WELCOME BACK TO THE 21st CENTURY

PARDON THE INTERRUPTION

    About 3:30 AM Monday Lana said it sounded like something fell over in the garage. I mumbled groggily about the cats and went back to sleep.  A few hours later I spotted this. What she heard falling was the power pole with PG&E, Charter and AT&T lines. 

      We were back in the old west and stranded. We were unable to leave our driveway, even on foot. The road was closed as well. 

    Some 12 hours later a PG&E crew that had been following the storm damage down the coast showed up and began the first step of liberation, cutting the lines across the drive and removing the downed pole. 

    The drama heightened. 

    Fortunately our gas fireplace and gas range permitted us some heat and the opportunity to prepare warm food as the power remained off into the night. We read by lantern. I dug out my shortwave radio that had been my steady companion on assignments when I was off the grid and in the wilderness or in areas of conflict.

    The already tired PG&E crew was surprised to learn a pole was down. Their assignment said lines in trees. None the less they labored on until 4:00 AM Tuesday and after about 24 hours we had a new pole and power again.

   But as one day lead to another and to another and to another we were without those essentials of life-the internet, cable tv and phones.  But the high drama continued

   The shot below is of one of my new heroes. Evan was the cable tech who put us back into modernity. He and a delightful local Charter employee Harmony are stars on this street. Neighbors compared notes as we chatted around our drive ways. Trying to speak to a human, let alone a local person over the course of 3 days gave us plenty to talk about. The tech calls were frequently frustrating, useless and it seems we never got a straight answer. When? That is all we wanted to know. Just give us an idea, a guesstimate, tell us something!  Instead we sometimes heard, "we have no report of an outage in your area," a not particularly soothing response, or "turn on your television and tell me what you see." What did they not understand about "my cable is in a mud puddle!?" To be sure there were a few helpful and sympathetic types, but it was not until I was able to speak with Harmony that we finally got straight and knowledgable answers.

   This adventure leaves me with a couple of new wonderments.

       As one of the Charter guys said of an AT&T man who was in the area-he's not a happy guy. Nor were the Charter guys who there a couple of days ago.  Cut lines like these are still

     stringing through the area. When the PG&E crews arrived a lot of lines got cut and tossed. So I wonder why there isn't some courtesy or first response protocol that would enable these utilities to watch out for each others back. Shouldn't/couldn't there be a kind of combined mutual protection? There's a lot of useless hardware, cable, lines and etc. Ever the Scot, I see this and calculate loss that translates as increased costs.

    Another wonderment is why can't businesses and utilities  respond with greater facility when it comes to keeping customers informed. PG&E has an exemplary service of texting or calling with frequent updates so even though you may be in the dark, you are not in the dark about where the recovery is. 

   So with lots of reading caught up on we can now rejoin the 21st Century just in time for the beginning of March Madness!

    See you down the trail.

"BUT YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE" and A WALK IN HARMONY

A PIECE OF HARMONY

    A long lens from Gail and David's captures the panorama of Cayucos and Morro Bay framed by the iconic Morro Rock, Hollister Peak and some of the other "Seven Sisters" peaks that spine the Central Coast toward San Luis Obispo.

      It was one of those spectacular days for a walk along the coast. 

     Hidden away on a quiet cove is a "Chinaman's house," a remnant of local history.

     There was a time when Chinese settlers lived in homes on the shore, often hanging over bluffs.  They harvested and dried kelp for export to China. Historical accounts say George Hearst, father of William Randolph Hearst, forced many of the Chinese to leave by pushing their homes into the sea after he purchased property where they had resided. 

      The current owner has improved the historical building as an isolated get away cabin.

       This stretch of coast offers pristine nature.

  There is a simple joy in an invigorating and mind clearing walk.

     Selfie ops for our eldest Kristin and her fiancé Richard.

  Or a quiet meditation and breather as evidenced by "Ducky," Gail's trusty companion.

THE FIRST NEW YEAR IN CALIFORNIA

Ours that is.

     It was our first Christmas season after being married in April. It was also my first trip to California. We arrived on the 29th or 30th, enough time to get in the swing of the "pickin" New Year's eve party. 

       

Photo Courtesy of Jim Cahill

On the Strand in Manhattan Beach California

      Setting the Scene:  We were lodged at the above house in Manhattan Beach, occupied by our friend Jim, who shared it with a few other guys. We got a room made empty by the travel of one of the musicians who lived there.

     It was directly on the beach and the sidewalk strand. This Indiana boy had never seen anything like it.  Bicyclists, skateboarders, runners, walkers, roller skaters, people on stilts, hand walkers and more and all in a continual parade.  The beach was a show unto itself.  Volleyball players, Frisbee fliers, boogie boarders, picnickers, and all of this in the glory and full tilt life you'd expect of 1969 California beach life. I was indeed a long way from home Toto!

     Some how we had survived the first day and were in the mode of setting up the house for a party. Jim had given Lana and I an assignment to walk to the grocery and liquor store to pick up a few supplies. We were heading up the hill away from the beach when we were stopped in our tracks by blood curdling screams and then a series of what can best be described as whoops and growls. In a flash, from an alley way came two figures running down the street. Both were nude males, that was obvious. Their identities were not.

     One of the lads was wearing a kind of Tasmanian devil mask and he was the creator of the screams. Behind him and in apparent pursuit was a fellow in a Richard Nixon mask, carrying a kind of spear and offering the war whoops. 

     "New Year's eve in California" I said to Lana who looked entirely confused.      

       It was an era when Jim, and our artist friend C.W. spent hours a day playing. Musicians drifted in and out of the house on the strand, and some of the folks in the neighborhood have gone on to stellar careers and fame. The party was to be a gathering of many of the players from the beach community. The music was indeed wonderful, the crowd was mind boggling and the best I could manage was to sit back, lean against a wall, be amazed and enjoy the whole scene.  

       During the course of the evening we met an older fellow who had done a "little singing and little acting" and said he had been "trying to leave LA" for more than ten years.  He said "it's impossible. You just can't get away." He told us he had "left 25 times" and was "always drawn back."

       Lana and I thought a lot over the years of how we might get to LA, particularly to the beach communities where friends lived.  We visited a couple of times a year for many years, but life's flow did not include a Southern California address. Of course we've all added a few orbits around the sun and many of the crowd have dispersed. Those funky beach communities have gentrified.

     Jim is still a SOCAL resident. He's the guy who opened the door on the Central Coast to us, all of those years ago when we made the first of many trips with him to Big Sur. We stopped for coffee and a snack in a little coastal village named Cambria. The seed was planted, the bait was set, the die was cast. 

     We are closing in on 8 years as Cambria residents. I think I'm like others who sometimes take offense at how quickly it is all passing. There are times when I wish my time machine was in working order, just to go back for a visit. 

Thank God the memory file still works and there are photos that now accuse us of youth but also remind us of how rich  life has been. 
      A variation of the California dream, inspired by that first trip, has come to fruition. We come to the end of the year in a place we consider beautiful, laid back, peaceful, full of creativity, wonderful people, eclecticism and eccentricity. Who knows, those Manhattan Beach revelers in masks could be fellow retirees up here. Another escapade like that might get the locals talking, but then again….

    See you down the trail.

      

JUST PLAIN FUN- MR. AT EASE, LOVELY LUNCH AND MISSING COLUMNS-THE WEEKENDER

PLEASANT

    Spring strengthens its presence on the California Central Coast and so a leisurely lunch in Harmony offered opportunities to breath deeply and enjoy the ambiance. 

    I was struck by the texture of the setting and especially with the sun light filtering through Diane's hat. Kind of Monetesque?

   Fortunate to share a Mediterranean moment discussing art and food. 

  and captivated by the sun play. Boomers, taking it easy.

THE MASTER OF TAKING IT EASY

  and finding the perfect balance of shade and sun.

WEEKENDER PUZZLE 
MATCH SHADOW WITH COLUMN

    Two shadows without an appearing matching column.

       All columns are present, but a couple of shadows are missing.

      And so it goes.

AN HONORABLE EVENING

    Lana's recent SUNRISE ON BUD BREAK received an Honorable Mention in the most recent juried show in Cambria's Allied Arts Association exhibition.

See you down the trail.

SPECIAL AND SCENES OF A WALK

SPECIAL

     Giovanni's northern Italian heritage finesses his work.

A grilled chicken ciabatta with brie, carrot pea soup, sans dairy, egg plant burger and pappardelle with pesto made of savoy cabbage, tomatoes and artichoke, served with a Le Cuvier Rose.  

   The charm is of Mediterranean climate and temperament in an authentic California take.  A village, population 18, hosts the epicure pleasing Harmony Cafe.

     Kristin and Lana enjoy the garden sun and color.

     We're reminded of a place on the way to Sorrento in southern Italy where we dined with accompaniment from a bleating goat, grazing on the property as we ate and drank under the stars. Here a chicken may wander past as song birds build the score. 

     The dishes and sandwiches have always been delicious. Giovanni innovates and the creations are tasty, excellent and fondly appreciated. Everyone should eat his Tiramisu! 

     

SCENES OF A WALK
Harmony Road

   See you down the trail.