monty

undistilled spirits: part 3 – nightcap

2010-07-20T10:00:00.000-07:00

(If you’re a late arrival, you’ll want to get caught up on all the ghostly happenings in part 1 and part 2 of this trilogy.)

# # # # #

i am not alone!

at least i felt as if i were not alone.

isn’t this the way a secondary character in a david heavener movie gets his/her head handed to him/her by the ghost-in-residence of the haunted house into which he/she is boldly (spelled: s-t-u-p-i-d-l-y) wandering?

what the hell am i doing here?

after two post-sunset trips that brought me face-to-whatever with several spirits trapped here in what used to be the stewart indian school, this is the first time that i’ve actually felt threatened. i had earlier felt like i didn’t need to toddle up the steps of the “small” girls dorm with loretta as she walked to the front door of the colonial-styled stone structure. but, i didn’t feel threatened; just not strongly compelled to go there.

is that a “message” given to me by my new spirit friends telling me it was not safe for me to be next to the “small” girls dorm?

is that owl that has been crying in the night sky every time i spook myself (like right now!) by thinking that somebody is behind me giving me a message?

but, standing next to and in the shadow of a real haunted house with my emotions seemingly punctuated by an owl soaring nearby and a definite feeling that i was in the midst of several spirits (or, maybe one really powerful one) that didn’t really care for me being there, i was beginning to realize that maybe i shouldn’t be up there by myself.

one more screech from the owl to compliment the above thought and that was the confirmation needed to get my feet moving back to the front of the house and down the stairs. i still, however, need to walk across the front porch, which now seemed ominous when it only was dark when i walked up here.

except for jumping off of the terrace and risking a broken appendage, walking across the porch was my only real option.

unless i just hung out for a while and hoped the eerie feeling that i was being crowded by people that i could not see subsided.

girding my grits for a big one, i walked with great intent through the crowd, around the corner of the house, across the porch and down the stairs where i no longer felt as if i were being crowded by a group of... something/s.

i casually (s.o.p. for me under any circumcision) sauntered over to the table and sat down with the others. mere seconds later, melba announced: “there’s a shadow person right over there behind that bush; next to the door!”

“right now?” loretta asked.

“yes. he’s over there right now!”

was this the somebody or something that i was just experiencing on the terrace?

that door is below the slope of the contour and leads to the old carriage house directly under the terrace.

might that be the exterior entrance to the basement where those shamans bound the evil spirit of the supervisor from earlier years?

was that him or one of his minions that melba just saw?

even though he is bound to the basement, can he project his image beyond the quasi-subterranean vault?

what the hell was i thinking going up there by myself?

# # # # #

we packed up gear and tossed out trash and this time we all drove over to an area between the infirmary and the athletic field (burial ground); melba, who isn’t all that comfortable with being out here after sunset, bade us goodnight and drove home as we began the last part of our investigation.

the first part of the last part of our investigation was at the infirmary, where an owl flew from the ground back in the shadows, surprising everyone, as we approached.

i hope we didn’t ruin his breakfast.

we did not stay long at the back of the building with the boys who sandie and loretta assure me think that i’m pretty groovy. but, i did tell them that i’d be back to see them soon and that i really looked forward to doing so.

it is just a suspicion that it was on this brief visit that the boys told loretta that i remind them of santa claus, although she has not told me this.

it was definitely on this visit as we came to the northeast corner of the building that loretta said, “there was a fire here... or they burned children here... or both; i smell smoke!”

i smelled... well, except for the poltergeist potpourri that sandie spayed on us for protection against hitchhiking ghosties, just dirt; maybe some weeds.

# # # # #

i asked sandie what the poltergeist potpourri was, but she said it was not something that she made; a friend of hers made it and she didn’t know what was in it. when asked what was in hers she told me it was a proprietary poltergeist potpourri but did say that her's is an elixir of certain herbs and gems. i now have two apache tear given to me by sandie for protection, so i’m guessing gemstones may also be a part of the solution. not that i’m trying to deconstruct her recipe and cut in on the action; i want to know about everything that even slightly interests me... and so far, this ghost hunting-thing is, you might say, quite interesting, indeed!

# # # # #

i have to admit that i was not completely paying attention to everything that everyone was doing and saying as i was in my own spirit-world, contemplating a new hobby, or more precisely: a new calling and my new buddies who seem to hang around the back of the building, but have not yet let me see them.

but, it just now occurs to me as i write that i have not yet asked the boys if they can show themselves to me, which could be a tall order as, according to what little i know about this stuff, it takes a huge amount of energy for a ghost to show itself to someone like myself who, unlike sandie, cannot see them in their unnatural state.

when we reached the front of the building, sandie began to walk up to the doorway of the infirmary and suddenly turned and said with a shudder, “ooh, she doesn’t want me up there!” – “she” being nurse ratched of the carson indian school of years gone by – and joined the rest of us at the foot of the walkway.

why am i being drawn to the front door of a place that sandie seems to treat as a spot of supreme evil? i don’t have the sense of being tricked (although in retrospectacles i suppose if i were being duped by a spirit, i probably would not perceive it negatively. what would don juan advise carlos castaneda to do?), i feel a sense of comfort in the draw to the front door.

sandie set up the tripod and focused her video camera on the door and walked away from the general area. not knowing the protocol on investigations of paranormal activities, i wasn’t sure if it would be ok for me to walk up to the door and answer that page.

but, i sure wanted to: it was pulling on me like a rare earth magnet tugging on a chunk of iron!

still, i resisted as to not get in the shot and ruin sandie’s documentation of... whatever she was trying to document.

eventually, loretta began to walk to the door where she put her hands upon the door. that was all the permission i needed to get my butt up there, too.

again, loretta confirmed that a lot of pain and suffering had taken place here.

i didn’t feel that.

i felt like i liked standing up there.

l-r: monty and loretta "feeling-out" the doorway of the infirmary

as we stood there sandie noticed us and walked again toward the door. but, as soon as she reached the threshold, an unseen (to my eyes) force pushed her away.

throughout the evening, as we walked amongst the buildings and open areas of the schoolgrounds we encountered many pocket of cold air; the night was really quite pleasant, but there were times and places where temperature dropped dramatically; 8- to 10-degrees, maybe??

except now!

the doorway was hot; maybe as much as 5- or 9-degrees warmer than the ambient air temp.

cold spots and sudden drops in temperature have long been associated with paranormal experiences. but, i had never heard of warm spots.

the rest of the team came up to the doorway, sandie as far as nurse ratched would allow, and everyone agreed the doorway was definitely warmer than the air or building. both sandie and janet acknowledged that, occasionally, hot spots are also experienced in hauntings.

when everyone else left, i stayed in the doorway, trying to determine a source of the heat to dana scully a reason for the anomaly. but, the walls were the same temperature as the ambient temp as was the door and the pillars, which seemed to be the spot where the temperature fluctuated.

are we feeling the fire of which loretta spoke?

i walked in and out of the hotspot and the sensation continued. i even crossed over the bars on the right and left that are blocking off what used to be a porch and the temp dropped back down to the ambient temperature; at one point, i stood in-between the zones (worlds?) so the right half of my body was in the cooler air and the left was in the warmth; like standing in one of those arctic doorways they use in refrigerated and freezer plants.

but, the btu’s seemed to subside after a minute or so and when i mentioned that the hotspot seemed to be neutralizing, loretta rejoined me where we both laid our hands and cheeks against the door and rock wall.

loretta said she could her laughter inside. she was smiling and her voice indicted that as she said, “they’re having fun right now; they’re playing games and having fun; they are not sad right now!”

i attempted to get responses using the rods before, during and after the warm phenomenon, but got nothing.

but, i was getting a definite emotional response: i had a sense of wellbeing; of pleasure.

am i vibing on the kids inside who, according to what loretta’s been saying, seem to be enjoying time without sadistic-supervision?

l-r: sandie, monty, janet and loretta standing in the doorway of the infirmary

all too soon for my wishes, everyone was headed to the next part of the last part of our investigation: the junkyard man’s domain.

but, not because i dreaded going to see the crotchety old fart; he doesn’t give me any vibes whatsoever; i was comfortable just being there, sucking off of the kids’ energy.

when we reached the fenced-in shop yard, sandie started laughing at him. i really don’t know what any of the others’ sense was of him since i was trying to get with him through my rods. i guess he was too busy shouting at sandie to scream at me.

the last part of the last part of our investigation was in the burial ground, where i would use my newly acquired skills with the rods to talk with the little girl. but, when we got there, not only did sandie say all of the kids there were telling her that we needed to leave and they were told they could not talk to us, but she also said that she could not see or even feel the little girl.

it seemed to me that the rest of the group was simply happy to be out of there; myself, not getting a feeling of dread from this place, i was just bummed-out that the little girl wasn’t there and probably, according to sandie, would not be coming back.

when we got back to where the cars were parked, sandie announced that any spirits were not allowed to come home with us and must stay there on the former school grounds and, i assume, cast spells of protection by gesturing to each of us and herself, each time saying, “white bubble.”

“having one of those little boy ghosts come home with me couldn’t be too bad. could it?

# # # # #

on the way back to drop me off, sandie kept telling me how compatible i am with the rods and repeated what she previously stated and what loretta also insisted throughout the evening about my mellowness affecting the spirits in a positive way.

over the next day or two sandie began sending me pics and evps (electronic voice phenomena) from our 4th of july ghost hunt.

this clip is of an evp. in the first half of the clip, the evp volume is not enhanced; in the second half, i have boosted the volume.

is the spirit replying to sandie saying that there are not hordes of them? is he saying that if we came back at another time there may be more?

# # # # #

due to me posting pictures and brief accountings of my ghost hunting adventure in email and facebook, i began to get requests from friends who wanted me to take them along; one of them from eileen, who, i never realized until then, had psychic tendencies and has done a bit of ghosting in the past.

three nights later, eileen and i would visit my new friends.

# # # # #

after hamachi, spicy shrimp and spicy tuna long rolls at kim lee's sushi, eileen and i made our way across town to the stewart indian school.

we first drove to the athletic field and walked toward the middle of the makeshift burial ground as i announced: “hi guys. i’m back. i brought my friend, eileen; we are not here to harm you; i want you to know that we respect you and are only here to honor you and your memory.”

as per usual, i got no reply from the kids. but, i’m still staying open to, hopefully, one day being able to hear them, or at least feel them trying to communicate with me.

that willingness for openness on my part was reinforced when eileen said, “i don’t think they like women; women did most of the punishing and torture!”

“well,” i reasoned, “weren’t most school teachers back then female? stands to reason that women were the ones responsible for them being here.”

as we walked deeper into the sparse patches of sagebrush, i called out, “hey, little girl? are you here? i’m not here to hurt you, i want you to know that i respect you and i’m only here to talk with you; you do not need to be afraid of me.” then, turning around in a 270° rotation, i announced: “none of you have anything to fear from us! i know when i was here the other night you told sandie that you were to fear us and not talk to us. but, we are not here to harm you; we are only here to be your friends!”

walking to the spot where sandie and i had previously encountered the little girl, i held up my rods in front of me and asked: “are you here, little girl?”

my rods instantly indicated that she was.

the patch where the little girl has been hiding is really quite perfect for a small child in which to hide: there is a small hole in the center that is just big enough for a kid.

i talked calmly and consolingly to the little girl as i surreptitiously encircled the patch in an effort to confirm that the hole is where she is hiding and not on the other side without giving her concern that i may be trying to threaten her.

as i walked passed the little girl on the right, eileen pointed to the area behind the old backstop and told me that there were several teenage boys back in there; the same place where sandie said she saw a few boys around the age of 10; the same place that had previously drawn my attention.

again, i tried to comfort those kids and tell them that we were not there to be a concern; yada x 3.

i got positive responses from them with my rods.

i turned around and said, “we’re going to leave for a while. but, we will come back later.”

as i walked passed the little girl, this time from the other side, i told her how special little girls are to me and by using my rods continued to determine that the hole in the sagebrush patch is definitely where she likes to hide.

“a woman did all this.” eileen proclaimed, “killed them and buried them here!”

brings a whole new meaning to “femme fatale”!

we walked away from the killing field and i led eileen to the infirmary.

as we approached the back of the infirmary, i announced, “hey, guys, i’m here! i told you i’d come back.” i held up my rods and asked, “are you here?”

they were.

i asked several questions of them confirming what sandie said that, at that time, the boy on my right was 7 and the one on my left was 6 and they like me because i’m nice.

“i think they’re brothers.” eileen offered.

“are you guys brothers?”

they are.

"are you guys brothers?" yes!

when we pushed on, i invited them to come with us if they’d like, but told them they’d have to come back to the infirmary when we leave to go home.

as we walked away from the back of the building, eileen issued another validating statement, this time for something that loretta said on my last visit, “i smell smoke. there was a fire and some of the kids were killed!”

i took eileen to the front of the building where, this time there was no sensation of heat from the front and i got no response at all from my rods while we were there.

could that heat that we felt in the doorway have something to do with the fire of which loretta and now eileen have spoken?

leaving the infirmary, we walked passed what used to be classrooms (which now appear to be offices) i took eileen passed the administration building – where the thin veilers are trying to capture video of a shadow person – and up to the front of the supervisor’s home.

as we approached i didn’t necessarily feel any sense of foreboding, but i was in no hurry to hang out on the terrace.

before continuing my guided tour of the school, i remembered that i had a pen in my pocket and eileen and i walked over to the state historical marker at the front of the entrance to put my name on the log in the geocache that i previously found on the night of the 4th.

we again walked passed the front of the supervisor’s home to the “small” girls dorm, where this time i had no problem walking up to the front door where loretta said she felt a lot of pain, torture and rape.

heading back toward the car, we walked passed the tree that had drawn my attention so strongly the other night; where sandie said somebody was hanging out.

according to the rods, he was there again (still?); according to eileen, he was a teenage boy; probably waiting for a girl (girlfriend?).

walking out to the south, we passed the steps where the other night sat the cigarette smoking man, where the rods responded when i asked if he were still there.

before going to the car, we began to walk toward the athletic field to fulfill my promise to do the mcarthur-thing. but, before we got very far, eileen made a sharp turn to the left and said, “she doesn’t want me here! you go on and say goodbye; i’ll wait for you at the car.”

i continued in and announced my return as i approached the little girl’s hiding place.

i briefly spoke with her and told her that she had no reason to be afraid of anybody or anything. before i left, i asked the boys behind the backstop to keep an eye on her, “she’s just a little girl and needs you guys to look after her!”

i bade my young spirit friends goodnight, got in the car with eileen and we left the school.

# # # # #

on the following day, sandie told me that she felt that i brought one of the spirits home with me and told me what i needed to do to make it leave, which amounted to little more than, “split!”

one interesting thing that occurred after our last outing was, only one of the several digital pictures that eileen took “came out”. according to sandie and what i have heard on ghost hunting tv show, this is not all too uncommon.

another interesting development, in addition to all of the messages that i’ve been receiving that i should pursue being a ghost hunter, my creativity has been incredibly strong.

in regards to the above statement: please, refer to disclaimer 3 in part 1 of this trilogy.

i may have taken creative license in my telling of this story. but, let me assure you: aside from poetic-/wordplay-/humoristic-creativity, have not found it necessary to embellish this story whatsoever!

undistilled spirits: part 2 - shaken, not stirred

2010-07-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

(if you missed part one of undistilled spirits, you can catch up on it right here)

in 1981 i applied for a job as a singing telegram deliverer. during the interview/audition i pretty much knew that i had the gig. as i was getting off the freeway coming home after the interview, a commercial for lone star beer ran on kroq that i had never before heard: doorbell rings; door opens; voice #1: “i have a singing telegram!”...

not only did i get the job, business increased during the time that i was the company singer for live lyrics telegram company.

on september 22, 2002 i was stopping by koh to catch up on some dubbing that i’d put off to leave the station in time on the previous friday to go emcee the miss street vibrations contest (i just cannot bring myself to call it a pageant). as i was driving passed rei i thought, “you need to buy a gps! you’ve wanted one for years; the prices are better than they were when darryl got his and they are much better; you just got a big check for the camel races and you’re about to get a bigger check for street vibes; just do!

so, i’d decided when i wrapped up the 45-minutes of dubbing i was going to go buy a gps-receiver.

as i was walking out of the station to leave and make the short drive over to rei to pick out my new gps, jeremy dunn was just getting off the air and walking out. he mentioned to me that he’d been out to fallon on the previous day. “what were you doing out in fallon?”, i asked. “geocaching.”, jeremy replied. “what the hell’s geocaching?” 20-seconds into his description and i knew that i was going to be a geocacher.

but wait… there’s more!

on the following day i attended a press conference in washoe county district attorney dick gammick’s office.

first, before i go any further, you need to understand that i think of a gps as being just a very sophisticated map.

so, i walk into dick’s lobby and in the middle of it is a fiberglass or resin casting of a life-sized big horn sheep (our state animal) decoupaged in nevada topographic maps.

i almost screamed out loud, “all right! i’m going to be a geocacher, damn it!”

some signs are not as strong and could be interpreted as coincidence, like when i met robin: mere moments after meeting i learned that she had just returned from seeing david bowie in quebec for the kickoff of his sound and vision tour. i said, “i heard a rumor about his guitarist on this tour...” interrupting me, robin chirped excitedly, “it’s adrian belew and i rode in an elevator with him!” it was enough for me to know!

there have been many other such symbolic messages over the years, several of which are related to adrian, too.

there have been a number in the past week sending me down a path which i never expected to walk: that of a ghost hunter.

# # # # #

my second walk down this path began in sandie’s car as we drove down to the former carson indian school. having learned it best to overdress, i was once again sporting long pants, but never put on the flannel shirt that i used three nights earlier. in addition to the protection from possible weather-weirdities, i also had my new talisman – a piece of tumbled/polished apache tear – and my new dowsing rods. this time, however, there would be several other members of the thin veil investigators joining our hunt.

arriving around sunset, a little earlier than we did on our previous visit and before the rest of her team was expected to arrive, sandie and i returned directly to the burial ground.

the last time when we got here, i had a feeling of pressure on my solar plexus complimented by a feeling of anxiousness. but, i’m willing to believe, in fact, i am certain they were psychosomatic manifestations.

this time, i felt none of that. instead, i had a sense of comfort and wellbeing.

sandie, on the other hand, said some boys were telling her to get away; they were warned not to talk to her.

they were scared!

we walked on, assuring them that we respect them and were only there to visit with and honor them and not there to hurt them. but, that didn’t seem to make any difference.

i asked sandie if the little girl was here. no, she replied. but, she wasn’t all that surprised since the girl’s energy was so weak. but, we walked to where she had been hiding on our previous outing.

we did, sandie said, pass by a couple of boys presumably the two boys that may or may not have walked with us the other evening. only hearing sandie’s side of the conversation, they were telling her that “somebody” told them they need to be wary of her and not to talk to her.

sandie made – what i could tell was – a vain attempt at convincing them of the contrary as we walked on to where we first met our little girl.

“that’s where she was right there, isn’t it?”, i asked sandie. “yes, right in the middle. but, she’s not there tonight.” then, almost stepping on her previous sentence, “nope. there she is!”

this was great news... i think.

ever since i first “met” the little girl, i have felt an attraction for her; perhaps because i just have a soft spot for little girls; perhaps because of my sorrow due to the torturous death she surely suffered; perhaps both.

except for a slight draw to the little girl's hiding place (possibly psychosomatic), i could only trust sandie. but, since this all feels like a calling to me, i have found it quite easy to trust in the things that sandie has told me that i am not (yet) able to see.

feeling a little more comfortable speaking to “no one”, i made a couple of awkward attempts at talking with the little girl. after over 30-years of talking to no one in radio studios, i find it slightly humorous that i’ve yet to be able to create the imagery in my mind to allow myself to speak comfortably with the spirits that i have met.

sandie, on the other hand, has no problem talking with spirits. but, she can see them, which seems to scare some of them.

which the little girl confirmed by telling sandie that she, too, was warned not to talk with her.

again, sandie tried to dissuade all of them from believing what they were told; we respect them and were not there to endanger them, but to honor them.

“we’re not going to get anywhere here right now”, sandie announced.

i was broken hearted. i really wanted to hang out with the little girl and she told us to split. here i thought i was going to be the inspiration to get her to open up; maybe show herself to me. well, it’s not the first time that i’ve been shined-on by a girl.

during this, my attention was being drawn toward the area behind the framework of the old backstop and told sandie of that attraction.

“oh. there are a couple of teenage boys over there.”, she confirmed. then, “there’s a few of them in there. would you like to talk with us?” sandie asked the boys.

“ok!”, she replied. “we’ll leave for now and come back later. whoever told you that we are here to harm you is wrong; we only want to talk with you.”

but, we left the athletic field and walked over to the infirmary.

as we rounded the south side of the small building, sandie began announcing our presence, assuring the spirits that we were just there to talk with them.

i suddenly i remembered my new rods.

“how do i do this?”, i asked sandie.

“you just hold them level and ask a question.”

“is there anybody here who would like to talk with us?” i asked with slightly less feebleness than on our previous trip.

the rods that were barely moving due to the light breeze suddenly crossed like they were magnetized.

“they’re here!”, sandie said with a smile. “i can see two boys hanging off the ends of your rods.”

really?

learning the rods

now, i’m getting excited! those rods did move quite deliberately and there did seem to be a bit of resistance to them as they held, or moved, that was not there when sandie first gave them to me and before i asked the question.

“they like you, monty; they think you’re a brother - you being part native - they see you as a brother in blood; in your ancestry, especially with the utes being descended from the anasazi.”

this was the moment the psychic hook was set!

might this be another message leading to a path onto which i should walk?

some of the most spiritual moments of my life have been, what i would call, related to the ancients.

several years ago, while i was in monument valley along the arizona/utah border, after stopping for a picnic lunch along the scenic dirt road (on which, by the way, i was assured the little celica would not be able to travel), i wandered off a few hundred yards into the desert. as i did i walked into a sense of being with the gods; of standing in god’s own hand. it is an emotion for that i fail to find descriptive words. but, it could be the most profound moment of my life!

despite being reeled-in like a cooperative trout swimming willingly into the dip net and waiting to be lifted in the creel, l still found it difficult to talk with the kids who sandie assured me liked me.

i soon started to realize what it was that i found most uncomfortable about talking to no one: it wasn’t talking to no one; it was knowing what to ask and how to form the question in order to get a response.

we hung out for a while before telling the kids that we’d be back later; we needed to head up to the superintendent’s home, where we would wait for other members of the thin veil investigators to arrive.

dusk was still a while off, but the spirits – good and evil – were, according to sandie, beginning to become active.

“this is going to be a good night!”, sandie proclaimed.

her words would be proven true.

# # # # #

the thin veil investigators are made up of area psychics and sensitives who have an interest – whether they like it or not – in ghost hunting. the team have documented several carson and virginia cities hauntings.

we parked in front of the church and walked over to a picnic table in front of the superintendent’s home, of which its placement i find highly ironic. but, i find a lot of the history from this place to be filled with sad irony.

the spirit of one of the former school superintendents who was personally responsible for much of the torture and many of the murders has been bound to the basement of the stone home by several shamans from various nations, which now houses the nevada indian commission in another example of irony associated with this campus in general and this building in particular.

sandie does not like the superintendent’s home whatsoever!

she says a lot of bad energy is inside its walls!

she says it is not to be messed with!

so, there i sat, seeing if i could get a response from my rods as darkness began to fall, literally within spitting distance of a real honest-to-badness haunted house at a picnic table at which we will later have a late night picnic.

i’m ghost hunting now!

# # # # #

the first of the veilers to make the party was sandie’s daughter, shantell and shantell’s boyfriend, robbie.

the next arrivals would be a surprise that somehow really didn’t feel all that surprising: i first met loretta reed while i was working at koh. later, loretta would occasionally drop into kptl. i had no recollection of ever hearing loretta saying anything about having any psychic tendencies. but, it didn’t surprise me in the least when she and her daughter, carli, walked up to our table.

just like when i was standing in dick gammick’s office looking at that topo-sheep, loretta’s presence – somehow – seemed like another message that i am to follow the mysterious and quite possibly frightening and dangerous path of a ghost hunter, only slightly more frightening than geocaching... or being in gammick’s office for that matter.

i wrote the previous sentence while a ridiculous ghost hunting show on a&e is on in the background. i easily find my encounters at the stewart indian school to be believable, but have a hard time taking these idiots seriously as they taunt ghosts in an old prison until they get themselves so nerved-up that they scream like little girls from creeping themselves out and run out of the room.

despite the ludicrous nature of this show, i still am going to pursue this trip.

# # # # #

as loretta and i were beginning to get reacquainted, janet, the next arriving member of tvi was bringing her sizable toolbox filled with cameras, devices and every-other-thing one might find necessary in a hunt.

i wonder what color box i should get for my devices?

the final member of our party was our hostess, kath'leen a member of the washo tribe (which established the “stewart community” on certain parts of the former school and uses a few of the buildings, as well), who knows a lot of the history of the school and, whether she is aware of it or not, by virtue of being native, is a constant reminder of all the indigenous children who were brought here; some never to leave.

and now that the entire team has assembled, it was time to begin our investigation.

part of the team: robbie, shantell, loretta, monty and carli

our party, sans kath'leen whom i would later learn is not all that comfortable being at stewart at night and won’t even go near the burial ground after sunset would stay at the picnic table in front of the supervisor’s home and set up our snacks while the rest of us set up equipment and began meeting more and new spirits.

as we walked south passed what used to be called the “small” girls dorm where, as we caught up on the past couple of years, loretta expressed a feeling of foreboding, it would not be her last sense of discomfort associated with this building, which is now being used as state offices as are about half of the old building on the grounds that have been deemed safe enough for state workers; the school was closed in 1980 by the feds due to earthquake and asbestos safety issues.

as we entered a courtyard delimited by “big” girls dorms and scattered with many trees, janet began to fasten a game camera to one of the trees using a couple of bungee cords. janet told me she had the camera set to shoot continuously, but it can be set to be triggered by motion.

as we all began to wander about the area, i was drawn to a particular tree that had been struck by lightning, as have many of the trees around here; lightning strikes are rather obvious once you’ve seen one.

i mentioned this to sandie who quite casually said, “oh yes. there’s a boy right there! hi.”, and talked with him for a while as i fumbled with my rods and tried to form questions that i might ask.

“there’s a man sitting on the steps over there.” sandie said with a chuckle to hear voice. “he’s smoking a cigarette!”

doesn’t he know those things’ll kill ya?

the cigarette smoking man

i did not ask if he was white. but, i’m guessing that most of the workers were probably local white men employed by the school to maintain the building and grounds and maybe get a little paiutey-pooty as one of the perks.

is that why he has been here all these years? is it his sentence? is it his choice?

sandie continued to talk lightheartedly (maybe he’s not an evil cat. but, why is he here?) with the smoker as we continued to walk south between the dorm where the smoker sat, presumably, filling the fresh air with noxious smoke, and one of the classroom buildings. i instinctively held my breath as i passed, but did tell him we’d be back later.

once passed the classrooms we went directly to the infirmary; a building that gives everyone in our group “the willies”, while i feel compelled to be here.

are the kids pulling me here?

as we begin to cross what used to be grass and now mostly weeds, ants and goat heads the mood of the group definitely changed from “we’re here to have fun!” to “this shit is gettin’ serious!”

perhaps i was vibing a little off of that dread projected by the others, but i was still being pulled to the back of the structure like ulysses being drawn by sirens and wanting to hear their treacherous song at the risk of insanity.

announcing our presence as we rounded the back corner of the building, i held out the rods and said, “hey, guys. i told you i’d be back in a while. are you here?”

with a definite pull both rods crossed at the midpoint and held there like they were magnets.

orbs on the ends of my rods

standing next to me and surely sensing my discomfort in not knowing what to ask or how to ask it, loretta started feeding me questions telling me that they really like me.

to be honest, i don’t really remember all of the questions we asked. but, at some point, the kids stopped responding to my questions. loretta said, “i think they’re just playing around with you, monty.”

“are you guys just horsing around with me?”, i asked.

the rod in my left hand, which was being held slightly above the other began to spin completely in circles while the right rod spun until it hit the other rod before i separated my hands enough to allow it to spin. too bad the video cam wasn't rolling on me for this shot!

loretta and i instantly broke out into shocked, nervous laughter!

“you guys are funny!”

a couple of moments later, robbie came over to show us an orb that he caught in his digital camera
that he took while shooting the old furnace flue at the same moment, loretta, the kids and i were all laughing it up,

that looked like an upside-down smiley face.

"smiley face" orb above the haunted infirmary

loretta, who deals with angelic spirits, kept telling me how comforting i am to the boys and how much they like me. later that night as sandie drove me home, loretta called her on her cell and said, “i hope monty isn’t offended by this, but the little boys told me one of the reasons they like him so much is that he reminds them of santa claus.”

mind? are you kidding me? i’ve got two little indian boy ghosts who think i’m the bees’ knees! how many people can claim that? this i intend to use to my advantage to help me get to know my new friends.

after a few more minutes, telling the kids we’d be back later that night, we rounded the side of the building where emotions of dread were again being expressed by the others in the group.

our walk back to rejoin kath'leen in front of the superintendent’s home brought us passed the old administration building, where the shadow people are supposed to frequent and once again passed the “small” girls dorm. loretta went straight up to the front door of the building, while i stayed back on the walk feeling, for the first time, something that told me not to go there; nothing specific; i just felt as if i should not be up there.

loretta laid her hand upon the door and proclaimed that a lot of bad things took place inside those walls: pain, punishment and rape.

the “small” girls dorm!

perhaps why i stayed on the walk

eventually, we all gathered around the table and enjoyed veggies and dip and chips and cookies and lemonade and talked about our stroll around the school.

after a few minutes, i excused myself to walk across the street so i could hide in the sagebrush and i noticed several sets of headlights way up on mcclellen peak. i thought to myself, “what’s going on? the last time there were that many cars up there at night was the rally in...”

that’s when the first firework soared into the sky. being a good 3 or 4 miles from ground zero, i wrapped up my business and made my way back to the superintendent’s home, taking the scenic route.

as i reached the front stairs of the building with the evil spirit bound to its basement, i felt as if i should explore the old building. climbing the 5 or 9 steps for the first time i walked straight to the door and placed my hand upon the door.

nothing!

i looked inside the windows.

nothing except offices and things you would expect in such a setting.

i reached the south side of the house and continued around the porch, which becomes more of a terrace as the hillside drops steeply below on this side of the house. i continued to walk around the terrace to where a narrow walkway looked like it continued around the backside of the house.

it was at that precise moment that i realized that i was standing on the porch and in the shadow of a real haunted house.

i don’t know if i suddenly got sucked-up by my own imagination, of which i have a little, or if there was something or things up there with me. but, i kept feeling as if there was somebody standing behind me, looking over my shoulder. i turned around, expecting to see a face staring back at me like in the movies, but there was nothing.

nothing, because it was now standing behind me and must have turned with me.

rotating around again more rapidly this time, i still did not see what was on the terrace with me. but, i could sure feel it.

or feel something.

i turned again and realized that my revolutions were being punctuated by a scream coming from the area near the “small” girls dorm.

is that one of the girls?

after a few turns to see nothing there, i realized what i was hearing was a screech owl flying about the area. but, why had it chosen those exact moments to announce itself?

i am not alone!

part three continues here

undistilled spirits

2010-07-07T11:40:00.000-07:00

disclaimer 1: the thin veil investigators know what the hell they are doing; monty wolf has not a clue what the hell he is doing. therefore, do not endeavor to reenact, recreate or otherwise attempt to come face-to-whatever with any spirit, unless of course you know what the hell you’re doing!

disclaimer 2: since we all agree that i do not know what the hell i am doing, i may unintentionally pass along inaccurate or misinformation. i’m learning fast, but there is so much that you don’t know, when everything you know is wrong. nod to the firesign theatre - phil, pete, dave and phil; there will be more, dear friends. see?

disclaimer 3: being a storyteller, i occasionally am prone to minor-exaggerations. but, i am not hotdogging you on any of the things of which i have written in this telling.

# # # # #

i’m a member of an online dating community, of which i am not honorary mayor.

through said community i came to meet sandie la nae, a psychic and ghost hunter.

like most of us, i assume (so, you know what that makes me) that i have “felt” something or somebody at one time or another with me in an empty room and just shaken it off, or got a sudden chill and turned up the heat, or watched one of the myriad ghost hunting tv shows, which brought up some kind of personal reaction: “hell, i’d do that!”; “are you out of your mind?”; “that is so bullshit!”; “this scares the hell out of me!”

i did think that if i ever had the chance to go on a ghost hunt i would do it, but never thought of it as something that might really capture more than just a small corner of my substantial imagination.

well, it’s like i’ve always known/said: things happen for a reason!

sandie has been reinforcing that by showing me how people meet other people who have met other people so those people have the opportunity to meet other people.

so, it came as no surprise, but with much excitement, that i would go on my first ghost hunt.

i previously have had a few paranormal experiences. about one of which i have already blogged, something that happened at jim britton’s pad way back in the 70s that was rather interesting and i did a thing with the amazing kreskin one morning while i was getting ready for work when he was on the regis and kathy lee show. this was back in the 80s when i lived in freeport, maine and we were getting the show live: regis picked a card at random and hid it from view in his pocket; kreskin picked an audient and asked the audient to call out the first card that came to mind; i thought, “i wonder how many people go for the obvious ‘ace of spades?’”; kreskin said, “stop! you were thinking of the ace of spades! clear your mind and give me the name of the first card that comes to mind.”; i thought, “queen of clubs”; the audient said, “queen of clubs”; regis had the queen of clubs!

i also had in interesting experience with, what i can only describe as, an invisible ball of energy in a room that is allegedly one of the most haunted rooms in one of the most haunted buildings in the silver state: the goldfield hotel. on that trip, i stayed in the haunted mizpah hotel in tonopah without anything to report, except it is a crime that this property is now just sitting there, abandoned and beginning a sad decline into a ruin!

i even attended a few minutes of a ghost hunting conference in virginia city, where i interviewed several ghost hunters for a series of ghost stories for koh, which would become some of my favorite material at a station where i was encouraged to use my storytelling creativity.

but, i’ve never been presented with something that has made me say: “holy mudhead, mackerel!”

# # # # #

stewart indian school was one of the boarding schools the feds whipped up as another means of carving a new life out of the american indian.

actor, and semi-reoccurring character ‘one-who-waits’ from my all-time-favorite tv show – northern exposure, floyd red crow westerman was quite vocal about how he was taken away from his family and the life he knew to get a new name, new language and a new set of torturous memories.

listen to this short npr story (including red crow’s comments and a bite from a song in which he displayed a voice quite similar to gordon lightfoot) about the affects of indian boarding school on some students:

as with any institution of power and authority, and the general consensus being that all injuns is savages, there was a lot of abuse, rape, torture and even death in a mandated effort to make them better americans.

i’ve heard stories of fingers being removed as a form of punishment for not using english, healthy children boarded with terminally ill children and really sick kids not being fed or medicated since, well... they’re going to die anyway... as sadistic means of adjusting the natural attrition rate.

built of native stone in colonial style, the compound offers a foreboding appearance without one knowing anything about the school’s infamous history. some of the older admin buildings are being used by the state prison system and some by the department of public safety; i find both quite ironic. but, about half of the buildings are boarded-up.

# # # # #

july 1, 2010

we arrived at the stewart indian school scant moments before sunset.

throwing me into the deep end of the spiritual pool, sandie took me directly to the athletic field, where in the days before the field was leveled, several kids who were either intentional or unintentional victims of murder at the hands of administrators and/or teachers were buried in random, unmarked graves.

on the drive to the school, i regretted taking sandie’s advice to wear long pants and bring a coat. when we got out of the car, the wind picked up and the temperature plummeted and i was happy to be wearing the additional clothing.

sandie quickly announced that the spirits were active.

really?

ok. well, i’m not tuned into this stuff, so i’ll go with it; i’m here for experience.

walking into the field, my attention was drawn to a cluster of sagebrush for no real reason. right after that, sandie started talking to a little girl she said was hiding in the bushes where i had been attracted.

hmmm!?!?

she talked with the little girl for a while, learning that she thinks she is 5-years-old and she was scared to come out and talk or walk with us. but, she did tell us that there were a couple of boys there that wanted to follow.

i made a couple of awkward attempts at speaking with them, but really wasn’t expecting a result and we both took pictures in the general direction of the little girl’s hiding place, but sandie said she held little hope of getting anything since the little girl’s energy was not strong enough to render an image.

my picture of "the burial ground"

from there we walked passed a group of shops where sandie was laughing at a spirit she calls “the junkyard man”, whom she said was yelling at us to get away.

i didn’t hear him nor did i feel any sort of attraction toward (or distraction against) him or the shop. since she was laughing at him, i believe him to not be an evil spirit, just a crotchety old curmudgeon (i’m consulting with the department of the redundancy department on that previous statement).

the junkyard man's domain

from there we walked over to one of the boys dorm areas; a quad, where we took a few pictures and hung out with an owl (great horned?) for a while.

"hoo dat?"

our next stop that night would be the old infirmary.

a year ago when they were out here, sandie and other members of the thin veil investigators were observing the area and a tree limb fell quite near them.

sandie says there is a spirit she encounters at the infirmary that is a kind of nurse ratched and joseph mengele mixed together with a perverse bit of pol pot. it hurts me to think about what might have taken place in this small building; i’ll leave it to your imagination; mine is just too vivid.

nurse ratched was there, according to sandie. but, so were several children who were just curious about us. i would learn more about some of them in a couple of nights.

the rear of the infirmary

sandie, again, invited the young’uns to join us in our adventure, but none of them followed as far as i know.

our next and final stop of the night was across from the old admin building, which is now a small museum, where sandie and her friends from the thin veil say there are several “shadow people”.

sandie set up a video camera and we stepped back a few yards to talk while the tape rolled for a special project. eventually, we gave up due to the wind and cold and split. as we left the grounds, the wind abated and i presume the temperature increased as well.

admin building

it would not be the last visit i would make it to the school this week.

# # # # #

on the next day, sandie started sending me pictures from the previous night, several of which had orbs in them. she would also return photos that i took that would also exhibit orbs.

this is the same image as seen a couple of frames above. it has been lightened and the orbs have been circled.

look closely at the previous picture without adjustments and you will see the orbs.

there seems to be a lot of controversy over orbs between those who are believers in spirits and those who say they are nothing more than just dust particles.

well, i will tell you that the sprinklers were running all over the place and the wind was blowing like crazy. so, i personally find it hard to believe that the images in the pictures are dust particles.

in one picture in particular, there are several orbs that appear to be hovering at various positions while one is definitely in movement. i remind you that the wind was blowing. let’s assume for a minute that the orbs are no more than just particles of dust. then why are all of the particles in all of the pictures from that night seemingly static except that one?

the moving (bottom left)

the moving orb

the picture that i took in the athletic field, which i have been calling “the burial ground”, shows nothing unusual: no orbs; no unexplained anomalies. the picture that sandie took has something in it that she says is the little girl’s flickering image as she tries to make herself visible to us.

the little girl hiding in the bushes

admittedly, the image is rather abstract and inconclusive. but, sandie did tell me that the little girl probably didn’t have enough energy to give any visual indication she was there. so, with that in mind (and i’m trying to keep an open one), i can allow myself to believe that if there are spirits here in this world, that anomalous image could be the flickering spirit of a little girl caught in mid-pulse.

the same picture i took of the admin building seen above with highlights

so, now my curiosity is piqued!

# # # # #

a couple of days later, i visited sandie at her store, where she gave me an apache tear that she blessed to protect me while i’m on the hunt and keep ghosts from following me home and a pair of dowsing rods with which i will be able to communicate with the spirits.

my old friend and prospecting partner, charlie, had a few sets of rods tuned for precious metals. i one time had him hide a silver dime while we were out on the infamous 40-mile desert while i did something else. when i returned, i was able to find the dime in fewer than 5-minutes.

so, equipped with my talisman, rods and just enough knowledge to be dangerous, i was quite excited for my next ghost hunting adventure, this time with a squad of experienced ghost hunters and psychics.

all these dance partners and i don’t even know how to ghost dance!

part two continues here

tales to tell: birds of fire

2009-10-07T12:07:00.000-07:00

back in the early 90s, before i moved back out west to nevada, i was doing a fair amount of hiking in the mountains and countryside of maine and new hampshire with my most-favorite of people, robin.

on one occasion, we spent a weekend in a cabin up at moosehead lake, which was quite fun on its own. one morning we got up early and drove, via logging roads most of the way, to baxter state park to climb up mt. katadin, the tallest mountain in maine, which also happens to be the northern terminus of the appalachian trail.

our drive there was fairly uneventful and, except for a wall of trees, afforded us little or no scenery once we left the lake.

we did, however, encounter a young bear as it ran across the dirt road as we rounded a corner. we stopped where the bear crossed the road, but never saw it again even though robin wanted to get out and pet it; maybe get it to follower her around like her baby geese.

once we arrived at the trailhead parking area we filled our daypacks with bottles of water, energy snacks and lunch and began our climb.

at one point the trail took us into an area that had a very distinct odor; almost musky. when it grew stronger we noticed moose prints everywhere. not wanting to get between a bull moose and anything else, we started talking really loud and didn’t stop walking until we were way beyond the scent and saw no more prints in the ground.

except for the long hike (about 9 ½ miles in each direction), which was rather steep for the last 1/3 of the climb as we ascended pemola peak, which is only a few yards below baxter peak and takes two days to hike up and back, our hike was fairly casual. the view from the top was quite spectacular despite our elevation of only around 5000 feet; the rest of the ground below us was only around 300 to 500 feet above sea level.

as with almost everything we did together, robin and i were very compatible hiking partner when it came to the climbing parts. robin was in far better shape than me having been a championship bodybuilder only a short time before we met. but, after my body started to get used to the increased expenditure of energy, i was able to keep up with her.

it was on the descent part of the hikes that we differed: robin loved to run down the mountains and hills while my weak ankles barely allowed me to walk down; i always had to tape them once we reached the top to keep from spraining one, or both.

because of the distance – about 19-miles total – and steepness of the climb, it was almost full-on dark by the time we returned to the parking area; long passed sunset. after what-passed-for dinner and a desert of home-made majoon, we left

our drive to moosehead lake was a mixture of exhaustion and euphoria as we headed back up the lumber road, which at night seemed even more narrow than when we were headed the other direction some 15-hours earlier.

at one point, we actually passed a car coming from the other direction. it was the first car we had seen on that road since we left the lake earlier that morning. as the car approached, the driver started flashing the car’s high beams.

as we pondered what that warning meant we rounded the corner to see a big bull moose right in the middle of the road; it was so tall i could have driven the little mazda under its body and between its front and rear legs.

the giant strode off into the woods like we weren’t even there.

a few miles later as we drove on into the tree-shrouded darkness i saw a flash that went from the upper right side of the road, just a few yards in front of us, to the lower left side and disappeared into the woods.

at the very same moment and in the very same tone, both robin and i said in startled-unison: “what the f*@% was that? a comet bird? did you just say: ‘what the f*@% was that? a comet bird?’” and started laughing until tears came to both of our eyes.

neither robin nor i had ever said such a thing before in our lives?

how did we both choose those same words, at the same nano-second and use the same inflection in our voices?

i can only attribute it to being on the same wavelength, which was quiet strong, indeed, but had never verbally reveled itself so prominently.

i have had many esp occurrences with many people, but i have never had such strong experiences as i have with robin.

we never did learn what the bright streak was.

but, have carried that story for the rest of our lives.

tales to tell: camels and roses

2009-07-22T12:26:00.000-07:00

with my daughter, alexis, finding me after so many years, i’ve been telling her many of the adventures i’ve undertaken in the past few decades and filling her in on what she’s never been told of things that took place during our 31-years of separation.

not that i necessarily need something to lubricate my desire to tell a story. but, many tales have been coming back to mind as of late.

for several years i was the master of ceremonies of several special events centered in and around northern nevada; best known would have to be the 6th largest gathering of harley-davidson sycophants in the country: reno’s street vibrations (short rant that harley owners should avoid ~ if you detect a bit of disdain in my writing you are not wrong: after having ridden {and raced} real motorcycles for most of my life, i find it difficult to get excited over a second-rate motorcycle manufacturer that admittedly builds its bikes for looks and sound and not to be the best product on the market. even worse: they are an american manufacturer; doesn’t say much about this country. and don’t give me any shit about harley ruling the dragstips, flat tracks and other racing venues; the only reason they can compete with the suzukis, yamahas and hondas: the sanctioning bodies require the much more powerful and more efficient inline engine-powered bikes be much heavier than the severely underpowered and antiquated v-twins. the only sanctioning body that does not handicap the real motorcycle manufacturers, as far as i am aware, is the southern california timing association. scta created a special category just for push rod engines. meaning: the harley owners don’t have to whine that they can’t compete with the real motorcycles and can still set a record, albeit a very limp-wristed entry into the book. allow me to give you an example of the imbalance of parity in the performance of two drastically different bikes: over 30 years ago my friend, doral echardt, rode his 350cc yamaha at a record speed of 165 mph on the bonneville salt flats, which happens to be the current record for 1350cc push rod {harley} motorcycles; 1000cc’s and 30+-years later and the harleys are still stumbling along using nearly 70-year-old technology. my favorite saying regarding the quality {or, lack thereof} of hardly-ablesome motorcycles is: “if harley made an airplane would you fly in it?” if you answered “yes”, you are a sycophant, a fool or just have a death wish! that’s why so many attendees of biker rallies around the country tow their harleys instead of riding them. if your ego is that lacking: go see a psychiatrist; don’t make me and the rest of the country listen to your overly-loud trash-heap! they may be slow but they sure are loud. and the excuse that “loud pipes save lives” not only makes us listen to your nickel-dick bike, but implies that your safety is our responsibilities. most harley owners that i’ve seen {and i’ve directly dealt with thousands and indirectly seen thousands more of you prove the following point} shouldn’t be attempting to ride on a vespa let alone something as large and heavy as a dinosaur. end of rant.); my favorite, however, was the virginia city international camel races.

it is through the v.c. camel races that i was bestowed the honorary title of mayor, which won’t get me a free drink at the delta saloon (maybe at the bucket of blood... maybe) but is still pretty-damn-cool.

it is also through the v.c. (pronounced: vee-cee) camel races that i found myself walking down colorado boulevard in pasadena, california on new years day of 2000 as a member of the virginia city entry in the 111th annual tournament of roses parade.

all of this fell together at the last minute, which had roadshows, the company that produces street vibes and many other special events around the county – including myrtle beach bike week (where i worked for, you guessed it: harley) and the former producer of the v.c. camel races (it is unfortunate for my fair town of virginia city that roadshows no longer produces that event as the camel races are not what they used to be) was scrambling to get ready in time to head south out of reno on the day after christmas and down to l.a.

part of the deal was that we were supposed to bring as many stage backdrops and facades as was in the warehouse so we could build a small western town right outside the rose bowl while the tournament’s equestfest and bandfest took place in the days leading up to the parade and the game (all i remember is that stanford was one of the teams playing that day. the only reason i remember that is because of their band: apparently, the stanford band is known for its “individualized” uniforms and on-field antics. the game, itself, interested me not in the least, as per usual.). it is also just across the park from one of the float construction sites, which i never did have the opportunity to get over there to take a peek.

in strict roadshow fashion, we jock strapped the town together in one day and was set up and ready to run camel races on the following day.

camel races at the rose bowl?

that’s right!

well, we ran exhibition camel races right outside the arena as the grounds crew works for days to get ready for the new years day game. but, we were definitely on the grounds of the famous stadium and for several days we had camel races (more like sprints in the confined area being used for equestfest) until mid-afternoon of december 3o, 1999 when joann and i left to go get the motor home in which we and the rest of the crew would sleep (try to, in my case) and dress into our costumes for the parade.

with that date in mind, let me remind you of a little non-event known as y2k and how the world was going to come to an abrupt end.

well… figuratively at least!

allow me to set the scene:

we are in the city of my birth: los angeles, perhaps, the most insane city in the world and we, not only need to get ready for a parade (that may or may not happen depending on just how many computers go down and take us all with them), but we have to buy a week’s worth of groceries, drinking water and valium so we can make a hasty escape to someplace safe(?) in the mojave desert.

socal may have changed a lot since i left west covina when it was still livable, but i can still find my way into the mojave.

the first thing i did when i got up that last morning of the previous millennium was to turn on the news to see what was taking place in other parts of the world: new zealand was celebrating the new day and their infrastructure was still up and running. i had to reason that if my kiwi friends were good to go the rest of the planet should be able to have our y-2-cake-and-eat-it-too (thanks, adrian!).

earth would live to see another day.

despite bringing a few of the roadshows crew with us and the crew our two camel wranglers brought, we still needed another wrangler to walk one of the baby camels. my brother, mark, and his family were still living in socal at that time. so, i was able to secure him to join our entry – while his wife, tracy – shuttled the motor home from the staging area to the post-parade area.

we mustered near santa anita raceway park at around 10pm, parked the cars and boarded the motor home to take us into the party zone on colorado boulevard to ring-in the new year, hoping that the predicted terrorist attacks would not make us a part of history.

we found a convenient place to park and made our way to one of the (mostly) vacant grandstands erected for the parade and awaited the strike of midnight and fireworks while corn tortilla frisbees, by the thousands, soared through the air and noise makers and contraband firecrackers heralded the coming new year.

just as y2k fizzled into nothing, so did the terrorist actions predicted for pasadena. we re-mustered back at the motor home and headed to our staging area, on a closed section of a freeway, where the other equestrian units were gathering (i guess since camels have four legs they are categorized as equestrian units and didn’t know what else to do with us); the bands assembled just above us on one of the area streets and the floats staged on orange grove, just up from the wrigley mansion, which is the home of the tournament of roses.

we got settled-in at about 0130 hours, but i was too amped-up to grab any sleep. so, mark and i roamed the closed traffic lanes for the lack of something better. eventually, i was able to drift-off for about 15-minutes before it was time to get into our costumes.

the real equestrian units were required to be costumed and mounted 90-minutes before parade time. our unit was allowed to wait to mount until we walked our camels to within about 500 feet of orange grove, so the camels could hoosh (kneel down) onto one of the lawns so we could climb aboard. as a thank you to the owner of the house whose lawn was used, we left them with a complimentary load, or six, of dromedary manure. they just seemed happy to have these ships of the desert in their front yard.

even with the exception of being able to mount later than the rest of the equestrian units, we still had to get up and be ready 45-minutes before the parade began.

it was soon after we climbed aboard our camels, i mentioned that with the dense cloud cover and drizzle we were experiencing that morning (did i forget to tell you that the 2000 rose parade was the first parade to suffer rain in something like 30-years?) the b-2 stealth bomber and its f-15 escorts might not be able to do their flybys. which caused both owners of the camels to warn us to hang on as they might not take to the noise created by the high performance fighter planes.

oh great!

that’s all i need is to have my ass 7-feet in the air as clyde, my trusty mount, races at full speed to hide in egypt or the sudan or australia, where there are many feral camels roaming the outback.

i could hear the fighter jets circling above the parade route for several minutes before they made their appearance. suddenly, like a scene from the movie “independence day” (where the alien spacecraft drops out of a cloud) the b-2 slowly showed itself, along with its roaring escorts, and flew over colorado boulevard for the length of the route.

clyde and his contemporaries paid the jets no mind.

clyde, the friendliest of all the camels, was a real gentleman. not that any of the camels had bad attitudes. i’ve spent much time around many camels and have never seen one of them get nasty. but, clyde had a bit of a personality and actually seemed to enjoy the attention. the baby camel that mark escorted was so adorable: i wanted to take him home with me when he started to suck on my fingers; i’m a sucker for sucklers.

several months later, when joann and i hit the nevada state fair to collect her blue ribbons for her porcelain dolls (i think that was the year she did the blues singers??) we passed a small petting zoo with a fully grown and one baby camel. i told joann the big one looked like clyde at which she scoffed. sure enough, it was one of the camel owner’s petting zoo; the baby was the camel that mark lead during the parade and the big one was clyde.

eventually, it was our turn to enter orange grove in front of the wrigley mansion and join the parade.

one of the things the parade officials told all of the units was: wave only with your left hand as all the tv cameras are on the right side of the road and they don’t want hands in front of faces. the other thing they told us was: dehydrate ourselves as the only relief is by doing what the nascar drivers do: pee in your clothing.

i’m too old (or maybe too young) for that!

none of our camels had actual camel saddles. instead, we just sat on their humps. now, that may sound comfortable since the hump is made-up of fat. but, that fat is as hard as a tabletop.

by the time we got to the famous turn in the route at orange grove and colorado, i was beginning to get comfortable(?) with my position on clyde’s hump to the point that i was able to sit like a bedouin, with one leg wrapped around the hump and tucked under the other with balance being the greatest trouble.

as we rounded the bend in the route, with me sitting bedouin-style, the baby camel that mark was walking ran into clyde’s backside. the sudden jolt took away my balance, which caused me to quickly drop both legs to clyde’s sides and grab the lead for dear life. later, as we were watching the replay of the parade on tv, it was my misfortune to be in a two-shot with clyde as i fearfully hung on sporting a look of terror on my face as i grappled for safety. fortunately, that was not my only 15-minutes.

one of the things i used to enjoy about living in socal back in the 70s was that my comedic heroes, the firesign theatre, used to provide their own – mostly improvised – narrative and commentary on the rose parade. so, we’d watch it on channel 11 and listen to fst on kppc, kmet, klos or whatever station might run their surreal depiction.

after the parade i learned that fst were, indeed, out on colorado, not only providing their entertaining account, they were actually interviewing some of the entries.

damn! i wish i’d known that.

i can hear it now: pete bergman says: ”and now, dear friends, we have rocky rococo’s camel corps. you know… rocky actually hand breeds each camel in the corps. hi, rocky!” to which, phil proctor would say in rocky’s voice: “i’m rocky rococo at your cevix!”.

or, something like that.

prior to entering the parade route, my image of the attendees was just a sea of undistinguishable faces.

not the case at all!

it was, in fact, quite intimate: i made eye contact with thousands of people and had short conversations with maybe a hundred or more: ” where are you from?” “virginia city!” what’s it like riding a camel?” “horrible!” “can i ride, too?”…

the beaming smile on my face was not that of a performer!

at several points along the route, i’d look down and back at mark and he’d look up at me and we’d both say: “we’re in the rose parade!” of course, not being in a marching band, beauty queens or the late george putnam on horseback, we had no reason to ever believe that we would have that opportunity.

several days later we reached the end of the route and my bladder capacity. actually the latter was reached a number of miles previous. upon reaching the end of the route the parade officials, however, notified us that the closest portable toilets were another ¾ of a mile away. who the hell plans an event like that?

but, we all survived the parade, y2k, and were even able to get down the road before the parade attendees clogged the roads trying to get home.

much like being involved in the filming of “the world’s fastest indian”: it was an experience i will never forget and one that i never want to repeat.

that is: unless i’m invited back to either.

tales to tell: ugo fadini – the master modeler

2008-11-22T15:59:00.001-08:00

10-years ago, in 1998, while i was at the bonnevile salt flats with darryl (aka: willy of “the adventures of monty & willy”) for just a few hours of land speed racing spectating at the bonneville nationals, i noticed a man erecting a display of 1:43 scale models of lsr cars.

willy and i watched as he carefully placed the models into his display.

ugo fadini's model of mickey thompson's "challenger"

the way it appeared in 1959

some of the miniatures, all of which looked like the real cars after being placed in a shrink-machine, included mickey thompson’s “challenger I” (as it appeared in 1959 and when it had been modified for the 1960 runs), craig breadlove’s “spirit of america” (the original “soa” that resembled a military fighter jet, sans wings and horizontal stabilizers; the vertical “stab” was added after the first runs on the car proved a lack of stability at speed. this is the car that nosed into an evaporation pond after crashing over one of the many dikes that crisscross the salt flats.) and my friend, al teague’s, striking “speed-o-motive” streamliner among several other lsr cars of the past; all beautiful!

ugo fadini's model of al teague's bitchen 'liner

“you do great work!”, i said to the man.

“thank you.”, he said with an italian accent.

half jesting, half seriously i said, “you need to make one of ‘the redhead!’”

“that’s my next model!”, the man said with a broad, beaming smile.

it was ugo fadini.

a woman, whom i was soon to learn was his wife, said, “that is my favorite car!” fluffing her hair she continued in her italian accent, “but, i am a redhead, too.”

ugo explained that he was currently finishing the hoffman-markley streamliner “master” and had begun the initial stages of the redhead model.

ugo fadini's model of the hoffman-markley streamliner

ugo and i exchanged contact information and willy and i made our way out to the 5-mile to watch a few passes before we had to begin our trek across northern nevada to the opposite side of the silver state.

all the way back to fallon i fantasized about ugo’s model of the redhead: imagining just how cool it would be to actually own a model of a car that i had driven.

ugo fadini's model of mickey thompson's challenger
after much modifications in 1960

ugo and i soon began an email relationship.

it was not long before we discovered that besides having a great interest in land speed racing, we also share an affection and respect for the band king crimson.

the world is not so large after all!

i don’t know how much time had actually elapsed between meeting ugo and when i received my model of the redhead, but it seemed like years.

i was, however, not disappointed in the wait and the outcome; ugo’s model of the redhead is impeccably accurate to the actual car!

ugo fadini's model of the redhead

it is with great pride that i displayed my model.

until, however, i returned from myrtle beach, south carolina – where i was emcee for harley-davidson (if you know me you will surely know what a great acting job that week was!) during “bike week” – to find that my model had, along with joann’s bronco 2 and mobile home, suffered damage at the hands of her niece – or, perhaps, her niece's friends' – who was supposed to be taking care of joann’s cat.

joann may have been able to excuse her niece’s indiscretion of trashing the suv, kicking in the bedroom door and the used condoms left on the floor, but i did not excuse any of her, or her friends' actions! i envisioned somebody shoving the little model across the carpeting like it was a $1.00 hot wheels toy.

i demanded a replacement!

within a month of returning from bike week, payment was sent to pedova, italy and ugo sent me a new model.

# # # # #

a couple of weeks ago, while looking for pictures of the redhead for my “world’s fastest indian” blog, i found a website for a collector, jonathan wilson, in new zealand who said he had ugo’s model of the redhead on his wish list. i sent him an email complimenting him on his collection and confirmed that he did, indeed, need a copy of ugo’s model.

another view of ugo fadini's model of the redhead streamliner

within a few day jono sent me an email asking if i would mind him having ugo send the model to me so i could sign the base and then send it along to him in new zealand.

i told him that i could do better than that by sending it to my dad, who built all of the engines for "lattin & gillette racing team" and my brother, mark, who also drove the redhead to a land speed record (which still stands to this day almost 20-years later), to have them sign it before they send it down to socal to have jim and bill sign it and then send the model down to the bottom of the world.

as i write, a redhead model is making its way from northern italy to the central california coast.

ugo fadini's model of craig breedlove's "spirit of america" jet car

sadly, i have learned in the past week through emails with ugo that the economy and many mass-producers of cheaply-made and poorly-reproduced models has taken a toll on his business; at over $200 for a model, it is a special person who buys one of ugo’s pieces of art.

and art is certainly what ugo’s models are; they may be of similar size to hot wheels. but a paint-by-the-numbers rendition of any great work of art may be of similar size to the actual painting but is surely not of the same quality or craftsmanship.

ugo’s work is that of a true artisan!

it is my hope that he, along with the rest of us, weathers this economical climate and sees the demand grow for his works of art.

phil hill’s last laps

2008-11-17T20:08:00.000-08:00

phil hill sits in the passenger seat of a maserati mc12 stradle

throughout last winter and spring, i was instrumental in the organization of an event for the western automotive journalists, the organization of which ron is president, called: waj media days.

it’s a conclave where waj members have the opportunity to drive the newest and best the world’s auto manufacturers have to offer.

for the last few years those events have been taking place here on the monterey peninsula.

not only do the members get to drive the vehicles – this year ranging from fords to chevys and kias to a bentley continental gt speed (only $220,000+) – on a designated route on public roadways, they also get to drive many of them (not the bentley) on mazda raceway laguna seca.

in addition to securing many of the vehicles the various manufacturers made available for the event, i was also instrumental in bringing several aftermarket companies so they can show off what they have to present.

besides pitching manufacturers to bring their products we were also working with many of them to sponsor lunches, dinners and cocktail parties.

one of the companies that we pitched to sponsor one of the cocktail parties was maserati, which was very eager to be a sponsor of the wednesday night cocktail party.

our contact with maserati, deb pollack, became very involved in organizing their party.

within a few days of all-but-inking the deal, deb asked if it would be ok if they could bring with them america’s only formula one champion: phil hill (yes. you’re right: mario andretti was a f-1 champion. but, mario was born in montona d'istria, italy! phil was born in miami, florida.).

phil’s first grand prix season was in 1958 and in that year he was driving for, you guessed it: maserati.

how could we refuse?

but, who in their right mind would want to refuse the opportunity to have a legend the likes of phil hill attend their soiree?

while researching phil for the party and trying to help deb and jeff ehoodin, also of maserati, find pictures of the great legend, i discovered that phil’s 81st birthday was going to be on the sunday, (april 20, 1927) before the wednesday (april 23, 2008) maserati cocktail party.

what could be better?

how about maserati convincing doug magnon, the head of the california chapter of “the maserati club” and owner of the riverside international automotive museum, to bring his maserati mc12 stradale (one of only 3 ever made) and having phil’s son, derek hill (an accomplished racer in his own right) drive it with his legendary father “riding shotgun” around the track (laguna seca) he helped to make famous?

this, my first media days, was surely set to be the best media days event waj, or any other automotive journalistic organization, ever staged!

even up to a couple of days prior to the party itself, we were not sure if phil would be able to attend because he was in an advanced state of parkinson’s disease.

because of phil’s ill health we did not even announce that he would be the guest of honor for what was shaping into the most memorable media days in waj history.

certainly, phil’s health was of the utmost importance. but you can imagine how apprehensive ron and i were in the days leading up to affair.

that anxiousness was dashed, however, on tuesday afternoon when i got a call from deb asking me to find a birthday cake.

phil was going to make it!

not that the news afforded me the time to worry about whether he was coming or not: i had a luncheon to organize, including a hyundai video presentation and sound system to arrange and set up. i did, however, have the luxury of taking a couple of drives across laureles grade, a wonderfully curvy road between california scenic highway 68 and carmel valley, with my new friend, alan galbraith, in a 2009 – very fast – (don’t ask me what model) corvette and a new dodge challenger.

why, with all my driving experiences and ability, was i not behind the wheel?

despite that fact that i write everything that ron issues as president of waj and performing more work than any other person – including ron – to make media days a success, i do not qualify to be a member of waj. so, as a non-member, i am not “qualified” to drive any of the cars.

not qualified!?!?

irony can be so ironic.

after catching a few rides with alan and breaking down the a/v equipment, i headed into monterey to retrieve phil’s birthday cake and get our ballroom at the embassy suites prepped for the maserati party.

maserati reception invitation

before long our hosts, deb and jeff, and our guests began to arrive.

soon thereafter, our guest of honor joined us.

phil hill, guest of honor

i’ve been fortunate to have met many racing legends in my life. not only have i shaken the hands of every person who has set land speed records over 500 mph (no. stan barrett was not one of them since the budweiser rocket car was a stunt conducted without official sanctioning, timed with inaccurate radar guns and was “timed” at a terminal velocity instead of over a timed mile!) and have met several other racing legends including: mickey thompson, dan gurney, al unser, don garlits and befriended several others who are renowned institutions at bonneville.

but, phil hill’s accomplishments and reputation of being “the gentleman racer” felt to me like a very special occasion.

after jeff made welcoming announcement and gave a special presentation to phil on the 50th anniversary of his first formula one season, i had an opportunity to briefly speak with our guest of honor.

l-r: deb pollack and jeff ehoodin of maserati

despite his poor health phil, still the gentleman racer he was always known to be, graciously spoke with several of us in attendance. he even indulged me in signing his picture in a 2005 bonneville nationals program.

in 1959 phil drove the mg ex181 streamliner powered by a 1506cc, 300 horsepower engine fueled with 86% methanol laced with nitrobenzene, acetone and sulfuric ether to a speed of 254.91 mph, which qualified phil as a member of the bonneville 200 mph club.

l-r: mg ex181 streamliner (phil's ride into the 2-club); socal speed shop lakester; the redhead streamliner (my ride into the 2-club) at 2007 goodwood festival

phil’s picture in the 200 mph club roster appears on page 50 of the program, top row, second from the left.

2005 bonneville nationals program, page 50

conversely: my picture in the roster appears on the facing page – 51 – bottom row second from the right: directly opposite of phil’s picture.

2005 bonneville nationals program, page 51

i love symmetry!

phil’s widow, alma, said if he can sign a check he can sign an autograph.

but, since he spent 30- to 45-seconds just signing ‘phil’ i said, “mr. hill that works for me. thank you very much for this honor!”

phil hill signs my 2005 bonneville nationals program

the following morning we all convened at laguna seca for track day.

except for a few very minor duties, i was able to just enjoy the day!

i may not have qualified to drive any of the cars on the track, but stuart langager of page one automotive – the company that provided most of the vehicles for media days and many of the test vehicles that ron gets on a weekly basis – allowed me to drive one of the mini coopers on the autocross course. i have to tell you: i was very impressed with my 6 laps on the short track and would seriously consider owning a mini despite its diminutive dimensions.

the first laps i was able to take in a passenger seat (with one of the “hooked on driving” instructors behind the wheel) on the track itself was in the audi r8.

wow!

what a ride!

the first time we dropped down the world famous “corkscrew” turn was like taking a ride in a rollercoaster, while the following turn – turn 9, one of the fastest turns on the track – was flat and fast because of the all-wheel-drive and general stability of the car.

i took a few more laps in an audi s5, a bmw m class and even took a docile 3 lap stint with ron in a lexus hybrid.

before the day was over i took an exciting few laps in a griggs racing mustang and 3 really fast laps in a roush 427r trak pak mustang with the owner of “hooked on driving”, david ray. these laps would prove to be the fastest of all the laps i took on that day as david really put the mustang through its paces.

after lunch, doug magnon brought his maserati mc12 into the paddock and phil took his place in the right hand seat.

as derek took his place in the driver’s seat and warmed up the engine, i quickly walked out to the flagstand at the start/finish line to get pictures of the duo on track, which in and of itself was a thrill.

phil hill, with son, derek, behind the wheel of the maserati mc12 stradle leaving pit row at laguna seca

three short, fast laps later, according to deb pollack, phil took his last checkered flag and he and derek returned to the paddock.

little did i know at the time just how historic the moment would be.

a couple of hours later, i was lucky enough to sit in the same seat phil in was earlier while doug drove me around the track in his mc12.

a few minutes later the track was closed and waj media days came to an end.

# # # # #

for the waj party during the pebble beach concours d’elegance, ron commissioned a friend of his, academy award nominated art director (raging bull) kirk axtell, to draw a commemorative poster for media days to be used as a means to collect donations for the group’s scholarship fund.

“captain” kirk did the artwork and i added the text, including the title, all of the logos for each of the manufacturers involved in media days and an acknowledgment that we “saluted” phil hill.

waj 2008 media days commemorative poster

in just a few days following concours (august 28, 2008) phil lost his battle with parkinson’s disease in a hospital here on the monterey peninsula, adjacent to pebble beach, where he won the pebble beach road races in 1950, 1951 and 1953.

he is survived by wife his alma, son derek, daughter vanessa, stepdaughter jennifer and four grandchildren.

phil hill’s memory, however, will live on for many of us as being the gentleman racer and one of the greatest drivers in history!

phil hill's final checkered flag

tales to tell: the world's fastest indian

2008-11-09T19:03:00.001-08:00

in late august 2004, following the bonneville nationals, i got a call from my brother, mark, telling me that “the redhead” streamliner was going to be used in a movie about the late burt munro staring anthony hopkins called "the world's fastest indian".

through the redhead’s owner, jim lattin – the lattin part of lattin & gillette racing team – mark and my dad, elmo, where going to be race car wranglers for the production, which was going to be filmed, where else: on the bonneville salt flats.

i knew i couldn’t let this opportunity slip through my fingers and asked to have my name put into the mix, despite having just started working for a new owner of kptl and losing all the vacation time that i had earned with the previous owners, the holder hospitality group.

so, i took a leave of absence and began planning my trip to be a part of the production.

i have had several small world connections with kiwi burt munro, besides racing on the bonneville salt flats.

in the 1970s, while working for a photo company in monrovia, california i used to see burt’s bike almost every day sitting in the front of a motorcycle shop in duarte; burt used to leave the bike up here in the u.s. and just take the engine and transmission back to new zealand with him.

also in the 70s, in a quest to seek relief for the headaches from which i have suffered since 1964, i was under the care of a chiropractor in covina, who was a new zealander. one day in august (1974?) i told chris (i’ll be damned if i can remember his last name and he always insisted that i call him chris) that i would not be coming in for a couple of weeks as i was going to go to the salt flats to go racing. he said he grew up around the corner from an old motorcycle racer in the little town in which he lived in new zealand. i told him, “you must mean burn munro!” “how did you know that?”, chris asked. i told him there was only one motorcycle racer from new zealand that i was aware of, so it had to be him. chris told me he used to hang out in burt’s shed, watching him work on his bike and listening to him tell stories about racing his highly modified 1920 indian scout motorcycle. if you’ve seen the movie “the world’s fastest indian” this scenario will sound familiar to you and i still think of chris every time i watch the movie and “tom” is on-screen.

within 5 or 6 weeks of first hearing about the movie i was headed from carson city to fallon to meet up with my dad and brother to begin our trek to wendover on the utah/nevada border.

in addition to the redhead, the producers also wanted to use my dad’s deuce street roadster.

now, before i go any further i want you to know that only a 1932 ford is a “deuce”. not a chevy, not a plymouth, not anything but a ford is a “deuce”! anyone who tries to tell you different is either trying to bullshit you, is foolishly mistaken or is in complete denial.

elmo's roadster: a proper deuce and a "real" hot rod

the “little deuce coupe” that the beach boys sang about (written by brian wilson and l.a. radio “bossjock” and racing aficionado roger “hot dog rog” christian) is a 1932 ford coupe. i’m not sure, since there is no reference to it in the lyrics, if it’s a 3- or 5-window coupe. but, one thing is for certain: it’s no damn chevrolet. back in the days of real hot rods no real hot rodder would want to have anything to do with a 1932 anything but a ford. don’t get me started on what people call “hot rods” these days.

too late!

(ron pointed to an mg the other day and said “there’s a nice hot rod.” i tried to tell him it wasn’t a hot rod and he told me i didn’t know what i’m talking about. this, from a man who cannot drive a car with a manual transmission without stalling the engine, jerking and/or smoking the clutch or grinding the gears when he can find the right gear in which to shift into. typical sports car-guy: no driving ability; just ego!)

btw: the line in the song: “and she purrs like a kitten till the lake pipes roar” refers to the exhaust pipes hot rodders used to build from 1936 ford torque tubes (drive shaft housings), which fit perfectly onto the headers and, not only improved the flow of exhaust, but made for a really nice mellow sound. these torque tube exhaust pipes were commonly referred to as “lake pipes” because pioneering hot rodders raced on the dry lakes in southern california.

so, after packing up the power stroke and loading the roadster on the trailer we were off to “the salt” with a few stops on the way to hunt for the occasional geocache.

our first stop, once we hit wendover, was at the former “state line inn” - now known as “the nugget” - to check in with the producers and secure our rooms. it was there that we befriended one of the production assistants: steve schrader. mark and i would spend much or our free time on the salt during filming with steve and i am still in contact with him to this day. it was also here that we met scott chester, the bonneville production supervisor; scott was the racers’ liaison during the production.

steve schrader and mickey thompson's challenger

after checking-in at the hotel and dropping off our luggage we headed out to the world famous bonneville salt flats.

the first person we ran into was jim’s son, bill lattin, who was towing the redhead behind his ford power stroke. he had been a part of the scene when the redhead is first seen in the movie: towing the famous streamliner onto the salt behind a vintage gmc suburban.

anthony hopkins and the redhead streamliner

after a quick “hello, how ya doin’?”, we drove out to the set, which looked so much like the pits for the bonneville nationals we, out of habit, kept calling it: the pits.

except for placing the timing stand (which looked almost identical to the timing stand i remember from the 60s and 70s) at the starting line across from the pits the re-creation of the pits was impeccably accurate.

in fact: it was downright nostalgic!

everywhere you looked were s.c.t.a and bonneville nationals logos on various trailers, temporary structures and equipment. in 1962, for some strange reason, the bonneville nationals logo was red instead of the traditional blue and this did not escape the art department’s scrutiny.

registration stand

not only did the art department bring back the observation tower missing from the starting line area since the early 60s, they also set up a miniature version of the bell auto parts tent.

when i was a kid the bell auto parts tent was the place to get a really tasty cold drink of water, self-drawn, into one of those old cone-shaped envelope-style paper cups. according to bonneville legend, multy aldrich, it was just the water from the western motel in wendover, which is tasty water on its own, with a lemon sliced into the cooler. that may have been – and surely was – true, but i could never get it to taste that good.

bell auto parts tent, sans multy's water

they also faithfully recreated the porta-potties used back in those days (the real ones were hidden behind pits and other equipment made to look like they belonged there) and various other objects d'art that made – and still does make – bonneville a unique experience.

despite the faithful accuracy of the art department exhibited in the pits there were some errors that, regardless of them not being represented in the final product, were painfully way off. i assume the art guys looked at the pits as being more of a communal place than it is in reality: one pit was loaded with nothing but oil cans, while another had a bunch of thermoses. i guess they envisioned the pits as drive-thrus where you come in to get a quick lube in one pit and a cup of coffee in another pit.

it’s been 4-years since the film was shot, but i think it was the first afternoon that we had our race car wrangler meeting back at the nugget, where we learned important things like: don’t ask sir hopkins to say “good evening clarice”. btw: hannibal lecter never did say that line in the movie “silence of the lambs”. the actual line was: “hello clarice.” we also learned that, unlike most movie sets, we were encouraged to take and post on the internet as many pictures as we wanted. i assume this was to build as much excitement in the racing community over the movie as possible while filming continued in new zealand and during post production.

the next day was the latest start we got for the (almost) 2-weeks we were there. but, we still beat the sunrise. the rest of the shoot saw us on the salt every morning at 0400 hours so we could eat cold sausage patties, eggs and potatoes and be ready to wrangle cars into place; we had to stay each night until 2100 hours.

unloading the karl orr model-t track roadster
my father, elmo, in the red jacket standing next to scott chester

the first part of the day was spent unloading the cars used to represent the race cars in the movie, most of which were not real race cars or not real bonneville race cars. but, there were enough notable cars there to make this gathering an historic occasion unto itself: in addition to the redhead there were two mickey thompson streamliners (“the challenger” and “the pumpkin seed” – which is still being raced to this day) and the “flying caduceus” of dr. nathan ostich: the first land speed racing jet car, which now resides in the national automobile museum in reno. also on-hand were fred lobello’s original belly-tank lakester and the “black widow” rear-engine modified roadster. many of these car were never expected to ever return to the salt and there they were: all there at the same time!

l-r: the pumpkin seed, the redhead, the challenger and the flying caduceus

i love being a part of history!

we also were assigned to our various sections of the set (aka: pits). ours, where we kept the ’32 and hung out for most of the shoot, was in the southeast corner, right next to the art department’s department, which was disguised as another pit.

our pit
elmo in the red cap on the left and me in the pith helmet just behind him

it was also the day that many of the non-racing cars were given attention by the art department to make them look like real racers. dad’s roadster, for instance, was given some authentic-looking decals faithfully recreated by the art department and a realistic-looking roll bar made out of plastic tubing, which reminds me of a story jack lufkin once told me about hot rodding legend ak miller:

back, i think it was, in the 50s when scta first required roll bars, ak bought a long length of salami, painted it black, and affixed it, somehow, to the chassis. at the end of the week, ak hacked-off slices of the salami and offered it to everyone, including the officials.

it was a different world back then!

the rest of the time we were there was pretty much a blur as far as the days and order in which the various occasion took place; we only had one scheduled day off. but, because of a storm that marched across the salt, we ended up with a late start on one day, which the film makers used to film in town.

artist and cousin, jeff decker

one day after that day off, jeff decker, an extremely talented bronze sculptor who specializes in vintage motorcycles (one of jeff’s more recent pieces is a recreation of rollie free – played by william lucking in the movie – riding a 1948 vincent black lightning wearing only a helmet and swim trunks at over 150 mph in 1948) was talking about living his entire life in the state of utah – my favorite state in the nation – and had never visited the mormon temple grounds. mark and i told him about our experience at the temple the previous year, the day before our grandmother’s funeral in magna, utah. we told him how cool it was to learn a bit about our ancestor, henry grow, who designed the tabernacle. jeff said: “one of my ancestor’s also built the tabernacle!” the next day, jeff said he called his mother and she confirmed that the person of which he was speaking was henry grow, making jeff a distant cousin!

jeff's rendition of rollie free at speed

i think it was about the 3rd or 4th day that we had the opportunity to meet the star of the film: sir anthony hopkins, who introduced himself to us as “i’m tony and this is my wife, stella.”

he’s a regular guy and a very sweet man: as charming as dr. lecter with much more reasonable dietary habits.

when we told tony that we used to know burt munro he told us how much we were going to enjoy the movie once it did come out. he explained to us that it was very complimentary to burt and that it was not only, in his words, “a splendid script”, it was the most fun he has ever had working on a movie!

i was really happy for my father to be able to meet tony, one of his favorite actors, and tony treated “the ol’ man” like he was the star: “are they feeding you alright?” “are you getting enough water?” “are you staying out of the sun?”

it was a real treat to watch tony perform his craft and to be in a few of the scenes with him, albeit just a non-speaking background player!

i’d known for several years that tony likes to adlib. and, being an adlibber myself, i really enjoyed hearing him modify and adjust his lines from take to take. many of those adlibs (“it’s a cork – cork from a brandy bottle! what’s it look like?”) made it in the final cut.

another scene that showed tony’s formidable skill as an actor, one in which i was a background player, is where wendy (played by: jessica cauffiel) brings “burt” over to a crowd of people to give him a pouch of cash that was collected for him. the scene goes something like this: tony is perfectly playing the almost-comical and gregarious burt munro when wendy brings him over to the group and explains that they have decided to give him the “sportsmanship award” and felt he could use the money more than a trophy. so, they passed the hat around the pits and gave him the money collected. tony went from being the jovial burt to having eyes welled-up with tears and cracking-voice to have director/writer/producer and personal friend of burt munro, roger donaldson, say: “cut! back to one.” now, instead of trying to “stay in character” tony went over and began joking around with the crew, only to bring that emotion up again after “action” was, once more, called and bring that emotion back yet again. he did that, at least, a dozen times before roger called “cut!” for the last time.

now that, ladies and genitals, is acting!

btw: a brief ceremony was held following the preceding scene where burt’s son displayed the original pouch that burt was given containing the money gathered from the competitors and officials.

other standout memories while filming “the world’s fastest indian”:

the entire salt flats erupting into an horrendous thunderstorm, the way they usually do on the salt, in a matter of seconds, which put filming out of the question for a day or two. as it turned out, an even more violent storm destroyed the entire set on the day we left to come home.

climbing, for the first time in my life, “graffiti hill” on the east end of wendover to ring the bell with mark and bill lattin and watch the shoot go on below.

graffiti hill

watching bill drive the redhead below me, while i stood atop the observation tower, when the crew filmed the ‘chute coming out. btw: you can see me for just a nanosecond from a camera positioned in the “timing stand”, which also shows my brother, mark, as bill drives off of the starting line seconds earlier.

my brother, mark, packing the redhead's 'chute

being a background player in the scene where “burt’s” motorcycle is being inspected. i was “blocked” with karl orr’s beautiful model-t “track roadster”, which is now owned by jim lattin. besides “sharing the screen” with anthony hopkins, the inspector with the best lines is actor bruce greenwood, who has played united states presidents in, at least, two movies.

me in the karl orr model-t track roadster

standing behind the camera and watching the video split of the redhead being filmed static and making it look like it’s traveling at speed.

prepping the redhead for its final shots

hiding a geocache just west of west wendover, nevada in honor of the movie as we headed back home to western nevada.

elmo's deuce. note the re-creation of the 1962 inspection sticker and the various geocaching "travel bugs'

hanging from the windshield post and door hinge.

it was a very long and miserable shoot of 17-hour days, but i will always cherish that experience!

for more pics from the set of the world's fastest indian click here.

rick comes to town

2008-11-06T23:17:00.000-08:00

(l-r) me, unnamed mazdaspeed girl and rick
photo courtesy of mazda

my friend, rick, was here a couple of weeks ago (yeah, i know: it’s about damn time!).

how great it was to hang with him for a few days!

rick (rrinnv to you geocachers) was my primary inspiration and driving-force (or driver) in building the final two rallies that i put together in nevada. rick and i spent untold hours in the deserts and mountains of northwestern nevada plotting, designing and refining the courses that we used in 2006 and 2007; the two best rallies that i have ever put together. not that the 2004 and 2005 were not good rallies. but, by the time he and i started working on the last two rallies i had refined them to the point that the concept was just about perfect. of course, there is always room for improvement. and i now know how to make the rally even better and more effective.

if it were not for rick there, most likely, would not have been rallies in 2006 and 2007! not only did rick invests hundreds of hours in crafting the courses, he also spent well over $1000 of his own money to make those rallies realities, only to have the gbes board of directors stick their collective middle finger at him!

gbes is now just (barely) a social group and, by the look of its website, out of the rally business. i’d be out of the rally business too if i put together a rally with fewer than a dozen entries, as witnessed by last june’s disastrous attempt at feminizing and taking all the competition out of what i spent years perfecting.

you get what you deserve!

but, enough of that crap!

lmp1 audi

rick came for the american le mans series finale races at mazda raceway laguna seca and there we did, indeed, spend most of the weekend courtesy of the good folks at mazdaspeed. thanks dean!

that's me kneeling down in front of a group of playboy bunnies and
spca mascots on pit row below the mazda vip suite
photo courtesy or rick

during the races, and a few days before rick arrived during a western automotive journalists event in san francisco, i was able to conduct interviews and gather sound effects for a story for ron’s radio show: wheel talk coast to coast.

hear it here.

as per usual, the racing was exciting at “mazda raceway laguna seca” (as a responsible journalist i am supposed to tell you that it is “mazda raceway laguna seca” and not just “laguna seca”) despite all the yellow (caution) flags due to crashes. but, if you’ve ever been to laguna, as most of the racers call it, you know that it is almost always exciting racing at the famous track. as far as road courses go, it is a fairly short track at just under 2 ¼ miles in length. but, with the track’s trademark corkscrew turn and hilly-terrain, it is quite a track on which to drive and compete!

in addition to the racing we got in some obligatory sightseeing around the cypress coast’s formidable scenery, rang the bell a few times and even got in a brief exploration, albeit a paved adventure, up robinson canyon that heads south, toward big sur, out of carmel valley’s mid-valley region. what a great road this is! the first half of the road winds through dense redwoods and up into rolling hills where, i am told, one can see wild boars.

View Larger Map

it was not as adventuresome as some or our previous journeys. but, it was fun nonetheless!

we were even able to find a quick geocache on one or our trips over “the grade” (laureles grade) between the valley and the track, which is just north of california scenic highway 68, between monterey and salinas. rick also logged my cache here at the pad: “when you’re a jet you’re a jet all the way!”

all too soon, rick headed back to his home in carson city and the wonderful state of nevada.

with “the silver state” being my second favorite state in the country, behind the beehive state (utah), you never know. i may end up back there some day and rick and i, and/or mark/ivan, and/or willy, and/or kathryn can continue our adventures.

my new, soon to be, short lived ultra-short hairstyle
photo courtesy of rick

willy comes to town

2008-09-09T20:13:00.000-07:00

i had another visitor over the weekend.

willy (that would be willy of “the adventures of monty and willy”) drove over last thursday from the gardnerville ranchos.

it had been almost 3-years since our last adventure but that didn’t stop us from having a few of them while he was here.

now, i don’t want to give too much away as i believe that we may have stumbled upon a possible rally course and i sure don’t want to give anything away. more on this later.

we did, however, spend several hours exploring point lobos.

i look at point lobos every morning during my meeting with ron at our new beach in carmel, but this is the first time that i have actually been on that peninsula on the southern end of the monterey peninsula.

wow! what an amazing place: cypress trees; rocky cliffs; blue water; black tail deer; pelicans; moss; lichens and miles of trails on which to hike.

black tail doe and buck on point lobos

quite spectacular!

speaking of pelicans: willy had one swoop down right next to him while we were out on old fisherman’s wharf. we both dig pelicans (the white variety that frequents nevada the best), so it was a groovy encounter.

l-r willy and brown pelican at monterey's old fisherman's wharf

we also took a jaunt down to big sur for general sightseeing and waterfall viewing.

with a little more time to spare than kathryn and i had two weeks previous, we drove farther south to check out the waterfall at limekiln state park.

that is the waterfall to see if you are on the central california coast. it’s a short hike but it does require rock-hopping across a couple of streams to see the fall. but, if waterfalls are you thing, this is the one to visit if you’re coming to or from big sur!

limekiln waterfall

we even risked getting shot by gang members in salinas for a great mexican dinner before willy left early the next day to head back home to the silver state.

# # # # #

yes, you heard right: i’m thinking about a rally here on the central coast!

since i have a regular following of geocachers who follow my every word in this blog to see what i have to say about gbes, i’m not going to write too much about it at this time.

i have actually been discussing conducting a rally in the area with betsy, of the buggy bunch (my newly crowned assistant rally director) for the past couple of months. but, it wasn’t until willy and i reached around the mid-point of the (possible) rally course that i decided i have to come up with a format for this series of roads.

the primary difference between this rally and the old gbes rally that i founded and developed is: there will be fewer than 20 off-road miles. that means that almost any vehicle can participate. i say almost because the one dirt road that i have in mind is a little more than i would be comfortable on which to take my taurus. but, it would be easy to setup an alternate route for those who don’t want to go the rugged-route.

i expect the views, scenery and wildflowers to be no less staggering than the rallies i produced in nevada. it will be a much different rally than the nevada rallies, but i think it’s going to be just as much, if not more, fun!

my next visitor, rick (rrinnv), who is coming next month for the american le mans series finale at laguna seca, has already said he wants to pass on a day of racing to take a circuit around the track. rick, of course, helped me design the 2006 and 2007 rally courses, the two most spectacular rally courses the state of nevada has ever hosted! and kathryn (the mad katter) says she wants to come and work the rally as a volunteer. she might even bring our friend, helen, with her.

now i just need to come up with a fun and competitive format.

the first female president?

2008-09-03T21:55:00.000-07:00

with all of the political blogs out there, i generally try to keep my political comments to a minimum (except for the “favorite quotes” in my sidebar, which seems to ruffle a few feathers of my friends and online buddies).

i have to make an exception tonight as i believe i may have just witnessed a speech by the first female president of the united states!

sarah palin has got more balls than barack o(my-god-you’ve-got-to-be-kidding)bama and more charisma than hillary clinton.

sarah compared herself as a pit bull with lipstick. unlike hillary, who is a yappy shi tzu in a pantsuit, i think sarah has what it takes to run this country instead of running this country into the ground.

i am not a republican. but, i am an anti-democrat. in my opinion: john mccain is too liberal for me. but, he is far from the socialistic offerings of the empty suit running against him who has only his race and eloquence as a speaker going for him.

here is my prediction for 2012 (or, 2016): sarah palin and newt gingrich.

until the libertarian party gets their shit together, this is the best we can hope for.

hum me a few bars

2008-09-02T13:31:00.000-07:00

the hummingbird feeder that kathryn sent me the other day is getting a thorough working-over.

i half-filled the feeder friday evening just after sunset. by monday morning i needed to refill the darn thing.

i never realized how aggressive those little guys are. one of them has already staked it out for himself and fights the others tooth-and-nail (or is that bill-and-claw) to defend “his” nectar.

the “overseer” perches in the top of the tree near the feeder and when one of the other birds comes up he chases them away. but, right after he does that another comes up to partake in the nectar until the nectar-boss returns.

before i moved to this area i had never seen a hummingbird perch. we used to have one that frequented the bottlebrush bush at the castle and he used to perch all the time. the same with these hummers.

they are letting me get really close to them as they feed. i’ve been as close as 30-inches from the feeder. they also fly close enough that i can feel the ever-so-slight breeze coming off of their wings as they pass.

i guess i’m going to have to look into getting a seed-feeder for the songbirds.

and maybe a carrion-feeder for the buzzards and turkey vultures that endlessly circle the skies above carmel valley.

kathryn comes to town

2008-08-31T20:11:00.000-07:00

my friend, kathryn of reno, came to visit me for a few days last weekend.

very nice to see her again after so long.

actually, i did see her briefly back in march or april on a quick trip up to nevada. prior to that trip, the last time i saw kathryn was a couple of days before i moved to the coast. she, rick and helen and i sat above virginia city watching the 4th of july fireworks. that’s right: above virginia city! about 1000 feet above virginia city. interesting to see fireworks coming up at you instead of over your head.

i picked up kathryn at the san jose airport friday at a couple of minutes after 2. from there we headed over to giorgio’s on foxworthy for a great pizza before driving over to los gatos and then saratoga for a cup of coffee (tea for kathryn) at the big basin cafe then up hwy. 9 into the redwoods and big basin state park.

before long we were in santa cruz and heading south on rt. 1 on our way to the peninsula. by the time we reached monterey it was dark, giving kathryn an opportunity to see cannery row at night. we also grabbed the doc rickett’s crossing cache before heading east to carmel valley.

the next morning, after kathryn had the courage to try one of my cups of coffee (i started her off with 1-shot of espresso and 1-shot of water to about 10 ounces of 2%) and hanging out on the bench with the hummingbirds, we were off to big sur for waterfalls, more redwoods and a few more caches for kathryn.

on the way back we stopped off in carmel for a drink at the hog’s breath and a cruise through town to grab a cup of coffee at ron’s favorite coffee house before hitting the grocery store for dinner. i made some kind of stir fried beef dish with noodles and cookies for desert.

on sunday we were off to the monterey bay aquarium. but, not before coffee and hummingbirds, this time with a blacktail deer for good measure.
although we had passes for the aquarium (thanks phil and linda!), we walked in like we owned the place. hey, if you look like you know what you’re doing nobody questions you. i wish i would have remembered to grab the tripod from the car before we got there as it was just too dark and i had to use a really slow shutter speed, which made the shots a little blurry. i had a ray swim directly up to where i was standing. that should have been a great shot but. . .

on the way back to the car we stopped to grab a cache across from the american tin cannery then drove over to seaside for mexican food. after taqueria-style tacos we headed over to del rey oaks for a geocache hidden in an industrial park near one of the secluded break areas. after finding the cache and enjoying a dessert of cookies we were back on the caching/sightseeing tour.

back to monterey and asilomar.

kathryn is actually enjoying lattes.

we left the coastal road and came up lighthouse to frank’s coffee house, pacific grove juice and java. this time kathryn had them step up the coffee content to two shots; i had a triple.

then we headed over to pebble beach for a cache or two and gawking at houses then back home. i don’t remember what, if anything, we had for dinner on sunday.

after coffee (another double for kathryn) and communing with the hummingbirds we were all too soon off to san jose with a quick stop at mazda raceway laguna seca and a quite drive to the airport.

friday afternoon a package came for me from kathryn. it was a hummingbird feeder. it’s only been up for two days and i already have a war going on with several hummers who want to take control of the feeder. i never realized how territorial they are. that must be why they need all the energy: to fend-of the other hummers.

it seems i have more visitors coming soon: willy just told me he’ll be in town this coming weekend and rick is coming in october for the alms race at mazda raceway laguna seca.

time for a change

2008-08-05T20:08:00.000-07:00

ok, ok, ok!

i know i’ve been remiss in my blog postings.

it’s been a strange few months, to say the least.

i’ll try to get caught up in the coming weeks as my schedule allows.

but, in the meantime. . .

i have moved out to carmel valley.

the new pad

ron and i moved out of the castle and susie and the kids moved out of the dollhouse back in may; ron and susie and the kids moved into, what we now call, “the embassy”, and i have been staying in my friend, richard’s, hotel: the lone oak lodge.

until saturday, that is.

a few weeks ago, my friend, frank, who owns the coffee house ron likes to call “coffee girl”, told me his tenant in his guesthouse was moving out and asked if i’d like to move in.

so, i’m here.

and i love it already!

the view from my kitchen window

this is much more of a monty-type-place than pebble beach. sure, pebble beach is beautiful, but i like living where the sun shines during the summer and the temperature reflects that season. for example: the day i moved in – last saturday – it was almost 70˚ in pebble; out here in carmel valley, about a dozen linear-miles east-southeast from the embassy, it was in the mid-nineties.

i may not have whales and dolphins swimming practically out my backdoor and i may not be serenaded by crashing waves and barking seals as i sleep, but the wildlife here – mountain lions, bobcats, lizards (the other day, ron called as i was about to jump in the shower. “well. how do you like it?” he asked. “i’m in heaven!” i replied. “i’m sitting naked on the edge of my bed and i’m watching a lizard crawl across one of the rocks in my backyard.” i don’t think ron got it!) and king snakes (which means there is little likelihood of rattlesnakes) – is more montyish. it is also as quiet as it was when i used to live in fallon.

the view from my back porch

frank is a pretty cool guy, too!

we share a love of progressive rock (he’s a big “yes” fan as i would also consider myself) and we are going to give a crack at songwriting. frank is a really good guitar player and i’ve been known to sing and write lyrics from time to time. we’ll have to see what we can come up with. he has a recording studio in the main house.

frank is also learning how to use adobe final cut, a video editing program and i’ll soon start working on the same program. as soon as ron buys the right apple computer on which to use the program.

yes. i said apple computer.

that’s going to be the tough part as i’ve never used a mac before.

i’ve been sitting in front of a pc since 1993 and the two computer types are as dissimilar as they are similar.

well, i was 40-years-old when i first sat in front of a pc; i guess i can do the same with a mac at 55, which i am only a month away from.

that’s right! i turn double-nickels in a month from tomorrow!

it seems like it was just a couple of years ago i was anticipating my 21st birthday.

where did the time go?

tonight's sunset from my backyard

road trip: b&n modified roadster --- part 1

2008-03-30T14:00:00.000-07:00

i’m delivering this story in 3 parts - acts, if you will.

when i was a kid, in the 1960s. . . back when i first started going out to the bonneville salt flats, the baddest of modified roadsters (usually, a 1927 model-t body that has been streamlined ahead of the windshield. you can do anything you want as long as you don’t cover the tires and wheels. the cockpit can also have a tonneau cover and roll cage faring.) was the b&n automotive #120 modified.

a brief bio:

after several years in and around the world of drag racing, in its pioneering years, northern californians bert peterson and noel black came together to form b&n automotive and started racing on the salt flats.

after success with a blown gas hiboy, they wanted higher speeds and therefore built, what would become, the world’s fastest roadster.

a few weeks ago, while talking on the phone with my dad, i learned that our partner, jim lattin, had rick peterson (no relation to bert peterson), a veritable magician when it comes to fabrication, restore the historic modified and would be inducting it into his antique race car museum in encinitas, california with a reception at the museum.

after receiving further details from jim and b&n automotive archivist, john sprenger (later a partner with bert following noel’s death in 1970), i decided i needed to be there for the ceremony.

john sprenger

the year noel was killed was my first year to become a part of what would be known as “the b&n bad guys.” i was just a kid shagging parts and receiving melvins from bert’s son, steve, and steve’s friend, frank “jive-ass” silva as we ran the motion 1 streamliner, which was hoped to break the wheel-driven land speed record of 354 mph.

frank "jive ass" silva

it was the greatest time of my youth!

mee sook and i left pebble beach on friday, march 14 at around 1030 hours under a cloud of clouds and intermittent showers on the day prior to the roadster’s induction. we were going to take rt. 1 down to santa maria, then cut over to i-5, but with such a late start we headed east to salinas and jumped on hwy. 101 going south. by the time we reached soledad, the sun was shining and the wildflowers were beginning to open.

i drove east on 46 from paso robles for the most scenic stretch of the day’s drive. the mostly ag-country was bright and green after a fairly moist spring and speckled with fields of mustard blooms and california poppies that were so brilliant the fields looked like they were ablaze.

a quick stop at a fruit and nut stand, alleged to be james dean’s last stop before being killed just west of there, we were on i-5 and heading over the grapevine.

after jumping off of i-5 and onto i-210, it wasn’t long (now approaching 1600 hours) before we were knee deep in traffic as we headed east out of pasadena.

i cannot believe ron wants to move us down to this mess!

before heading down to our hotel in san marcos, we were on our way to my old neighborhood in west covina to visit some very dear friends; popsie and leo, whom i have not seen since june, 1981. before going to their house, however, we stopped by the old thriftimart, now some other small chain grocery store, to grab a bouquet of flowers for popsie (we picked up some chili and lime pistachio nuts at james dean’s last stop for leo). as the automatic door opened to allow us entry, i passed an old mexican man on his way out who was looking at me like he knew me. i’m sure i looked like i was looking at him like i knew him, too.

“is that you, greg?” the old mexican asked.

it was leo!

what are the odds of that?

he had run down the road to grab some avocados for guacamole and was on his way out as we were on our way in.

amazing!

after hugs in the doorway, leo split to get the avocados to popsie while mee sook and i, the only non-spanish speaking people in the market, grabbed a bunch of flowers and headed over to the old neighborhood.

i first met popsie and leo around 1972, not long after they moved into the neighborhood. they quickly became the big brother and sister i never had! i did a lot of growing up at their house. i learned about jazz, how to cook real mexican food and more things than i can mention in this blog. i have missed them dearly and i am so happy to be back in-touch with them after all these years!

it was like i had been over there only a week ago! except that we were all older (gj, their son, who was born after i first became a part of the family, is now the age popsie and leo were when i first started hanging out with them) and leo had remodeled the house, nothing has changed; popsie is still as beautiful as she was when we were young and leo is still the short mexican with big arms and a heart to match.

just like in the old days, we listened to music, ate enchiladas (with popsie’s special sauce) and talked, talked, talked!

i have never loved two people so much, who are not a part of my family, as i do them.

they are the family i have chosen to compliment my family.

their oldest daughter, yvette, whom i used to baby-sit along with her sister nicky, now lives in, of all places, reno and has been there for the past 5-years, or so. i cannot believe it! there’s a good chance yvette used to listen to me on the radio and never knew it was me, since i don’t use my real name on the air.

small world!

far too soon, we had to leave to drive the rest of the way down to san marcos.

the ride down was bittersweet, having seen my good friends and missing them already! i love them dearly!

not-so-bright and not-so-early the next morning mee sook (a little hungover from the wine at popsie and leo’s and the jack daniels and mota in the hotel room) and i headed down to carlsbad to have breakfast with “the gunslinger”, a friend whom, up to that morning, i had not yet met.

i have known of bill for several years and have been carrying on a phone relationship with him since july, but this was the first time we were to meet face-to-face.

again, it was a great time with a great friend! the food, pretty good and satisfying, was not nearly as close to my heart as popsie’s enchiladas. still, i would be willing to return for another meal. it’s just a tough one to top popsie’s cooking! sorry, al!

after breakfast we drove down the coast another couple of miles and up the hill to find jim’s museum. after making sure of its locat, which was not as easy as googlemaps lead me to believe, we went to the hotel for a brief nap before coming back for the festivities.

upon our return, jim’s museum was all i expected and more! what a great collection of historic race cars and antique motorcycles. i had seen several of the cars and bikes at jim’s old museum in pomona, but it was not as extensive as the new locat here in encinitas; indy cars, including ralph de palma’s 2-man miller roadster (besides building winning cars, harry miller designed the engine that would later be known as the offenhausser, which ruled indy in the 40s and 50s), sprinters, midgets (in all variations) and several cars i have been fortunate enough to have driven over the years, including, of course, the redhead streamliner!

mee sook, who knew absolutely nothing about any of the cars, or the places where they raced, for that matter, was completely captivated by all the vehicles, especially the more exotic cars, like the redhead.

but, it was the b&n modified we were all there to see!

and what a great job rick did recreating the look of the car from its heydays back in the mid-60s! the paint (ice blue and midnight blue accents with black cobwebbing in the lighter color) matched the 1967 paint job with the lettering it had in 1965.

i was also able to visit with more friends i have not seen in years! too many to name, but they all asked if my dad was there. when i said “no” they all wanted me to tell him hi, which i would do in two days time.

i was able, of course, to spend time with jim and his son, bill, and john sprenger and frank “jive ass” silva from the b&n bad guys.

damn, we’re all getting old!

when the time seemed right, mee sook and i slipped quietly out and took a short drive down to san diego before returning to the hotel room in san marcos.

it was a wonderful day, but we had more driving to do the next day!

road trip: b&n modified roadster --- part 2

2008-03-30T13:30:00.000-07:00

we did get to bed a little earlier saturday night than on the previous night, but we were still pretty ragged when we awoke on sunday for our next stretch of the trip.

neither of us yet ready for breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and headed east toward anza borrego state park. by the time we reached ramona, we were ready for something to eat. we found a grocery store with a starbucks and, while mee sook shopped for mobile breakfast food items, i ordered coffee for me and tea for her. it was at this time that i realized that i did not have my visa card with me.

i had used it earlier, back in san marcos, when i walked across the street to get coffee at that starbucks, but it was not in my bundle of ids and other essentials.

back to san marcos!

i got a key to our room before housekeeping entered and, there it was, sitting on top of the entertainment center.

well, that put us back about an hour. but, at least i got my card back!

on our way to anza borrego we passed several cars topped with snow that were coming in our direction. later, when we arrived in mojave to spend the night, the news would have several stories about the snow in san diego county.

it had been years since i had been to anza borrego and didn’t remember too much about the trip i took with my grandmother and great-aunt jo-jo back when i was about 15. so, i had no idea where we were to go to see the wildflower bloom, which was supposed to be just falling off of peak from a few days earlier.

the original plan was to hookup with one of my geocaching friends, fossillady, who lives there and works for the california state park system. but, since we were so late getting there, having had to turn around to go back and get my visa card, there was no time to visit with her and get the bird’s-eye-low-down (a firesign theatre reference) on where to look. so, i just trusted my judgment and instincts.

i drove north out of borrego springs until i noticed about a dozen cars parked on the side of the road.

this must be the place. or, at least, one of the places!

and it was!

we were a little too early for the cacti to be in full bloom, although we did see a couple of beaver tail cacti and one cholla sporting flowers, but the desert floor was alive with orange, yellow, purple and white flowers. not being a horticulturalist, i cannot tell you what they were except: beautiful!

we made two huge loops through the desert, stopped for a few minutes in a shallow wash for a motabreak and to get close to some of the little belly-flowers and headed back to the car.

as we drove toward the salton sea, we came upon another group of cars; this time about 50 of them parked along the road. i think this was what is called henderson canyon.

again, we were treated with orange and purple and, this time, a type of primrose (i only know this because we get an evening primrose in northern nevada that smells lovely when they open at night).

another quick loop into the des and we were back on the road again!

we worked our way around the western shore of the salton sea and over to i-10 and drove up to san bernardino before heading east on i-15, over cajon pass and onto the mojave desert; my old stomping grounds and friend!

it was full-on dark by the time we reached our hotel room in the town of mojave.

slumber came quickly that night. unfortunately, even though we slept-in a little later than we had the two previous mornings, so did morning!

road trip: b&n modified roadster --- part 3

2008-03-30T13:04:00.000-07:00

there is no coffee suitable for drinking in mojave!

so, we (mostly myself) bit the big one and headed west to the “mountain spirit” korean buddhist temple, which is in a lone canyon outside of tehachapi.

mee sook had been talking about this temple for about two weeks as we began planning our trip. it was built by an american who is a korean buddhist monk.

and what a job he did in creating the wonderful site.

unlike the other buddhist temples i had visited with mee sook, this one looked like what i would expect!

unfortunately for mee sook, the monk she was hoping to meet was not there. we did, however, meet a very charismatic monk who, despite not speaking much english, could have convinced me to do just about anything!

he did teach me some very basic techniques for meditating and totally entranced mee sook. he was all she talked about for the next several hours after leaving.

before we did leave, however, we were invited to join him for lunch. since we did not have breakfast, it was quite welcome and very tasty.

but, i could not wait to get down to rosamond to find a place where i could buy a cup of coffee. i attempted to find the starbucks, which i was told by david heavener, who has a home and movie studio in tehachapi, does exist in tehachapi. but, i was not successful in finding its locat.

by the time we got coffee (even mee sook was ready for a cup at this point) and was back in mojave, heading north on 395, it was after 1300 hours.

it was still another 6-hours to fallon, nevada and my father, brother and best friend willy, where we would spend that night.

it was about mid-trip that mee sook pulled the rug from under me: she told me that she had decided to ask the monk that we met to be her “master.” this meant that there was no room for me in her life!

what?????????

not an hour earlier, she was telling me how she wanted to live with me and build a life that would, eventually, take us to moab, utah.

now, she’s telling me that it’s been great but it’s all over!

all very clinical!

all very oriental!

great! not only do i have to deal with the feelings of a broken heart, i’ve got to do it while trying to see my brother, father (whom i have not seen since i left nevada last july) and best friend (whom i have not seen since he made his ill-fated move to colorado in 2006) willy of “the adventures of monty and willy”!

maybe i can just drive off of one of the cliffs along walker lake!

# # # # #

so, i didn’t drive off of the cliff.

it was about 2030 by the time we pulled into fallon for a quick stop to see my dad and brother before heading over to willy’s to spend the night in his spare bedroom.

we hung out for an hour or so before we all hit the sack.

i was up early the next morning so i could spend some more time with willy before he had to go to work then it was back to my dad’s to visit with him before he went to the doctor for a checkup, which gave me a little time to hang with mark before loading a few boxes of cd’s in the back of the taurus and heading back to california.

after a brief stop at mustang (home of the infamous “mustang ranch” brothel) to visit with my friends jim and gerri for a few minutes we were back on the road and heading to the monterey peninsula.

appropriately enough, i suppose, i loaded mee sook’s luggage into her car as the sun was setting; the end of a weekend that took my emotions from one extreme to another.

whata weekend!

2008-03-02T22:07:00.001-08:00

i had another amazingly wonderful weekend with mee sook!

you may notice that i have changed the spelling of her name. i was confused as to how to spell her name from when i first met her. the reason: when she first came to the united states in 1978, immigration misspelled her name. knowing how people can be prejudiced-jerks, i assumed they misspelled it: mesuk, as in: me suck. they did, however, misspell it misuk.

mee sook tells me that her name translates the following way:

mee = beautiful me.

sook = clearly.

clearly, she is!

we attempted to begin friday night with a view of the sunset, but the sun was not to be seen. so, we went over to allegro at the barnyard in the mouth of carmel valley for vittles.

following a mediocre italian dinner we drove out to “our beach” (mine and ron’s), wrapped up in a blanket and watched the waves for an hour or so.

on saturday we went hiking for the third time in garrapata state park between carmel-by-the-sea and big sur. we hiked up the canyon into the redwoods, ate berries and sourdough bread next to soberanes creek sitting on a fallen redwood and hiked up to our “secret spot.” i’d tell you where it is, but it is a secret spot!

we returned to the peninsula in time to watch the sunset at “our beach.”

today, mee sook called me to say that she needed to run up to santa clara to pick up some items for a friend whose mother is dying of cancer.

while we were in korea town we stopped by the buddhist temple then went over to one of the korean barbeque house. i thoroughly enjoyed a beef dish, which name i cannot remember and mee sook had a cold buckwheat noodle dish with beef strips. the dishes came with a variety of peripheral dishes, which included: 3 types of kimchi (napa cabbage, turnip and cooked napa cabbage), soy beans, steamed spinach, dried anchovies, fish cakes, some kind of soufflé and green tea. my dish also came with steamed rice. the meals were brought to a close with cups of rice water that is similar to mexican horchata, but without the condensed milk.

i enjoyed most of the meal completely. i was not all that into the dried anchovies and the turnip kimchi. but, i really enjoyed the shredded beef, the fish cakes, napa cabbage kimchi and the soufflé!

on our way back we needed to stop in gilroy. since, we took her car (i drove), we needed to go back to watsonville, where i left my car. so, i drove over hwy. 152 up into the redwoods.

as we reached the crest i saw a sign for mt. madonna county park, onto which i quickly turned.

we hadn’t been in the park for 10-minutes before a bobcat ran up the road in front of us.

we parked overlooking gilroy for several minutes, watched a banana slug, then drove to one of the hiking trails and strolled amongst the redwoods for about 90-minutes.

we left the park from the west side of the mountain and arrived into watsonville through a very scenic area.

the perfect ending to a perfect weekend!

adrian belew in san francisco

2008-02-26T20:36:00.001-08:00

not only has it been a long time since i have contributed to my blog, it has been even longer since seeing my friend, adrian belew, in concert.

not any more!

but, it almost didn’t come to this point.

i awoke saturday morning with one of my head- aches knowing i would not only have to drive all the way to san francisco, and try to keep a positive attitude for my friend mee sook, i was also going to have to sit-out a lecture with sosso (ron. someday, i’ll tell the story of nicknames. . . maybe) at california state university of monterey bay for their entertainment business (or, something-or-an-other) class.

i met misook not-so-bright-and-early at 0900-hours at the safeway in pacific grove, as it is so difficult to find the castle out here in pebble beach. after mee sook (pron: mee-sook) arrived in the parking lot, we headed out to pebble to park her car and then drove up to marina and the former site of fort ord for ron’s lecture.

as per usual: ron talked forever!

we scheduled him to talk for ½-hour. that turned into 1-hour-and-45-minutes.

well, it looks like we might have scored an intern or two to help on our projects and the instructor, when ron pointed-out my personally-stitched patchwork levis was because i was attending the abpt concert, announced that she was aware of adrian, robert fripp, king crimson, the bears and even the league of gentlemen i knew it was a good sign and the day would, eventually, improve.

when sosso finally wrapped up the lecture, mee sook and i hit the road for san francisco and our room at the hotel whitcomb.

all the way there mee sook, a licensed personal-care nurse and masseuse, massaged my head and shoulders while we listened to adrian’s 4 most recent releases: “side 1”, “side 2”, “side 3” and "side 4 (live)”.

when we arrived at the whitcomb, we were surrounded by rastafarian-types (dressed in the, apparently, obligatory black, red, yellow and green) also having their cars parked and checking into their rooms; it seems that, there was a reggae concert nearby, perhaps at the warwick, where i, along with my brother mark/ivan, last saw adrian when he was playing with king crimson (more on the krim later). all the time we were in the whitcomb the entire building carried the aroma of very-high-quality marijuana. not that i know that from experience.

no sooner had we entered our room than mee sook chased me into the bathroom to take an extra hot shower. upon my return she had stripped my bed and had me lay upon the top as she began the best and longest massage (almost 2-hours) i have ever experienced. by the time she was done, i was so relaxed it didn’t matter if i had a headache or not; i was more relaxed than i imagined possible.

and the headache was (mostly) gone.

we went downstairs for a wonderful dinner; i had seafood alfredo and mee sook had some-kind of grilled salmon: the other pink meat.

while we were eating i got a call from my tribal-friend rena (tickledrop) saying she was also eating dinner and would arrive at slim’s at about the same time i anticipated mee sook and i would.

after dinner we went upstairs to grab our umbrellas (did i forget to say a major storm was marching its way across the california coast?) and back down to the concierge to have him call for a cab.

eric, the hotel’s concierge, however, was unable to get the cab company to answer their phone. so, we decided to walk the 8-blocks, instead of waiting. fortunately, the rain had let-up to a fine mist, albeit quite windy.

as we wove our way in-and-out of buildings and streets we bucked the wind as we got closer and closer to slim’s. at one point the umbrella mee sook was holding (not sure why as it was not raining at this point) began to collapse against itself until she retracted it.

no sooner had we arrived at slim’s, to stand in line with about 30 other fans, than rena and her friend laurie/lori walked up to joins us. moments later, jen, my singing friend, and her boyfriend rené called saying they were just around the corner and would be joining us soon.

when the doors finally opened and we all began to enter, i was stopped by security and told i could not enter with my camera. apparently, only small pocket cams were allowed; the slr didn’t fit that description. so, they confiscated it and held onto it until the concert was over-and-done-with. not that i could have shot anything with it from either of the seats we occupied.

the pictures of the trio on this blog-post are courtesy of mark coleman from the planet crimson website.

i’m getting too old to want to stand at the front of the stage (after the show, adrian asked me where i was during the concert. i pointed to the balcony and said i’m getting to old to stand at the boards. his reply: “i’m getting to old to stand on stage!”) so, mee sook and i took the first table we could find, which was too short to see the tops of the mic stands. we stuck it out at that table through saul zonana’s performance (which i have to say i really love the sound of his guitar but i’m not sure i care that much for his musical style), but jennifer and renée were gracious enough to surrender their seats in the balcony to us and we were able to watch the trio while they danced on the floor below.

thanks, jen!

when we assumed our new positions up in the balcony, i received a tap on my shoulder and turned to find andrea standing there with geoff sitting just a few tables away; it’s always great to meet up with old and new friends at adrian belew/king crimson concerts!

and what a concert it was!

the trio hit the stage smokin’ and never let up! julie and eric slick - sister and brother rhythm section (bass and drums, respectively) - have all the prowess it takes to keep up with the master who is some 16-years older than their combined ages. these kids are going to go a long way in the music business! you deserve to be proud, robin!

they played all of the songs you can hear on “side 4 (live)” and even more, including the first live version i have heard in person of the krim song “neurotica”. they must have played at least half-a-dozen king crimson songs and, despite just being a trio with one lead-instrument, never lacked energy, execution, excitement, exuberance (these are words with an “e” this time), extrusiveness, effusiveness, effervescence, enthusiasm, or entertainment!

what surprised me the most was how much mee sook enjoyed the concert; she was dancing in her seat all night and never stopped telling me how much she liked the music. even the atonal pieces/sections put broad smiles on her face. “it’s so beautiful!” she kept saying. on our walk back to the hotel, she told me that she had seen kenny rogers, dolly parton (i’m sorry to hear that, mee sook), eric clapton (getting better) and (uncle) ray charles (right on!) and none of them were anywhere near as good as adrian! “i never dreamed anyone could make music like that or make the guitar sound the way he made it!”

i dream of it all the time!

before adrian came out to say hi to those of us still in the building, young eric was out on the stage breaking down his trap set. mee sook said she wanted to meet him. during the show she kept saying how impressed she was with the “the boy playing drums.” so, i introduced myself and told him that mee sook wanted to shake his hand. she said she was never going to wash her hand!

too cute!

before too long, adrian came out to greet us.

as mee sook, jen, rené and i approached him, adrian looked at me from about 20 feet out, smiled and said, “gregory (he knows me by my real name)! where the hell have you been?” it will be 5-years next month since adrian and i have spoken, so it was a treat to not have to remind him who i am. mark/ivan and i tried to talk with adrian after the kc warwick show back in november of 2003 but he snuKc out between rain showers. and willy and i tried to meet with adrian at slim’s in october 2005 when he was playing with the adrian belew power trio mki with no avail.

we talked for a few minutes and ade asked me where i’m living now.

“pebble beach.”

“you mean the home of concours?”

nodding with a smile i said “yap!”

“i’ve wanted to go to concours all of my life! what time of year is it?

“it’s the third week in august! i’ll get you passes and you’ll be my guest!

“ooh. . . i can’t promise anything yet. king crimson has a 10-day tour in august and i can’t remember the dates.”

half jokingly i said, “well, play one of those dates at concours!”

“oh, they’re already booked so i can’t change them.”

“bummer!”

“but, if the dates don’t conflict i promise i will take you up on your offer!”

so, i may have the opportunity to be adrian’s tour guide around pebble beach and see the cars at concours d’elegance.

longer than most of our post-concert conversations, but still all to quickly we said our goodbyes and we left slim’s.

before leaving, i finally had a chance to meet adrians wife, martha; lovely woman!

we walked with jen and rené to their car, said goodbye, and walked back to the hotel as the rain had subsided and it was not too cold and actually felt good to be in the air.

the next morning, after having breakfast and packing up the bags to leave, we waited for an empty elevator to reach our floor. eventually, we decided to take the stairs (we were only on the 3rd floor). i grabbed all of the bags so mee sook could take the doors.

she opened the door walked into the hall, turned to hold the door open for me and tumbled ass-over-teakettle halfway down the staircase. i was certain we’d be calling the ambulance to take her out of there!

she was only banged-up a bit and took a little skin off of one of her fingers from the strap of her purse, i assume.

we stepped out onto the 2nd floor and i put her in the next elevator while i walked down the rest of the way with all of the bags.

her right ankle was pretty swollen and she had a small bump on her head but was, all things considered, in pretty good shape. she was pretty sore yesterday but says she's much better today.

on the way out of town we stopped by a buddhist temple, but it was packed with people there for some special lunch, so we decided to split. but, not before heading over to the marina and up to fort point, where the waves were so fierce, even here in the bay, they were coming up over the road.

we drove around the north end of the peninsula, into golden gate park and out to the coast.

the waves were amazingly high at ocean beach, so high that the pier was closed.

we continued south, taking the long way all the way back to the monterey peninsula via route 1, enjoying the views all the way.

on our way we stopped at moss landing for lunch and watched two mother otters and their babies as they floated on their backs in the still water of the marina and continued our southerly drive into carmel valley and over to the korean buddhist temple.

we lit candles and incense and shared tea with one of the monks.

this was my first visit to a buddhist temple, something i have been interested in for the past few years, but the monk spoke very little english, so mee sook had to translate everything from korean.

he did, however, make me feel very comfortable and gave me a copy of the prajnaparamita sutra printed, in english on a very large sheet of rice paper (suitable for framing) as we shared several cups of green tea.

it was a great way to bring our san francisco/adrian belew weekend to a close!

riding the storm into 2008

2008-01-14T20:04:00.000-08:00

it has been an interesting few weeks around the castle!

unlike with thanksgiving, i had a warning that i was going to be the christmas chef. after seeing how the prior holiday was planned i decided that i needed to take control over christmas dinner instead of christmas dinner taking control of me.

the only negative input i got on thanksgiving dinner, despite me putting it together, with practically no notice, on thanksgiving eve, was that i didn’t make enough gravy. everyone thought it was great; they just thought that i didn’t make enough.

susie’s family have this tradition on the day after thanksgiving and christmas days which requires a great amount of leftover turkey gravy; they use it to top pancakes!

i guess it’s a ritual that’s been handed-down these many years.

and with the prince coming in from, at that time, soon-to-be-submerged fernley, nevada, copious amounts of gravy would be required.

to make sure that we were going to have enough gravy, we took a drive up to watsonville to hit the hostess day old bakery. as with the other stores in this chain, they sell southeastern mills gravy products.

i have had great gravy experiences with se mills’ country and peppered gravies and their cheddar cheese sauce; all made with water.

really!

end of commercial

i have not used it, but i have heard that the turkey gravy is very good, too.

i used that with the practice turkey.

yes!

ron required a practice turkey on december 22.

why roast two turkeys when you can roast one?

don’t ask!

but, i saved all of the drippings from the practice turkey and the stock i cooked down from the neck for the final bird.

i was also able to use the carcass to further make a rich stock.

i roasted the carcass, along with the neck from the final bird, in a really hot oven for about 40-minutes, adding a quartered-onion, some baby carrots, celery and garlic at about 20-minutes into the process and tossing in some rosemary, thyme and sage in the roasting pan in the last 5-minutes.

i boiled that in spring water for hours, filtering and reducing until it reached a rich, brown color and lump-free in viscosity.

the next day, i showed-up at the dollhouse with a turkey, roasted prime rib, dressing (my best ever!), cranberries (my best ever!) and mashed potatoes (i was told barbie insisted on bringing the side-dishes; the green bean/toasted onion ring/cream of mushroom soup-casserole-thing; and something else. she brought: mashed potatoes and special dressing for the prince.) and two containers for the gravy-fixin’s; one containing the stock that i had been reducing for hours; the other the contents of one of the gravy mix bags and some cornstarch.

through slight-of-hand, i warmed-up the stock, slipping in spring water until it came to a boil, mixed some cold water into the dry ingredients, mixed the slurry into the stock and the gravy was gravy!

i could have made a better gravy with just the stock i made, but i had to sacrifice quality for quantity.

not only was the gravy a hit for dinner (so was the turkey, dressing and cranberries), but it was also raved-about (as i am told) during breakfast for the boxing day pancake custom.

on christmas eve, as ron and i were heading out to the hog’s breath in carmel-by-the-sea for a christmas toast, a bobcat strolled out from our backyard and across the street.

the image is the best i could get without being attacked.

proof that the wildlife around here is, indeed, wild!

i spent new years eve, one of the few that i have not worked as emcee or party host for the last 30-years, with helen (i mean: whatshername) in san josé.

new years day seems like so long ago now, now that we have emerged from the other side of the storm!

the storm hit us full-force on friday, january 4 at about 0400 hours; at 0730, power stopped being delivered to the castle.

the image is that of "bird rock", an outcropping about the size of some of the mansions around here being sucked up by a giant post-storm wave.

i spent the first couple of nights at the castle; we still had hot water and it wasn’t that cold. i was trying to look at it as a camping adventure.

but, by the time it was time to try to get the business up and running without the assistance of good-old a/c, staying in the castle all night didn’t sound as much like a camping adventure as it did a sentence.

so, we started accepting rooms offered to us by lone oak richard, who happens to own: the lone oak lodge over in monterey. a great place to stay when you are here in cypress coast country.

end of commercial

but, trying not to overuse richard’s gesture of goodwill, and trusting that pg&e wouldn't let its faithful customers down, i was alternating nights between the castle and the lone oak.

by the time i spent my last night at the castle, before the return to power and glory, it was becoming quite cold; colder than outdoors in the manner that empty houses get during the winter.

when i go to bed to sleep, even during winter, i usually have just one light blanket to go over the sheets and another light blanket to go atop the first blanket in case it is really cold. i had four blankets covering me that night and i was still a little on the chilly-side!

eventually, ron chased me up to san josé to take up space in helen’s (remember whatshername?) spare bedroom.

while i was up there, my brother mark was on his way to the central coast from nevada. we met just down the road from whatshername's to recycle some non-ferrous metals and he and jojanna followed me back to the peninsula.

lo-and-behold: power actually came back up in the castle on thursday afternoon at about 1600 hours – one-week and 9-hours after it last breathed life into the drafty building.

i have no idea why, but pg&e left one of the major roadways passing through pebble beach, an emergency route needed by firecrews and ambulances, had they been needed, blocked by a tree that fell and took two power poles and the wires and cables it suspended with it. they must have had their reasons.

the image is that of the downed tree and power poles and lines, which stayed this way for a week before pg&e removed them and restored our power.

mark’s time here was like a whirlwind: here one minute and gone the next.

it was great to hang with him for the few hours that we had together and to show off a little of what i have learned about the area and be the consummate tour guide that i am.

surf was up while they were here, so they got to see some surfers (those locals not invited to mavericks, just up the coast in half moon bay, that same day) work the 25-footers off of "ghost tree" on the 17-mile drive and check out the mysteries of "the restless sea", where two, and sometimes three, currents merge in a great maelstrom of waves coming in different directions.

this image is that of "the restless sea" taken a day before the storm reached us. if you click on the pic you can zoom-in enough to see one current coming at the camera and one coming from the left.

since mark left, i have spent my time trying to get melrose media back online (oh yeah. we didn’t get dsl back, which comes in on the fax line, until saturday night!) and uploading pictures that i took in the aftermath of the storm.

my photo gallery is here. from here you can check out the various albums, each taken at the location named in the title of the album. all of the storm pictures were taken on the day after the storm, except for the one titled “damage”.

in the wake

2008-01-06T19:16:00.001-08:00

we are still without power at the castle and it looks like it will be days before we get it back; the power pole that was brought down by the wind near us is just one small example of what pebble beach looks like as there are lines and poles down all over the peninsula.

i took a couple of walks around the neighborhood today, to survey the damages, and learned more than i expected: the pole that fell next to the castle was brought down by a falling monterey pine of about 150 feet in height. but, it brought down more than just one pole; i took two poles with it. and that is just one small incident. it is like that all over pebble.

many of the roads are still closed as crews cut and remove fallen trees, power poles and other debris.

most of the scenic turnouts on the coastal section of the 17-mile drive have been cleared of the tons of rocks, driftwood and sand brought up by the wild surf. but, several miles of the famous drive have been barricaded because of the damage described above.

it appears that most of monterey has power back up, but there are many dark sections; same with pacific grove. carmel seems to be in only slightly better shape than pebble beach.

at least the golf courses are open and busy. although, one of the holes of the monterey peninsula looks like it may no longer exist.

as far as internet access goes: i'm still living in the 1990s with dial-up instead of high-speed. so, it will be a few days before i'm able to post any pictures.

life is an adventure!

cypress coast storm damage

2008-01-06T18:27:00.000-08:00

just a quick update on conditions here on the central california coast.

i'm on dial up. i'll not be posting pics until we get power back up. i have around 100 pics, so far, and they say the tidal surge is going to be sever. so. i hope to have more dramatic wave pics, in addition to the ones i already have.

we have no damage, here at the castle. but, there is much around us. a power pole, about feet from us, snapped in half; many trees are down, a wall at a home on the 18th-hole of the pebble beach golf links was completely crushed from an oak tree - just missing the house; not only kelp and driftwood are being tossed up onto the 17-mile drive (1/4-mile from where i not type this, dear friend), but rocks the size of rocks are strewn across the road and scenic turnouts; the waters just off downtown monterey and cannery row is full up floating debris..

power lines are down everywhere. pg&e is nowhere in sight. it could be days before we get power back. at least it is not cold here; high of 55; low of 45; not much cooler than summer.
a few surfers and powered-surfers (whatever they call riding waves in a jetski) are braving (or is that stupiding?) the giant waves.

when i left here this morning i was treated to the sight of a 40 foot wave.

they are supposed to get bigger as the tide comes in.

mother nature is so cool even with her violence!

biting the bullitt

2007-12-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

we were in san francisco twice this week.

on wednesday we were at the auto show as guests of nissan for the unveiling of their new gt-r and a minivan concept car: the forum.

we actually saw the forum in las vegas a month ago at the sema show. but, the gt-r has only been seen in public a couple of times.

nissan gt-r

it’s gonna be a pretty hot car!

we didn’t get to see the entire show, but we did get to see most of it.

interesting color for a lamborghini!

it was a beautiful night in san francisco and i could have walked through the city for another hour before heading back to the parking garage.

on friday we were back in the city; this time for ford day at the presidio overlooking san francisco bay and the golden gate bridge and another absolutely gorgeous day.

the golden gate club at the san francisco presidio

we met ford’s design director, freeman thomas, and got to drive some of the new 2008 products: on hand were several fords, including two bullitt mustangs and one saleen mustang, 3 jaguars, a few mazdas, a range rover, land rover and a volvo.

on our first ride, ron got behind the wheel of a mazda suv. i’m not sure what model. but, it is based on the same chassis as the ford explorer.

on our next ride, i was in the driver seat of a new jaguar xk-r.

jaguar xkr

oh, was that a sweet car! as much as i would like a new mustang (more on that later) i really enjoyed driving the jag! everything about it felt right! it was smooth, powerful and handled like a dream!

it also attracted a very attractive woman who, when we stopped to get a shot of the car with the golden gate bridge in the background, agreed to step into frame for a few shots. nothing makes a great car look better than a beautiful woman! thank you for joining me, ali!

l-r: xkr; monty; ali

upon our return, ron got behind the wheel of a new range rover, which was not much different from the 2007 “classic” we had a few months ago, but still a very nice car.

sosso with a range rover

the ride of the day, however, came next when i slipped into the driver seat of a 2008 bullitt mustang. the bullitt mustang commemorates the 40^th anniversary of the movie “bullitt” starring steve mcqueen, which was filmed in san francisco. in case you have forgotten: bullitt was the first of the great car chase movies and still one of the best car chase scenes ever filmed.

every time we took out one of the cars we used the same mandated route, which drove around the north tip of the southern peninsula, under the golden gate bridge and back to the presidio; about 20-minutes in all.

the limited edition 2008 bullitt mustang

most of the route had speed limits of 25 mph. except for the brief stretch on 19^th as you enter the tunnel that leads to the golden gate bridge, which is 45 mph.

when i drove the jag i was able to get my foot into it a little, but didn’t go any faster than 60 mph.

but, when we got here in the mustang, i couldn’t resist hanging my leg in it to feel all 315 horses.

as i rounded the corner from lake street the car in front of me took a wide turn and went for the right lane. that left the left lane open for me; there was no one in front of me for as far as i could see into the tunnel.

i rounded the bend, slipped it into second, checked the mirrors for police cars, waited until i was passed the other car, did another search for authorities and put my foot halfway down to the floor.

this engine sounds so sweet, but wrapped by concrete walls that surround the ingress/egress of the tunnel, the engine sounded like a nascar stocker revving up!

without stretching it out too far, i shifted into 3^rd, gracefully got back onto the throttle and was lifting before i even reached the mouth of the tunnel as the speedometer eclipsed 90 mph; probably faster than any of the cars ever ran when they filmed the infamous car chase scene in the movie for which this sporty green mustang is named.

from there i calmly drove back to the presidio in time for them to start loading up the cars.

i missed a ride in the 620 horsepower saleen extreme mustang as it was giving a low tire pressure light on the left rear tire and by the time it was corrected we were too late to take it out. like i needed another 300 horsepower than the bullitt had.

we left the presidio, only slightly deflated after the thrilling rides, and headed for perry’s on union street for drinks and dinner.

it wasn’t long before the vacant seats to my right were taken up by two attractive buffalo-gals (from buffalo, new york now living in san francisco and not resembling bison in the least, thank you) who quickly became our new friends.

megan and carolyn were a lot of fun and, as it turns out, carolyn’s uncle owns slim’s, where my friend and hero, adrian belew and his power trio, will be playing on february 23^rd. not only is carolyn, who also happens to work for rolling stone magazine, going to hook me up with tickets, i think she and megan and even ron are going to join me for the show! i’d better try to remember to bring earplugs for ron!

after an hour, or so, the girls were off for a previous engagement and we were working over our dinner (a thick broiled, pomegranate glazed pork chop for me and steak fajitas for ron).

after dinner we walked across the street to grab coffee from starbucks and began our drive back to the castle.

ron has been trying to get me to ford day for the past 4-years. i missed taking a ride (ride not drive, unfortunately) in a ford gt.

who's the turkey?

2007-11-29T22:01:00.000-08:00

thanksgiving was not what i expected it would be.

not entirely.

originally, we were going to go out for dinner; i’m not sure where.

then, around a week before, susie decided she was going to make dinner; roast a turkey; make dressing; all the traditional trappings.

come tuesday night (that would be the tuesday just 2-days before thanksgiving) i learned that what susie meant by roasting a turkey actually meant that she was buying a roasted turkey from whole foods.

she had not, however, yet ordered it.

so, wednesday morning i ventured into the hell known as whole foods to buy one of these fabled roasted turkeys.

there were none, as i suspected. there also were no fresh, or even thawed, previously frozen birds.

without haste, i left whole foods, and the chaos of neo-hippies, brain-dead liberals and wealthy idiots who seem to congregate to be seen by the other neo-hippies, brain-dead liberals and wealthy idiots, and drove around the corner to the monte vista market.

the monte vista is known for, not only the workplace of the original melvin (pronounced: mebbin) and his magnificent barbeque work, but the best meats on the peninsula; unless, of course, you are a neo-hippie, brain-dead liberal or wealthy idiot.

i set out looking for a 12-pound turkey; i had to settle for a 15-pound free ranger sans hormones.

on the way back to the castle i stopped off at save-mart to grab a few other provisions, spices and necessities.

have you figured it out yet that i’m now the chief thanksgiving chef?

i’m a smart guy; i should have known when i heard that susie was going to make dinner that i was going to be doing the cooking.

but, not being much of a fan of traditional thanksgiving foods, i find it difficult to get geared up to preparing those foods. but, i decided to give it my best effort.

i slipped some fresh herbs (sage, thyme and rosemary) and ground pepper between the skin and meat, popped a cut-up onion, a few cloves of garlic and some celery tops into the cavity, dry-rubbed ground pepper and salt over the skin and put the breast-down turkey into a 450° oven for 20-minutes before backing the thermostat down to 325. after a couple of hours i tuned the breasts-up and took off the foil-tent to let it brown.

i was given a sit-down-to-dinner-time of 2:00 (why is it that thanksgiving dinner comes so early?). but, when my bird was already out of the oven and resting, ready to be taken up to the dollhouse, i got a call telling me that i would get a call in about an hour to bring the turkey, gravy fixin’s and candied yams; susie needed more time to finish her part of the dinner.

by 4:30 i gave up, packed up the dinner and headed to the dollhouse.

when i got there susie was just beginning to prepare a whole foods version of stovetop stuffing and mashing potatoes, her contribution to dinner. oh, and a can of cranberries (it’s no wonder that people hate cranberries if all they have had are cranberries out of a can).

by 5:30 we sat down to eat my turkey dinner that was ready 3-and-a-half-hour earlier.

well, you can’t have turkey without stuffing, right?

but, we couldn’t eat until ron told us a thanksgiving story.

despite the tardiness: the turkey was still moist!

and, since it had the chance to “rest” for such a long time, it carved (even with one of the dollhouse's not-so-sharp knives) easily and neatly.

knowing that i would be facing the same situation for christmas dinner, i have already volunteered to cook the entire dinner.

i’m such a fool!

the hobby habit

2007-11-26T19:27:00.001-08:00

it’s been a while since i’ve updated my blog; i’ve been staying busy with a couple of new hobbies.

the first one began from getting ron’s radio show, “wheel talk coast to coast”, reformatted and back on the air in los angeles.

in the past: ron did his show live over the phone at each station that carried it.

we are now recording it in our studio. this not only gives me a chance to put a little spit-polish on it, i can also put music behind it. but, i’m limited to music that is royalty-free.

which means i had no musical options.

so, i started poking around the second disk of my adobe audition audio editing software and began putting little tunes together from the loops (some :12 seconds long while others measure out as single drum-beats) that are included.

at first, i practiced with loops that were made to go together, which is kind of like a paint by numbers method of making music.

i’ve tried to link directly to each of the tracks i have below, but the loop-site won’t let me do that. so, you’ll have to click “play” on each title from my catalog of tracks. just scroll down a bit to see the listings. find them here.

make sure you turn off the music on the playlist before you play the loops.

my first attempt is called “technoblo.”

i have since graduated to making my own drum loops for each song.

the first example of my own drum loops is a little jazz track is call “funky for helen.”

another free-er form of freeform jazz can be heard on “sosso.”

“wheel talk coast to coast themes” has the intro, interludes and outro themes from ron’s show.

these loops are a lot like playing a video game. it is also that infectious.

now, i go to several websites to get my samples.

i’m working on a series of loops for a fishing show that we syndicate.

my other new hobby isn’t really a new hobby; it’s photography.

ron just bought the company a new digital slr camera. which means: i have a new digital slr camera to play with.

it’s a canon rebel xt and i’m already loving it!

i have yet to use any of the “creative” features (except for the repeat shot) and am just using the basic features until i get used to it. but, i intend to experiment with it the more i use it.

the pictures i've attached to this blog were taken at "our beach" using the continuous shooting feature.

if you look in the right sidebar of this blog you will find a link to my online photo album. the latest pics are in the file "11/24/07". there, you will also find a bunch of pre-digital pics.

i’ve shot about 75 images so far. but, despite just coming out of the highest tide of the year, the waves have been less than spectacular since we bought the new camera. of course, the day before we got it, the waves were raging! and, until today, it has been very sunny. so, it has been to bright for a decent picture. i’m a patient man. i can wait.

afmazing

2007-11-08T11:19:00.000-08:00

the morning after we got back from vegas, i ran ron over to the monterey airport so he could go to the american film market for a day-and-a-half, leaving me at the castle to operate the business and organize our event with bob lutz, the head of general motors, which takes place next week.

ron returned on saturday, november 3^rd for the make a wish foundation fundraiser, which was put on by clint and dina eastwood at tahoma country club, which happens to be owned by mr. eastwood.

i drove ron and susie up and back in the 700 series bmw, which was an adventure in itself. just to get to the clubhouse you have to pass through two guarded gates and dodge dozens of deer roaming freely on the roadway.

the best part of the night, as ron tells it: he and susie got seated with some high-dollar prostitute from las vegas whose breasts wouldn’t stay in her dress.

the following morning we were heading down highway 101 for the second-half of the american film market.

being a person who never wants to do things the easy way, ron wanted us to stay all the way down in fountain valley with an old friend of his. jim and patty and jim’s mother are wonderful people and i’m really happy i got to meet them and truly enjoyed their hospitality and hot tub!

afm was a zoo!

i don’t know where to start or how much i really want to say about it.

it was held at two hotels on the beach in santa monica. we were in loew’s hotel just down the coast a few hundred yards from the world famous santa monica pier in a suite with david heavener, stan derain and greg berkin. all three have film projects they were shopping around and greg also was there to promote his new mobile movie platform for smart phones and palm devices, which he developed and ron and i are trying to help promote.

besides spending $18 for 2 bottles of water and 2 cokes (all of them 8 ounce bottles), i was able to sneak off for a few minutes with ron to find my first socal, and ron’s first ever, geocache. i did, however, only find the velcro that, at one time, held the cache in its former place.

i also hung out with one of the actresses in one of david’s new projects: a tv show called “chronicles of an exorcist. you may remember lee benton from “mickey spillane's mike hammer” who played jenny the bartender.

on tuesday we headed out to the valley to have lunch with ron’s former-girlfriend, alison freebairn-smith, and ron’s former-houseboy, billy marich, who is a producer at hgtv.

i’ve been hearing about both alison and billy for years. so, it was nice to finally have an opportunity to meet them.

from there were all too quickly back on the road and heading back to the castle.

all in all, i’d have to say the trip to vegas was more fun but the trip to socal was a real eye-opener and certainly introduced me to some very interesting people!

sema gooda thinga to do ata the time

2007-11-07T16:51:00.001-08:00

FLASH!!

ron just left to go pick up the shitzus. he thought he was just going to the groomer’s but as it turns out susie left them at the day spa.

well, you can imagine the cruelty involved in taking them to a regular groomer.

on his way to get the dogs, ron is stopping by to rent a new bentley as the day spa doesn’t allow anything less than a car of that price to carry away any of the animals they groom.

i hope the poor things weren’t rushed to quickly from their soak in the hot tub.

# # # # #

i have spent much of the past couple of weeks out of town.

it started with a trip to las vegas for the sema show and ended with a trip to santa monica and the afm show.

since i intend to add a few videos, i’ll probably do this in a couple of installments.

my trip to vegas began early sunday evening, october 28 when helen (who doesn’t want me to write about her, so just pretend you didn’t read her name) picked me up here in pebble beach. after a cruise around the coastline we headed over to cannery row for an unremarkable dinner at one of the area mexican chain-restaurants before driving north to san jose.

early the next morning we left youknowwho’s place for breakfast and then a quick jaunt over to the heavily congested san jose airport; what a mess that place is!

despite the craziness my flight got off on time and, for most of the trip, followed hwy. 101 as far as ventura before heading out to sea.

we began our approach to orange county’s john wayne airport with a sweeping turn over catalina island giving those of us on the starboard side of the aircraft a great view of the isle.

as we made our very graceful landing, we passed a b-25 and b-17 bomber, two c-47s and one reconnaissance (black, of course) aircraft that i could not identify that were parked on the tarmac. hopefully, they are all flight-worthy; it would be such a waste to see them rest as static museum pieces.

within moments i had my baggage in my hand at the carousel and walked to the “white loading and unloading zone” to meet my longtime and dear friend alan. he greeted me with a really pretty charcoal grey mustang he was attempting to diagnose a problem with a computer, which alan says is the first such problem he has seen in the model. he also told me that, in his opinion, which i would have to value being he is fairway ford’s technical service manager, the mustang is the best car ford is making at this time. this only served to make me want one even more.

we circled the airport and headed over to a little, very noisy place for some really remarkable fish tacos and a chance to get to talk, albeit loudly, face-to-face for the first time in about 5-years.

in far too short of a period, alan took me back to just across the street from the airport to meet ron where he was having a luncheon meeting with some of the roex folks.

before long we were headed northeast, across the mojave desert, to sin city and our suite at the luxor.

we checked-in, unpacked and trammed/walked over to the mgm grand for the first of the several parties we were invited to attend, one devoted to electronic devices intended for use in cars.

there was a seemingly unending supply of interesting and delicious foods to enjoy and rivers of upper-top shelf liquor (“woodford reserve, please!”) pouring from the three open bars as beautiful spokeswomen charmed and flirted with those of us in attendance.

our reason for being at sema was to recruit sponsors for the western automotive journalists media days 2008 in april. so, this party was a veritable gold mine of potential sponsors.

besides making some great contacts both ron and i walked out with brand new gps-receivers courtesy of magellan. neither of them appropriate for geocaching (like most magellans). but, both are wonderful for navigational purposes sporting features like address-to-address navigation and traffic detour routes. mine will find its way into the deathmobile and later into the mustang if things come together with the big project ron and i are working on.

after a cab-ride, which we seemed to wait for forever, the entire following day was spent on the floors and parking lots of the convention center schmoozing more potential sponsors and mugging with attractive spokescreatures of every flavor imaginable.

that night we attended a party put on by honda where the food and liquor continued until, assumingly by the way the crowd seemed to not waiver, far after we left.

before leaving, however, i noticed somebody sitting near our table who looked very familiar. i was certain he was a former bonneville official named bob, but for the life of me i could not remember his last name. finally, i approached the gentlemen and asked: “have you ever been to the bonneville nationals?” “only every year since 1961!” he replied. by then i was close enough to see that his i-d badge read “bob mcmillian.” bob mac, as i always (except for the previous 20-miuntes) remembered him.

bob was always one of my most favorite bonneville-people and it was great to see him that night! his friend, john, grabbed a picture of the two of us and i gave bob one of my business cards, so i hope to have a picture it in my online album before too long.

in further proof that this really is a small world: bob was not only at laguna seca for the american le mans, described in a previous edition of my blog, but was also in the audi vip suite! what a trip!

from the honda party we walked about 50 feet to the next pavilion to the nissan party, which was much more exclusive in as far as invitations went, but not nearly as fun as the others. but, the free makers mark poured freely in the form of a triple; my last drink of the night, of which i only got about halfway through before deciding i had had enough.

we took the monorail across town to the mgm grand and walked/trammed back to the luxor.

the next morning we were on our way back to pebble beach bright and early with a brief stop at david heavener’s movie-ranch in tehachapi.

more on david in the story of the afm in santa monica in the next blogisode.

we made it back to pebble in time to greet the first of the only 4 or 5 groups of trick or treaters to dare approach the castle gate.

# # # # #

FLASH

i just got an email from bob mac, which included this picture:

monty and mac

bob has been busy since i saw him in vegas: the nhra finals; el mirage exhibit at the wally parks museum and off to el mirage tomorrow for the lakes meet.

pitstops and packing for sema

2007-10-27T19:51:00.000-07:00

i’ve been trying to get this post out for a week. i’ve been busier this week than i have since we painted the castle. we’ve been getting ready for the sema show in las vegas and the american film market in santa monica. some people can only handle one convention in one week. we, on the other hand, prefer to tackle as many as possible.

ron flew down to newport beach thursday to a luxury condominium villa where susie and barbie have been staying since sunday. i’ve been going back and forth between the castle and the dollhouse taking care of landyn and logan and shitsus and running the show here at the castle.

lemme tell you: it’s a good thing landyn isn’t my child or i’d be in prison for her death!

enough about the 16-year-old monster!

i did just get back from logan’s game. mpc won 26-3.

susie and barbie drive back tomorrow, so i’m off the hook at the dollhouse.

helen is driving down from san jose to get me tomorrow afternoon. i think we’re going to go to the haunted house at the american tin cannery on cannery row (she says she doesn’t like scary things but the haunted house was her idea). then, we’ll drive back to her place to spend the night. on monday morning, she’ll drive me over to the airport. i fly down to orange county where ron will pick me up, after lunch with my lifelong friend alan, whom i have not seen for around 5-years. from there, we will drive into vegas for the sema show. after a couple of days there we’ll drive back to the peninsula and ron will fly down to l.a. for afm for 2-days, fly back for a make a wish foundation banquet with clint and dina eastwood and he and i will drive back down to l.a. the next day for the rest of the show.

i heard from my friend gary who lives, hopefully still, in rancho santa fe, where one of the california wildfires has been raging. he was evacuated and he, his wife and their great danes were staying in the del mar hilton. they live on the golf course (i think i saw video of a helo drawing water from one of that courses water hazards for a drop). gary said, the last i talked to him, that flames were within ½ mile from their home. those fires are a very sad and scary situation and my heart goes out to him, his wife and everyone else affected by the fires. besides a ferrari, lambourghini and maserati, they have many other lavish items, including the house itself, they have been worried about.

i spent most of last weekend at laguna seca for the american le mans series finale as guest of audi, north america. they really know how to party! i spent most of the time in their luxury vip box eating great food and being treated like i am the dude that i am.

i also got to put on a firesuit and stand in the audi pit (the eventual race winner and season champions). this was a very cool experience! i had on a lightweight suit with a headset so i could hear what was going on.

i was placed just behind the wall about 20 feet from the nose of the car when i came in. i was able to take video of the experience. it is, however, unedited as i’m having so much trouble with the editor that came with the god-awful video camera that we have (advice: do not buy a camera called supacam! your life will be much better if you do not have it. the image quality is horrible, as you will see if you watch the videos, and it is cumbersome and a technical nightmare. according to ron: even i would have bought one after the demonstration by the long-legged-large-breasted-doe-eyed-viking-chick who sold it to him. i doubt it since my tastes in women run more toward the non-synthetic type. but, we have it so we use it from time to time.). the pitstop did not go well as they had trouble with one of the rear tires. at least it was under a yellow flag. they lost ground to the penske porsche team (you can see the two penske cars get out before the audi), but gained it back for the win at the end of the 4-hour endurance race.

in the first video, we are leaving one of the team’s travelers after suiting up and walking over to the pit. you can see several of the other teams getting ready for their pit stops as we make our way over to the first pit stall. i tried to narrate as i walked and during the stop, but you can only
hear me occasionally because of the noise.

after the stop, in the second video, i get a look at the tires that came off of the car. but, because i could not see the screen to tell what i was shooting my aim was a little off. same when i tried to
get shots of myself.

in the third video i get a few seconds of interview-time with andy, the pit tour guide and give you a little bit of a tour of the pits as i walk back to the vip box to hook back up with ron and say thank you to stephanie, who was my personal contact with audi while i was there. you can actually hear me in most of this video.

the audi people were very nice! i got to meet the president of audi, north america and a few of the other mucky-mucks.

one of the things that really impressed me with the audi cars is: they are all diesels! they were the quietest cars out there and had the most horsepower; a winning combination if there ever was one!

there have been a few interesting developments in the last week: i was invited to attend the grammy awards with one of ron’s friends, alison freebairn-smith. alison is in the music biz. her father, ian freebairn-smith, is a composer of note (no pun intended, but it was convenient) . alison’s boyfriend played all of george harrison’s licks in “concert for george.”

it looks like i may also have another chance at being in the movies. another of ron’s friends, whom we will see at afm, is filming two movies with chuck norris. maybe chuck will kill me in one of these. that would be too cool!

speaking of being in the movies: we’ll stop in at david heavener’s movie ranch on the way back from vegas to take a peek. he won’t be there or filming as he’ll be in l.a. for the afm.

i got notice the other day that, after all the years of living in northern nevada and trying to get adrian belew to play somewhere in reno, carson city or up at the lake, he’s doing a show on the south shore (lake tahoe will never be the same once he and the slick siblings rock 'em out! btw: julie's and eric's mother, robin, has a blog of her own listed on the sidebar in my "blog rollcall".) before coming down to slim’s in san francisco. not sure if i’ll be able to catch the tahoe gig or not. but, i’ll make it to slim’s for sure. this will be my third time seeing ade at slim’s and my first time to catch the adrian belew trio mark II.

well, i need to get packed and back up to the dollhouse for shitsu patrol.

tales to tell: dog gone

2007-10-17T22:46:00.000-07:00

several years ago (we’re talking almost 40 of them, dear friends), back when i first acquired my driver’s license, i used to drive my friends and myself around the hills above hacienda heights for shits-and-giggles after school got out. when i first started attending high school i was going to a school (bassett in la puente in the bassett unified school district) with a 3-year curriculum. we moved, however, 4-months into my sophomore year to another district (west covina unified), which put me into a school (edgewood) with a 4-year curriculum. because of this, my classes were all screwed up. for the next 2¾-years most of my classes were with underclassmen. except when they were with the class ahead of mine. so, i did not know very many students who graduated the same year (1971) as myself. i was the first of my edgewood friends to have a driver’s license.

one of the things we used to do while we were up in the hills was visit this old hermit. strange dude! his hands were always loosely tied together with an old ratty robe sash. according to him it was because he had arthritis and it kept him from moving too much. he was living in this old panel truck that was abandoned in the middle of an old dirt road. we used to bring him care packages of food and cigarettes. according to him, his son made him live there.

who knows?

one of the other places we hit was a place we called gravity hill. i think every place has one of these alleged anti-gravity slopes where it looks like you’re going uphill when you’re really going downhill. even my imagination didn’t fall for this place. but, everyone else in the car was diggin’ it so, who am i to be a wet blanket?

something else that was in this area that is in just about every place is a haunted house.

this house was on a peak along the ridge that ran between hacienda heights and whittier. you couldn’t actually see the house from the road, but we all knew it was there and we all knew that it was haunted. even the students all the way across the valley in west covina were hip to this old house and that it was haunted by the ghost of a woman who was killed, along with her faithful german shepherd, some years ago by someone-or-an-other for some-thing-or-an-other; the stories varied, but they were surely true. who would make up something like that?

the entire estate was fenced off with chain link, even the driveway, which had an old wrought iron gate that appeared to not have been opened since the last of the murder investigations way back in the 1930s, or 40s, depending on who told the story. behind the gate was a wall (i think it was brick that had been covered in cement or some kind of adobe to give it a smooth, contoured effect) adorned by inlayed tiles that surrounded the property. the only openings in the wall, besides the driveway, was a front walk that welcomed visitors from years passed and was the only place to access the house as the smooth-sided wall was far to high to climb; the gate was no longer barring the front walkway.

you still, of course, had to climb 8 feet of chain link to gain access. but, what was an 8-foot fence to high school kids looking for kicks? at least it didn’t have a course of barbed wire across the top.

so one day we did, indeed, climb the fence and walked through the archway where the front gate used to swing from its hinges, which were still bolted to the wall.

just inside the archway, the walkway made an abrupt turn to the right in a maze-like fashion. the brick walkway was about 6 feet wide with a wall equal in height to the surrounding wall dictating the direction one would have to walk to enter the property.

after about 50 feet the walkway turned 90° to the left for about 2 feet then made another 90° left around the wall and opened up to a once landscaped hillside, now overgrown with shrubbery and weeds showing years of neglect; large trees shaded the area from the sun.

the walkway followed the other side of the inner-wall until it reached about the midpoint of the outer walkway before turning right and ascending brick stairs, which followed the contour of the hillside; a short brick planter, maybe 2 feet high bordered the stairway.

about 100 feet up the stairs there was a square cement basin about 10 feet in diameter and 2 feet deep that once held water for a fountain, which looked like had been vandalized years earlier; the only thing left in the basin was a shallow pool of stagnant water covered over with a skim of algae; a couple of rusty pipes jutting out from the center. the brick walkway went around both sides of the fountain before rejoining on the other side and continuing back up the hill with more stairs.

the stairs leveled out onto several terraces (maybe 3 or 4) every 100 feet or so as the bricks continued their ascent to the house above. we stopped at each terrace to reassure ourselves that there was really no ghost and if there was we were too wise (spelled: s-t-u-p-i-d) to be hurt by it. the higher we climbed up the stairs, the more of the house we could see as the contour of the hillside revealed more of the structure.

as we gained the top of the stairs the brick walkway split into two directions around the multi-story (3, maybe 4) structure, which stood about 100 feet in front of us.

for some reason, the walkway did not come up to the front, back or even the side of the old house. it came up to one of the corners. i guess the walkway was an afterthought or maybe it was some architect’s idea of a unique approach, or feng shui.

unique it was!

after a moment or two of discussion as to which way we would walk toward the house (left or right) we began to walk to the right; me in the point position.

after a dozen steps, or so, we heard something that chilled us more than the sight of any ghost: a barking dog; a big barking dog and, by the sound, it was quickly running in our direction.

being the one in the lead as we approached the house, i was the last in line as we turned and ran down the stairs!

before i reached the first terrace on our frantic way down i could hear the dog’s claws clicking on the bricks as it ran after us, continuing its frightening bark.

i was sure i was going to fall a couple of times on my way down the stairs as the dog quickly shortened the distance between us (me) and it but did not.

at least not so far.

as i approached the fountain, the dog sounded as if it was about a dozen or so feet just behind me. not wanting to slow down to negotiate the sharp turns around the fountain i ran straight to the edge of the slimed-over pool and leaped across it, not knowing if i would clear the edge, drop into the pool, impale myself on the rusty pipes, slip and break a leg from the algae or crack my head on the far rim.

god knows how, but i cleared the pool and did not lose my footing, which gave me a few extra feet on the dog as it ran around the right side of the basin. i heard the its claws slide on the bricks and body crash against the planter; its bark changed slightly as it crashed into the wall.

not that it mattered much: the dog would surely reach me before i could get halfway up the chain link fence, if i even made it that far before the angry hound would catch me.

all the way down the stairs i was afraid to look around at the dog. not because i was scared to see our attacker. i didn’t want to take the time to turn and maybe lose my balance. besides, i was nearing the bottom of the staircase now and would have to make a 90° left turn at the inner wall; i’d probably see more than i wanted once i got there. especially since the dog was now right on my heels, still barking as its nails continued to sound the distance between the two of us; maybe 8 feet.

maybe!

as i reached the wall i put my hands out to stop from crashing into it and pushed myself off to give me a little boost to help me negotiate the sharp turn. my friend, tony, was just going around the 180° turn around the inner wall; i could hear bob, or maybe it was dave, climbing up the chain link on the other side.

that left me alone with the dog!

as i made the left turn i looked over my shoulder expecting to see the huge dog ready to pounce as my alleged friends deserted me to be mauled by the mad giant.

there was nothing there!

the mad barking had ceased as well.

all i could hear was dave, or maybe it was bob, now on his way over the fence and tony’s running steps on the other side of the inner wall.

i didn’t stop running until i reached the end of the inner wall.

the dog was not in sight!

“he’s gone!” i yelled out of breath as tony began to climb the fence. “he’s gone!”

“what do you mean he’s gone?” bob asked from his sanctuary on the other side of the fence.

“there’s nothing here!” i replied panting for air, and stuck my head around the inner wall to see tony stopping his climb at the top of the fence. “come here and take a look!”

“you’re fucking crazy!” tony said and continued to climb over the fence.

“no, really!” i said, and leaned back into the other side of the inner wall – the dangerous side of the inner wall. “there’s nothing here!”

tony dropped down the other side of the fence. “get over here idiot!” he pleaded as he hit the other side; the others joined him in convincing me that i should do the same.

i took one last look up the stairs and walked toward the fence. i think i might have walked backwards as i kept an eye out for the phantom dog, but we never saw or heard it again.

i clumsily climbed over the fence as my muscles were now feeling the affects of the run down the stairs and dropped to the other side to join my breathless friends.

without a word, we jumped into my car and locked the doors behind us. we sat there for several minutes talking about what we had just experienced. we all agreed that we were being chased by a large dog, maybe a doberman; maybe a shepherd; maybe something bigger! we all agreed that whatever kind of dog it was it chased us all the way down the stairs before the barking stopped. only i was able to verify the visual aspect of the encounter, or lack thereof.

after a few minutes we left and took the shortest route back to west covina without stopping at gravity hill.

we returned to the house on several occasions. but we never went beyond the fence again.

i’ll leave that for somebody else!

happy halloween!

snoring to make friends and influence the neighbors

2007-10-14T21:11:00.000-07:00

i spent the weekend with helen keeping her awake with my snoring. sorry, helen: i hope you can get some sleep now that i’m not there.

she and i did a little caching around san jose and grabbed a couple of pies (one, a pizza, with sausage, onion, mushroom and pineapple; the other: peach, from marie callender’s, to bring home to ron).

after i got home i hid my first cache in over a year, the first since moving back to california. it is also the closest cache i have ever hidden to home, at about 250 feet from the front door. actually, i hid this cache a little over a year ago in carson city. it was designed by my friend kathy (kacky) in maine. it is a highly camouflaged little piece that looks like a wad of chewed gum. the cache container, itself, is only about the size of two watch batteries. yeah: it’s pretty small. in its original hiding spot, it was awarded micro cache of 2006 at january’s gbes 4^th birthday party.

i’ve been back on ebay doing a little purchasing over the past few weeks.

i received “swimming to cambodia” a couple of weeks ago, which i have already written about.

on friday, i received “my favorite year” starring one of my favorite actors: peter o’toole. helen and i watched it saturday before heading out to go caching. i was living in portland, maine the first time i watched this movie. my landlord came up from the basement to see what i was watching because i was laughing so hard.

when i got home, king crimson’s “eyes wide open” concerts dvd was awaiting me. i say “concerts” because it has performances from the “construKction of light” tour from 2000 and from the “power to believe” tour from 2003. i have watched the set several times when willy owned it. but, after he moved away to colorado (he’s now back in fallon living with mark and my dad) he took it with him.

the other dvd is still en route. it is “the big empty.” this movie is so original and unique i wish i had written it. it cannot be described without misdescribing it or telling the entire story. it is bizarre (but not too bizarre for your average-run-of-the-mill-movie-watcher), funny, sexy, suspenseful and takes place in the desert. what more could you ask for? rapidly becoming one of my favorite movies, it joins another of my faves which features bowling (“the big lewboski”); something i have not done for over 40-years and have very little interest in.

i got to see scott gahagen (of the former “scott and monty show”) last week. waj, the group of which ron is president, had an alternative fuel and propulsion exposition in south san francisco. scott, just in the last couple of weeks, moved back to san mateo from carson city. we needed a sound system for the featured speakers and scott does the portable dj thing for a living. so, we hired him to provide dinner music and mics for the speakers. it was the first time since the baboon killer bought kptl that ron, scott and i have worked together. it was nice seeing scott again and it’s way cool that he lives just up the road. he and terri and helen and i are supposed to do a double date sometime soon. maybe we can go to the winchester mystery house... if we can find the door.

except that the banana sticks to the wall

2007-09-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

last night, as i was finishing up the dinner dishes after i made tacos, ron asked if i’d like to join him on a ride over to pacific grove.

as we left, we took ocean road down to the 17-mile drive to catch the sun halfway down the horizon. there were no clouds to accentuate the scene, but it is always a great sight to see the sun set into pacific!

as we drove around lands end, on which p.g. sits, the rising full moon came into view!

and what a view it was!

it was hovering over north monterey and salinas beyond, its reflection shimmering across monterey bay as we made our way around the north side of the peninsula and down to cannery row.

it was such a lovely sight that we parked just above the marina and watched the last of the sailboats catch what little breeze they could in the gathering dusk.

as we watched the moon rise and the hills disappear in the dark, ron enlightened me on a story susie told him about an alleged shopping cult that is hitting all the upscale boutiques in northern california.

apparently, this cult is based out of norcal in some unknown thriving community near the oregon boarder.

i say thriving because: this so-called cult allegedly has no leader and the members just go from boutique to boutique trying to outspend the other. therefore, in order to spend the kind of money it would take to buy some of the merchandise in some of these shops (i was looking at a really lame yellow on yellow plaid – god, i hate plaid – sport coat hanging in susie’s shop with a $3500 price tag on it, wondering who would pay that kind of price, let alone wear the obnoxious thing), the cult members must be independently wealthy.

as spalding said in “swimming to cambodia”: “all of the stories i’m telling you tonight are true. ah, except for one. except that the banana sticks to the wall. that’s it; all the other’s are true!”

or, as ron would, and did say: “you think i make this shit up!”

i guess you have to know susie to really “get” this story.

a few weeks ago, ron and susie went out to eat at the spanish bay club, just around the corner from here. susie ordered chilean sea bass. ron informed susie that it is on the endangered species list. susie’s reply was: “but, it’s already dead so it o.k.”

her grandmother passed away a few months ago and susie inherited, among other things, a mink coat. she’s having it adjusted to fit her, which is going to require the furrier to add a couple of pelts to it. ron suggested that she not say anything about the additions, as there are so many p.e.t.a. members around here who would take exception to the act. susie’s reply: “these things are raised on ranches, so why should they care?”

you think i make this shit up, don’t you?

ron has rented a condominium-villa for late october in newport beach for him, susie, lulu and one of lulu’s mutant friends. susie is insisting that the shitsus go too. but, the villa doesn’t allow pets.

do you think that’s going to stop susie?

She says she’s going to smuggle them into the suite in her luggage, sneak them out and drive a few blocks away so they can “do their business” (certainly they’ll “hold it” out of respect of the villa, being the classy mutts that they are). nobody will hear them as they don’t bark (too much) and the maids won’t know they’re there because the dogs are so quiet (sure they are!) and won’t shit or pee on the floor like they do at the dollhouse because the only reason they shit and pee on the floor at the dollhouse is because the loganator won’t let them out to “do their business.”

right!

i can see that i’ll be running down there to bailout the piss-machines to bring them back up here so the loganator can dogsit between classes, football practice and watching the simpsons.

you think i make this shit up, don’t you?

speaking of the loganator: he’s off of the injured list and played in every offensive play last saturday in their game against solano, which the team won by a score of 54-34. the lobos have only lost one game this season and it looks like they’re on their way to another win as the team they’re playing this saturday is 0-4 for the season.

logan’s birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks. ron wants to get him a new suit. logan wants to go online with ron’s credit card so he can order more simpson action figures.

during the move to the dollhouse, logan used an entire roll of bubble-wrap to protect his simpson action figures; all unboxed for superior presentation as opposed to keeping them in the original boxes for collectable value.

you think i make this shit up, don’t you?

and just so you know: all of the above stories, except for the banana, were suggested blog material by ron!

bigger and smaller wildlife sightings for today

2007-09-25T20:32:00.000-07:00

it was another amazing day for mammalian sea creature encounters: within seconds of arriving at “our beach” for our morning meeting i noticed what looked like a spray of vapor about ¾ mile off shore. ron looked up in time to see the next spray; it was a pod of humpback whales.

they stayed between ¾ to 1-½ miles off shore, but it was another treat on back-to-back mornings that made for a great start to the day.

from that distance it was hard to tell how many of them were in the pod, but we guessed, by the distance between the spouts, that there were at least 4 of them; maybe more since they can hold their breath for great lengths of time.

i have been here for 3 months and yesterday was the first time we have seen dolphins from the beach and today was the first time we have seen whales. i did see whales a few weeks ago on the pose’s boat and ron has seen a whale come up close (100 ft.) to the beach as recently as last spring and has seen dolphins a few times, but it is the first visit while i was there to witness their appearances.

pacific grove, little more than a linear mile north of where i know sit is known as butterfly town, u.s.a. for the monarch butterflies that gather here each year to sit (fly) out winter. their migration brings them from alaska and canada to hang out around here in the milder temps.

i don’t know what it means for winter up north, but i saw my first monarch butterfly this afternoon.

pacific grove, also known as “america’s last hometown”, has an annual butterfly parade where the kids in town deck themselves out in butterfly regalia.

it must be quite a sight to see so many of the beautiful critters flying about; the butterflies not the children.

these are not leaves in the picture to the right; they are monarch butterflies that have gathered together in the monarch grove butterfly sanctuary.

and add to the wildlife encounters of the day: when i went out to get a case of water from my car i startled a black tail doe that was on our front porch. her adolescent youngster on the front yard stayed put while i walked within 15 feet of it; it’s big eyes not leaving me for a second.

dolphins yesterday; deer, butterflies and whales today; what’s left for tomorrow?

mermaids!

oh, the weather has been absolutely gorgeous with cool night for sleeping-bliss and highs near 80 with crystal-clear blue skies!