Santa Rosa musician Francesco Catania dusts off his shiny shoes and shares the latest from his ongoing solo project, Frances Wolfe, electronica chillwave that mashes dreamy dazed synths, ethereal vocals and Catania’s groovy guitar licks layered under heavy reverb. Frances Wolfe plays as part of a diverse lineup with InOverOut, Sleepwalk Sunday, Plastic Ghost and Saffell on Sunday, Aug. 2, at the Arlene Francis Center, 99 Sixth St., Santa Rosa. 7pm. $5-$10. 707.528.3009.
The much-anticipated release of the state Blue Ribbon Commission on Marijuana Policy report reads like it was put together by a bunch of fussbudgets who’d just as soon never see legalized cannabis come to California. Yet nobody should be surprised that the tone and content of the report, released last week and spearheaded by Lt. Gov. Gavin Newsom, reads like a massive buzzkill.
The jump-out line is the idea that Californians shouldn’t expect a “gold rush” in the cannabis industry if the state goes legal in 2016. Readers may recall that a “gold rush” mentality took hold in Santa Cruz following that city’s rollout on medical cannabis, which only served to fuel a federal backlash against the state’s 2006 medical cannabis law.
Now there is a real concern over a broader backlash as legalization moves forward in the nation’s most populous state. There’s no doubt a big debate over pot politics will play out in the political and media arena as we lurch toward Election Day 2016. Newsom is pro-legalization and politically ambitious, so it’s wise for him to keep a lid on over-excitement about a generally accepted inevitability that is by no means an actual inevitability.
The “gold rush” language also conveys a reality that legalization will occur while there’s still a federal prohibition in place, barring some bongs-up move from President Obama on his way out the door, so the report had to necessarily downplay any implication that a cannabis industry here would spill into states that haven’t yet gone this route, the fools. California’s No. 1 cash crop is already widely exported across the country, and legalization will make it that much easier to scoot some nugs over to Nevada, where they are desperately needed.
Alas, there is still plenty of time for a 2016 legalization referendum to fail, and spectacularly so. The bottom line is that, given the high political drama that’s sure to unfold, Newsom isn’t about to go out on a limb over legalization.
So this bud’s for you, Gav. Thanks for being the adult in the room. It sure ain’t me.
Tom Gogola is the news editor of the ‘Bohemian.’
Open Mic is a weekly feature in the ‘Bohemian.’ We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 350 words considered for publication, write op*****@******an.com.
Twelfth Night is one of Shakespeare’s most popular plays. It deserves to be.
The story—about a pair of twins, Sebastian and Viola (an excellent Carmen Mitchell), shipwrecked on the coast of a strange land where everyone seems to fall in love with the wrong person—is clever and accessible, the language is beautiful but not overly flowery, and the situations are universally funny. There are identical twins, obsessive lovers, mistaken identities and some truly colorful characters. It’s great stuff, all served up with Shakespeare’s patented sense of poetry and escalating crisis.
And there’s that great speech about music being the food of love.
What’s tricky about a play this well-known and well-loved is presenting it freshly. How do you bring something new to a show that has been so thoroughly mined and milked that virtually everything discoverable about the play has been discovered?
That’s the task set before director David Lear and the Shakespeare in the Cannery crew, now halfway through a six-week run of the play in the old cannery ruins in Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square. With a uniformly talented cast, and a strong vision, Lear has found a way to balance the play’s extremes, making the comedy funnier by attending to the details of the drama.
Known for innovative and sometimes unconventional approaches, Lear does make a few changes, the most obvious being the character of the jester, Feste, who here has been split into two, played as twins or clones or BFFs by Haley Bartels and Brandon Wilson, both delightful. The other obvious splashes of invention are largely stylistic, from the tennis shoes worn by most of the cast to the black lipstick and corsets worn by several of the supporting players.
The cast perform as a superbly balanced ensemble, but special attention should go to April Krautner as Olivia (the grieving noblewoman who falls for Viola), moving from gloom to puppy love with immense charm; Clark Miller and Brian Abbott as, respectively, the drunken Toby Belch and Andrew Aguecheek (silly and kind of sad at the same time); and the magnificent Alan Kaplan as Malvolio the butler, the play’s trickiest role, who, as the subject of one of literature’s most famous practical jokes, must go from ridiculous to near tragic, without altering the tone of the shenanigans around him.
By finding the new in something so old, this is a Twelfth Night to celebrate and savor.
Rating (out of 5): ★★★★
HUFFMAN ON 2016
“I’ve been waiting for that question for months!” So exclaimed second-term U.S.
Rep. Jared Huffman, D-San Rafael, last week when Debriefer got him on the phone. The question: Who are you supporting for president in 2016?
The answer may surprise readers who have already taken note of the fact that there’s a pretty heady battle shaping up in the Democratic Party over the presidential campaigns of U.S. Sen. Bernie Sanders and Hillary Rodham Clinton. Bernie has been getting huge, boisterous crowds around the country with his fiery blasts of populist rhetoric and anti-corporate, up-the-people messaging. The knuckle-draggers over at the National Review
are taking Sanders and his message so seriously, they even called him a Nazi.
Huffman is a progressive Democrat whose congressional district comprises a region of the country so distinctive in the American political imagination that George Bush was once reduced to calling U.S.-born jihadi John Walker Lindh “some misguided Marin hot-tubber.”
So readers may be surprised that Huffman is all-in for Hillary Clinton, many months before the Democratic primaries get into gear. The Iowa caucus kicks it off next February; the California primary is June 7.
“Sanders is bringing some great points to the discussion,” Huffman says, “but at the end of the day, our Democratic nominee is going to be Hillary Clinton, and I’m going to support her.”
Huffman is pragmatic even as he throws a populist cheer in the direction of Sanders, a Vermont socialist who ran for Senate as an Independent, and who caucuses with the Democratic Party.
“Bernie is getting great crowds and he’s getting people excited on the left—that’s a good thing. But Hillary Clinton is going to dominate all the primaries, she’s going to start racking up delegates, and it will be clear, early on, that our nominee is going to be Secretary Clinton. But I think the good news for all of us is that she seems to be embracing some of the things Bernie is saying as well.”
All will be clear in a year. The Democratic National Convention goes down in Philadelphia next July 25–28.
So who is Huffman handicapping for the Republican Party nomination? No surprise there: “I’m crossing my fingers and hoping for Donald Trump,” says Huffman, “but we’ll probably wind up with someone more like Scott Walker.”—Tom Gogola
SNOOPY SCOOP
Last Friday, the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center invited cast and crew of the upcoming Peanuts Movie to the museum for a meet-and-greet with the press. The animated adventure is the first time the iconic Peanuts characters have made it to the big screen.
Director Steve Martino (Horton Hears a Who!) joined screenwriter (and Schulz’s son) Craig Schulz, the cartoonist’s widow, Jean (both pictured), and four members of the voice cast—Noah Schnapp (Charlie Brown), Francesca Capaldi (the Little Red-Haired Girl), Hadley Belle Miller (Lucy van Pelt) and Mar Mar (Franklin Armstrong)—for a tour and roundtable discussion of the film.
Martino highlighted the challenge in preserving the authenticity of characters adored by millions for over half a century, while introducing them to a new generation of kids. The Peanuts Movie is scheduled for release on Nov. 6.—Charlie Swanson
Thank you for this article (“Mist Opportunity,” July 22). I have a farm in the Central Valley, and was wondering what sort of mesh-fabric would work. Thanks for your input. I’ve thought about using trees as frames. Or a high tower in an open area. We will need water for trees and family farms. I believe that fog catching and making water out of thin air is the way to go for much of California.
Via Bohemian.com
In reply to Dixon Wragg (“Flag Waiving,” July 15), who says he doesn’t salute the flag out of protest for the sins of our fathers, I have a suggestion: Don’t stop there. Take it up a notch to show you mean it. Pack your duffle bag and move your ass to the first country you find that has brought more freedom, liberty and prosperity to the world.
The notion that Sitting Bull should replace Washington on Mount Rushmore is absurd. You print this junk? The Indians weren’t brutal? They didn’t kill or take over other nations? That’s just pure pablum. The greatness of America lies not in any innocence, but in our ability to surmount our deficiencies and advance toward our ideals.
To that end, 38 million Americans gave their lives to end slavery and genocide, to fight fascism and communism, so you could sit in your house in Cotati and write letters about how horrible the U.S. is. You can salute them.
Rohnert Park
An activity cannot be deemed sustainable when any integral part of it is not sustainable. When it comes to wineries and the tourism needed to support them, auto traffic and its consequent fossil-fuel emissions constitute an unsustainable part of the whole. The same can be said for other fossil-fuel-related activity attendant to the wine industry: trucking, tractors and so forth. Unless all parts of a system are sustainable, the whole cannot be called sustainable, and to do so is dishonest at best and manipulative at worst.
Sonoma
It seems that almost overnight, there has been a voracious takeover of our environment. People in four watersheds of the Russian River have been told that we must control our water use, while vineyards are free of restrictions. California is experiencing a historic drought, yet there are more vineyards, entertainment centers, etc., in the pipeline. The destruction and gluttony of the wine industry is beyond anything I will ever understand.
Occidental
Little homes with no washing machines and storage fail miserably (“Taking It to the Streets,” July 8). Please stop the stories that fail to adjust to basic necessities. Get a scanner. The police are dispatched on homeless issues for almost 50 percent of all 911 calls. Housing, laundry facilities and showers must be provided for the homeless in all parts of Sonoma County. Failure to do so requires many of them to become lawbreakers in order to stay alive.
Via Bohemian.com
Write to us at le*****@******an.com.
Joe Wagner, 33, is the son of Napa Valley winemaker Chuck Wagner, and he sounds like a man who believes in doing the right thing.
But Wagner’s proposal to build a huge new winery, distillery and events center at Dairyman ranch off Highway 12 near Sebastopol led to a groundswell of opposition when he announced it last February.
The proposal so inflamed local residents that Padi Selwyn cofounded an advocacy group to fight it. The organization, Neighbors to Preserve Rural Sonoma County, has 1,200 followers on Facebook at last count.
Selwyn is a marketing consultant who helped start the National Bank of the Redwoods. She says she has nothing against wineries, and nothing against development per se, but with 500 wineries in the county and an unceasing push for more of them, she says, simply, “Enough is enough.”
Have we reached “peak wine” in Sonoma County?
Wagner’s intentions reflect a growing commitment to greater sustainability being promoted by wine industry–supporting organizations such as Sonoma County Winegrowers. But critics say it’s all talk, no sustainability.
Earlier this month, the organization ran ads in local media outlets, including the Bohemian, to promote its sustainable practices, and the response was as quick as it was ferociously dismissive. Critics included former Sonoma County supervisor Ernie Carpenter, who accused some wineries of green-washing environmental impacts in an opinion piece in the Press Democrat. Wagner is not a member of the trade group.
“The advertisement we published in local newspapers in the county was paid for by local Sonoma County wine-grape growers who are proud of our sustainability program and want to share the effort with the local community,” says Sean Carroll, director of marketing and communications for Sonoma Winegrowers. “No public funds or grant money was used.”
Still, the ad rankled some residents who see Sonoma County transforming into a wine-soaked Disneyland for tourists.
And the Dairyman proposal, Selwyn argues, represents the worst of the transformation: wrong size, wrong place, wrong time. Wagner’s plan is to produce 500,000 cases of wine and 250,000 cases of apple brandy a year, on a 68-acre parcel. That will mean many tanker trucks and the traffic that comes with them, since Dairyman can only grow a fraction of the necessary fruit on-site.
A proposed driveway at the new winery would cross the popular Joe Rodota Trail, used daily by hundreds of cyclists and pedestrians.
The proposed events center has drawn the most ire from critics, who speak of unpermitted food service, traffic congestion, drunken drivers making the roads unsafe, and negative environmental impacts on the Laguna de Santa Rosa.
Through its advertising and sympathetic tourism bureaucracy, Big Wine continues to push the mythical image of the small family winery, even as Wagner, for example, just sold his Meiomi label to Constellation Brands, a giant out-of-state company, for $315 million.
Wagner says he was surprised by the pushback to his proposal, but has agreed to do an environmental impact report to mollify his critics. He says he wants to answer everyone’s questions about his proposal, and doesn’t want “there to be people who think this is a bad deal.”
Wagner says his proposal is a great use of the property—an “old dilapidated dairy that is going to go from industrial to light-industrial agricultural use.”
The proposed turn-off onto Highway 12 east of Llano Road is one of the reasons he bought it. “It’s a main thoroughfare, it’s not a county road,” Wagner says. The property has been used for concrete pumping and gypsum mixing, so “it is not suitable to be restored to its natural habitat,” he says.
Wagner bought the property for
$4.5 million to provide a home for his higher-tier Belle Glos label and research and development projects. He expects to grow 6,500 grape vines on the site and will use tertiary treated wastewater from the county for irrigation. They’ll recycle wastewater on-site.
“The technology that’s been coming out over the last decade has been phenomenal” for water reuse, says Wagner. Water for winemaking will be pumped from wells.
Wagner contested an oft-repeated criticism of winemaking’s strain on water supplies—that it takes 30 gallons of water to make a glass of wine. More typical is six to seven gallons to produce a single gallon of wine, says Wagner, who adds that he has “brought it down to lower than two gallons.”
Regardless, residents are increasingly asking a question that transcends Wagner’s plans: How many wineries are too
many?
Passing by Nicole Stevenson’s house in a quiet Santa Rosa neighborhood, you’d never know that the backyard serves as the headquarters for a mini DIY empire.
From her studio, she and her aunt and business partner, Delilah Snell, run two of California’s biggest craft events, the Craftcation Conference and the Patchwork Show. Stevenson says she’s never had a proper 9-to-5 job, but most of the time she’s in the studio, working away.
As the maker movement gained prominence over the last decade, the online crafts marketplace, spearheaded by Etsy, inspired such brick-and-mortar events as the Renegade Craft Fair, West Coast Craft and the Maker Faire. You won’t find “Put a bird on it”–type crafts at these fairs, but highly polished and stylish wares. Stevenson, 38, wanted in on it.
A graphic designer, illustrator and writer, Stevenson grew up in Los Angeles and moved to Sonoma County in 2000 to finish a master’s degree at San Francisco State University. “I knew I’d rather live in Sonoma County than San Francisco, even though it meant commuting to the City several times a week,” she says.
After graduating in 2003, Stevenson decided to stay for good. “I wasn’t about to give up afternoons at the Marshall Store, eating oysters on Tomales Bay or spending the day on the Russian River drawing in my sketchbook on the shore,” she says.
In the process of moving, Stevenson simply took all of her ventures with her. The idea for the Patchwork Show, a biannual makers festival with changing locations around California, was born in 2007. “When I started my own handmade business 14 years ago in Los Angeles,” she says, “the DIY movement didn’t exist the way it does now, and indie craft shows hadn’t surfaced yet.”
A recent Patchwork show in Oakland attracted about 5,000 visitors and 150 vendors from all over the Bay Area. Craftcation, the annual four-day business conference, started five years ago after Stevenson realized that inspiration and guidance are just as important to the DIY scene as buying and selling crafts.
“The feeling you get when you’re in a place with so many other awe-inspiring creative types is overwhelmingly awesome,” she says.
Craftcations usually include workshops, lectures and other activities geared toward professionals, bloggers, aspiring makers and fans of the craft movement. The events take place in Ventura and turn local hotels into playlands for all things handmade.
Having a business with multiple locations and receiving applications from dozens of makers yearly translates into a lot of traveling for Stevenson, who nevertheless calls Santa Rosa her (very stylish) home. “When I moved here from Southern California, I was surprised to find that Sonoma County has so much to offer with regard to the DIY and craft scene,” she says, crediting the area’s relaxed pace and lower cost of living for the flourishing entrepreneurial spirit.
When she first moved here, Stevenson sold her goods at Santa Rosa’s Shop Party events and taught workshops at local spots like StitchCraft in Petaluma and CastAway and Folk in Santa Rosa. Now she struggles to fit some community life into her schedule.
Stevenson is now working on a series of online workshops and classes focusing on craft food and business savvy for craft-craving folks outside of California. She offers a DIY starter kit and related online courses and workshops. And how about a Sonoma County crafts fair? It just may happen.
“This is definitely something we’ve thought about,” says Stevenson, “but we’re also keeping in mind the logistics of doing a show in an area that’s so spread out, where each city has its own strong sense of community.”
The mindset and demand, she knows, are there.
“What materials are used to make the things we purchase,” Stevenson asks, “and are those materials harmful for us or our environment? How is our food sourced and grown? People are moving toward a more conscious way of living, asking questions previous generations didn’t ask.”
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Nicole Stevenson’s DIY Favorites in Sonoma County
Craftcation and Patchwork are providing a lively outlet for the DIY professional. Given Stevenson’s success, her backyard studio is definitely a place to watch for more good things to come.
CastAway and Folk in Santa Rosa has a great selection of craft supplies and also offers workshops. 100 Fourth St., Santa Rosa. 707.546.9276.
StitchCraft in Petaluma not only has the most unique selection of fabric in Sonoma County but also offers a variety of sewing workshops for adults and kids. 170 Kentucky St., Petaluma. 707.773.4739
For general craft supplies, I usually head to Beverly’s in Santa Rosa. Coddingtown Mall, 1630 Range Ave., Santa Rosa. 707.521.2196
For art supplies, Rileystreet Art Supply (103 Maxwell Court, Santa Rosa; 707.526.2416) or Village Art Supply (715 Hahman Drive, Santa Rosa; 707.575.4501) can’t be beat.
SHED in Healdsburg has awesome food craft and education workshops, and occasionally has craft classes. 25 North St., Healdsburg. 707.431.7433.
The Share Exchange in Santa Rosa offers co-working, a made-local marketplace and business lectures. 531 Fifth St., Santa Rosa. 707.331.6850.
Points North hail from the Bay Area and Sonoma County, but point of origin shouldn’t be an issue. Guitarist Eric Barnett, bassist Uriah Duffy (of re-formed Whitesnake fame) and drummer Kevin Aiello sound as big as another immensely popular Canadian trio who just played their 40th anniversary tour.
Besides opening for guitar heros such as Michael Schenker, Eric Johnson, Al Di Meola and Pat Travers, Points North have become a headliner in these parts. They released their second, self-titled album earlier this year on Magna Carta Records, which, aside from the awesome rocker “Colorblind,” is totally instrumental.
If guitar and bass calisthenics are your thing, melodic ditties like “Child’s Play” and an intricate barnburner like “Ignition” will get you jumping. Like many of their Magna Carta labelmates, the band caters to those who like melodies delivered with technical prowess and just the right amount of power.
Barnett holds his own against any of the aforementioned guitarists he’s opened for, and the rhythm section of Duffy and Aiello decimate the groove. Prepare to lay it down when Points North come to HopMonk Novato on Aug. 1, with openers the Devil in California and Flanelhed. 224 Vintage Way, Novato. 9pm. $10. 415.892.6200.
It’s a sunny Saturday morning in July at Lawson’s Landing at Dillon Beach, achingly beautiful and breezy, as Bob Bedsworth ambles down a sandy path, a bright-red five-gallon bucket of spent horseneck clamshells in hand.
He has just finished giving a shucking lesson to one of his grandkids from the back deck of his trailer at the campsite. It’s a scene that’s likely been repeated hundreds, thousands of times at this popular campground.
Bedsworth is retired U.S. Air Force, has a home in Elk Grove and spends five months a year in his trailer at Lawson’s Landing, from May through September. He’s been coming here for 34 years. But those days are coming to an end, as Lawson’s faces an uncertain future.
Bedsworth owns one of the 200-odd semi-permanent camper-trailers perched along the edge of Tomales Bay. They’ll all be gone by this time next year. That move is a key piece of a long-in-the-making deal struck in 2011 between Lawson’s Landing and the California Coastal Commission to keep Lawson’s open.
But ask Lawson’s owners and they’ll tell you that, because of financial and regulatory challenges, staying open is by no means assured.
Bedsworth recalls the clamming, the abalone diving and the general good times he’s had over the decades he’s been coming to this rather remote and free-wheeling campground, where the cattle once ran free on an adjoining ranch also owned by the Lawson family.
“Where else can you find a place on the bay that’s reasonably priced and where you can bring the kids, the grandkids,” says Bedsworth. “I’ll miss that.”
Under new rules designed to save the endangered red-legged frogs, famous Tomales dunes and snowy plovers, Lawson’s will have to abide by state laws that restrict people from coastal camping for more than two straight weeks at a time.
The idea is to give other people a shot at camping at the location and to protect sensitive habitat. But once those camper-trailers are gone, Lawson’s owners say they will have to provide access to a more well-heeled crowd of luxe campers as part of its plan to stay afloat. And that may not be enough, the owners fear.
Bedsworth peers over the top of his rectangular sunglasses and says with a soft smile, “I’d just as soon it not happen. I think it’s stupid.”
He heads off to dump his bucket of clamshells into the sun-dappled bay.
CLAMS AND FREE AIR CONDITIONING
Lawson’s Landing has been a family business in northwestern-most Marin County since the late 1950s. The family has owned the land, which until recently comprised some 1,000 acres, since the 1920s. The camping scene has historically been dominated by blue collar and middle-class folks from the Sacramento Valley.
“They come for the free air-conditioning,” says Lawson’s Landing co-owner Carl “Willy” Vogler.
The campground first came into the crosshairs of Marin County environmentalists in 1962. None of the moving parts that had kept the revenue flowing to the Lawson’s—a sand quarry (now defunct), the cattle ranch (still operating), the camping—had operated with a use permit from the county.
The boat livery is still operating, which is a rare sight at marinas these days because of liability concerns. You can rent an aluminum boat (the motor’s extra) and head out to the bay for the day. There’s also a boat-repair shop attached to the fishing and retail operation.
The family has been trying to get use permits since before the advent of the Marin County Local Coastal Plan in 1980, but to no avail, say Lawson family members. “We’ve been working with, and sometimes against, the agencies, trying to get things permitted,” Vogler says.
The coastal plan is essentially the local reflection of mandates contained in the state Coastal Act of 1976 that created the California Coastal Commission.
The campground’s footprint has shrunk from 100 to about 20 acres, and you can feel that the squeeze is on. There are a few abandoned public restrooms that tell of the downsizing. Tent campers are now slotted into small patches of grass, and everyone seems to be right on top of one another.
The owners returned 465 acres of campsites back to wetlands as part of an ongoing settlement arrangement with the coastal commission (a “consent cease and desist”), and in exchange were given the green-light to grow-out the tent camping in less sensitive areas. That hasn’t happened yet.
“There’s work to be done,” says Vogler. “It will take tractors and time,” and the latter is in short supply in the summer.
The 465 acres comprised the most eco-sensitive parts of the Lawson’s holdings, and they put the acreage into a permanent conservation easement with the federal Natural Resource Conservation Service for
$5 million.
Meanwhile, the family hasn’t been able to move on the part of the redevelopment plan that would allow them to put in new camping areas in other parts of their land.
The Lawsons now say that a much-anticipated coastal commission scientific survey (which, they stress, they were not required to do) has been so long in coming that it’s handcuffed them from making the necessary changes that would keep them in business.
The survey is a necessary precondition for the family to start dealing with critically needed wastewater infrastructure. New bathrooms and shower facilities are part of the deal, among other upgrades.
The family says it can see a viable business on the other side of this complex and multimillion dollar transition—but getting from here to there without going out of business in the process? That’s another story.
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“I’m extremely nervous,” says Vogler. “This is supposed to remain a place for low-cost coastal access, and I want to keep it that way.”
While he sees a business after the transition, “it’s paying off the other stuff to get there that is the terrifying part. The trick is to make the income meet the out-go.”
Marin County supervisor Steve Kinsey is more optimistic.
“I believe that Lawson’s Landing has several more generations of opportunity for visitors to come,” says Kinsey, who has dual role here in his additional capacity as a commissioner with the California Coastal Commission. Kinsey notes that the family has a “very viable coastal development permit that they can work with.”
Kinsey was, however, surprised to hear the extent of the worry expressed by Vogler and co-owner Mike Lawson over staying in business.
“I personally think they should be talking to me if they think it is that serious,” he says. “The last thing we want to do is to eliminate the largest coastal camping opportunity in Northern California. That’s not the intention, and there would be ways that it could possibly be addressed. I am determined to help them not go out of business.”
Kinsey says that he had been an early proponent of seeing the “historic trailers prevail,” but agrees with the ruling consensus that those folks had to share the wealth with other campers.
Catherine Caufield is the former executive director of the West Marin Environmental Action Committee, a nonprofit that was a major driving force for the changes afoot at Lawson’s. She agrees that the slow-roll on the scientific study has created “a bit of a bottleneck, because it just took time to do a good job.”
Caufield credits the family with the changes that they have made to address the environmental concerns her organization highlighted. “I believe that Mike [Lawson] and Willy want to do the right thing,” she says, “and we’re always there to encourage them just a little bit more.”
Meanwhile, the clock is ticking on the camper-trailers, which have provided a backbone of rental income to the owners for decades. The 2011 deal gave those trailer owners a five-year window to get out. That’s a hard deadline, and it’s coming July 13, 2016.
The coastal commission has two general mandates: Keep the coast clear of excessive development that would negatively impact the environment; and ensure that the California coastline is accessible to everyone, and especially those of lesser means.
Lawson’s and Marin County struck a deal to keep the business going in 2008. The West Marin Environmental Action Committee challenged that agreement, and that’s when the issue jumped from the county’s in-box to the coastal commission.
“The coastal commission was supposed to shut us down,” Vogler recalls. They entered into a “consent cease and desist” with the agency as part of the agreement to remove the trailers. “They chose not to enforce the ‘cease’ part as long as we kept moving down the road, making the improvements,” he says.
“What the coastal commission did—right, wrong or indifferent—was they offered a compromise that PO’d the environmentalists, the NIMBY people and us. I’d call it a good compromise where people wind up basically being equally unhappy. Everybody was more or less disappointed with it.”
HARD TIMES?
“This was supposed to be a fast-track deal,” says Mike Lawson. “The five-year period is coming to an end, and we have no way of replacing our business in a quick, business-like time frame with something else. Either the coastal commission is going to allow us to keep the business afloat for another year or two, or we are going to be facing some really hard times. When the trailers go away, we have to replace that revenue, but we can’t replace that with low-cost, overnight camping.”
Lawson says that survivability may now hinge on a new wastewater system that’s part of the purview of the coastal commission study currently underway. The family, he says, had submitted a preliminary proposal to the commission and Marin County to get a proper use permit for the proposed build-out, and it was approved—but only preliminarily.
“We think we have a strong argument for redeveloping a formerly developed area, but we’re still waiting to hear from the scientific review panel,” says Lawson.
One idea under exploration would put the land into the purview of the California Coastal Conservancy. In that scenario, the state agency would partner with the Lawsons, loan them the money to stay afloat and then collect the loan back at a low interest rate.
“But money is getting hard to find,” Lawson says. “Our planner is trying to work with some of those people and get something done here.”
GONE FISHING
To say that it’s a bustling day at Lawson’s Landing is to say that people have been mildly interested in the recent goings-on on Pluto.
And we’re in a far-off place in the Marin County galaxy here, in the northern reaches where Tomales Bay spills out into the Pacific Ocean by way of Bodega Bay. Today, the place is positively bopping with mid-summer recreation, and it’s a hoot to behold.
On this particular Saturday morning, Tomales Bay is coming right off an ultra-low “clam tide,” and the clam diggers were out there all morning. Vogler says some of those clam diggers are a little less welcome than others. Lawson’s has been victimized by its own popularity.
“We started to attract other clientele from the Bay Area that didn’t have any concern for conservation for saving some for next year,” says Vogler.
A couple of front-loaders stand at the ready to “splash” boats from their trailers into the bay. The fishing pier that sticks out into Tomales Bay is loaded with crabbers and fishers; there are buckets full of red crabs, people jigging little fry for use as live bait. A lone dude with a surf-fishing rig sits in a beach chair way out on a long sand spit at the edge of the bay, waiting for a bite.
As if on cue, a woman points into the bay to a spot that had earlier been loaded with clammers. Gesticulating wildly and yelling at no one in particular, she exclaims, “Is the game warden around today? Can you please save some for our grandchildren?”
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The woman then strikes up a conversation with an elderly woman in a big floppy sun hat seated on a bench. They begin shouting things at and past each other about having relatives who arrived at Ellis Island, back when, you know, immigration was immigration.
“Trump was absolutely right!” one of them exclaims.
“They want Sharia law in Sacramento, there’s going to be a problem!” exclaims the other.
Well . . . umm . . . errr . . .
How about we take a stroll among those cool trailers! While it’s still going, the trailer community offers a fascinating glimpse into a particular variety of coastal Americana. There are numerous varieties, but the tin-can aluminum rectangles that jut out at rakish angles—those are all over the place and stand out; they are the characteristic Spartan Trailer design from the 1940s and ’50s, when America again took to recreational pursuits after the Great Depression and an even greater world war. The overall feel of the joint is exquisitely ramshackle, but not down-at-the-heel.
Lawson’s Landing is akin to the all-but-vanished American drive-in movie theater, a last vestige of a bygone era centered on leisure and motion—and geared toward working and middle-class families.
And there’s no question that the trailer owners are holding out for that last briny breeze, the end of the endless summer in these salt-encrusted and well-worn domiciles. So far it appears that nobody’s yet left the premises.
Meanwhile, there are decades of accrued character and memories to contemplate and enjoy: glass Japanese mooring balls in the windows of a few trailers, signage with proud declarations that this is our summer home. As a sign of things to come, there are “For Sale” signs everywhere. There’s also a bunch of golf carts, a “Grateful Dead Way” street sign, variously constructed deckage and driftwood bric-a-brac, a living museum of accumulated flotsam and jetsam.
The rent is cheap, $400 to $500 a month, and the view is world-class, looking across to the untrammeled Point Reyes National Seashore wilderness area.
Jerry Knedel is cleaning his boat near his trailer after a morning fishing trip, and he pulls a couple of dripping lingcod and a salmon from his fish box and tosses them to a friend. Knedel and family have been coming here for 56 years, and he speaks of possible scenarios where a hotel like the Ritz-Carlton buys up the land from the Lawson’s, builds a fancy resort, and just like that, it’s all over for the working man. Knedel just can’t see how Lawson’s can swing this state-mandated transition.
The family says it plans to use the freed-up space for non-permanent trailers, which Knedel describes as “1 percent campers,” big rigs in need of multiple hookups, which the Lawsons will install once the long-term trailers are gone.
Knedel says, and Lawson confirms, that the rents have gone up in large measure to help the Lawson’s pay their lawyers and consultants. He recalls that the rent was $19 a month when his family started coming here.
“The spikes in rent,” Knedel says, “were the result of lawsuits to oppose Marin County, the coastal commission and the Marin County supervisors who have drummed up multiple bogus offenses” to drive the business to a brink of unsustainability.
But the halibut bite’s been good, he adds.
Meanwhile, Vogler is in his office in the fishing station, chock-a-block with maps and memorabilia, and there’s a toddler rocking away in one of those egg-shaped thingamabobs. Vogler’s kids are out front tending the retail shack—get your bait, get your ice cream bars here, sit on the bench out in front and take
it all in, xenophobic outbursts
and all.
As he describes the various twists and turns along the way to a final deal with the state, a Lawson’s worker comes in and tells him that a boater has had a problem—his prop was fouled by a fallen marker that was used to indicate a nearby sandbar.
The exchange gives a rich insight into how to properly run a family business that’s geared toward families. “Give him a new prop,” says Vogler, arms akimbo as he laughs, “but he’s not getting another one after this!”
END OF AN ERA
Mike Pfeifle and Robert Roth are friends from Lodi who’ve just returned from a spearfishing adventure out in Tomales Bay. Their quarry was halibut, and Roth says he speared a nice one that morning—but nothing on the order of the 32 pounder he once lanced here.
The men are hanging around in front of a rare sight along the seawall and trailer area: an abandoned trailer that’s all torn-up inside, no doors or windows, totally junked-out.
Pfeifle owns a trailer over on lot A-13 and Roth, with a hearty chuckle, describes himself as his free-loading friend. Roth says he brought two granola bars with him from Lodi but hadn’t yet eaten them: there’s a lot of communal food-sharing going on among the trailer owners.
Roth says he’s been coming here for 30 years but has had a permanent camper here only for the last eight. Roth is a bus dispatcher back home; Pfeifle works in hazardous waste, he says.
Pfeifle says he’s gotten used to the idea that an era is coming to an end, and he’ll keep coming out here even after his trailer’s gone. He’ll keep spearing and gigging halibut, and diving for abalone, and he’ll keep telling the story around the campfire about that time the great white shark
showed up.
He’s going to hold out through the year. “I’m pulling mine out in January,” Pfeifle says, still wearing the wetsuit from the morning spearfishing trip. “It’s been on the horizon,” he says. “I’ve gotten used to the idea.”
Roth leans against the abandoned trailer and revels in what he calls the great appeal of Lawson’s Landing. “The beauty here is the pride that people have in these salted, sometimes rusted trailers,” he says, “the uniqueness that you continually see here.” He speaks of the blending of people, the unforced multiculturalism, and says the resort functions as a sort of “great equalizer,” where people of all races and persuasions gather.
There are pot-luck dinners after everyone’s come back from their fishing trips, he says. “It’s all about the tribal experience, the coming together after the fish-hunting. That’s going away, and that is unfortunate for the next generation.”
Menus can feel like they’re written in stone and made to last forever. At Willow Wood Market Cafe in Graton, executive chef Matthew Greenbaum wanted to revise his menu each year. Foodies, including his own mother and stepfather, begged him not to change anything.
“They insisted I couldn’t cut a starter or an entrée, because that’s what they’d order every time they came for lunch or dinner,” he says on a balmy Wednesday night when the front room is hopping and the kitchen is humming. “Changing a menu is similar to rewriting a story: you don’t want to lose the feeling of the original.”
After years of tweaking and tinkering, Greenbaum finally came up with a new menu in May. While he retained the flavors of the original, he also messed with heads and habits. Judging from the crowds, regulars seem to approve. They come back for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and they bring friends.
When it first opened in 1995, Willow Wood turned out consistently good food, and in the process changed West County palates with dishes, like polenta, that are now standard fare almost everywhere. Then, for a time, Greenbaum’s sister restaurant across the street, the Underwood Bar and Bistro, stole the culinary show and relegated the Willow Wood to the back burner.
Twenty years later, the old kid on the block is better than ever, with new Italian and Mexican dishes aimed to please diners with bolder tastes. And there’s a lot more: new comfort food, new salads, new starters, plus a new kids’ menu and an array of new libations that includes a delicious Kir Royale ($7) and a mimosa with Prosecco and orange juice ($7) that’s sweet yet not sugary.
For kids—there were several who sat quietly and ate happily on my visit—there’s a plate of buttered noodles with fresh Parmesan ($6.75), and a grilled cheese sandwich with tart, sliced apple ($6.75).
For adults, there’s a large, creamy chicken potpie with a flaky crust, along with bite-size carrots, peas, potatoes, mushrooms, celery and onions ($14.75). The spaghetti and meatballs ($14.75), made with finely ground pork, beef and veal, comes with a rich marinara sauce. Not surprisingly, it’s one of the most popular dishes on the menu. Many of us still crave pasta, even if it does have all those nasty carbs.
The grilled pork tenderloin with polenta and a mushroom and leek ragout is tender and good ($19.75). The baked goat cheese with fennel and arugula ($10.50) goes well with the grilled flatbread, which comes with bright green pesto and marinated olives ($10.95).
Not everything has gone by the wayside. There’s no way that Greenbaum could drop the roasted tarragon chicken with garlic mashed potatoes, braised greens and mushroom ragout that can feed two modestly hungry eaters ($20.75).
Four nights a week, there are three-course prix fixe dinners that come with soup or salad and dessert ($29). On Mondays, the kitchen serves a superlative carnitas plate with pulled pork, black beans, tomato and avocado salsas, and warm corn tortillas. On Tuesdays, it’s fried fish tacos with a radish salsa.
At Willow Wood, you can sit and eat at the counter, on the patio in the back or in the main dining room at a small table made for two or a large table perfect for family and friends.
The wine list is not extensive, but the prices are modest. The 2014 Balletto rosé ($8 a glass) is refreshing. The 2012 Seghesio Zinfandel ($9) goes well with the spaghetti and meatballs, and the grilled hanger steak with garlic mashed potatoes ($23.75). It’s the most expensive entrée on the new, souped-up menu.
The waitstaff aim to please. They’re not obtrusive, and they don’t disapprove of anyone’s taste.
On a recent Wednesday, George Segal, Greenbaum’s stepfather—81 years old and starring in ABC’s The Goldbergs—inspected the new menu, and approved. But he chose his longtime favorite: an open-faced smoked salmon sandwich with chive cream cheese, sliced cucumber and tomato ($15.95). For dessert, he went for the traditional root-beer float made with Häagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream and Henry Weinhard’s root beer ($6.75) Some habits die hard—or don’t die at all.
Outside after dinner, the stars began to emerge on the horizon. Kids rode their bicycles in circles, and the hamlet of Graton turned on its lights and settled in for a cozy summer evening.
Willow Wood Market Cafe,
9020 Graton Road, Graton. 707.823.0233. willowwoodgraton.com.
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