OZ The Small and Dull

Went to the the Bay Theatre to see the new Oz movie.  Oh, dear. Disney's pre-production flying monkeys should have spent more time scouring Hollywood for some better screen writers, which is odd since given the material, you'd think they'd have been in need of an editor to cut things out, not be in desperate need of putting stuff in to keep the audience from falling asleep on the yellow brick road while creeping along listening to hours of boring, gruel-thin, repetitive, banal dialogue.  Luckily, in the last 1/2 hour the director managed to pull together several clever elements so at least it ended with a bang, but on the whole I should have stayed in Kansas.

On the upside, having now had a 2-hour preview of Disneyland's new Oz ride, I won't have to go to Anaheim to see Disneyland's newest Oz ride. Been there, done that.  At the Bay Theatre.  With popcorn.

Your Sunday Poem

Read a wonderful fragment in the Feb. 11 & 18th New Yorker, a review of an exhibit of surrealist drawings at the Morgan Library.  Peter Schjeldahl attributed to T.S. Eliot the comment that poetry is "a raid on the inarticulate," an extraordinarily apt observation.  Last week's poem had a delightful twist ending.  This poem has such an ending too, but this one is a good example why some poems should carry a warning label.  It's by Virginia Hamilton Adair and from "180 More," edited by Billy Collins.

Yea, Though I Walk

Stunted bush
beside the unpaved road
the shepherd often passes here
with his hundred sheep
their hooves churning the soft sand
the lambs bouncing as they follow along.

We walked under the palms
to see the shepherd lead
his traveling company
but they had gone by earlier
the dust had settled.

Under the stunted bush
a cool hollow in the sand
in it a lamb too lame to follow
a lamb with its feet wired together
lifted its little face.

Awww, Gaawwd

Ah, Supervisor Gibson.  He’s the gift that keeps on giving.  And in this case, the gift that keeps on costing the county. And keeps Tribune reporter, Bob Cuddy, fully employed. Case in point, a March  7 story, “Gibson’s email search daunting; Sifting through 5 years of files while ensuring privacy isn’t easy – or cheap.”

No, indeed, it isn’t cheap, but thanks to the Public Records Act, it’s gotta be done when former Los Osos CSD Director, Julie Tacker, decided she smelled a possible rat in the Gibson Canoodlegate and sent in a PRA for the emails.  And since she thinks there is a rat in the pile of paper but she doesn’t know where it’s lurking, so she requested the whole pile, which has to be sifted.

So there sits a county employee and a county attorney, rustle-rustle-rustle, a Rumplestiltskin-like pile of paper before them, spinning it all into redacted gold, line by line, page by page, 1,300 down and 14,000 more to go.

Ridiculous, you say? Well, if you think somebody’s the sort of character who breaks the rules with impunity, is up to no good, who sneaks around behaving badly, then when found out, games the system and basically indicates that he’s above the social norms of behavior, well, you might be inclined to think that this personage has likely been up to no good in other areas of his career not involving romance.  Like maybe this personage has been skating over the line and has gotten involved in other wrong doing or illegalities.

So you put in a PRA and the County starts sifting and runs up the bill, which in this case, may end up costing a few thousand dollars with a 50/50 chance it’s all a wild goose chase.  And Bob Cuddy writes another story and the Tribune sells a few more papers. And the Supervisors are left to roll their eyes again and lie quietly in the bed Mr. Gibson has made for them.

Speaking of Rodents

I never thought I’d live to see the day when I would praise Libertarian Wing-Nut, Congressman Rand Paul, but I’m here to praise him for his stunt: Filibustering for 13 hours on the floor of the Congress to demand the answer to a question he already had.  Silly, yes, but by gosh, he had the guts to filibuster the way it should be done – in public, his face and name all over his remarks, ‘splaining to any and all what his objections are about, what his point is, right there in the middle of Congress, in public, instead of using the silent, secret un-American shiv in a back room the way Senator McConnell does it.

So, good on Rand Paul.  Some of his blathering trivialized the whole drone-killing debate – Rest peacefully, Jane Fonda, you’re in no danger – but at least Paul dragged the beast out into the public eye where it needs to be.  I can only hope that the debate doesn’t get stuck in the “Let’s Kill Jane Fonda” nut-case mode that the media loves, but can seriously engage the public.  Drones are here to stay and whether we use them well or ill, whether they increase our freedoms or diminish them, depends on how we act now to control their use. And that discussion will have to be guided by adults and the rules of engagement will have to be debated by adults who understand that the real world lies somewhere between appallingly sociopathic  Dick Cheney’s “dark side,” and the sitting duck smile of Dr. Pangloss. 

Buy A Brick

Piedras Blancas Light Station Association has started a new fundraiser, "The Lighthouse Path Brick Paver Project."  For $100 you can buy an engraved brick which will be used to line the path around the lighthouse with all proceeds going to support the restoration of Piedras Blancas Light Station (just north of San Simeon.) The bricks allow for three lines, each line can have up to 16 characters, and you can purchase multiple bricks.  Bricks can honor individuals, your entire family, or commemorate a special date (like an anniversary).  And after the pavers are laid, you can go visit your brick whenever you wish, knowing you're now a part of a very special place.

If you haven't been up there recently, you're missing something.  The lighthouse is all painted now, the surrounding grounds have been completely restored to native habitat which is spectacular and plans are underfoot to rebuild the lightkeepers original home.

Guided tours run Monday through Saturday day Starting June 15 through Aug 31st. Visitors meet in the parking lot of the old motel just past the lighthouse on Hwy 1 at 9:45 and caravan into the grounds.  The tours are 2 hours in length and include a 1/2 mile walk that included spectacular ocean views.

So, if you're looking for a special gift or a perfect gift for your whole family, give the brick-selling folks a call at 927-3719 (unfortunately, they don't have ordering information on their website yet) or drop them a note as ask for the brick order forms to be sent to you.  Their address is Piedras Blancas Light Station Association, PO Box 127, San Simeon, CA 93452.

Your Sunday Poem

This by Catherine Doty, from "180 More, Extraordinary Poems for Every Day," selected by Billy Collins. A good example of how poetry can give such unexpected pleasure.

Outside the Mainway Market

Every day, our mother says,
kids die on those goddamed things,
and she nods at the lone yellow horse
with the red vinyl bridle
and four black, shining hooves
like police hat brims.
Not only do we stop our five-part
begging, we walk wide around the beast,
though Mary brushes the coin box
with her sleeve.

Rigid in flight, the great horse's legs
flange out towards us.  Not one of us argues.
We hold onto our mother's coat, cross
several streets, touch the dog we always touch
when we walk home, fingering
his freckled snout.  Then we scream
and run in the yard while supper cooks,
and the sky shudders pale for some seconds
before it darkens, as if in that lavender moment,
three blocks away, a child drops
the reins and gasps as his shoes fly off,
and plumes of smoke rise
from the crown of his hand-knit hat.