Gentle Wisdom; Confident Common Sense. We'll Miss You, Andy!

Andy Griffith, with very few exceptions, gave us characters that were decent, moral, and strong: qualities, it seems, that are no longer permitted

With most tributes focusing on the iconic Sheriff Andy Taylor and Matlock, I gotta ask: how many out there remember Salvage 1? It was a short-lived (16 episodes) sci-fi series that debuted in 1979 – warm, ingenious, and a real hoot.

Andy played Harry Broderick, a junkman with astronautical ambitions:

Narrator: [opening narration] Once upon a time, a junkman had a dream.
Harry Broderick: I want to build a spaceship, go to the moon, salvage all the junk that's up there, bring it back, sell it.
Narrator: So he put together a team. An ex-astronaut. A fuel expert. They built a rocket ship, and they went to the moon. Who knows what they'll do next.

I loved the pilot episode better than any that followed. Putting together a rocket ship using salvage from his junkyard, assembling his team of misfits, and actually launching was vintage Andy Griffith hilarity. The flight, however, had its heart-stopping moments. They hacked into NASA’s navigational systems, see, and…

Look it up. You’ll love it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eSsqsbv0FWg

Dog Day Afternoon

Or, Chico’s First Day on the Job

Friendswood Health Care Center

 It was our vet’s idea. The veterinary hospital/kennel where Chico stays when we travel has long said he would be a good therapy dog. “He’s the perfect house guest!” Dr. Kivney enthused. He must be, since he never wants to leave when we come back for him. Spoiled rotten to boot.

So I called the Activities Director at the nearest nursing home. Her name is Rose, and she was delighted. In fact, she’d declared the entire month of July as Dog Days and was actively seeking volunteers.

And so, with no training or any idea what to expect, I duly reported to Friendswood Health Care Center yesterday, July 4, at 3:15 PM with Chico in tow.

A bustling commons area opened directly off the entry foyer. A boom box blared patriotic music while Rose served coffee, ice cream and red, white and blue cookies. Chico, rebelling against the unaccustomed harness and leash, anxiously headed for the action.  Immediately he became entangled with table legs and between spokes of wheelchairs. On hands and knees I struggled to extricate him, ultimately having to remove the harness assembly completely.  And he was off, eagerly seeking people to pet him.

A nurse quickly called a halt to that. Things must be under control in a nursing home, after all. Understandable, but it would’ve been better for Chico to choose his own petters. Handing him from person to person made him wary, and the shaky hands that reached out evidently reminded him of the jerky motions of grandsons. He actually snapped twice at residents who would’ve loved to hold him. I was shocked and mortified, but the folks were forgiving. No one wanted him to leave.  Finally I learned how to gauge an encounter and Chico did score some quality lap time.

It was better going into residents’ rooms where it was dark and quiet. Rose pointed me toward patients who were lucid but immobile. I politely knocked, and was granted the acquaintance of an amazing 95-year-old. Chico nestled in next to her with no hesitation while we visited.  He was more fidgety with the next lady, but then she was sitting up and didn’t have much of a lap.
On the way out he garnered more attention at a nursing station, which he ate up with no reservation whatever. 

I stopped at Sonic for hotdogs. It was the Fourth, after all. But once home, Chico showed none of his usual frenzy for people food. He went straight for his bed.

Wizard 101

What the heck is Grandma doing here??

 The email popped up in a corner of my screen: What is your player's name on Wizard101 and what time do you get on?

(Huh? Uh…) I'm not playing. I just got on the site to buy the membership for your birthday. (My 13-year-old granddaughter actually thought I’d PLAY? Yikes!)

Well, I have 3 wizards: (and she names them, plus the level each is on.)

Wow! What great names! I am exploring the site right now, but I'm afraid games like this have never been my "thing"!

Well, Mommy doesn't play the game, but I showed her a few spells and she likes it.

No kidding. Mommy used to kick butt playing her dad and brother on Dungeons & Dragons, Utopia, Zelda, etc. back in the day. Me? Completely pathetic. Couldn’t even venture an inch from base without GAME OVER blasting across the screen.

Well, I think you'll love the game!

We'll see. Downloading now. (I can’t believe I’m doing this. Thank goodness! The dryer buzzer.)

 Are you fixing to play it?

Not now - dryer just quit so gotta fold laundry. Hmmmm...download seems to be stuck.  Well, I'll just have to get back to it. Sigh.
I’m back. Closed out and re-entered. Looks like it’s doing something this time.

Awesome! (Animated smiley)

I’m in. Ambrose, the headmaster of Ravenwood, is taking my measure. Whoa! I have flowing turquoise hair! Oh, no! I’m supposed to fight something! I was instructed to draw a card and then click on a monster. I’m clicking like crazy - don’t seem to have any control. Am I supposed to move forward while I click on the monster??

Yes

But when I try to move forward the room spins around!

It gets easier when you know what you’re doing.

So when’s THAT going to be? Help! I don’t know what the heck I’m doing!! Stuff’s happening all over the place! Why aren’t I dead? How do I get outa here?

Do you want me to meet you in the Commons?

You can do that? Uh, too late now. Already hit ESC.

Well, let me know when you get back on.

(Get back on? Seriously?) Sure, Sweetie…

God’s Politics

Why the Right Gets it Wrong

  And the Left Doesn’t Get It

Common sense may be making a comeback. Listen to this:  “God is not a Republican…or a Democrat. Since when did believing in God and having moral values make you pro-war, pro-rich, and solely pro-Republican?  And since when did promoting and pursuing a progressive social agenda with a concern for economic security, health care, and educational opportunity mean you had to put your faith in God aside?”

 And that’s just the beginning.

 This compelling, enlightening and blatantly revealing tome by Jim Wallis should be on every required reading list. He lays out the facts and stats and calls to task every public leader who’s thrown aside the common good or, worse, misused Scripture to further goals of power and greed.



Wallis proves without prelude how wars, terrorism and domestic strife are the direct result of poverty.  People who enjoy basic rights and a chance to earn a living wage create a healthy, thriving environment. Where human rights and opportunities for honest labor are deliberately tossed aside, wars and terrorism can be waged to profit a powerful few.

This book had a profound effect on me mostly because I’d read two others first: Confessions of an Economic Hit Man, by John Perkins, and War is a Racket, by Brig. Gen. Smedley D. Butler. Having been thoroughly introduced to the dark underbelly of the world’s workings,  I understood very well the urgent need to eradicate the causes of poverty – and who we have to fight to do it.



Jim Wallis

Jim Wallis is described as a public theologian, nationally renowned preacher, faith-based activist, author of seven books, and the founder of Sojourners, a nationwide network of progressive Christians working for justice and peace. In this capacity, he has become a familiar figure to political leaders the world over.

Discovering Dorothy Gilman

It was an old, old-looking book - a Fawcett paperback printed in the 60's - lurking between much larger volumes in a remote, dusty bookcase. The cover was loose, the pages browned, the print tiny. But the title: The Unexpected Mrs. Pollifax, was irresistable. I drew it out and put it on my desk for future consideration. Finally, about three days ago, I finished all my other reading projects and picked it up.  

"Unexpected" is the operative word. It's a whodunnit on par with "Murder, She Wrote." A retired lady roughly my age ditches the garden club circuit to seek adventure. Somehow she scores an interview at the Langley CIA headquarters. Though not in the least taken seriously, she ends up on a mission anyway when mistaken for the agent actually intended for the job. Needless to say, things go south in a hurry.

Despite her gentility and naivete, she proves to be remarkably resourceful. It was a delightful, albeit suspenseful, romp. The only thing that bothered me was the dialog. The words of Mrs. Pollifax were totally in character, but not even back in the 50's and 60's would a seasoned American agent on his home turf use "quite so" and "rather" in the manner of a cultivated mid-century Englishman. I was convinced Miss Gilman was either a Brit or overly influenced by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

The truth is that Dorothy Gilman was born June 25, 1923, in New Brunswick, NJ, and lived mainly in Maine and Connecticut. I was startled to learn that she only recently passed away on February 2, 2012.  She wrote a whole series on Mrs. Pollifax along with several childrens' books and other mystery novels. Needless to say, I've hopped onto Amazon and ordered three more Mrs. Pollifax titles.

Back to the Hills, Part 6

The last Night – and Back Home

The Timber Cove Inn in Jenner, CA

For my last night on Sarah’s mountain, we decided to wind it up with dinner at the Timber Cove Inn. Now, normally I only write about a restaurant if I’m wildly excited about it. This will be an exception.

First I called to be sure they were open, a wise practice around here, since anyplace you go means a long drive and operating hours tend to be at the owner’s whim. Yes, they would be open from 5 to 9 for dinner. Did I wish to make a reservation? Uh…reservation? Is there, like, a dress code? No, but one does need to make reservations. Well, okay. Sure. Seven o’clock. Fagan, F as in Frank, a-g-a-n.

I do have to say that both the building and the seaside setting are extremely impressive. The lobby was a lofty, cathedral-style vault done in rustic log beams. The stone fireplace was massive. Along one side was a lengthy bar where a wine tasting was in full swing. Down the steps behind the bar was a small but elegant dining room with its own circular, free-standing fireplace in the middle. The view from the high, glassed in wall beyond included a terraced patio with additional tables. The sweeping ocean vista was thrilling. Then we were handed the menus.

You’ve got to be kidding. Prices are notorious everywhere in California, but this bordered on unbridled extravagance. Sis had been here before several years back with some of our cousins and hadn’t remembered it being so exorbitant. We ordered from what we suspected was the appetizer section. I had scallops with wilted pea vines served in some sort of reduction. Sarah had a cod salad.

Fine dining, as you may know, is mostly about presentation. The scallops (all three of them!) arrived on a long, boat-shaped saucer sitting on a luncheon plate, which in turn rested on a large square platter. Between each piece of china was an exquisite paper doily.  Sarah’s cod was served in an exaggerated, modern art sort of ladle decorously dominating its square platter. But instead of a doily, it was accompanied by a smear of herb sprinkled butter and an artful stack of the thinnest, hardest toast ever. Sarah was certain they could hear her crunching on the stuff halfway down the coast. That, and a lovely basket containing 4 pieces of cold bread, was the total sustenance offered.

We left the place starving. And for less than the price of just one of those meals, we both dined sumptuously the next night at the Gourmet Garden, an extensive Chinese buffet in Petaluma. I reviewed it most enthusiastically on my last visit. It happens to be next door to the Best Western where we go prior to my boarding the 4:30 AM airport shuttle the next morning.

And thus endeth this trip to the northern California mountains.

The view from Seat 6C. (Relax - I used

 a real camera, not my phone!)

Back to the Hills, Part 5

Let’s go get the mail

There’s nothing more relaxing after a strenuous day than the scenic trek to the mailbox. Put on your comfiest clodhoppers and let’s go.

The head of the driveway is wide to accommodate

truck turnarounds, vineyard crew vehicles

and porta-potties.

Approaching the first gate, whose main
purpose is to keep deer from eating grapes.

And into the woods, fragrant with pine, cedar and bay.





The second gate, whose purpose escapes me.
All the vineyards up here have them.
Trying to keep out revenuers?

And out onto the road. Very rarely will you meet a car here.

Can you see the mailbox yet!

Aha! We have something!