At Home On Piety Hill

I have this new friend, Patrick, who I met outside the Mine Shaft in Nevada City. They have a hot spot there and we were both working up some blog entries. I’ve checked out his new creative outlet, Peanut Jelly and Butter, and I have to say I approve. His prose is subtle, yet he is able to awaken some deeply emotional currents within my soul. In the words of Derek Smalls, enjoying coffee with Pat on Tuesdays in Nevada City is like hanging out with “a Shelley or Byron.” Let’s raise a mug of French Roast and give a big bottoms up to my brother and wish him well in this new artistic endeavor! Oh, and perhaps a shave and a haircut will be in order, too!

I was almost late for work on Tuesday. It all began as I got onto Highway 49 traveling north towards Downieville. About a quarter mile out of Nevada City, I came upon a CalTrans tractor crawling down the road at about 5 mph. Normally, the tractor would be hauled on a trailer, but this guy seemed to be enjoying an early morning drive in the country. Ten minutes later and half a dozen cars in tow, he finally pulled over to let us pass.

“No problem,” I thought. “I’ll make it up on the other side of the south fork.” I was scooting right along and when I hit the long straight stretch between Peterson’s Corner and Sweetland Rd., I saw a truck approaching in the other lane, waving a wide load sign out the driver’s window. “That’s unusual,” I thought. I slowed down to about 50 mph, expecting to see a loader or mobile home following along. As I came around the curve I ran smack dab into the annual cattle drive from the high country above Graniteville down to Brown’s Valley! Bovines were spread out all over the road… everywhere! A few cowpokes and some greenhorns were leading the way (the cattle owners will let just about anyone “help” with the drive as long as they can stay on a horse).

At this point, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be late to work. But, it would be worth it and I couldn’t think of a better alibi! I was fortunate to come in right behind the Highway Patrol cruiser leading traffic in my direction. We moved through the herd like salmon heading upstream, weaving back and forth, crawling at about 3 mph.

The herd was so pressed together that we had to stop. I watched the CHP patrol car jiggle back and forth as cattle were bumping into the grill and the fenders. I pulled right up to his tail so they wouldn’t get between us. Occasionally one of the little doggies would bump into the CHP, then start sliding down the driver’s side and stick it’s nose in the trooper’s open window. He would pet it and sort of push it back out. I rolled down my window and invited the calves to stick their noses in my window but, by the time they reached me they were more concerned with catching up to mama.

A couple of cowboys were picking up stragglers and strays with their two Australian Shepherds traveling from shoulder to shoulder, tongues hanging out, eyes darting back and forth with that stressed out look that cattle dogs have when they’re on the job. I exchanged a “good morning” with “Highway Patrolman Dave” bringing up the rear, leading the vehicles in the opposite direction. I made good time from there and arrived at work about two minutes before eight.

By E&P Staff

Published: September 20, 2005 4:37 PM ET

NEW YORK The New York Times Co. announced a staggering staff reduction plan Tuesday that will likely mean some 500 job loses at the company’s many properties, including an expected 45 newsroom positions at The New York Times newspaper and 35 at The Boston Globe.

In a memo to staffers, company chairman Arthur O. Sulzberger, Jr. and CEO Janet Robinson wrote: ‘We regret that we will see many of our colleagues leave the Company; it is a painful process for all of us. We have been tested many times in our 154-year history as we are being tested now.’ They promised this would not impact the quality of the paper’s journalism.

And, that’s what’s so sad about this story… they don’t realize that it is the “…quality of the paper’s journalism” that has plunged “Pinch” Sulzberger, Jr. and his CEO into this morass. I don’t pretend to know for certain what forces are behind the loss of circulation and advertising, but I have a hunch. Perhaps people are finally waking up to the fact that they can get plenty of opinion from The Nation or The American Spectator, which openly admit their bias. The disgraced New York Times has been utterly exposed over the past few years as opinion under the guise of objective journalism. Their days of prestige and dominance appear to be coming to an end and good riddance!

It looks as if blogging will have to take a back seat to more pressing, but uninteresting, endeavors this week. For example, Denise and I are shopping for two newer old vehicles, to replace our really old old vehicles. I forgot how much time, energy and heartache is involved in buying cars.

Then, there is the replacement of our older Compaq laptop with a new iMac G5; I know, this should be exciting, but these computers are becoming more like tools and less like toys to us. The only consolation is that I will be finished with Windows XP, except for my computer at work where I am at least remunerated somewhat for my frustrations. I can only describe wireless networking with Windows XP on a really old Compaq Presario as metaphysical… sometimes we’re connected and, if we’re not, we can restart it a few times, kick it around, let it sit for five hours, restart it again, hibernate it, coax it a little and then, eventually, it will work again.

These fairly straightforward tasks have been compounded by a lot of frustration over the past week or so. Perhaps you have had times like this, when no matter what you do, there is always something, someone or some situation to arise out of nowhere and steal all of your time. It’s as if all my plans were frustrated at every step. I probably got about 10 hours of actual work done all week. Depressing…

Well, if I can just put one foot ahead of the next, I may be able to triumph over the flood of futility I feel I’m drowning in, to get to some fun topics. Here are a few drafts I have in queue:

• I Don’t Read Fiction
• Serendipity and Richard L. Press Fine Books
• Monasticism
• Hieronymus Bosch
• Planned Parenthood Continues To Exploit Hurricane Victims
• The kenosis or self-limitation of Jesus Christ in His incarnation
• US Envoy Warns Syria
• Take Your Pick: Empire or Lifestyle Change

Now, here’s something you don’t often find. But, our friend, (we’ll call her “Jay” to protect her identity from blog trolls and design stalkers), is always showering us with bits of thoughtful vintage technology. This is a rare 1958 prototype of the device, which would iterate and reiterate into the modern PalmPilot. Most people are unaware that personal digital assistants or PDAs (as those of us in the industry refer to them) have been around for some time. Originally, “personal” referred to the fact that you could keep them in a purse or pocket and “digital” denoted the method of searching through the tiny contact cards with your fingers or “digits.” Later, when the miniaturization of transistors and digital (as in 1s and 0s) consumer electronics really took off, makers of these handy gadgets were thrilled to be able to retain the original “digital” label for the “mobile Rolodex.” The interface moved over time from contacts being hand written on durable card stock, to information recorded on interactive touch screen LCDs. Most busy professionals and “techies” embraced the newer technology, but there remains a loyal following of Luddites, who prefer to record their important personal information with a Sharpie on a ‘58 Palm.

No account of the evolution of the modern PDA would be complete without mentioning that Palm was actually the “Johnny come lately” to the conception and original design of these wonders of technology. Two prominent PDA pioneers were Go Corporation and Apple Computer (Apple’s iNewton is pictured with the familiar logo). The iNewton was the first PDA ever to go into production, but it was plagued by ink “blotting” and smearing of the contact records, due to an inferior finish on the contact record cards. Apple sunk millions of dollars into the development of the iNewton, but it was doomed from the start. When Palm entered the market, they were able to build upon the foundation laid down by Go and Apple. Some say that the ‘58 Palm bears an uncanny resemblance to Apple’s first entry into the market and maintain that the Palm is nothing more than a cheap iNewton knockoff. iNewton users continue meeting in user groups, where they exchange custom accessories for their aging PDAs and speculate about how and when Steve Jobs will transform the humble iNewton into the PDA of the next millenium.

The date has been set. Camille and Sean will tie the knot on 21 May 2005 at the Miner’s Foundry in Nevada City CA. Of course, this is contingent upon Camille’s receipt of a large engagement ring and Sean asking for her hand in marriage (face to face), after seeking the blessing of her father (that’s me), in person (that’s his idea). Sean’s initiation into the Salisbury Family circle of trust is promising at this point.

I’m looking forward to this event for a number of reasons. First, ever since Sam deserted me nine years ago, things have been a bit too “girly” around the house. It will be nice to have another male family member to do mannish things with. As soon as Sean arrives, we’ll be going to a monster truck rally at the Arco Arena, then it’s off to Greenhorn Creek in our Toyota 4 x 4 and later we’ll head out to the woods and shoot small animals with high powered rifles or shotguns. A day or two in the smoker and we should have some killer jerky.

In case you didn’t know, Sean is from the UK. Right now, he’s living in London. I think it will be good for the Salisbury / Arnold / Rhodes / Carson bloodline to get a fresh infusion through a bloke from the old country. Things got a little thin there with the introduction of the Biddle line from Denise’s side of the family. True enough, a solid English name, but a Canadian pedigree… nuff said.

Camille loves Sean and so do we.

Today let’s look at some of the things Denise has done around the house. We will begin in the bathroom, which she painted a pale, seafoam green. Notice the playful undersea motif with authentic 50’s plaster cast, airbrushed starfish, seahorses and shells.

We kept the knick-knack shelf on the back wall of the bathroom.

This is one of my favorites off the shelf.

Next, we move into the bedroom, which is nearly complete. Denise found this attractive vanity chair in Canada. I think it really sets the room off.

A few weeks ago, Denise returned to the thrift store where we found the bedroom set. As she entered, she saw a thrift store employee walking out to put the mirror in the photograph out for sale. Denise immediately recognized the mirror as belonging to the set she had bought a couple of weeks previously! It had gotten separated in the back room, but we were happy to reunite it with it’s family.

Finally, we have this elegant whatchamakalit for Denny’s stylish perfume decanters.

Here are the twins on the way to the airport at Raleigh-Durham. This is the last photo from North Carolina on Camille’s phone. I wonder if any tears were shed…

GULF COAST GRIMLY COUNTS ITS LOSSES / Officials fear thousands killed by Katrina / MISSISSIPPI: In shattered town, man and dog survive ride of a lifetime: “GULF COAST GRIMLY COUNTS ITS LOSSES Officials fear thousands killed by Katrina MISSISSIPPI: In shattered town, man and dog survive ride of a lifetime Peter Fimrite, Chronicle Staff Writer Monday, September 5, 2005

Waveland, Miss. — Brian Mollere looked Hurricane Katrina right in the eye, thumbed his nose and lived to tell the tale. The 50-year-old marine construction worker was one of several residents of the Mississippi beachfront town of Waveland to ignore evacuation warnings and survive. He did it by swimming off the roof of his home as it collapsed in the storm surge. He then rode a torrent of water over the tops of trees 1,000 feet inland before he managed to grab onto a house. And all the while he was holding onto his beloved pet Chihuahua, Rocky… Mollere, who ignored pleas from his family and local police, said he decided to ride out the storm with Rocky inside the two-story storefront/home across the street from city hall that he shared with his mother.

He said he woke up at 6 a.m. that day to howling winds and flying debris. By 6:30 a.m., whitecaps were breaking down Coleman Avenue, the city’s main street. Shortly after 7 a.m., a downstairs wall blew out and water rushed in. Forced to the second floor, Mollere and his dog watched as the house filled with 12 feet of water. He climbed out onto the roof of the first floor after the stairway collapsed and the building started shaking.

As the building collapsed, he plunged into the water.

“I figured, well, maybe I’ll just ride it out,” he said, leaning back in a chair on the concrete slab that is the only thing left of his house and puffing on a cigarette. “I was in survival mode.” Holding Rocky with one hand, he maneuvered past debris and the tops of trees, losing a shoe and his shorts in the process. “I’d climb in, out and around trees. I was going over power lines and got tangled in some power lines once,” he said. “I was really afraid of getting electrocuted.”

The flow took him over the railroad tracks. At one point he heard someone shouting and looked up to see people waving from a rooftop. “I just kind of smiled and waved and pointed to indicate that I was going thisaway,” he said. “Finally I came to a big yellow house and grabbed onto the side and pulled myself up the back steps.” To his shock, a family opened the door, fed him and clothed him. “The first thing I said to them was, ‘Can I get some water for my dog?’ ” he said. “Then I just collapsed in their house.”

Mollere’s mother, Jane Mollere, 80, died in the hurricane. She had evacuated Waveland and went to stay with relatives in an inland town. But their house was flooded, and she couldn’t swim to safety.

As for his own salvation, he said, “I guess it wasn’t my time to go.”

Besides, he added, “my father, Charles Brewster Mollere, floated down the same street during Hurricane Camille in 1969 in a flower barrel. He swore that he saw a white horse swimming that day and followed it to safety. I guess it runs in the family.”

DENNIS HOPPER - HOPPER KEEPS BUSH SUPPORT UNDER WRAPS: “HOPPER KEEPS BUSH SUPPORT UNDER WRAPS

DENNIS HOPPER

Veteran actor DENNIS HOPPER rarely tells people he voted for US President GEORGE W BUSH - because he fears being shunned by his liberal colleagues.

The 69-year-old EASY RIDER icon became a registered Republican in the 1980s, supporting late US President RONALD REAGAN’s administration.

And he’s remained faithful to the political party ever since, even though many of his Hollywood counterparts strongly oppose Bush.

He says, ‘I’ve been a Republican since Reagan. I voted for Bush and his father. I don’t tell a lot of people, because I live in a city where somebody who voted for Bush is really an outcast.’
07/09/2005 09:02″

Well, I guess it’s not much of a secret anymore. He must be mistaken about the “outcast” stigma, because the Hollywood establishment is made up of cultural and political progressives. I hear they are a tolerant bunch.

This is Emma from Camille’s phone. I think this photo really captures Emma … still a little girl with the biggest brown eyes in the world. I suppose she really is gone. I’m kinda nostalgic for the good old days… the Carl’s Jr. cups and other debris in the rose bushes, the car mats out on the driveway and all the kitchen cabinets open.

The Shallow End: Penn founders. September 5, 2005. ABC News (Australian Broadcasting Corp): “Penn founders

By Rebecca Keating. Posted: Monday, September 5 2005 .

Rescue founders: Penn is clearly a better actor than he is a sailor. (Photo: AFP)

Sean Penn’s attempt to sail to the rescue of young victims of Hurricane Katrina has foundered.

The actor apparently forgot to plug a hole in the bottom of his boat, which began to take on water as soon as it was launched.

Things then got worse - the boat’s motor failed and those on board had to start rowing.

And then the final straw: bystanders eyeing off the massive entourage on the boat - it even included a personal photographer for Penn - taunted the actor.

‘How are you going to get any people in that thing?’

I bet the relief teams are hoping other do-good stars stick to what they know.”

Camille is in North Carolina visiting Emma. She just sent this photo from her phone. It’s a pretty good likeness. Camille says NC reminds her a bit of England and bit of Maine.

An Unnatural Disaster: A Hurricane Exposes the Man-Made Disaster of the Welfare State
by Robert Tracinski
Sep 02, 2005

It has taken four long days for state and federal officials to figure out how to deal with the disaster in New Orleans. I can’t blame them, because it has also taken me four long days to figure out what is going on there. The reason is that the events there make no sense if you think that we are confronting a natural disaster.

If this is just a natural disaster, the response for public officials is obvious: you bring in food, water, and doctors; you send transportation to evacuate refugees to temporary shelters; you send engineers to stop the flooding and rebuild the city’s infrastructure. For journalists, natural disasters also have a familiar pattern: the heroism of ordinary people pulling together to survive; the hard work and dedication of doctors, nurses, and rescue workers; the steps being taken to clean up and rebuild.

Public officials did not expect that the first thing they would have to do is to send thousands of armed troops in armored vehicle, as if they are suppressing an enemy insurgency. And journalists–myself included–did not expect that the story would not be about rain, wind, and flooding, but about rape, murder, and looting.

But this is not a natural disaster. It is a man-made disaster.

The man-made disaster is not an inadequate or incompetent response by federal relief agencies, and it was not directly caused by Hurricane Katrina. This is where just about every newspaper and television channel has gotten the story wrong.

The man-made disaster we are now witnessing in New Orleans did not happen over the past four days. It happened over the past four decades. Hurricane Katrina merely exposed it to public view.

The man-made disaster is the welfare state.

This journalist goes on to put into words what many have expressed to me, in disjointed declarations and anecdotes, after days of reporting on the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina’s devastation of New Orleans.

I, too, have seen this contrast personally as devastating fires and floods have ravaged our part of the state of Californina over the past twenty years. During the 49er Fire in September of 1988, friends and neighbors banded together to evacuate folks in the deadly path and housed displaced families. I can remember driving in a caravan of pickups to Rough and Ready, where we loaded a house of furniture, while flames were topping the nearest ridge. Everyone pulled together and Nevada County was strengthened. By the way, just weeks before the fire, I had given a ride to the hitchhiking transient, who started the fire by burning toilet paper at his camp on someone else’s property.

The flood of 1997 showed me a different side of the community, when someone threatened to “blow up” government property, because his food stamps were late coming up to communities in the foothills from Marysville. Later, I was explaining to someone that the food stamps were late, because county workers had been allowed to go home and evacuate their families from the rising flood waters in Linda. This “ward of the state” responded, “Don’t they know we live from check to check up here?” That was my epiphany; I realized that there was a mob of people who thought their receipt of a couple hundred bucks of county assistance takes priority over hard working people getting their loved ones, pets and family treasures out of the destructive path of the raging Yuba River.

I think this author is correct: no amount of institutional or government preparedness could have saved New Orleans from the man-made disaster, which built up over four decades of harmful, enabling government policy.

I was cheered to fing that Sadie’s irritated with this nonsense, as well… I’m glad so many folks are seeing right through this sort of childish, scripted… it’s just so tedious… it’s so 70’s.

Well, the big weekend of the annual Sierra Presbyterian Yard sale is here, but it was pretty duddy. I only found four paperback books this year. Last year I came home with a bunch of good books, as well as some electronic gear and toys for eBay. Oh, well. At least Denise found this beautiful gold tissue cozy at the Hospice Thrift Store on Thursday night. I think the bedroom is coming along nicely, don’t you? Camille probably even approves.

I was in the guest room, formerly Emma’s bedroom, and spied one of Sam’s paintings from years ago. I don’t know if Sam would mind me showing this to the world — it doesn’t represent the kind of work he is doing now. If you look closely, you will see a very original, interesting landscape. Yes, those are transparent horizontal and vertical brush strokes. That was a technique he used a lot back then. I like the dreamy look it gives the piece.

It’s one of my all-time favorites (I have a few) and it brings back fond memories. When Sam graduated from the School of the Art Intitute back in 2001, this was projected before the ceremony at the Chicago Theatre. We sure had a lot of fun that week!