. The child of parents who belonged to the Weather Underground, he was raised by Bernardine Dohrn and Bill Ayers after his biological mother and father, Kathy Boudin and David Gilbert, were jailed following a botched robbery of a Brinks vehicle in 1981. Three men died; two of them police officers.

Gilbert is still in prison. Kathy Boudin was released after 22 years behind bars. Looking back at his traumatic childhood, Chesa says he blamed himself for the incarceration of his parents. Now he’s running for San Francisco District Attorney to, he says, inject justice into the criminal justice system.

Invisible Bars shows how punishing prisons can be on kids like Chesa, but it doesn’t punish viewers. Rather, it uplifts and inspires by showing families as they break down barriers, tell stories and focus their hurt and anger.

Because of kid protesters, Marin County now boasts a Children of Incarcerated Parents Bill of Rights.

Filmmaker Beck walked away from his job at Santa Rosa’s Press Democrat in 2009, after 12 years as a staff writer. Since then, he’s made documentaries, including one about ugly-dog contests and another about a Trappist monastery near Chico. Filming Invisible Bars took him to places he had never been before.

Surprisingly, San Quentin wasn’t the prison where Beck heard what he calls the most “honest heartfelt stories.” That was Solano State Prison in Vacaville, where he witnessed the workings of the Long Term Offender Program—which aims to rehabilitate and not punish, a rare thing these days.

“When I went to Solano, I never felt unsafe,” Beck says. “Rather, I knew I was getting a rare opportunity to go behind the curtain and hear real dialogue.”

Last year, Beck joined Fred Stillman’s seven children when they traveled by van from Santa Rosa to Solano—a 90-minute drive—to meet and greet their father, who was released after serving 23 years. Stillman, now 60, and his daughter, Jessica, 32, saw Invisible Bars behind bars at Solano, where Beck arranged for the film to have its world premiere.

“That was heavy, watching the film on the inside with my dad and other prisoners,” Jessica says.

For much of her childhood, Jessica rarely saw her father. When she did, it was through a glass partition. Stillman’s mother raised her. Now she has a BA from the University of San Diego and an MA from the University of San Francisco.

On a rainy Saturday morning, Stillman—who lives in San Francisco in transitional housing—visited Jessica in Santa Rosa, where she works at the Rape, Crisis Trauma and Healing Center. She’s trying to persuade Sonoma County to adopt a Children of Incarcerated Parents Bill of Rights, similar to Marin’s.

Stillman explains that, over the course of more than two decades, prison authorities moved him from Pelican Bay, where he was in solitary, to Susanville and then to New Folsom, followed by a string of penal institutions in Salinas Valley, Jamestown and Soledad, which was, he says, “a picnic compared to the other places.” It wasn’t until he was housed at Soledad that he was allowed to touch his children and they were allowed to touch him.

“For a long time, I was a monster in prison,” Stillman says. “Then I learned to accept responsibility for my own actions.” He figures it cost the state of California $1.15 million to warehouse him for 23 years. He was convicted of murder in 1995. As he points out, the prison-industrial-complex is big business. “I almost gave up on myself,” Stillman says. “But my kids never abandoned me, and once I joined the Long Term Offenders Program at Solano, I knew I had a chance to get out.”

One of Stillman’s biggest challenges was juggling gang membership. To survive, he says he had to join a gang while, at the same time, denying gang affiliation when authorities accused him of membership in one. To guards, who insisted he belonged to a white gang, he replied, “That’s not possible. My mother was Mexican and no white gang would want a Mexican.”

On Aug. 6, 2018, the day of his release, Stillman walked around Fisherman’s Wharf, admired the Golden Gate Bridge and enjoyed the view of the bay from Sausalito.

Despite its heavy topic, Invisible Bars has an upbeat soundtrack that includes music by the rap group E-Dub and the Grateful Dead, who performed at San Quentin in 1968, shortly before Johnny Cash sang there.

Invisible Bars was about as DIY as you can get,” Beck says. “The only way I could make the film was to wear a lot of different hats as cinematographer, editor and sound recorder, as well as writer, producer and director. They all add up to storyteller.”

In the last scene, Stillman faces the camera and says he would still be in prison “if it wasn’t for my kids.”

“It took decades,” Beck says, “but the Stillmans got past the stigma, the shame and the guilt, and rebuilt their family.”

Letters to the Editor: March 13, 2019

Floating Away

I’m glad to see the Bohemian begin to introduce your readers to the fast-approaching floating offshore wind industry (“Full Tilt,” Feb. 27).

Going forward, it would be useful to see a more balanced coverage of something that may well permanently industrialize significant portions of California’s coastal waters, rather than a reprint of the industry’s own public relations while failing to mention its sometimes adverse impacts on our natural world.

One of the key entities behind the emerging PR blitz for floating wind cited in the Boho story says it exists to help the oil and gas offshore oil and gas drilling industry “diversify” its portfolio of projects. Not surprisingly, since one of the most probable dominant bidders for offshore tracts in California waters being offered by Trump’s Bureau of Ocean Energy Management (BOEM) recently dropped the word “oil” from its corporate name. And unfortunately, the recent federal government shutdown cut short the public comment period for the Humboldt and Morro Bay coastal wind lease offerings so severely that even key agencies were unable to comment, while requests for an extension of the comment deadline went unheeded by BOEM.

As with any major irreversible planning decision, sound science should be guiding the public and our decision makers, but a lot of the relevant scientific questions about stray electrical fields in ocean waters from unhooked “plug and play” power cables; about whale entanglements amid the virtual net of seafloor anchor cables; about attraction of—and potential damage to—sensitive species of at-risk seabirds; and about how to ensure safety where commercial fishing overlaps (or is displaced by) the proposed wind leases, still remain unanswered.

Offshore wind projects would inevitably have onshore impacts if they are to deliver power to sites on land, meaning more transmission lines and infrastructure. Any rational energy strategy for the future of our state should include energy-efficiency and energy-conservation implementation, rather than blithely ignoring that part of the equation.

When we know that the industrial supply chain for floating offshore wind is comprised almost exclusively of some of the biggest firms in the global offshore oil drilling complex, when so many of the wind bidders here will be oil companies, and in a world where fracked natural gas is being wastefully burned off and thrown away at record rates by “flaring” in various states, a PR-fueled rush to exploit our most productive coastal upwelling waters might benefit from being just a bit more precautionary and science-based than is presently being suggested by its paid cheerleaders.

Bodega Bay

Air It Out

I am once again disappointed with Will Carruthers’ lazy reporting on the fire-debris-removal scandal involving AshBritt and other contractors (“Dirty Business,” March 13). There is a real story here: the excessive charges for debris removal are scandalous, and the statement by state’s emergency services director that debris-removal contractors defrauded the state demands real investigation. The issues raised in the new lawsuit against AshBritt and Tetra Tech demand investigation. But instead of real investigation, Carruthers gives us another loosely woven house of straw built on innuendo and implied (but never documented) collusion.

The latest article implies something is amiss with the county’s new emergency manager, Christopher Godley, because he didn’t update his LinkedIn profile and because other employees working for a separate division of Godley’s prior employer (Tetra Tech) evidently falsified hazardous materials testing results on a San Francisco development project. What kind of guilt-by-association hokum is that? I worked with Chris during his prior employment with Sonoma County, and he was a model of professionalism and integrity.

And, of course, the article concludes with another of Carruthers’ obligatory swipes at Darius Anderson for reasons that remain unclear. If there’s really “something” there, let’s air it out. Our community deserves better reporting on these issues.

Santa Rosa

Write to us at le*****@******an.com.

Mill Valley private-equity exec named in college-admissions criminal scam

William E. McGlashan, a Mill Valley resident and executive at the private-equity giant TPG, has been named in a sweeping set of indictments issued this that allege that he and dozens of other parents paid off college admissions off…..  

The Good Seeds

Today’s pot is hardly the skunkweed of the ’80s. While this won’t be news to many, I wonder if people realize the complexities involved in growing today’s designer weed, medicinal or recreational. I certainly didn’t when I set out to write a novel featuring a medical-marijuana operation.

The Wolf Tone takes place in 2011 Montana, ancient history by industry standards. These were the days of the cannabis caravan, a roving convoy of RVs and trailers that traveled the state, setting up in box-store parking lots to offer patients a one-stop shop. State law was hazier back then. One of the FAQs on the state health and human services website was whether a tenant had to tell his landlord if he was growing weed. The answer? The law was “ambiguous on the matter.”

Banks were willing to issue business loans to providers, so long as they were in compliance with the state laws, murky as they may be. Private equity backers were interested in Montana commercial growers. Providers were interviewed on television, allowing the public to scrutinize this new form of entrepreneur.

Through extensive interviews with my brother, who had a small grow in Oregon, I learned the mathematical side of plant cultivation. He had three plants under two high-pressure sodium (HPS) lamps that yielded close to three pounds of product every harvest. I learned the difference between indica and sativa strains—indica will put you on the
couch, while sativa can offer a functioning high.

I filled a notebook with equations: X number of HPS lamps could take this number of plants, which would equal a predictable yield. A lot could go wrong. Spider mites, for instance. Plant mold. Like most specialized growers, one who concentrates on a particular strain, my brother had his own brew of nutrients and products he used to combat mold and pests.

Growing cannabis is complex. The flowering females need a period of 12 hours in darkness to begin forming buds. Once the plants are ready for harvest, they must be cured. Cure time effects THC levels, and thus the quality of the product.

My brother believed in a long, slow cure at room temperatures between 60 and 70 degrees. Three weeks total, give or take. He could tell when his flowers were ready to be cut by the feel of the buds and the crispness of the branches. After trimming, he would pack the flowers in large glass jars for the final weeks of cure, airing them out multiple times a day.

People have gotten better at growing dope, just as we’ve gotten better at cultivating organic apples and designing energy efficient homes. Getting better at stuff is what our species does.

Source: Alternet.

Space Force

Expert script-flippage gives texture to the heartfelt female empowerment message within Captain Marvel. It begins as a war-on-terror movie, with an extraterrestrial military gearing up for a mission against the shape-shifting Skrulls, hiding among the locals on a planet that looks like Afghanistan. Later, we arrive at our more current malaise when the film’s true villain starts talking of aliens who “threaten our borders.”

Brie Larson’s brown-eyed and appealing underplaying sells this material, which isn’t the freshest. She is called “Vers,” an amnesiac soldier of the outer space Kree empire, with the ability to blast photon rays from her fists. After a skirmish, Vers falls to earth like a comet into 1990s North Hollywood.

The ruckus summons America’s top secret agent Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson, digitized to a younger form and still possessing both eyes). The corpse of a dead Skrull convinces Fury of Vers’ story. As they try to round up the aliens, the jagged bits of Vers’ past keep flashing back: she recalls her former life as an air force fighter pilot, and she recalls her lifelong friendship with her fellow pilot Marie Rambeau (Lashana Lynch).

Larson and Jackson have a smooth rapport. If Larson brings in a great deal of feeling to the role, she also brings some playfulness. Our heroine can be slightly bratty, pestering Fury at a bar about why he thinks everyone should call him by his last name—an echo of all the raffish word-bandying that went on in Pulp Fiction. “And what will your kids call you?” “Fury.”

Despite some starchy Louisiana heartland sequences, this is an effective fantasy of power used with grace and without arrogance. Captain Marvel isn’t as supermacha as GI Jane or Starship Troopers, however; the movie is not about Vers becoming a good, disciplined soldier. She finds her independence at last.

When Captain Marvel is over, one notes that a conventional romantic lead isn’t here, and also wasn’t missed. Directors Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck, and the five credited writers give this heroine’s journey the same attractive solitude that male heroes—super and otherwise—have enjoyed in the movies forever.

‘Captain Marvel’ is playing in wide release in the North Bay.

Dark Matters

0

In a Feb. 27 letter to the editor of this publication, a theater patron decried one North Bay company for its tendency to program shows with dark themes that portray men and women at their worst. The letter writer went on to suggest attending a then-running show at Santa Rosa’s Left Edge Theatre. That patron may want to skip what’s running there now through March 24.

The Nether is playwright Jennifer Haley’s look at a not-too-distant future where the internet has evolved into a virtual realm that is rapidly replacing components of the real world. Students don’t go to schools anymore. Vacationers don’t travel anywhere. They all just “plug in.”

Within the Nether, there’s a deeply hidden place called, appropriately enough, “the Hideaway,” where visitors can indulge in their every whim and lead “a life without consequence,” because it all just happens in the participant’s minds. It’s the invention of a man named Sims (Chris Schloemp) who designed it as a way to deal with his pedophilia. If he can satisfy his urges through avatars created by other consenting adults, is anyone really hurt?

An investigator named Morris (Leila Rosa) seems to think so, and a great deal of the play involves her interrogation of Sims and a weary Hideaway visitor named Doyle (David Yen). The rest of the play takes place in that virtual world, a Victorian home whose main occupant is an 11-year-old girl named Iris (adult Lana Spring). The arrival of a new visitor (Jared N. Wright) brings both worlds crashing down.

“Policing the internet” is a phrase we hear often these days, and Haley takes that thought and runs with it in provocative and challenging ways. I’ve revealed little of the details and direction that this show eventually goes, but enough in the hope that you won’t feel the need, as several audience members did at the performance I attended, to exit at intermission.

I’m not sure why director Argo Thompson inserted that intermission in this originally 80-minute show, but I think it suffers for it. This is a show best experienced in a single, uninterrupted and, yes, uncomfortable sitting.

It’s got a generally strong cast handling very difficult material, though Rosa’s investigator seemed to be channeling Jack Webb at times.

Theater doesn’t get any tougher than The Nether. It’s not for everyone, or maybe anyone, but if you do attend, prepare to be bothered.

Rating (out of 5): ★★★½

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Best Of 2019

Best of the Best Welcome. We're once again celebrating the best of the North Bay, with our epic Readers Poll and extensive selection of Writers Picks. It never gets old, putting out these annual issues that celebrate the best of the best of Sonoma and Napa counties. In a world of impermanence, it's good to know that there's always another...

Spring Screens

With March well under way and spring around the corner, the clouds are starting to clear in the North Bay, meaning the stars are coming out to shine. From now through May, several of Hollywood's top actors, emerging filmmakers, gifted documentarians and others will make their way to Sonoma and Marin for special screenings and festivals offering one-of-a-kind film...

Double Down

It is truly right and just to go full Huell Howser on Cotati and its bigger sibling Rohnert Park, my own gateway to Sonomaphilia in 1976. Visiting from L.A., I was taken around the place by an old girlfriend who was about to go to Sonoma State University. Out of the dust-dry south, I was dazzled by the leafiniess, the...

Lost Time

Fyodor Dostoevsky—who poured blood, sweat and tears into the pages of Crime and Punishment—would feel at home in John Beck's splendid, searing new documentary, Invisible Bars, which runs 56 minutes and packs a wallop every step of the way. "The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons," the great Russian novelist Dostoevsky exclaimed. Jailed...

Letters to the Editor: March 13, 2019

Floating Away I'm glad to see the Bohemian begin to introduce your readers to the fast-approaching floating offshore wind industry ("Full Tilt," Feb. 27). Going forward, it would be useful to see a more balanced coverage of something that may well permanently industrialize significant portions of California's coastal waters, rather than a reprint of the industry's own public relations while failing...

Mill Valley private-equity exec named in college-admissions criminal scam

William E. McGlashan, a Mill Valley resident and executive at the private-equity giant TPG, has been named in a sweeping set of indictments issued this that allege that he and dozens of other parents paid off college admissions off.....  

The Good Seeds

Today's pot is hardly the skunkweed of the '80s. While this won't be news to many, I wonder if people realize the complexities involved in growing today's designer weed, medicinal or recreational. I certainly didn't when I set out to write a novel featuring a medical-marijuana operation. The Wolf Tone takes place in 2011 Montana, ancient history by industry standards....

Space Force

Expert script-flippage gives texture to the heartfelt female empowerment message within Captain Marvel. It begins as a war-on-terror movie, with an extraterrestrial military gearing up for a mission against the shape-shifting Skrulls, hiding among the locals on a planet that looks like Afghanistan. Later, we arrive at our more current malaise when the film's true villain starts talking of...

Dark Matters

In a Feb. 27 letter to the editor of this publication, a theater patron decried one North Bay company for its tendency to program shows with dark themes that portray men and women at their worst. The letter writer went on to suggest attending a then-running show at Santa Rosa's Left Edge Theatre. That patron may want to skip...
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