Where Glass Borders on Fantasy… The Work of Dale Chihuly

I had the feeling that this sculpture by Dale Chihuly, set off by a reflecting pool should be waving its tentacles.

I had the feeling that this sculpture by Dale Chihuly, set off by a reflecting pool, should be waving its tentacles. (This and the following photos are taken by Peggy Mekemson.)

When I closed my eyes and scrolled through my iPhoto collection to come up with today’s photo essay, I landed on a series of photos featuring Dale Chihuly’s imaginative glass sculptures.

It seems like Chihuly, the world’s most prolific creator of glass blown sculpture, is everywhere these days. His works are found worldwide. Peggy was in Tennessee with our daughter Natasha five years ago when a Chihuly exhibition was held at the Cheekwood Botanical Garden in Nashville. Fortunately, Peggy took lots of photos so I could enjoy the show as well. I found a flock of flamingos that Peggy captured on her camera at the botanical garden to be equally fascinating.

I thought of this creation as a fruit basket.

I thought of this creation as a fruit basket.

Chihuly is an expert at placing his work in natural settings.

Chihuly is an expert at designing his pieces to complement natural settings.

Another example how his work complements a natural setting.

Another example how his work complements a natural setting.

And how about this towering glass sculpture next to the tree?

And how about this towering glass sculpture next to a tall tree?

My grandson, who was two at the time, checks out one of Chihuly's sculptures. I wonder what was going through his mind?

My grandson, who was two at the time, checks out one of Chihuly’s sculptures. I wonder what was going through his mind?

A new take on a Zen garden?

A new take on a Zen garden?

I thought colorful garlic here.

These reminded me of colorful cloves of garlic.

These gracefull birdlike sculptures reminded me of Peggy's Flamingos.

These graceful birdlike sculptures with their interesting poses reminded me of Peggy’s Flamingos.

Flamingos can assume some interesting one legged positions but this one went above and beyond

Flamingos can assume some interesting one-legged positions but this one went above and beyond. Check out the shadow.

Another interesting pose.

Another interesting pose for both kids and adults.

A final contortion of Flamingos.

A final contortion of Flamingo parts.

I'll use this blue and green contrast by Chihuly to end this post. NEXT POST: On the way to He Grand Canyon and a two month break from blogging.

I’ll use this blue and green contrast by Chihuly to end this post. NEXT POST: A continuation of my Friday Essays. The Grand Canyon trip. Also, Friday marks the beginning of a two month break from blogging.

 

 

Escape from Alaska… Part II: The Friday Essay

Woodland buffalo have become fairly common when driving through portions of the Yukon Territory. As noted in my last Escape from Alaska blog, Peggy and I took these photos two years ago when we drove the Alaska Highway in the summer.

Woodland buffalo like this guy have become fairly common when driving through portions of the Yukon Territory. As noted in my last Alaska blog, Peggy and I took these photos two years ago when we drove the Alaska Highway in the summer.

The next day after my encounter with the Trooper (see here), I zipped down the Alaska Highway through the Yukon Territory to White Horse. With the exception of gigantic trucks on their way to the North Slope, I saw few other vehicles. Snow still covered the surrounding wilderness and the road was frozen solid. The annual migration of tourists traveling north was months away.

That night I chose to stay in a campground, preferring not to repeat my previous night’s experience. I also avoided wasting away in Margaritaville— instead I broke out the brownies.

As a going away present, some friends had given me a gallon Zip Lock bag of Alaska’s finest pot. At first sight, it might seem that they were involved in a criminal activity, but marijuana was legal in Alaska. You could grow your own and somebody had obviously grown a lot. Giving me the grass had been the Alaskan equivalent of sending me off with a bottle of 25-year-old single malt Scotch whiskey, or several bottles.

In honor of lung health, I promised not to smoke it. I practiced my baking techniques on my last night at my friend’s house. The cat, the two dogs and I tested the results. It was a mellow evening and the whole menagerie was allowed to sleep on the bed. We purred, wagged our tails, and had wild dreams.

Here’s some advice to the uninitiated that Alice B. Toklas didn’t provide: go easy on brownies. They have a way of sneaking up on you. The problem is physiological. Long before your body has done its job and processed the herb, you are thinking, ‘this stuff has absolutely zero impact, I should have stuck with wine.’ So you eat another brownie, and then another. By the time you realize the error of your ways, it’s too late and you are wacko.

Luckily, I had already been there, done that. I ate a small piece and waited patiently. Then I broke out an ounce of Swiss cheese. I was all moderation. Marijuana enhances flavor and encourages gluttony. I once watched a woman down a quart of ice cream in one sitting and demand more.

A friend had slipped me a fat letter to read on the way. I opened it as an option to eating the other 15 ounces of cheese. She had offered to pinch hit if my other Alaska relationship didn’t work out.

“We can run off to Mexico and open an orphanage for homeless children, Curt,” she had suggested. She was serious about the orphanage. It was a dream of hers. It made the suggestion of my staying home, writing, and raising one or two kids look like a ride on a merry-go-round. I had declined her generous proposal. The gist of the letter was that the offer was still open.

Sights along the the Alaska Highway include towering mountains...

Sights along the Alaska Highway include towering mountains…

Wild rivers...

Wild rivers…

Reflecting lakes...

Reflecting lakes…

And Dall Sheep...

And Dall Sheep…

Including this ram...

Including this ram…

And this curious kid.

And this curious kid.

Five days later I drove into Sacramento. The grass was green and flowers were blooming even though a major flood had threatened the region in February. I planned on spending a few days visiting my father and some friends before taking off for the woods. As part of my itinerary I stopped by to see Jane Hagedorn at the Sacramento Lung Association. Jane is a fierce friend. Every time I had tried to escape, she had reeled me back in, frustrating my desire to become a happy wanderer by making me offers I couldn’t refuse.

I found my green grass in Sacramento.

I found my green grass in Sacramento.

And California Poppies, plus two job offers.

And California Poppies— plus two job offers.

“You will come back to Sacramento and work for Lung when you are done playing,” she informed me and then dangled the Trek Program in front of me for bait. As I usually do, I tentatively agreed. It’s not wise to cross Jane. As I was leaving the Lung Building, I ran into Jerry Meral, the Executive Director of the Planning and Conservation League of California. Along with the Sierra Club, PCL is the main lobbying group for environmental groups in California.

“Curt,” Jerry said with his always-high level of enthusiasm, “I have a job for you.”

“I’m not looking for a job, Jerry,” had been my reply. “I am going backpacking for six months.”

Jerry, who is even worse than Jane at taking no for an answer, continued on, “But this job is perfect for you. I want you to work on raising California’s tobacco tax by five cents so we can use the money for buying parks.” I knew that Jerry and his crew at PCL had successfully done more at raising money for parks than anyone else in California and probably the world. If Jerry was behind the concept, it was legitimate.

“Interesting Jerry, but I am going backpacking.” I figured that took care of it.

“OK and have fun,” said Jerry, “but see me as soon as you get back.”

I half nodded my head in agreement. So here I was, desperate to free myself from any major commitments, and already agreeing to think about taking on two significant tasks— one that was monumental. But they could wait. The next day, I was on my way to the Grand Canyon. And who knew what I would be doing in six months.

NEXT BLOG: The wilderness cure begins. It’s off to backpack the Grand Canyon via Death Valley and Las Vegas.

 

Santorini Potpourri… The Amusing and the Picturesque

Peggy caught this photo of an old Santorini windmill that I found quite stunning. We found similar windmills won other Greek islands.

Peggy caught this photo of an old Santorini windmill that I found quite striking outlined against the horizon. The blue striped flag belongs to Greece.

Wrapping up my Wednesday photo essays on Santorini, I thought I would go for a potpourri of things that either amused Peggy and me, or that we found interesting and picturesque. Enjoy. Next Wednesday I will randomly pick another selection from my collection of 20,000 iPhotos. Who knows where we will land…

We found this dog admiring the Aegean Sea while perched on a rock. In our travels through the Mediterranean we often found cats and occasionally dogs that seemed owner free or at least wandered at will.

We found this dog admiring the Aegean Sea while perched on the end of a rock. In our travels through the Mediterranean we often found cats and occasionally dogs that seemed owner free or at least wandered at will.

He and I shared a common perspective on the value of an afternoon nap.

He and I shared a common perspective on the value of an afternoon nap.

For get modern excavation equipment when it comes to building on the sides of the volcano. How are you going to get a back hoe and dump trucks down a narrow star way?

Forget modern excavation equipment when it comes to building on the sides of the volcano. How are you going to get a backhoe and dump trucks down a narrow stairway? Dirt and rock dug out of the mountainside has to be bagged up and shipped out another way.

By mules.

By mules. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

You quickly lean red you had to get out of the way or get stepped on. There was no posing for photos by these heavily laden mules.

You quickly learned that  you had to get out of the way or get stepped on. There was no posing for photos by these heavily laden mules.

There were numerous small walkways to explore. During the height of tourist season these walkways would be packed with people.

There were numerous small walkways to explore. During the height of tourist season these walkways would be packed with people.

Several of the people who follow my blog like murals. This one is for you. I really liked the way its tentacles wrapped around the door.

Several of the people who follow my blog like murals. This one is for you. I really liked the way its tentacles wrapped around the door.

I am sure you've all had the experience of slow food. (grin) This restaurant apparently made an art out of it. And how could you complain. You had been warned.

We’ve  all had the experience of food that takes forever to be delivered. (grin) This restaurant apparently made an art out of it.

Peggy has wild, naturally curly head, that has a mind of its own. It seemed to me in this photo that it was attacking her head.

Peggy has wonderfully wild, naturally curly hair, that has a mind of its own. It seemed to me in this photo that it was attacking her head. I kept my distance.

This amusing sculpture was propped up against the wall. I don't think this guy was a fireman or that he had rescue on his mind.

This amusing sculpture was propped up against the wall. I don’t think this guy was a fireman or that he had rescue on his mind.

Normally I avoid tourist souvenirs, and I did this time. I did think these plates and vases did a good job of representing the color of Santorini.

Normally I avoid tourist souvenirs, and I did this time. These plates and vases did do a good job of capturing the colors of Santorini, however.

Green plant

Speaking of color, this green was vivid.

The flowers were also colorful, including this bougainvillea.

As was the pinkish red of these Bougainvillea.

Certainly one would expect to find mermaids lulling around on the rocks off of Santorini. The bougainvillea  made a nice frame.

Certainly one would expect to find mermaids lulling around on the rocks off of Santorini. The Bougainvillea provided a colorful  frame.

 

I really like painted doors.

I was impressed with this blue door.

Lots of blue doors.

And found lots more like it. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

And then we found a door to nowhere.

And then we found a green door to nowhere.

As we sailed away at sunset, we caught a final view of Santorini.

As we sailed away at sunset, we caught a final view of Santorini’s towns perched up on the high cliffs.

 

 

 

The Striking Churches of Oia, Santorini…

It is a combination of the blue domes, unique architecture, magnificent setting and Mediterranean light that make the many churches in Oia so outstanding. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

It is a combination of the blue domes, unique architecture, magnificent setting and Mediterranean light that make the many churches in Oia so outstanding. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I’ve blogged about the churches on Santorini before, but their beauty, surroundings, and unique architecture are such that they are worth revisiting— often. Most of these photos are from the village of Oia and the surrounding area that contains some 70 churches.

The obvious question here is ‘Why so many?’ One or two large churches could easily accommodate the population, especially since the majority of the population is Greek Orthodox. The answer lies in the fact that Oia is a fishing village and the life of a fisherman is filled with danger.

When things become iffy, religious folks, and even not so religious folks start talking to God and making promises. “Get me through this and I’ll do so and so…” There is a long list of options. In Oia, for those who could afford it, the offering became “I’ll build you a church.”

To make things a little more personal, the fishermen dedicated their churches to whatever saints they thought were looking out for them. The saint was their go-to guy (or gal), their direct line to God. And even today, the feast day of the saint is a big thing at the various chapels.

One final note: many of the churches are privately owned, passed down within a family for generations from the original builder.

Another photo of the same church that I took. This one from a different angle. A separate post could easily be made on each church in Oia.

Another photo of the same church. I took this one from a different angle. A separate post could easily be made on each church in Oia.

The Church of St. George, set off by dramatic clouds occupied my camera for 30 minutes.

The Church of St. George, set off by dramatic clouds, occupied my camera for 30 minutes.Lightning rods also adorn the church.

Moving back, this arch provided a fun composition for the church. I suspect it has been used for the same purpose thousands of times. (grin)

Moving back, this arch provided a fun composition for the church. I suspect it has been used for the same purpose thousands of times. (grin)

A side view of the church.

A side view of the church.

A view of the dome...

A view of the dome…

And the bell tower. The walls seemed to be glowing.

And the bell tower. The walls seemed to be glowing.

Many of the churches are smaller and more personal, built by families as thanks for surviving sea journeys and passed down to family members over generations.

Many of the churches are smaller and more personal, built by families as thanks for surviving sea journeys and passed down to family members over generations. Love the salmon pink.

I always appreciate it when nature provides a convenient frame for my photos.

I always appreciate it when nature provides a convenient frame for my photos.

Think of the imagination that went into the decision to put white rocks in front of this white church.

Think of the imagination that went into the decision to put white rocks in front of this white church.

A back view of the church with Oia, Santorini stretching out in front.

A back view of the church with Oia, Santorini stretching out in front.

This looked like a very old church to me. Notice how it is built into the cliff. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

This looked like a very old church to me. Notice how it is built into the cliff. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The Anastasis Church in Oia provides a striking view of the Aegean Sea.

The Anastasis Church in Oia provides a striking view of the Aegean Sea.

Another view of the church.

Another view of the church.

The Church of Panagia Platsani is the first church we encountered in Oia. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The Church of Panagia Platsani is the first church we encountered in Oia. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The church's bell tower. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

The church’s bell tower. Again, the sky provided a dramatic backdrop. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

I don't have the name for this church but thought it was quite striking.

I don’t have the name for this church but thought it was quite striking.

A final view looking out into the Aegean and the walls of the caldera that forms Santorini, a solemn reminder that this is earthquake country. NEXT BLOG: Friday's essay— Escape from Alaska

A final view looking out into the Aegean and the walls of the ancient volcano that form Santorini, a solemn reminder that this is earthquake country. NEXT BLOG: Friday’s essay— Escape from Alaska

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to Buncom… At Home in Oregon

You never know who or what might show up for the parade, but everybody is invited to participate. No entry form required.

You never know who or what might show up for the Buncom Day parade, but everybody is invited to participate. No entry form is required. Just step out in the road. I thought the peace sign was a nice addition.

Normally there are more ghosts than people hanging out in the Buncom. All it takes is three flickering apparitions. The situation changes dramatically on Buncom Day in late May when the annual Buncom Day Parade takes place and the town’s population soars to 500. I’ve now been three times. If I am not off gallivanting, I’ll be there again next year. Guaranteed.

Where else could I step onto the street and become part of a parade, buy a scrumptious pulled pork sandwich from the local Lion’s Club, or bet a buck on where a pullet is going to poop?

But there was more this year— I had responsibility. The Friends of Ruch Library (FORL) was having a book sale and my wife Peggy has become president of the organization. Being First Man meant I had duties, heavy duties like carrying boxes and tables. Brawn, not brains, was what Peggy required (that, and our pickup truck).

Peggy and fellow board members staffed the Friends of the Ruch Library book sale. One of Ruch's three buildings, the long abandoned Post Office was their venue.

Peggy and fellow volunteers from Friends of the Ruch Library staffed the book sale. One of Ruch’s three buildings, the long abandoned Post Office, was their venue.

Inside books were neatly arranged on the tables I had delivered. Check out the prices!

Inside books were neatly arranged on the tables I had delivered. Check out the prices! Paperbacks were going at five for a dollar, current hardbacks for a dollar fifty.

For the uninitiated, Buncom is located in the Applegate Valley of southern Oregon about 20 miles west of Medford. It was a booming gold rush town during the 1850s and later became a regional supply center. But that all ended with the advent of the automobile, or horseless carriage as it would have been known then. All that remains today are three vacant buildings, and, of course, the ghosts.

BTW, it’s weed-whacking time here at the ranch. Each day I march forth bravely with my weed-whacker. This morning Peggy gave me a bright pink water bottle to carry.

“So it won’t get lost,” she said. It sounds so much better than, “So you won’t lose it.” We’ve learned to blame inanimate objects rather than each other when things disappear. Keys hide and glasses mysteriously show up when they are ready to show up. But back to the pink bottle…

“But people will think I’m a princess,” I complained. I won’t report Peggy’s response.

Mini-VW Van had it's adult equivalent, painted exactly the same. And yes the 200 yard parade goes in both directions.

Mini-VW Van had its adult equivalent, painted exactly the same. Maybe it’s Mom. And, yes, the 200 yard parade goes in both directions.

Horses used to help harvest timber.

Whoa, horsey. You can hire horses to help you harvest timber on your property. Or enter them in a parade.

You saw horsey going. Here it is coming, looking rather proud, I might add.

You saw horsey going. Here it is coming, looking rather proud, I might add.

The parade is also a good excuse to walk your dog, and show off your orange hair.

The parade is also a good excuse to walk your dog, and show off your red hair. Small horses bring up the rear.

There was even a white mule that carried a sign urging people to take a hike.

There was a white mule with freckles that carried a sign urging people to take a hike.

Daughters of the American Revolution participating in a southern Oregon parade.

Even the DAR  had a representative, this one from the Latgwa Chapter. With her lacy black umbrella, I thought she would  fit right into a Mardi Gras celebration.

Every parade needs a Grand Marshall. She even carried a handmade sign announcing who she was. A writer for the Medford Tribune was along for the ride.

Every parade needs a Grand Marshal. Peggy Dover filled the position. Sitting on the right and carrying a handmade sign announcing her name, Peggy is a writer for the Medford Tribune.

Old cars galore participate in the parade. This caddy featured a panda.

Old cars galore participate in the parade. This caddy featured a panda who waved at me as the car drove by. Or maybe he was trying to escape.

When the old cars weren't parading, they were parked for one and all to admire. There is a class to these cars that their modern equivalents just can't seem to match. Or am i just showing my age?

When the old cars weren’t parading, they were parked for one and all to admire. There is a class to these cars that their modern equivalents just can’t seem to match.

Here's a side view of the REO Hotrod which would have been produced in Lansing Michigan.

Here’s a side view of the REO Hotrod, which would have been produced in Lansing Michigan.

And check out this beauty. To my auto hobbyist friends… is this a Model A or a Model T?

And check out this beauty. I believe it is a Model A, but I am sure my internet friend who are old car enthusiasts will correct me if I am wrong. (grin)

This guy could decorate my yard anytime, if I didn't have to do the work that went along with it. These antique autos are truly labors of love.

This guy could decorate my yard anytime, if I didn’t have to do the work that comes with it. These antique autos are truly labors of love.

In case you are wondering, Buncom is out in the country. You know you are 'out West' when you see the barbed wire.

If you needed a break from the Buncom Day festivities, all you needed to do was glance at the surrounding countryside. The barbed wire says that you are ‘Out West.’

Or stop and smell the wild roses...

Or stop and smell the wild roses…

Last year I featured the Chicken Splat contest on my post about Buncom Day, so I will close with it this year. Numbered squares are placed in the bottom of the chicken cage. You bet on which square the chicken will poop on. NEXT BLOG: Back to Santorini.

Last year I featured the Chicken Splat contest on my post about Buncom Day, so I will close with it this year. Numbered squares are placed in the bottom of the chicken cage. You bet on which square the chicken will poop on. High stake’s gambling, it isn’t. NEXT BLOG: Back to Santorini.

 

 

Quirky Berkeley— I Return to My Roots

 

Sproul Hall

Sproul Hall, the administrative center of UC Berkeley, looks imposing. It comes with a welcome sign now but it wasn’t so welcoming when I gave a speech while standing on the Dean’s desk at the height of the Free Speech Movement in 1964.

Last week went on forever. By Sunday, the events at the beginning of the week seemed like ancient history. Maybe that’s not a bad thing; time slowed down. Lately it’s been zipping by like a hummingbird on sugar-water. Zoooooooom!

I began my week by being a guest lecturer in a writing class at Southern Oregon University where I talked about changes in the publishing industry. Mainly I discussed how authors are now responsible for marketing their own books. Grump. It is not my favorite activity. “Go start a blog,” I urged, “at least you can have fun. And it is great writing practice.”

Thursday found me keynoting an author’s day at a local community school. I had jumped from talking with seniors in college to kids. And how in the heck do you tailor a talk for a group with an age range from 7-14? Tell stories, I decided— and started with the tale from The Bush Devil Ate Sam about Rasputin the Cat and the Cockle Doodle Rooster. Afterwards I taught classes of fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth graders. My message was that we are all storytellers.

It was fun. The eight-hour drive to Berkeley immediately afterward wasn’t.

I drove down to attend a national conference of Returned Peace Corps Volunteers. I was one pooped pup when I arrived. It was lights out for Curt. I hardly even needed my noisemaker to drown out the clamor on University Avenue.

Berkeley is many things, among them a world renown center of education.

Speaking of tired puppies, I found these hemp collars and leashes on Telegraph Avenue. In addition to being home to one of the world’s greatest educational institutions, Berkeley can be a bit quirky.

I went to the conference to participate in some workshops relating to Peace Corps writers, of which there are legions. I also wanted to hear presentations by Congressman Sam Farr and Peace Corps Director Carrie Hessler-Radelet. Sam had been a Peace Corps Volunteer in South America in the 60s and, like me, worked in Peace Corps recruiting afterwards. He is known as “Mr. Peace Corps” in Congress for the strong advocacy role he plays for the organization.

He argued that Returned Peace Corps Volunteers also needed to become advocates. It’s budget time in Washington, and there are a lot more countries requesting Peace Corps Volunteers, and people who want to be Volunteers, than Peace Corps has money to fund. As usual, the money goes elsewhere. For example, we are spending a billion and a half dollars this year to keep Egypt happy— four times the total budget of Peace Corps.

On the good news side of the equation, Carrie announced that Peace Corps Volunteers would be back in Liberia this week. As you may recall, they were pulled out in the fall because of Ebola. Carrie also mentioned a major new initiative that Peace Corps is working on with Michelle Obama, Let Girls Learn. It is a worldwide effort to provide girls with the same education opportunities boys now have.

Michelle

We listened to a pre-recorded message on Let Girls Learn from Michelle Obama in Wheeler Auditorium, which was the site of my first class at Berkeley. I had walked right by the classroom, incapable of imagining that there would be over a thousand students in the class. Berkeley gave me a new understanding of mass education.

I must confess— I also had an ulterior motive for the trip. Any journey to Berkeley is a trip into the past for me. I think of it as a pilgrimage, a return to my roots. I still hear echoes from the 60s when I was caught up in Berkley’s Free Speech Movement. This time the echoes were real. A resounding expletive caught my attention. I turned around to see Cliff Marks descending on me. Cliff and I had shared an apartment during out senior year and Cliff had also served in the Peace Corps. The last time I had seen or talked with him was at his wedding in 1969. We had a grand time catching up. Now it is time to catch up on the blogs I have missed this past week and a half.

But first, let’s go on a tour of Berkeley.

Sather Gate

Every student who has ever been to Berkeley passes through Sather Gate…

Campanile

And at some point, stops to admire the Campanile, which is Berkeley’s best known landmark.

Bay Bridge

The campus looks out over San Francisco Bay. The Golden Gate Bridge can be seen in the distance.

Steps of library

I had spent the day buried in the Bancroft Library and surfaced for a break when I found a young woman crying on these steps. The campus was deathly quiet. “What’s the problem?” I had asked. “They’ve shot the President,” she told me in a broken voice. It was November 23, 1963 and President Kennedy had been killed, shot down in the streets of Dallas.

Sproul Plaza

Sproul Plaza was a major location for student protests in the 60s. This entrance to the campus, at the intersection of Telegraph Avenue and Bancroft Avenue, was the location of Berkeley’s Free Speech Area that the University arbitrarily closed down in the fall of 1964, thus leading to the beginning of the Free Speech Movement.

Ludwig's fountain

The Student Union and Ludwig’s Fountain are under renovation. Ludwig was a 60’s type dog who wandered wherever he chose. He came down from his house on the hill daily and frolicked in the fountain that would eventually bear his name. I petted Ludwig and watched as a police car was taken hostage and then used as a speaker’s podium. Jack Weinberg, a Civil Rights organizer, was being held in the car. It was Jack, now 75, who coined the phrase, “never trust anyone over 30.”

Cafe Mediterraneum

I learned as much outside of the classrooms as I did inside at Berkeley. The Cafe Mediterraneum on Telegraph Avenue was my main hangout. It was one of America’s first European style Coffee Houses in the 1950s and proudly claims to be the creator of the caffe latte.

Moe's

One of my primary forms of entertainment in the 60s at Berkeley was perusing bookstores. It still is today when I visit the city. Moe’s was and is one of the greats. Sadly, my favorite, Cody’s, is now closed.

Amoeba Records

Amoeba Records is next to the Cafe Meditteraneum. Street booths, like those in front on the left, have become a permanent  fixture along Telegraph Avenue.

Crystals on Telegraph

As one might expect, many of the items for sale have a New Age connection, such as these ‘healing’ quartz crystals.

Dream Catchers

And these dream catchers.

People's Park

“If it takes a bloodbath, let’s get it over with.” –Ronald Reagan’s response as Governor of California to students who were protesting his closing down Berkeley’s People’s Park as a community garden in the late 60s. National Guard troops were sent in and local police were armed with shotguns loaded with buckshot. One student, apparently a bystander, was killed and another was blinded. The whole city was tear gassed from the air.

Tree sign

A sign thanking trees that live in the park today.

Mural

A mural on the side of the Amoeba record store depicts events surrounding People’s Park as well as other Telegraph Avenue happenings.

Mural

The mural.

Pan Handler

Berkeley has always been a mecca for young people,  both those seeking an alternative lifestyle as well as those seeking a first class education. Many who came looking for alternatives arrived without money, as this young man shown in the mural.

Homeless

Today, Berkeley is the ‘home’ for numerous homeless people. I took this photo on Dwinelle Plaza on campus.

Street Spirit

This homeless man was selling the newspaper “Streetsmart” in front of Moe’s Bookstore. Headlines announced a recent protest that the community’s religious leaders including Christian, Muslim, Jewish and Buddhist representatives had made against the city’s efforts to criminalize homelessness as a means of driving homeless people out of town.

Berkeley sign board

A sign of the times? Not really. Berkeley’s sign boards have always been plastered with notices on top of notices. I was amused to find help wanted notices for Berkeley’s Call Center. I hear from these young people several times a year as they solicit money for Berkeley. I found it interesting that the University, who charges them $14,000 a year in tuition ($38,000 if out-of-state), only pays these kids $11 per hour.

South Hall

South Hall, built in 1873, is the oldest building on the UC Berkeley Campus. It’s an appropriate photo to end this post, and also to raise a question about the future of public education in America. Tuition was free when I went to Berkeley and I was able to pay for my living costs by driving a laundry truck in the summer. I graduated debt-free. Today’s young people graduate with hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt. It’s close to tragic. All I can think of is how incredibly stupid our state and national leaders are when the future of our nation, and indeed the world, depends upon an educated and knowledgeable population. Germany can somehow find the money to provide a free college education. Why not America?

 

 

 

 

 

Santorini: A Photographer’s Paradise… The Wednesday Photo Essay

Perched on the remaining wall of an ancient volcano, the Greek town of Oia overlooks the Aegean Sea.

Perched on the remaining wall of an ancient volcano, the Greek town of Oia, Santorini overlooks the Aegean Sea.

 

Once again, it’s time for my Wednesday photo essay. This time my random search through iPhoto landed on Santorini. And that got me excited. It is one of the most photogenic places on earth. Almost any photo you take has postcard (or blog) potential. This post allowed me to revisit the island and once more enjoy its beauty. My challenge, I immediately discovered, was that Peggy and I had taken 400 plus photos. “Okay, Curt,” I said to me, “I have to do more than one blog.” So expect to find Santorini on my next 3 or 4 Wednesday posts. I think you will enjoy the journey.

 

The town of Oia overlooks the caldera of what was once a volcano and is now filled with the Aegean Sea.

The town of Oia cascades down the inner slope of a volcano toward the caldera that was left behind when the volcano exploded. The wall of the volcano recedes off into the distance. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Some basics: Santorini is a Greek island located in the Aegean Sea, 120 miles (200 kilometers) southeast of the Greek mainland. Once upon a time it was a huge volcano. 2600 years ago it blew its top in a dramatic fashion, destroying much of the Minoan Civilization and giving rise to the myth of Atlantis. All that remains is a large caldera filled with seawater and the weathered edge of what was once the volcano’s wall. Lime-white homes dug into the sides of the cliff perch high above the water and cascade down the mountainside, providing great views of the sea below.

This photo provides a perspective on how high the small communities of Santorini perch above the water. The layers represent different volcano flows that took place before the volcano erupted creating one of the largest explosions in written history.

This photo provides a perspective on how high the small communities of Santorini perch above the water. The layers represent different volcanic flows that took place before the volcano erupted, creating one of the largest explosions in written history. I took this photo from our ship as the sun was setting.

Homes are actually built into the volcanic cliff as this photo illustrates. The added insulation means the houses are cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

Homes are actually built into the volcanic cliff as this photo illustrates. The added insulation means the houses are cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

Forget elevators, escalators, or roads. You get to and from your home, motel, etc. by walking up and down stairs.

Forget elevators, escalators, or roads. You get to and from your home, hotel, etc. by walking up and down stairs.

Stairways that come in a variety of shapes, sizes...

Stairways that come in a variety of shapes, sizes…

…and colors.

…and colors.

And lead to intriguing places such as this...

And lead to oh so many intriguing places such as this… (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

…leading to oh so many intriguing places.

…and this.

Most homes come with attractive patios, great for sitting out on an admiring a beautiful sunset, or...

Many homes come with attractive patios.

Your patio is your yard, and there isn't much space.

Your patio is your yard, but there isn’t much space.

There is always room for laundry, but for get privacy. What you do on your patio is defined as entertainment by your neighbors above you.

There is always room for laundry, but forget privacy. What you do on your patio is defined as entertainment by your neighbors above you.

When you live on the wall of a volcano, space is limited.

Every view of Oia, Santorini is different, and beautiful.

I really like the whites, pastels and bright blues of Oia. The blue dome is part of a church. NEXT BLOG: How 25 cents saved one million lives.

I really like the whites, pastels and bright blues of Oia. The blue dome is part of a church. NEXT BLOG: How 25 cents saved one million lives. (More on Santorini next Wednesday.)

 

 

Bruneau Dunes State Park, Idaho… The Wednesday Photo Essay

Peggy and I discovered Bruneau Dunes State Park after we had been up in Central Idaho admiring the Sawtooth Mountains.

Peggy and I discovered Bruneau Dunes State Park after we had been up in Central Idaho admiring the Sawtooth Mountains.

It’s Wednesday. That means I let my fingers do the walking down through my 20,000 pictures to come up with today’s photo essay. I closed my eyes, scrolled down through iPhoto, and randomly stopped.

I landed on Bruneau Dunes State Park in southwestern Idaho. It’s a gem. Driving south on Idaho 51 heading toward Elko, Nevada, Peggy and I found the park pretty much the same way I found it on iPhoto— randomly. This 4800 acre state park features sand dunes and a small lake that gives the area an oasis feel. It’s noted for having the tallest single-structured sand dune in North America— 470 feet above the surrounding desert. (Photos by Curtis and Peggy Mekemson.)

Peggy and I had been up in central Idaho admiring the Sawtooth Mountains and were on our way to Nevada when we found Breneau Dunes State Park.

Peggy and I had been up in central Idaho admiring the Sawtooth Mountains and were on our way to Nevada when we found Bruneau Dunes State Park.

The small lake backed up by the 470 high Dune gives the area an oasis feel.

The small lake backed up by the 470 high dune gives the area an oasis feel.

Moving around the lake provided different perspectives on the dune.

Moving around the lake provided different perspectives on the dune.

This view provided a reflection of the dune.

This view provided a reflection.

A view of the lake.

A view focused on the lake.

Having hiked around to the opposite side the lake, we were rewarded with a view of the dune.

Having hiked to the opposite side of the lake, we were rewarded with a closer view of the dune.

And lots of animal tracks.

And lots of animal tracks. Coyote possibly.

Bird tracks

Bird tracks

Your guess. I am thinking sidewinder rattlesnake.

Your guess. I am thinking sidewinder rattlesnake.

Later in the day, the dunes took on an almost purple tint as the sun went down.

Later in the day, the dunes took on an almost purple tint as the sun went down.

I liked the sage and other shrubs in this photo.

I liked the sage and other shrubs in this photo caught in the glow of the late afternoon sun.

The sun was almost down.

The sun was almost down.

Good night.

Good night.

We Visited Jackson, California and Bought a Giraffe. Help!

Peggy fell in love with this balsa wood giraffe we found in Jackson, California. So the giraffe came home with us. Little did we think it would have a taste for petunias.

Peggy fell in love with this balsa wood giraffe we found in Jackson, California. So the giraffe came home with us. Little did we think it would have a taste for petunias.

And here I thought our deer herd with its greedy appetite was bad. At least they couldn’t reach our hanging plants. It may be our imagination, but it seems that the wooden giraffe we bought in Jackson, California is poaching on Peggy’s petunias! We pretended to drive up the road and then I snuck back with the camera to see what the long-necked marauder was up to.

Aha! He was eating Peggy's petunias.

Aha! He was eating Peggy’s hanging petunias that the deer couldn’t reach.

Aha! He was eating petunias.

I caught the culprit purple lipped.

And apparently he was helping himself to all of our other hanging plants.

And apparently he was helping himself to all of our other hanging plants.

He was as much a glutton as the deer were.

He was as much a glutton as the deer were.

There was no stopping him!

There was no stopping him!

I confronted the giraffe with the photos. “I was not eating Peggy’s potted posies,” the giraffe replied indignantly. “I was sniffing them.” Yeah, right.

Jackson, California is an old gold rush town located on Historic Route 49 in the California foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. It’s about 30 miles away from where I was raised in another old gold rush town, Diamond Springs. Highway 49, with its logging trucks and cattle drives, fronted our property. Jackson was a long ways off. I’ve driven back and forth across the country a lot more times that our family visited Jackson when I was growing up— seriously.

We also found other wonderful creatures in Jackson on our March visit including a frog, a Hindu monkey king, a topless hula dancer, and a wildebeest. Fortunately we didn’t bring any of them home even though I lobbied for the hula dancer.

I like frogs. And let me assure you, they can get their mouths open this wide when going after tasty morsels such as flies.

We found this marvelous frog at the same shop we found the giraffe, Richard and Sherry’s Collectables.   Were you ever told by your mother, “close your mouth or you’ll catch a fly.” Now you know where that come from.

I was also impressed with this monkey king with his pet snake.

I was also impressed with this Monkey King with his pet snake. I assume he is Hanuman from the Ramayana.

I remembered this, um, hula princess and her surf board from another visit to Jackson. She hangs out, so to speak, on main street and is kind of hard to forget.

I remembered this, um, hula princess and her surf board from another visit to Jackson. She hangs out, so to speak, on main street and is kind of hard to forget.

Wilbur the Wildebeest lives in the Book Store.

Wilbur the Wildebeest lives in a book store.

Apparently he has lived there a while.

Apparently he has lived there a while.

Wilbur the Wildebeest lived in the Hein and Company Bookstore along with a cat, strange masks, columns of books, and a number of other unusual items. It may be the most interesting used bookstore I’ve ever been in. Be sure to put it on your itinerary if you visit Jackson.

In addition to Wilbur, the Hein and Co Bookstore in Jackson is packed full of used books and

In addition to Wilbur, the Hein and Co Bookstore in Jackson is packed full of used books and numerous unusual/interesting items. Or do I mean weird?

Such as this. Need a gage for anything?

Such as this en-gage-ing collection

Who knows what you might find around the next corner?

Who knows what you might find around the next corner?

Certainly made me want to go upstairs and check out books...

Certainly made me want to go upstairs and check out books…

Where we found a virtual maze of book shelves and long corridors with mysterious doors and signs.

Where we found a virtual maze of book shelves and long corridors with mysterious doors and signs. I couldn’t resist walking down to the door to read the sign.

And found the end. Wouldn't you be slightly tempted to open the door and meet kitty?

And found the end. Wouldn’t you be slightly tempted to open the door and meet kitty?

Kitty?

Kitty?

No, this was kitty. Most good bookstores have one.

No, this was kitty. Many good bookstores have one.

Our visit to the town also included a walk up and down the main street and dinner at the National Hotel, which also dates back to gold rush times. Ladies of the evening made liberal use of the hotel in its early days. They say you can still hear their ghosts giggling at night. Black Bart, the infamous gentleman bandit who robbed stages on foot (he hated horses) and occasionally left behind a poem, reputedly stayed here. As did Mark Twain, Chester Garfield, Herbert Hoover, and John Wayne. Wayne lost $43,000 in a 1933 game of poker at the hotel. His check bounced and the local sheriff hunted him down and made him pay in cash.

A look up main street, jackson.

A look up main street, Jackson.

The community has done a great job of renovating and maintaining its historic buildings.

The community has done a great job of renovating and maintaining its historic buildings.

The National Hotel that has entertained every one from US Presidents, to outlaws, to movie stars— and possibly ghosts.

The National Hotel that has entertained every one from US Presidents, to outlaws, to movie stars— and possibly ghosts.

We finished off our visit to the Jackson area by checking out several local wineries. I was looking for wine to feature at my book-signing event in Sacramento. By the end of the day, they all tasted pretty good. And no, I wasn’t driving.

Grapevines. Amador County has become an important wine producing area.

Grapevines. Amador County has become an important wine-producing area.

We visited several wineries looking for wine to use at my book-signing in Sacramento.

We visited several wineries looking for wine to use at my book-signing in Sacramento.

I thought my fellow bloggers who are into farming would appreciate this sign.

I thought my fellow bloggers who are into farming would appreciate this sign.

I'll conclude with a final photo of the giraffe munching flowers. Guilty.

I’ll conclude with a final photo of the giraffe munching flowers. Guilty.

Out of 20,000 Photos… Newspaper Rock— a petroglyph wonderland!

Newspaper Rock. I am standing beside the National Historic Site to provide perspective. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

Newspaper Rock. I am standing beside the National Historic Site to provide perspective. (Photo by Peggy Mekemson.)

It’s Wednesday, so that means a quick photographic essay, selected from my 20,000 pictures. It would be ever so easy to spend a day selecting photos, which would seriously detract from my objective of freeing up time. So I decided to do random. I closed my eyes and scrolled down iPhoto. When I hit enter, I opened my eyes, and there was Newspaper Rock, staring at me.

Newspaper Rock National Historic Site in Utah.

Over 2000 years of Native American petroglyphs are found on Newspaper Rock.

Newspaper Rock sits on the edge of Canyonlands National Park up in the northeastern corner of Utah. It contains all of the news that’s fit to print, or at least all the news from the perspective of local Native Americans who have chipped  away at the rock for over  2,000-years. Who knows what it all means. As the information sign says, “We do not know if the figures represent story telling, doodling, hunting magic, clan symbols, ancient graffiti or something else.” That means the figures are open to interpretation, right? So interpret, I will.

Food has been sighted. What’s on today’s menu?

Two flying squirrels were seen leaping between Ponderosa Pines.

Two flying squirrels were seen leaping between Ponderosa Pines.

Buffalo at Nrewspaper Rock National Historic Site in Utah.

A large buffalo is down at the wallow.

Elk are up on the ridge.

Three elk are up on the ridge.

Big horned sheep are feeding up on the ridge.

A Big Horned Sheep with scrawny front legs is feeding up on the mountain.

And Big Bird is down at the pond.

And Big Bird is down at the pond. (Nothing scrawny about her legs.)

Newspaper Rock National Historic Site.

Stay out of the canyon. The tracks of Momma Bear and her cub have been sighted.

Hop on your horse and grab your bow and arrows. It’s time to get dinner.

Petroglyph of Native American with bow on horse at Newspaper Rock near Canyonlands National Park.

Ready for the hunt.

Whoops.

Whoops.

Having been warned, Walks on Feet went into the canyon anyway. Now he is being stalked by Momma Bear.

Having been warned, Walks on Feet hiked into the canyon anyway. Now he is being stalked by Momma Bear. The trail ends here.

Success! Always Gets His Buck shoots elk in butt.

Success! Always Gets His Buck shoots an elk in the butt.

It’s time for a feast. All the cool guys will be there.

Wild hat.

Scorpion Hat shakes a leg and Sheep joins in.

Woohoo!

Ladder Man shouts “Woo hoo!”

Man With Antlers practices flying leap.

And Horny Fellow practices a flying leap.

Stands On Horse will perform his amazing trick.

For after dinner entertainment, Stands On Horse will perform his amazing tricks.

Frisbee starts at four. NEXT BLOG: Looking for God in all the wrong places.

And Antenna Guy will display his recently captured flying saucer.  That’s it for today. NEXT BLOG: I start my essay series. First up: Looking for God in All the Wrong Places.