At Home On Piety Hill

On Sunday, Denise and I went with Sam to the MOMA. She got in free with Sam, because he’s a member… they even bought a couple of his pieces, but he doesn’t know what they are or when they were shown. How do you like that? Anyway, hope you like the photos here.

Our travels took us to visit our dear friend Dolly on the Mainline in Narberth PA and then on to Park Slope in Brooklyn NY. We had a great time and I will go into a bit more detail later, describing the restaurants and other attractions. I’ve posted a few photos at Next Stop Narberth and Park Slope.

With that said, doesn’t Denise look cute?

Denise and I will be hosting our friend, Steven, a pastor from Uganda during the month of November. Steve was our translator, evangelist and all-around ambassador when we worked in Africa. He has an infectious laugh and broad, warm smile which he flashes often. The last time I spoke to him was through his speaker phone at his home and, when my voice came over the line, I could hear the children break out in laughter as they began jumping excitedly around the house. I got a little teary-eyed.

Yes, it’s true. Denise and I have other children. Besides our children in the US, we have two more families in Uganda. I met their fathers on my first trip there in 2000. Since that time, we have kept in touch and helped them with tuition for their education. In Uganda, education is valued very highly and private school can be a real advantage.

Shammah is about 10 years old and, though we have never met, she loves us dearly and we love her. She is the oldest and has three little brothers. Her letters and photographs portray her as a smart, confident and patient young lady. She would like to become a medical doctor.

You know, a little bit of money goes a long way over there.

Write Fink! has been blogging about old VWs and conjured up a few memories of, believe it or not, young romance. When I met Denise (she was 17 and I was 18), she had a blue 1966 Volkswagen Beetle, much like the one in the photo. Technically, it was Brian, Denise and Diane’s VW, but when Brian was off to school, Denise had seniority and it was eventually handed down to Diane. My heart still thumps when I think of Denise, long blonde hair blowing through the window, leaning into a turn, cranking the wheel with her left hand, while down-shifting with her Dr. Scholl’s clogs. Phew… I better cool down here.

It had one of those crank sunroofs, which meant that we didn’t need racks for my surfboard… just stuck it out the top! It got good mileage, ran well and I remember the radio working. However, it did have one particularly annoying flaw. There was some sort of obstruction in the channel, which the cables ran through to the engine compartment. It seems once every six months, the clutch cable would snap in some inconvenient location, like a busy intersection. Still, we enjoyed that car very much.

There were other Volkswagens in my life. A guy I worked for had a legendary old bus; white with windows and and Union Jack painted on each side on the small back panel. Then, there was Joe’s bus with problems overheating. His solution? “We’ll just pull the engine.” It seems like we spent a lot of time pushing the bus away from a motor on a jack, until the last time when the flywheel came off outside of Cloverdale CA. That’s when being a hippie became a real drag.

Joe M (preserving his annonymity) had a “rock buggy” — an original dune buggy, chopped with floatation tires on the back, which he would sneak out at age 14 (I was 13), late at night, to go forth wreaking havoc (idiots).

Andy had a ‘58 bus with no windows and double doors on each side — one side welded shut. It had a dangerously small motor — 1100 something CCs, I think. The van was totally beat and had “Moon Unit” spray-painted on the side, as well as spirals on each hubcap. Their was a reason behind the junky exterior. This was about 1973 and inside, Andy had a state-of-the-art TEAC cassette player, a big amp and some monster speakers, as well as a comfy mattress. As I recall, we just drove around listening to music real loud.

Denny’s VW was the best!

The pro photos are in and they are beautiful. Hope you enjoy them here.

Sean Bailey and Camille Salisbury were wed on Sunday, May 21 2006. We have a few photos up from the ceremony and reception, as well as snapshots from events during the runup to this special occasion. I will add more photos as they come in from friends, family and the photographer. Camille may want me to edit some out, too. The three collections are Camille’s Wedding Runup, Bailey Wedding Prep and The Wedding of Sean and Camille Bailey. We hope you enjoy them!

P.S. Special thanks to Mike, Steve and Sam for helping out with a number of these.

Yes, it’s back to the drawing board one more time. My beginning drawing class is ending. This is an 18″X 24″ graphite drawing of Sam from a photograph of him, when he was about two years old. I’ll finish it up today and work on my sketchbook. Our instructor is also the head of the Grass Valley Downtown association and our class is on Saturday, so two times when they were having special events, we took our sketchbooks downtown to draw buildings, people, wine bottles and, this last Saturday, classic cars. I have a drawing of the tailfin on a ‘61 Cadillac going now. I still remember the day I took this photo, as a novice following Sam and our dog, Jet, around the yard, photographing anything and everything. By the time I shot this one, he had just about enough and wanted dad to play with him. Denise and I decided to work opposing shifts, so our kids would not have to go to daycare — I did when I was a little older than Sam’s age and look how that turned out! Anyway, it was challenging and fun, because Denise and I were both constantly tired, working lots of overtime and rarely saw one another. On the other hand, I had an experience most fathers didn’t back in the ’70s, going everywhere together — buddies. Sam and I had a ten-speed bicycle with a child seat on the back. In those days, helmets were not in vogue, but Denise and I were fairly progressive. Not only did Sam eat smashed up fresh vegetables and wear sun-dried cloth diapers, but he had a bicycle helmet! I didn’t wear a helmet, so it’s a wonder I didn’t end up with a brain injury, eating smashed up fresh vegetables and wearing sun-dried cloth diapers. Anyway, each day we would go peddaling through the orange groves and pastures in the hills above El Toro. We would finish our ride by flying down El Toro Blvd at about 35 mph. I would get down like a racer and Sam would put a hand on each hip, with his head down on my rear end and we looked like a racing team. Uh-oh, I’m getting misty… I’ll stop here.

Sam’s on a sabbatical in St. Barths and enjoying his time in the sun. So far, highlights include seeing David Letterman driving around a couple of times, in a beat up jeep, and finding an excellent hamburger. He’s painting a bit and relaxing at the residence/artist retreat . Images of Sam’s latest works are up at the Me•di•um site.

Sam’s show in Belgium opened today at Galerie Rodolphe Janssen and a few of the works are posted on the gallery site. A number of his paintings pre-sold and he said he felt pretty good about this show.

Denise and I are enjoying our .Mac account and we have two new slideshows up. One records our trip to Disneyland and the other is a collection of Birthday, New Year and Christmas photos. I really like the ease of sharing photos through iPhoto and .Mac. The greeting cards are great, too. I think the feature I use most often is Backup, to schedule incremental backups to a 250gig hard drive and rewritable DVDs, kept off site. My next project? Create an easy to use FTP site for our families to share photos, music, etc.. Peace!

Levi and Suzanne had us over for lunch today. She and Rosalyn made Denise and I the most wonderful po’boy, er, I mean, disenfranchised person sandwich I’ve had in a long time. Lily and Jack joined us for this splendid repast, garnished with potato chips, Fritos© and the food of the gods (small ‘g” deities), Crunchy Cheetos©.

Levi and I kept the code chatter to a minimum, choosing instead to engage in the topics of interest entertained by the other luncheon guests. We discussed the elements of the “poorboy” or “po’boy” sandwich, which is nearly identical to the “hoagie” or “fresh italian” sandwich, until we realized that those descriptions may seem insensitive to our less fortunate brethren. So, we came up with a more inclusive, less judgmental or demeaning label for the meat, cheese and vegetable sandwich, served on a freshly baked roll or baguette. Yes, this is a sandwich which knows no class or racial or philosophical distinctions. It is truly the sandwich of everyman… drat! I mean, of every person!

As our refection continued throughout the early afternoon, topics of conversation ranged from the resurrection of the dead, to the dangers of dehydration accompanying the stomach flu. Film, music, books, education, art, napping… we covered it all. What a blessed afternoon!

Last weekend Denise and I were invited by Camille to join her in choosing her wedding dress. It’s one of those joys of parenthood, which may only come along now and again in a lifetime. Camille looked at a number of dresses before narrowing down the choices to three. My favorite was the Rene´ Zellweger design, but Camille thought it unflattering (I pulled the photo). Anyway, I attempted to get upstairs where the action was, but got shooed away by the fitters because, evidently, there were a bunch of scantily clad young ladies and they didn’t want some old guy hanging around. Some people are so uptight… jeeeeesh!

All was not lost though, because there was a television at the bottom of the stairs for the men and the 49er’s were upsetting the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. I watched my one obligatory pro football game of the year and I’m just happy I got to see the Niners getting back some self-respect. Then Guadalupe, a landscaper from Elk Grove, introduced himself and his family, congratulated me on our daughter’s wedding and we discussed how blessed we are… really. He was there with his wife, three daughters and his son, who is also his business partner. Lupe, as he introduced himself, was beaming with pride. It was wonderful listening to their conversation ricocheting from one to another throughout the shop, alternating between Spanish, English and a combination of both, with some hip-hop lingo thrown in (I guess I’ll always have a soft spot for South Whittier, the land of my nativity).

I know it’s considered bad luck for the groom to see his bride in her dress before the ceremony, but: a) I don’t believe in such superstitions and: b) I think that it’s only fair to give Sean a head’s up concerning Camille’s style sense. So, what do you think? Camille settled on this little number fashioned by a highly sought-after designer down in Arkansas.

God is good… Camille makes a beautiful bride, even in a North American woodland camo print, don’t you agree?

Here we are outside Emma’s apartment in Carrboro. She is all settled in and is acclimating to southern living. Chapel Hill and Franklin St. are only about a mile down the road and she is within walking distance of a great little restaurant that specializes in health food: grits, bisquits, red hots and fatback.
After the apartment was moved in and decorated, Emma found it a bit gloomy so she hung a few strings of lights and voila! The place is quite comfortable with reasonable rent, utilities paid, cable and high speed internet are included. Emma, like her mother, can sure shop for a bargain!
We found Emma working at a quality vision center near her home. Her optometrist and co-workers seem like a fun-loving, professional eyecare team. We brought them their first taste of See’s Candies and they were pleased.

Emma has visited a local Bible Church and tomorrow evening we will be checking out a “missional church” in Durham, Emmaus Way.

Emma is very resourceful, cheerful and organized in her new setting. It is gratifying and comforting to see our last fledgling out of the nest and doing well. Thank you, Lord.

We’re on the road in North Carolina, visiting Emma and sampling a little bit of Carolina barbecue.

bar·be·cue Pronunciation Key (bärb-ky) n.
1. A grill, pit, or outdoor fireplace for roasting meat.
2. A whole animal carcass or section thereof roasted or broiled over an open fire or on a spit.
3. A social gathering, usually held outdoors, at which food is cooked over an open flame.

The term itself comes from Haiti: “1657, from Amer.Sp. barbacoa, from Arawakan (Haiti) barbakoa “framework of sticks,” the raised wooden structure the Indians used to either sleep on or cure meat. Originally “meal of roasted meat or fish,” modern popular noun sense of “grill for cooking over an open fire” is 1931.”

Emma’s friend Jumon insisted that, if we want some Carolina barbecue, we should start with the best: Bullock’s in Durham NC.

I had the chopped barbecue, which is the traditional spicy sauce, heavy on the vinegar. The battle over red slaw vs. white slaw was settled long ago at Bullocks and I loved their mayonaise-based slaw: sweet and diced fine. The french fries were wonderful and the service was superb. I had sweettea (all one word), but I must admit… it’s too sweet for me and that’s saying something.

Let’s move away from the closeup and you can see Emma’s choice of Brunswick Stew. It was the best with all sorts of beans and distinctive flavors.

Denise had the sliced barbecue, which is pork in a sweet sauce. Every table is served as many hushpuppies as you like and they were by far the best we’ve ever had. They weren’t too dry or too moist, but just right. Onion was up front, but not overpowering.

Denise and Emma couldn’t put those hushpuppies down. Carolina barbecue is different than the barbecue we are used to. Here are a few examples…

In Sacramento, we like Sandra Dee’s the best. It’s hot/sweet with excellent side dishes and desserts. I like the corn with jalapenos and cornbread.
In August, we spent a week with Denise’s brother, sisters and nephews in South Lake Tahoe, where we found a Texas syle barbecue worth mentioning, Womack’s. The meat was expertly smoked and fell right off the bone. The sweet potato pie was killer.

Both the Short and Salisbury families grew up on Chris-n-Pitt’s barbecue, a chain of restaurants true enough — but, as the photo demonstrates, a force to be reckoned with in the universe of American cauterized cuisine.

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.

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.

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…

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.