Up BLEEP Creek

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Recently, I mentioned to a couple of Petalumans that the waters that ebb and flow through their town are polluted—and watched them wince visibly. Ducking the facts won’t help to save the waters, the watershed and the wetlands. To protect the environment, it’ll help to know its history. For much of the past, humans haven’t cared a BLEEP about the beauty of the place. They widened what was once called a creek, dredged it and straightened it so boats could move up and down quickly. Time was money. They also filled in parts of the creek, and built docks and wharfs to unload and reload quickly.

The citizens who want to “Save the Petaluma River” are my friends. Those in the know, however, usually refer to it as a tidal slough. Of course, “river” sounds sexier. If we’re going to preserve it, we might recognize that the tidal slough is sadly polluted, that it’s the most heavily polluted of all the waterways that flow into San Pablo Bay, that it has an excess of nitrogen, hot spots of copper and nickel, and low dosages of oxygen, which isn’t good for fish.

We ought to make this place into a genuine national treasure. To do that, we’ll have to take individual responsibility for the environment. There’s too much pollution from cars and too much BLEEP from dogs that ends up in the tidal slough. I would hate to be up BLEEP’s creek without a paddle. To preserve the watershed we’ll have to start by being more conscious than we are now of the water we waste, the trash we manufacture, the toxins we add to the air and the earth.

Hey, slow down, slow is beautiful. It might even be sexier.

Jonah Raskin lives in Santa Rosa and writes about the environment.

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.

Nearly Showtime

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With the extremely loud noise rumbling from the main theater, concrete dust in the air and 40-odd construction workers running around, one might think the Wells Fargo Center for the Arts would be clearing out its calendar. But in the lobby last week, wearing a hard hat and going over plans amid the constant clamor, executive director Rick Nowlin casually mentions—in a raised voice to cut through the noise—”We have a wedding here on Saturday.”

“Believe it or not,” adds Mark Hagenlocher, director of operations, “we’re in the home stretch here. Our first show is 16 days away.”

In the midst of a $2.8 million remodel that will give the main theater at the 30-year-old performing arts center new floor seats, a new sound system and a drastically overhauled stage and backstage area, the center’s staff is surprisingly calm. They’re confident that the center will reopen on schedule, with the changes boosting the center’s stature in an increasingly competitive industry.

“All of our wish list has been checked off,” says Hagenlocher.

For the main theater, this includes new seating on the floor that can be removed for standing-room-only shows; new raised ADA platforms; a new sound system and speakers; and the removal of two bulky speaker towers and piano storage boxes on either side of the stage, resulting in unobstructed views from the “cheap seats.” New LED aisle lighting, a new color scheme of gray and burgundy and a raised stage are all coming in the next week.

Behind the scenes are fixes that audiences may not notice directly, but will improve the booking capabilities of the center. A baptismal font from the building’s former use as the Christian Life Center has been removed, and along with it a nine-foot platform that performers once needed to walk over to get to the stage. Crews loading in equipment had to do so through the front doors and down the aisle of the theater; now, new eight-foot doors allow load-in from the outside. For the first time, fire sprinklers will be installed, and a raised heating and air conditioning system means 10 feet of extra space above the stage.

“When you have the Peking acrobats in here,” Hagenlocher says, “they’re not going to be scraping the ceiling.”

The remodel comes at a pivotal time for the center, after what Nowlin calls “a rough few years,” echoing most nonprofits weathering the recession. A sale of land for the construction of Sutter hospital next door gave the center a financial cushion, but about 20,000 square feet of the building, rented out to a series of private and charter schools over the years, has been mostly empty since 2011. “The loss of the school was a significant hit. That’s $700,000 of revenue,” says Nowlin. “It helped fund a lot of what we do.”

Then there’s the new Green Music Center at SSU, which in its first year hosted several acts that in the past had played the Wells Fargo Center. But because the Green Music Center’s specialty is in acoustic-based performance, Nowlin says, the Wells Fargo Center can focus now on amplified shows. (Removable seats to create a dance floor are long overdue; Hagenlocher predicts, “We’re gonna have a ballet one day, a hard rock band the next day and an educational show the next.”) The relocation of the Santa Rosa Symphony to the Green Music Center, too, allowed the Wells Fargo Center to rethink the acoustics of the theater, remove bulky choral risers and take over symphony storage.

“We really see ourselves as complementary to what they do,” says Nowlin.

Built in 1974 as the Christian Life Center before turning into a performing arts center in 1981, the former Luther Burbank Center entered into a naming-rights deal with Wells Fargo in 2005. Though that deal expires in 2015, “We’re in discussions right now with Wells Fargo to extend it,” says Nowlin.

Future phases of the center’s remodel include elevators, balcony and restroom renovation, landscaping, a new roof, new windows and doors, a paint job and repaving the parking lot. The total price tag for all phases is $10 million, to be raised from sponsors and community partners. (Like many performing arts centers, ticket sales pay for only a fraction of the center’s overall operating costs.)

The first show in the renovated theater is set for Aug. 16 with Patti LaBelle, in a theater finally distanced completely from its former life as a chapel.

Reminded of the long tradition of artists joking about performing inside a church, Nowlin nods knowingly. “Hopefully,” he says, in the final stretch of renovations, “we won’t hear that anymore.”

Heaven’s Cate

Woody Allen’s Blue Jasmine, partially filmed in San Francisco and Marin, is more ambitious than his recent rom-com travelogues—it’s a tragi-comic rephrase of A Streetcar Named Desire. (The play means a lot to Allen; 40 years ago, he personally burlesqued Blanche DuBois in Sleeper.)

Cate Blanchett, who recently toured as Blanche in revivals of Streetcar from Sydney to New York City, plays the penniless Jasmine. With no choices left, she descends into the San Francisco flat of her all-forgiving sister, Ginger (Sally Hawkins of Happy-Go-Lucky), a friendly grocery store clerk in the Mission. Allen shuttles through time so we can see Jasmine when she was riding high a few years previously as the pampered, bubble-bath-soaked wife of Wall Street baron Hal (Alec Baldwin). Jasmine trusted him utterly, even while an Alec Baldwin character is never to be trusted.

Jasmine works her way back from this plummet, finding a last chance at love with a gentleman caller. The new man (Peter Sarsgaard) is a Tiburon princeling with political ambitions.

Allen splits the apish Stanley Kowalski figure into two separate men. Hawkins’ first husband is played in a comeback role by Andrew Dice Clay, who’s improved, though he’s still Andrew Dice Clay. Ginger’s later beau, Chili (Bobby Cannavale with an Italian version of a Human League haircut), is a garage mechanic who sees through Jasmine’s fancy airs and French perfume.

The Spanish cinematographer Javier Aguirresarobe tries to visualize the dull compliments Allen’s characters pay the City: “It’s so Mediterranean,” they exclaim. “If you can’t fall in love here, you can’t fall in love anywhere.” When on the Marin bay shore, Allen has the sense to turn the camera for a long appreciative view of the water. But he gets no excitement from the Mission. It’s as if Allen envisioned the area as Queens, and once he did, he couldn’t unsee that vision.

Jasmine is rich material for Blanchett. She doesn’t have Tennessee Williams’ language, nor the throbbing accent, but she gets to seethe with craziness, to mutter with it, to sweat through her Chanel suits. If Jasmine isn’t crushed, she gets mauled a little by a drippy pawing dentist, played richly by Michael Stuhlbarg: “You can learn an awful lot about people by looking at their mouths.”

Such gags work—they’re what Allen does best. And Blanchett’s acting will be aptly described as forceful when awards season comes. Yet maybe the word “forceful” isn’t analyzed as it ought to be—doesn’t it define a performer taking something unworkable and trying to beat it into submission?

‘Blue Jasmine’ opens Friday, Aug. 9, at Summerfield Cinemas, 551 Summerfield Road, Santa Rosa. 707.522.0719.

Going Hungry

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As the hunger strike by California state prisoners protesting solitary-confinement conditions entered its third week, at least six activists blocked the entrance to the state building in downtown Oakland on Aug. 5. Around 300 prisoners continue to refuse food as part of a mass statewide protest that began at the Pelican Bay State Prison solitary unit, where some prisoners have been held for years (one inmate has been in solitary for 42 years, according to a recent Mother Jones article) without access to phone calls or family. Carl Patrick, a Petaluma-raised activist, told a reporter from CBS that the goal of Monday’s protest was to call on Gov. Brown and the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation to enter into “meaningful negotiations with the prisoners.” By the end of the day, at least seven arrests had been made after activists entered the lobby of the building.

OCCUPY MEDIA

Want to learn how to get your point across to newspapers, radio and other media outlets? Peter Phillips, professor of sociology at Sonoma State University and former director of Project Censored, leads a basic media skills training on Aug. 12. Attendees will get tips on how to write press releases and public service announcements, how to organize a media campaign and how to develop interview skills and talking points. The pre-registration deadline is Aug. 9; donations are requested. The event is sponsored by Occupy Sonoma County on Monday, Aug. 12 at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation. 547 Mendocino Ave., Santa Rosa. 6:30pm. $5–$20 donation. For more information, contact em*****@****co.org.

Spirit Works

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Gin. Blamed for the ills of society in the 1700s, studiously eschewed by young drinkers today in imitation of a fictional secret agent’s preference for vodka martinis—shaken, not stirred—the spirit has hardly been hailed except as a melancholy pairing with an anti-malarial tonic favored by British colonials. But, says a young couple now bringing craft-made gin to Sebastopol, you don’t know proper gin until you’ve sampled a dram of theirs.

Husband and wife team Timo and Ashby Marshall recently opened Spirit Works Distillery in Sebastopol’s Barlow project after a four-year journey that began when they decided, “Let’s make gin.” Timo’s from southern England, where his family has made sloe gin for years. But it’s Ashby who became the master distiller, after the couple took distilling courses and apprenticeships to learn the craft. “We’re very lucky,” says Timo, who does much of the talking while Ashby covers most of the wry smiling. “She’s got the skills.” In distilling, they say, there’s a knack for it which mere instruction can’t provide.

At first, the Marshalls cast about for a distillery to partner with, but they couldn’t find any in California up to their standards. “There’s a lot of smoke and mirrors in spirits,” says Timo. For instance, many craft distillers use bulk alcohol from a factory. The Marshalls decided to make theirs from grain to glass. With the help of family-and-friends investors, they installed a gleaming set of German-made tanks and copper rectification columns in their Barlow warehouse.

Each batch starts with a one-ton pallet of organically grown, California red winter wheat. After being distilled to a purity of 95 percent, then cut with filtered water, it’s vodka, a small sample of which is as pure and creamy as straight booze can be on the palate. A signature blend of herbs and citrus rind, which Ashby zests on production days, go into the final gin cook.

If you thought Bombay Blue Sapphire was as good as it gets, here is new territory on your tongue. With a deep note of citrus and ethereal notes of juniper and herbs, it’d be a shame to dirty this up with olives and whatnot, whether stirred or shaken. Under current law, Spirit Works cannot sell product out of the tasting room (“A Fair Pour,” Bohemian, April 3, 2013); it’s going for about $28 at Santa Rosa’s Bottle Barn.

Luckily for the G&T crowd, yes, artisanal tonic made in California is now available. Straight wheat whiskey is on the way, which will be aged in charred American oak barrels, plus sloe gin—”Not the stuff,” says Timo, “you drank in high school.”

Spirit Works Distillery, 6790 McKinley St., Ste. 100, Sebastopol. Thursday–Monday, 11am–4pm. No fee. 707.634.4793.

‘Like a Zombie Movie’

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“We’re all very lucky to be alive,” says Kalei Yamanoha, accordionist for Gypsy-klezmer project Oddjob Ensemble, the day after a horrific car accident on I-80 in Nevada. The crash happened at about 5pm as the band, which features members of Church Marching Band and the Crux, headed to play some shows in Colorado.

“The driver hit the rumble strip on the side of the road, veered off and overcompensated,” says Yamanoha. “The car started veering back and forth, lost control and we flipped four times into the median.”

Everyone was wearing their seatbelts, and once the 1995 Mercedes station wagon stopped—landing upside down—all inside were able to walk away. “When we all crawled out of the car, we were covered with blood and dust,” explains Yamanoha. “It was like a scene out of a zombie movie.”

Within minutes, about 10 Samaritans, including an off-duty EMT, stopped to help. Clarinetist Travis Hendrix busted his lip, fiddler Annie Cilley hit her head and cut her shoulder on a broken window, trumpeter Josh Jackson got minor abrasions to the head and arms, and Yamanoha suffered tissue damage in his back. An upright bass and violin were destroyed, and the car was left totaled in a Nevada tow yard.

But the accident won’t stop the musicians from getting back out on the road. There’s a Crux tour in a month, and Church Marching Band plays the Wunderkammer Festival in Santa Rosa’s Railroad Square on Aug. 25.

“The way the accident happened, I’m surprised we’re all walking and OK,” adds Yamanoha, the shock still evident in his voice. “This is what we do for a living, so we’re not going to stop.”

Flavor Trippin’

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Hey, you. ‘Sup? Do you party? Yeah, me too. Hey, I’ve got something I bet you’ve never tried. Wanna go into the kitchen and take a hit? Yeah, it’s just this little red tablet. Let it dissolve on your tongue—don’t rush it, or it won’t work. Now taste this lemon and try not to freak out, OK? Weird, right? It’s sweet! It’s not sour at all! Here, try a lime.

The tablet I gave you is Synsepalum dulcificum, sold as miracle fruit, a completely legal, organic berry that can be grown in your house, even. It turns sour into sweet, but preserves all other flavors that go into your mouth. That means that, though it will be sweeter, the banana will still taste like banana, the strawberry like strawberry and the snozberries taste like . . . well, you get the picture. Cool, right? Keep eating stuff, try different things. It’ll last for about two hours or so, but be careful not to eat too many lemons—just because you can’t taste the sour acidity doesn’t mean it won’t burn a hole in your gut if you eat too much.

Have you ever had pineapple—on miracle fruit? Oh, man, it’s, like, soooo much more intense. It’s like someone put a pineapple inside a pineapple and covered it with a pineapple-reduction sauce. The sweetness is unreal, it’s like a different kind of sweet, like stevia or agave or something. It’s not quite like sugar, but it doesn’t taste fake like Splenda, either. Oh, and Greek yogurt is like soft serve ice cream. Just right out of the container. The best kind is the nonfat, because it’s a little more sour. The more sour something is, the sweeter it tastes when you’ve popped a miracle fruit.

Let me warn you, though: everyone has a different reaction. Some feel a stronger flavor shift, and some apparently taste bitter foods as somewhat sweet. I don’t have that reaction. I tried balsamic vinegar, like someone suggested, and, damn, it was nasty. It was like taking a sip of really bad vinegar, like worse than normal. And onions? Forget it. It enhanced the spiciness and raw flavor of the onion. It was pretty much unbearable. Some people say Guinness beer is tastier on miracle fruit, but I think it still tastes like delicious Guinness beer, with little or no change.

The berry comes from West Africa, and has been eaten there by indigenous peoples for hundreds of years. It was discovered by the Western world by explorers in the 18th century. It works through the protein miraculin, which binds to taste buds and induces sweetness when it comes in contact with acids. Sounds like a James Cameron movie, right? Too fake to be real, like mining an alien world for “unobtanium.” But it’s real, and I can get it for you whenever you want. Just give me, like, $2 per hit. That’s the friend price, you know.

Of course there are other foods that change the chemistry of flavor. Anyone who’s eaten spicy food knows the relief that comes from sugar, especially dairy sugar. I once absentmindedly touched my finger to my lips after cutting habañero peppers, and spent the next hour with my face covered in yogurt and sour cream, moaning in pain and screaming at everyone, “This isn’t funny! It hurts!” Dairy was the only thing that helped.

And there’s salt to counteract bitterness. I used to get the weirdest looks when I’d go into the coffee shop by the office and put a dash of salt into my black coffee. But, hey, the coffee shop made bitter coffee and I didn’t like cream, so this helped me get a caffeine fix without sacrificing too much taste.

But, boy, this miracle fruit. Ya know how pot is used to help cancer patients and stuff? Miracle fruit could seriously help diabetics curb their sugar craving. Instead of satisfying a sweet tooth with a cookie-inspired insulin spike, pop a miracle fruit and eat some unsweetened Greek yogurt. It’s nutritious and has probiotic properties, which aids in digestion. It’s all good, right? Wrong.

Even though it’s legal to buy, consume and sell, its extract is classified as a food additive and would be subject to USDA review, which would take years. In fact, in 1974 Robert Harvey was all set to launch a company selling the berry’s extract, primarily marketing it as a health product to diabetics. The USDA had been on his side, leading him to believe it would be labeled “generally recognized as safe.” He was all set to market products like “miracle berry lollies,” which tested better than regular ones with focus groups.

But a week before the launch, the USDA changed its mind and classified it as an additive, requiring more years of testing. Harvey couldn’t afford it, and the company folded before it even began—some say because of behind-the-scenes finagling from the Sugar Association, a sugar-industry lobbyist (not a soul pop group from the ’70s, as I first suspected).

But, hey, at least we can still get the tablets and berries for home use. I’m gonna get some people together and have a flavor-tripping party. Put a bunch of sour stuff out and give everyone a hit of miracle berry. Wanna come? It’s just two bucks a hit—friend price.

Magic Act

‘Torture! That’s the best word for it. Torture!”

Rohnert Park actor and educator John Craven is describing the wildly complicated character of Prospero, the primary protagonist of William Shakespeare’s tragicomic play The Tempest.

“And if torture is what Prospero is feeling, then that’s exactly what I’m feeling,” Craven says with a gentle laugh. “This is a very tough role, Prospero. It’s a real challenge, and every rehearsal brings huge new discoveries. It’s pretty tough.”

Ah, the life of a Shakespearean actor.

The Tempest—with Craven in the lead, Sheri Lee Miller directing and a crack team of local all-stars filling out the colorful cast—opens a three-week run this weekend at Sebastopol’s Ives Park, part of Main Stage West’s Sebastopol Shakespeare Festival. Of course, along with its complexity and depth, and despite the sufferings of its central character, The Tempest is also one of Shakespeare’s sweetest, funniest, most magical, most emotionally satisfying plays.

Once the Duke of Milan, the embittered magician Prospero has spent years on a mysterious island. Marooned long ago by traitors (Peter Downey, Anthony Abate), Prospero has raised a daughter (Rachel Quintana), all while mastering the art of magic, preparing for the day he might exact revenge on those who put him there. When those enemies, traveling across the sea, finally do sail within sight of his island, Prospero summons the tempest of the play’s title to shipwreck them all—and what begins as Prospero’s revenge turns into something different, as the old man discovers a long lost sense of hope, humanity and forgiveness.

And then there’s some stuff about a drunken butler (Eric Thompson), a troubled monster named Caliban (Keith Baker) and the beautiful spirit Ariel (Danielle Cain), who is smarter than everyone and does awesome magic tricks. Beneath it all, says Craven, the play is about growing old, but it’s also about growing up and growing wise.

“Prospero,” Craven explains, “has come to a place where he’s wrestling with all kinds of different feelings, struggling with his own sense of wounded humanity. He knows he couldn’t survive without forcing the two residents of the island, Ariel and Caliban, to work for him, and that eats at him, it bothers him. And at the same time, he has a daughter to bring up, and the fear that he might die and leave her alone on this island—well, there’s the torture again.”

Though Craven—long considered one of the best and most dependable actors in Sonoma County—has played many parts over the years, he’s only tackled Shakespeare twice. He played King Leontes in The Winter’s Tale at Cinnabar and the melancholy Jacques in As You Like It at the Sebastopol Shakespeare Festival. But he’s never faced a Shakespearean character as complex and rich as Prospero. It’s largely through the guidance of director Miller, Craven says—with whom he’s worked extra hard to dig beneath the surface—that he’s come to understand Prospero, whom he says he never really thought about playing until asked.

“I’m part of a company,” he says simply, “and they decided to do this play, and I said yes. I never dreamed of playing this part, like some actors do, but now that I’m doing it . . . well, it’s like I said.”

Yes, of course—torture. But, in this case, it’s the very best kind of torture. And just like Prospero, Craven knows that it is never too late to learn new things.

“Every day, at every rehearsal,” Craven says, “I go in with a blank slate, ready to work with Sheri, ready to engage with the cast, ready to learn.”

Me + Eat = Meat

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There are two ways to view Cochon 555 Heritage Fire in St. Helena. With close-up photos of chefs, maybe set to some Ratatouille-esque jazz and lots of posed, happy smiles, it looks like a high-end, winery food event. But that wouldn’t be Cochon.

No. It’s so tied to fire and meat that it used to be called “Primal.” Cochon tours 13 cities and crowns a “King and Queen of Porc” (won in 2011 by Santa Rosa’s Duskie Estes and John Stewart of Zazu). Because of this, it’s best imagined through photos of wide-eyed chefs in bloody butcher coats, knife in hand, laughing maniacally while staring at a flayed-out side of beef on a makeshift cross tilted over a massive bonfire while huge, slow, doom-metal guitar riffs from Sunn o))) and Isis shake rib cages of the living. Specters of slaughtered pig, goat, squab, thresher shark, sturgeon, duck, cow, rabbit, lamb, lobster and chicken haunt the grounds, their spirits permeating the bones of all who consume them. Oh, and there’s wine, too. Like, really, really good wine.

The chef list reads like a who’s who of cooking, with meat masters from the Thomas, A16, French Laundry, CIA at Greystone, Fifth Floor and many others. Cochon 555 Heritage Fire takes place Sunday, Aug. 11, at Charles Krug Winery. 2800 Main St., St. Helena. 3pm. $125–$200. 707.967.2200.

Real Dough

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‘We’re not just going to give anyone a back patch,” says Nick O’ Rooney, aka Papa Pizza, the 22-year-old guitarist from local fuzz-garage duo Sharky Coast. “You start out as a ‘Dough,’ you gotta show up to see bands, you have to be willing to put up flyers and help promote it, to tell all your friends about it.”

O’Rooney and 20-year-old Ian O’Connor, aka Sergeant Salami, along with O’Rooney’s girlfriend Denise Fraizer, are the forces behind the Pizza Punx. You may have seen their old-school cut-and-paste flyers for shows posted up on light poles all over town.

It’s not easy to become a pizza punk. To get fully initiated one must complete the herculean task of eating a large pizza in its entirety while watching Rock and Roll High School in one sitting. “If you can’t do that, you can’t be called a Pizza Punk,” says O’Rooney.

Beyond the PBR-and-pizza-grease haze, the two are dead serious about getting quality, underground bands to play in the often-overlooked locale of Sonoma County. At the Pizza Punx headquarters—a garage in a quiet neighborhood near the Sonoma County Fairgrounds, decorated with flyers, a few rescued pieces of furniture, a television and a drum kit—O’Rooney pulls out four large pieces of paper on which he’s meticulously written the names of over a hundred current, West Coast bands. He and the other Pizza Punx have reached out to every single one, asking them to come to Sonoma County with the guarantee of a place to sleep, do laundry, eat a meal, play a show and get a bit of gas money.

The effort has produced five months of solid lineups, with headliners like Cool Ghouls, Indian Wars, White Mystery and Acid Baby Jesus, from Greece, playing shows at houses in South Park and at the “Ranger’s House” in Howarth Park, where shows have been surprisingly trouble-free. (Only one band—CCR Headcleaner—was loud enough for the neighbors to call the police.)

The next Pizza Punx show, on Aug. 8, features NoBunny, the creepy bunny-mask-and-underwear-loving pop-garage persona of Justin Champlin (Like a “cuddly G.G. Allin,” says O’Rooney), along with Burger Records sweet pop duo Summer Twins, out of Riverside. The only rule is that it has to be all-ages because, really, in the end, they’re doing this for the kids.

“The whole world is trying to absorb those kids, sell to them, try to get them to buy Hot Topic bullshit,” says O’Rooney. “And we’re the opposite of that,” adds O’Connor.

Or as the Pizza Punx would say, “Keep it real, dough.”

Up BLEEP Creek

Recently, I mentioned to a couple of Petalumans that the waters that ebb and flow through their town are polluted—and watched them wince visibly. Ducking the facts won't help to save the waters, the watershed and the wetlands. To protect the environment, it'll help to know its history. For much of the past, humans haven't cared a BLEEP about...

Nearly Showtime

With the extremely loud noise rumbling from the main theater, concrete dust in the air and 40-odd construction workers running around, one might think the Wells Fargo Center for the Arts would be clearing out its calendar. But in the lobby last week, wearing a hard hat and going over plans amid the constant clamor, executive director Rick Nowlin...

Heaven’s Cate

Woody Allen's Blue Jasmine, partially filmed in San Francisco and Marin, is more ambitious than his recent rom-com travelogues—it's a tragi-comic rephrase of A Streetcar Named Desire. (The play means a lot to Allen; 40 years ago, he personally burlesqued Blanche DuBois in Sleeper.) Cate Blanchett, who recently toured as Blanche in revivals of Streetcar from Sydney to New York...

Going Hungry

As the hunger strike by California state prisoners protesting solitary-confinement conditions entered its third week, at least six activists blocked the entrance to the state building in downtown Oakland on Aug. 5. Around 300 prisoners continue to refuse food as part of a mass statewide protest that began at the Pelican Bay State Prison solitary unit, where some prisoners...

Spirit Works

Gin. Blamed for the ills of society in the 1700s, studiously eschewed by young drinkers today in imitation of a fictional secret agent's preference for vodka martinis—shaken, not stirred—the spirit has hardly been hailed except as a melancholy pairing with an anti-malarial tonic favored by British colonials. But, says a young couple now bringing craft-made gin to Sebastopol, you...

‘Like a Zombie Movie’

"We're all very lucky to be alive," says Kalei Yamanoha, accordionist for Gypsy-klezmer project Oddjob Ensemble, the day after a horrific car accident on I-80 in Nevada. The crash happened at about 5pm as the band, which features members of Church Marching Band and the Crux, headed to play some shows in Colorado. "The driver hit the rumble strip on...

Flavor Trippin’

Hey, you. 'Sup? Do you party? Yeah, me too. Hey, I've got something I bet you've never tried. Wanna go into the kitchen and take a hit? Yeah, it's just this little red tablet. Let it dissolve on your tongue—don't rush it, or it won't work. Now taste this lemon and try not to freak out, OK? Weird, right?...

Magic Act

'Torture! That's the best word for it. Torture!" Rohnert Park actor and educator John Craven is describing the wildly complicated character of Prospero, the primary protagonist of William Shakespeare's tragicomic play The Tempest. "And if torture is what Prospero is feeling, then that's exactly what I'm feeling," Craven says with a gentle laugh. "This is a very tough role, Prospero. It's...

Me + Eat = Meat

There are two ways to view Cochon 555 Heritage Fire in St. Helena. With close-up photos of chefs, maybe set to some Ratatouille-esque jazz and lots of posed, happy smiles, it looks like a high-end, winery food event. But that wouldn't be Cochon. No. It's so tied to fire and meat that it used to be called "Primal." Cochon tours...

Real Dough

'We're not just going to give anyone a back patch," says Nick O' Rooney, aka Papa Pizza, the 22-year-old guitarist from local fuzz-garage duo Sharky Coast. "You start out as a 'Dough,' you gotta show up to see bands, you have to be willing to put up flyers and help promote it, to tell all your friends about it." O'Rooney...
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