We made a rare visit to the far east side of the Paso Robles Appellation and collected a few scenes to share.
Our destination was the Pear Valley Winery, where a local group held a luncheon meeting. We left fog at the coast and drove into 80 degree sunshine and mild breezes.
Lana was asked to decorate tables with her Pear cards and ceramic pieces.
It's a beautiful setting and a micro climate apart from Cambria.
A couple of simple musings about the fortune of doing something, more specifically about being able to do it.
I never got over looking out of windows. From elementary school through my days in the corner office as a CEO, the great outdoors always called to me. I would rather be out there instead of inside. I regretted seeing beautiful days flow by while I was desk bound.
PLIMPTON DID IT
Some of the appeal of George Plimpton's writing was his
ability to get out and get into things, a whole lineage of fantasy life episodes. He called it Participatory Journalism.
The new documentary PLIMPTON! will premierThursday evening at the AFI Discovery Channel Silverdocs Festival in Washington, I hope it travels widely.
When president of the Writers Center I had a chance to spend a couple of days with Plimpton. A long lunch led to an afternoon of great stories, anecdotes and the trigger like urge to launch into a new adventure. That evening at a cocktail party, watching Plimpton fill rooms with charm, grace and wit was some of the best theatre I've seen.
Part of my role was to introduce him at the main lecture of the weekend "Gathering of Writers." As the weekend had progressed it became apparent part of my job was to "keep track" of George.
The Sunday afternoon keynote address time loomed and board members were frantic to find George.
"He went that way, saying he wanted to take some air"
one of the lobby registrants told me pointing up the block.
We were meeting in an historic building that anchored
an avenue of pubs, bars, bistros and restaurants. I dashed off as the clock was ticking down to introduction time.
I'd duck into a place, look over the room and ask the bartender or greeter, "Have you seen George Plimpton in here?"
"I've heard a lot of pick up lines," a man said from his bar stool in one of the pubs, "but nothing like that?"
It did seem a crazed mission and I was probably starting to get a bit nervous.
It all ended well. After several frantic minutes, it dawned on me where I might find him.
It was in an old, worn tavern, that had been a favorite of newspaper employees, reporters and printers, for decades.
There, back in the kitchen behind the bar with the cook sat George intently watching an old television.
"Oh. Is it that time already?" He said as I came through the door.
I was pleased to see a growing reaction to the reports about Google's accountability. The info giant has reported
how government's around the world lean on them for information about users and push them for censorship.
Since beginning this blog I have written about the
"INFORMATION WARS." This reprises one of the more chilling accounts.
WHO CONTROLS YOUR SEARCH?
Maybe it is a leap, but perhaps it is closer to a chilling reality than we would like to admit. I acknowledge there is a bit of a stretch here, but it is one we should well consider. In George Orwell's 1984, aside the from the image of Big Brother watching, there was indeed the presence of the thought police.
"Who controls the past controls the future: who controls the present controls the past."
"Thoughtcrime does not entail death, thoughtcrime IS death"
George Orwell 1984
Now to the relevance of this to you and your life here in cyberspace.
Did you know someone is already "interpreting" your thoughts.
Take a few minutes to watch this and consider the consequence.
The tailoring of a search, to your specific parameters, may seem a benefit. But think of the underpinning dynamic. Your information is analyzed and choices are made, ostensibly to assist you, but they are choices that eliminate, prioritize and assume certain values about you, without the benefit of your input. That appears to be the beginning of a slippery slope. THE HAUNTING IMAGE In case you've forgotten, here is a trailer of the movie that followed Orwell's visionary novel.
Some of you may recall the "free speech movement" and the more recent court cases orbiting around the First Amendment. We have a history of a vigorous defense of liberty and freedom of thought and speech, absolutely. The age of convenient communication and information brings a world to your keyboard, smart phone or pad. But the glow that comes in the marvelous flow of information and the wondrous world of apps, could occlude a more sinister presence. Data mining, surveillance of your private chats, and control of the information we voraciously consume could begin to turn against us. We simply need to be mindful, aware, vigilant, and never cede an inch of freedom nor control of what we put into our minds. And we must be diligent about the sources of our information.
"He wondered, as he had many times wondered before, whether he himself was a lunatic. Perhaps a lunatic was simply a minority of one"
"Nothing was your own except the few cubic centimetres inside your skull." George Orwell 1984
When I told someone we were going to the Live Oak Music Festival they said "Oh, Woodstock West!"
For 24 years they've gathered at the Live Oak campground in the Santa Ynez mountains just north of Santa Barbara for a Father's Day Weekend of music and good times. "Peace, Love and Dirt" as they say.
Live Oak is sponsored by KCBX, Public Radio for California's Central Coast. It features a wide array of music, living up to the Festival moniker. It is also a major cultural event. This post is a photo odyssey, attempting to capture a bit of the breadth and nuance of Live Oak.
The drive to it and the setting are gorgeous, along the mountains dotted with forests and copse of Live Oak. Once you are there, it's up the hill, on foot or on hay.
One glimpse of the main stage area and you understand the name. The Live Oaks also provide a blessed shade.
The music flows from breakfast to midnight as the sun arcs through canopy and sets behind the mountains.
The spectacular setting is bounded by a kind of main street.
The vendors and "shops" range from tie dye to massage. Our friend Mike, a veteran of Live Oak, played his flute at the massage tent.
My favorite was the shop selling guitars and banjos made from an unbelievable array of material.
I've posted a short YouTube video below-Sound Check.
Clustered around the hills were thousands of camp and RV sites, a virtual city. And almost everywhere you'd see and hear people jamming.
There was a second stage, Stage Too, for workshops, and interaction with the artists.
And there were the "sights!" Some of them just inexplicable.
Not everyone opted for a straw hat, but they are the popular head gear.
ABOUT THOSE INSTRUMENTS-
SOUND CHECK
It is easy to see why people keep going back. Woodstock West? No, I don't think so. This is a multi generational, family event. Maybe Son or Daughter of Woodstock is more accurate but it is a uniquely California mellow gathering. Next year will be its 25th Anniversary. For the record, the music was superb!
