This beautiful place is directly behind our host’s home — it is working agricultural land and a nature preserve with public hiking trails. More on polders in this cool wikipedia entry — scroll down to learn polders’ role in democracy in the Netherlands.

But first, a note to any burglar-readers of the nightnote. Ajax the Rottweiler is not coming with us on this vacation. He’ll be around and he’s very serious about the perimeter, if you know what I mean. Plus: Thanks to the community organizing of my neighbor Nicky, we are now a neighborhood watch block. So the neighbors are serious about the perimeter, too.

OK, here we go:

Saturday, September 13-14: We’re off to Goleta, CA, our less-expensive Santa Barbara alternative and home to the Sunday Santa Barbara Farmers Market. We’re staying at the Super 8 Motel. Never stayed at a Super 8 before, but the price is right and the reviews okay, so here we go. From Goleta we’ll visit Santa Barbara and the wineries of the Santa Ynez valley. Also on our list: Indo-China Market in Goleta, C’est Cheese and Our Daily Bread in SB, and quick stop in touristy Solvang for some aebleskiver.

September 15-17: Visit Chocolate Maya in SB before heading to Paso Robles. From our base in Paso Robles: more wineries, wine-country picnics, visits to a lavender farm, fruit farms, olive oil presses, Fermentations tasting room in Cambria, Linn’s Ollalieberry pie, a Luffa farm, a soak in a private hot tub at River Oaks Hot Springs, dinner at Artisan. We’re staying at the nicely affordable Adelaide Inn.

September 18-20: It’s off to Monterey for luxury and adventure! We’re staying at the Sanctuary Beach Resort. Dinner at Aubergine. Val is flying with the Air Combat squadron over the Monterey Bay on Friday and on Saturday we’re both taking a glide over the mountains! Plus: Picnic on the beach, exploring Salinas’ famous taco truck scene. After our glider flight, its off to Berkeley and our Bay Area digs — depending on how my stomach handles the flight we might make a stop at Joan and Peter’s German Restaurant in San Juan Bautista, Watsonville for fruit, maybe Gilroy for garlic or Santa Cruz for the seaside.

September 20-22: Berkeley and San Francisco. Wow, hotel rates in San Fran have gone through the roof! and this is a crazy-busy week — some kind of monster Oracle convention in town. Our long-time favorite, The Griffon (where Val and I once got a suite and hosted a kick-ass Twin Peaks Damn Good Pie Party back in the Society of Newspaper Design days) was booked, as were dozens of suggested alternatives. So I started looking at Berkeley and there it was, the well-reviewed Rodeway Inn: $107.00 AAA rate. Free parking! woo! Checked it out in Google Street View. Five mins from BART, 25 mins from SF, minutes from the famous Chez Panisse, where we have dinner reservations in the Cafe for 6 p.m. on Monday nite. Why so early? Gotta drive to an hour and a half to Healdsburg after dinner. Trust me when I say it will be worth it. Also on tap for the Bay Area visit: Takara Sake Brewery in Berkeley; Chinatown: Golden Gate Bakery for egg custard tarts, Kam Po kitchen for takeout roast duck and pork; Yank Sing for dim sum; the Ferry Building Market; Imperial Tea Court and Epicurious Garden in Berkeley.

September 22-24: NoCal Wine Country. Before you say it, I know! You can’t have just two days in Sonoma/Napa! But that’s what I have. The trip has lots of moving parts and this is how it shook out. So it’s two days at Healdsburg at the Dry Creek Inn Best Western. On our list: Locals Tasting Room in Geyserville, an antipasti-and-primi-only dinner at Cena Luna, the Russian River Wine Road.

More details to come. A preview:

September 24: Travel to Klamath CA. Redwoods!

September 25: Travel to Ashland, OR. Shakespeare! Coriolanus at the Oregon Shakespere Festival. Wee! new-to-me Bard! (Staying at La Keen-ta)

September 26-October 1: Portland and Pacific Northwest exploration.

October 1-4: Seattle to visit the fabulous M&M!

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]]> http://thenitenote.com/2008/09/09/i-love-it-when-a-plan-comes-together-part-i/feed/ 5 http://thenitenote.com/2008/08/07/applewood/ http://thenitenote.com/2008/08/07/applewood/#comments Thu, 07 Aug 2008 07:04:50 +0000 kate http://www.thenitenote.com/blog/?p=573 So at the risk of this becoming a blog about my sick iPhone obsession, I’ll relate today’s iPhone moment: I’m at the BevMo looking for reasonably-priced wine for Josh and Adrie’s wedding brunch, checking some notes I e-mailed myself on the phone, when it starts to buzz and I get an e-mail from google alerting me that the long awaited announcement of the ticketing procedure for Barack Obama’s DNC’s acceptance speech had just been made at a Colorado news conference. I tapped — yeah, that’s the new click — the link for the story in the Merc and then tapped a link at the end of story which took me to a page that let me select my home state and gave me a phone number to call to get in line for the tickets. I tapped the number and the phone dialed it right up and in less than 90 seconds, I was giving the DNC my info for a ticket. So less than five minutes after the story moved on the wires, from a liquor store in Long Beach, I was already in line for my ticket. Ah, that apple feeling — tingly!

End notes: 1. Tickets will be free. And the DNC will begin giving them out beginning August 12 — when they will be calling or e-mailing me and the 69,999 other people who will make it in. 2. I got this cool protector film for my iPhone screen — and it’s genius! Protects the screen, reduces glare, adds traction — very sweet. You want it.

Faithful readers will already know that I’m a liberal. But just to make it clear, I am a liberal with a neon pink capital “L” that you can see from space. I am a civil-libertarian, an authority-suspecting, e-waste recycling, workers-rights-supporting, gun-controlling, universal healthnik, who thinks it’s the government’s job to regulate corporate polluters and hedge funds, but not my womb. I think that gay people should be able to marry, that water-boarding is torture and ANWR should remain pristine. I am ashamed of the appallingly destructive, jingoistic and deeply stupid policies of the current imperial presidency and I yearn for some future secular world where — through the wisdom of universal compassion — war will be obsolete.

But these are complicated times and I am a complicated child of the world. I know things are rarely all good or all bad, and that the consequences of my own lucky existence radiate out from me, creating a complexity that I can affect, but can never control. (Were those my tax dollars that paid for the “consultants” at Abu Ghraib?) I know that the perfected pacifist society I dream of won’t be coming around in this lifetime. But, this is the lifetime that I have been dealt; I entered the field of time in a world where my species has divided itself into mega-tribes bristling with giga-death weapons. An arrangement in which everyone participates because — rail against it as we will — there is no alternative. No way out of civilization; no way off the globalized globe. There is no avoiding the contradictions of this life. It is impossible not to know that, in this and every moment, every human evil and every transcendent good exists simultaneously. There’s nothing for it, but to meet it all with as much love as I can muster and be grateful that I got such a lucky draw.

But I really didn’t have all that on my mind when, as a reporter in the graphics department at the Orange County Register during the first Gulf War, my job became a crash course in military technology and Jane’s Defence was regular reading as the editors ordered up their death-machine-of-the-day graphics. Knowing about the machines, their power and capabilities, was just my job, and I got to know them pretty well — from books.

So, when I was in my backyard one spring morning in the mid-nineties and one of those big machines roared low overhead — I think on its way to a flyover at the Long Beach Grand Prix — I knew it was an A-10 Thunderbolt, a Warthog, that was rattling my insides and filling my eyes with tears. They were involuntary tears of exhilaration, because the A-10 makes the air and ground alive with the energy of its passing. There I was then, standing in my yard, looking up at my now-empty patch of sky, goose-pimpled and crying like I had been visited by something supernatural, bigger than nature. I sat down on the back porch and felt I had a new understanding of why Saddam’s Republican Guard surrendered in droves. This shit was scarier than Saddam.

Anyway, that’s when I understood that no book, no video, no daydream can live up to living through contact with these aircraft in action. And that’s why, in January, when Val — who is the real aviation enthusiast in the family — said he’d like to go see the free air show in May at March Reserve Air Force Base, I was on board.

I made reservations at the local Best Western, marked the dates on the calendar and practically forgot about it. Then last month we started seeing promos on PBS for Carrier, a ten-hour documentary film about a 2005 six-month deployment on the USS Nimitz. Since they fly F/A-18s and many other aircraft off the Nimitz, we thought that would be a great roll-up to the airshow, so Carrier dominated prime time on the video wall the week before the show. I figured it would make good background while we plinked away on our laptops, finishing the work on the CaliforniaAuthors redesign.

It turned out to be an especially engaging documentary — with lots of beautifully-shot and well-edited images of all kinds of remarkable technology — but it wasn’t a film about machines. It was about people — mostly very young people with heartbreaking beginnings — and how they deal with the life changes, confinement and balls-out hard-labor suffering that comes with military service. (Any job on the ship would break me in 10 minutes.) The film was enlightening and very touching and the music was good. We found ourselves taking care not to miss an episode. In the end, it was good to focus on the human struggle of the people of the military and the documentary was the perfect primer for our airshow military interface weekend.

Of course, the documentary was also infuriating to me. In the worker-rights area alone: some of these kids are making less than they would lifting the fry-basket at McDonalds. They can serve a six-year hitch and still not come out with a full ride to college. It’s a shameful and ignorant policy.

Goddamnit. I feel an activism sidebar coming on. New cause for me: Senator Jim Webb’s New GI Bill that offers our vets a full college tuition. An idea which the Bush Administration, the DOD and John McCain oppose [You people SUCK!]. Earlier this month the bill passed the House and the Senate with broad bi-partisan support. Of course, Bush has promised to veto. Call the Presidential comment line now to urge support for the new GI Bill. 202-456-1111. Learn more about the new GI Bill here.

So how did a girl like me end up at a fuel-swilling military muscle fest? Because this girl has given up on a high-key conceptualization of the world — not much in life is all black or all white — and because the machines are mind-blowing and aviation is thrilling, and because I think it is a good time to pay attention to the people sent out to fight this administration’s wars. And, because I’d never pass up a mini-roadtrip with my dogfighting sweetheart!

Stay tuned: Get the airshow play by play and a nice big picture gallery in an upcoming post!

A day at the air show can leave you breathless, but too sun-drenched to blog — so we’ll have to let the picture do its thousand words. More on the March AFB Airfest 2008 to come — once we catch our breath.

I’ve seen lots of paintings in the last few weeks: three juried group shows and an exhibition at the Long Beach Museum of Art. It’s been good; it sent me off on my current realist exercise and it’s been sort of encouraging. I feel a happy understanding of the language of paint. It is good to let the varied work speak to me in all its crazy dialects; to bring new story lines into the eternal internal narrative about technique, subject, palette, brushwork, surface, history, culture, love, death … Beyond critique or comparison to my own projects, it is just good to see the decisions painters make, the revelations and the disappointments.

Of the 90 or so paintings I’ve seen recently, here is one of my favorites. At 28 She Discovered She Had a Vulva by Todd Davis. I saw it yesterday at the California Visual Artist group show at the airy 2nd City Council gallery. I am thankful Todd gave me permission to post this little jpg of the painting, but it can’t do the actual painting justice. In fact, most of my favorite things about this painting are invisible in this image. First of all, the original is large — 48 X 30″ — and the surface is lush, laden with knife-loads of white paint, sometimes scraped away to reveal the dark ground, sometimes painted on, or sensitively incised to create the figures. So, in person, it is at once painterly and graphic — a sensation enhanced by the restrained and rich color palette. Yeah! That’s the way I like it.

Plus: It’s a very nice nude. The subtle modeling continues the dance between drawing and painting, between 2-D and 3, between being in and being on the background. She is anonymous, provocative and beautiful to look at, a L’Origine du monde.

And: I like the icon-ization of the ubiquitous, lowly-yet-jewellike pigeon, a theme that runs though the artist’s current work. From his website:

Todd’s work explores the ambivalent relationship between the pigeon and the public — sometimes aggressive, sometimes indifferent — and evokes, whether blatantly or furtively, those same dynamics that play out between people. The pigeon is a parallel to what is decidedly “other,” those around us who have been overlooked, loathed or merely tolerated. Todd is drawn to urban wildlife, environmental issues and underdogs of all kinds. Pigeons, in his mind anyway, embody all of them.

I don’t worry much about cracking the cypher of a painting. I don’t worry too much what a painting is “about” as long as it is also “about” paint — which this one certainly is. I avoid reading prosaic “artist statement” placards at exhibitions. In the moment of meeting a painting, I am less interested in what the painting means, than what it means to me. Thinking about the pigeon in At 28 She Discovered; perhaps any shocking discovery kills something, decides something for us, and ambivalence is at last extinguished. Or maybe only the death of one part of ourselves can offer us insight into the Big T Truth. Maybe the pigeon is an extraneous penis. Maybe the story was something the artist overheard in a bar … maybe … maybe it doesn’t matter; I like this painting.

Another fine Davis painting, Shopping Cart — which shares much with my favorite — took second place in this juried exhibit. You can see it here. Both are nicely priced around $2000. I got the distinct feeling that these will soon be bargain prices for Todd Davis’ work and I wish I had the extra cash to snag one. Then I could enjoy “the find” permanently.

]]> http://thenitenote.com/2008/04/10/the-field-trips-and-the-find/feed/ 0 http://thenitenote.com/2008/01/26/the-visit-of-sister-sharoan-and-nephews-zeke-and-sam/ http://thenitenote.com/2008/01/26/the-visit-of-sister-sharoan-and-nephews-zeke-and-sam/#comments Sun, 27 Jan 2008 02:36:22 +0000 kate http://www.thenitenote.com/blog/2008/01/26/the-visit-of-sister-sharoan-and-nephews-zeke-and-sam/

Thanks for visiting, Sharoan, Sam and Zeke! Here’s a little slideshow of our family visit. Click “credits” to learn more. Enjoy!

I make no claim that these are Rome’s best restaurants — I have had some crazy good meals in Rome at restaurants whose name I can’t even remember. One with Laurie on our last night in Rome, after I was pickpocketed, and she — with her supreme graciousness — picked up the tab for a real Roman feast at a small restaurant with a heavenly menu. And another with Lynette and Mike at a popular and ancient restaurant where it was difficult to get a table. Lynette strode right into the middle of the restaurant — Roman-style — and soon we were seated and the food was living up to its reputation.

And besides, you could spend a lifetime eating in Rome and there would still be something wonderful to find. So, I’m not saying these are the best, but they are good and we like to have a meal in each when we are in Rome. So, as Mark and Michelle go off on their European adventure, I thought they’d like to put them in their address book just in case. They’re both in the Piazza di Spanga neighborhood.

1) Re degli Amici, Via della Croce 33/b. [website] It is all about the antipasti baby, the unreal 32-dish antipasto selection laid out in great platters on a sideboard that runs through three rooms. Tiny oil-drenched roasted eggplants, baby squid, marinated stuffed mushrooms, meats and cheeses, delicately breaded and fried vegetables, tender little meatballs, stuffed, roasted and pickled peppers, an olive oil and potato salad, sliced frittata, vegetable terrine, more and more. This is followed up with a large menu of decent Roman food served in a friendly way. But if I could, I’d have 3 courses of antipasti.

The restaurant itself is more than eighty years old and in the late 40s and early 50s it was a favorite taverna for artists and activists. One memoir [Google translation] recalls it as a place where you might find Orson Wells and Tyrone Power at a table with painter Renato Guttuso, communist leader Palmiro Togliatti and writer/painter/activist Carlo Levi. Legend has it that many artists have paid for their meals in paintings over the years and it is true that the walls of the restaurant are festooned with art. Today, your fellow clientèle might be anyone from world famous furniture designers (like the distinguished northern Italian gentleman we met at the next table when dining there with Lynette and Mike) to clutches of stout and vocal German tourists to Romans on a date or having a family meal.

2) Trattoria da Giggi, Via Belsiana, 94/a. [website] This is the real thing, a good Roman restaurant run by the same family for more than 50 years. In the winter, when there are no outdoor tables, dinner patrons are crammed in the small restaurant seated at long shared tables. It makes for a loud and convivial experience. The seasonal menu is proudly roman and the restaurant’s homemade ravioli are a specialty. Last time I had killer roasted pig. The service is yeomanlike — they move that food — and sometimes crabby, but when you’re polite and on the ball (order-up! these guys are busy, man) they warm right up to you — they’re funny old-guy waiters, they have seen it all — and everything goes well.

Above: a picture for inspiration. The statue of Pollux at Piazza del Campidoglio. Want some more Rome pix, check out a few at our 20th anniversary trip gallery.

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