At times, the southwest desert seems like an otherworldly place…stark, beautiful, sort of scary.
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Thanksgiving Day Thoughts
I don’t know what everyone else will be doing on this day that really doesn’t seem to celebrate anything but a toxic and heartless dominance over indigenous peoples, but in my little world, except for family, there isn’t a whole lot to be grateful for. This is a Thanksgiving mainly of fear for the future, an unsettling feeling that we don’t know when the other shoe will drop and this country will erupt in absolute and total chaos.
But that’s just me…
“Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.” Joy Harjo
While we’re in the midst of preparations to enjoy a feast with friends and family tomorrow, I hope we don’t forget to honor, and with gratitude, recognize the Indigenous Peoples.
For many Native Americans, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning and protest because it commemorates the arrival of settlers and the oppression and genocide that followed.
“Will you teach your children what we have taught our children? That the earth is our mother? What befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth.” Chief Seattle
“When you know who you are when your mission is clear, and you burn with the inner fire of unbreakable will; no cold can touch your heart; no deluge can dampen your purpose. You know that you are alive.” – Chief Seattle, Suquamish/Duwamish (1786-1866)
Chief Seattle (more correctly known as Seathl) was a Suquamish and Duwamish chief. A leading figure among his people, he pursued a path of accommodation to white settlers, but I bet he regretted it as soon as he realized what it really meant to his people.
Photo of people and tents and quote credit to Chief Seattle and Native Red Cloud Maȟpíya Lúta~Hińhan Wakangli. Photo credit of Chief Seattle from Wiki
On A Dark Desert(ed) Highway
This all happened quite a while ago, but I realized I hadn’t shared it, so here’s the scary story of my almost brush with death; a cautionary tale of the time I might have starred in a Dateline episode.
I had to be somewhere very early, too early to inconvenience anyone by asking for a ride, so I called a car service. I’ll be vague about which one, but it’s one of the big guys.
It was dark; I waited outside, the driver was on time. The first thing I noticed (red flag number one) is that the car stopped and he started it up again. I thought maybe he was saving gas, so didn’t really think too much about it. We had a few stop signs on the way to the freeway and the engine stalled at every one of them and had to be started back up. (red flag number two). I was a bit concerned and that’s probably when I should have told him to turn around and found another form of transportation but I didn’t.
The driver spoke no English. I mean, ZERO. I managed to learn that he was from Colombia. I could see the Google map on his phone was in Spanish. I spoke a bit of Spanish so we were able to sort of communicate.
Finally on the freeway, his car was going VERY SLOW, well under the speed limit. The engine hadn’t stalled again, though. (another red flag.)
The driver wore very thick glasses and seemed to have a difficult time seeing the road as he was slightly weaving out of his lane. It’s a good thing that it was so early with not many cars on the road. I don’t think he was drunk; I think he couldn’t SEE the road. (red flag!)
The headlights also seemed to be malfunctioning; he’d turn them off and on and the car would sort of slow down and speed up, which was reallyreally freaking me out.
I was beginning to get a little more panicky every second, and even more so when, for some reason, he took the wrong exit on the freeway. We were in a rural area that was heavily wooded- no houses, no stores; nothing.
The very worst case scenarios were running through my head at warp speed. We were on a frontage road with no lights and no people. I thought there was a good possibility that I was going to be the victim of a horrible crime, I really did.
If the worst happened, no one would find me out in the middle of nowhere on a dark, deserted highway. I was petrified, thinking of all the horror stories I had heard about getting in cars with strangers.
Loudly, I commanded, “HEY! This is the wrong exit. GET BACK ON THE FREEWAY NOW!”
I had my hand on the door and 911 ready to be called on my phone. I was ready to bolt and run. I was terrified.
For a brief moment that seemed to last for days, he hesitated, and then, thankfully, turned around. We got back on the freeway, and at which point he was completely lost. I had to direct him the rest of the way to my ultimate destination but not before his car stalled AGAIN at the final stoplight.
I leapt out of his car while it was still slightly moving and RAN into the building. It took forever for my heart rate to subside and the adrenaline to stop pouring through my body. I was as shaky as the time I got an EpiPen for a bee sting. I had to force myself to breathe and slowly regained my calm.
There were so many red flags 🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩🚩 that I ignored. Never again!
Friends have asked me if I reported the driver. I thought about it, but I didn’t. Although it was scary, nothing bad actually happened. I was so grateful to be alive and unharmed that I wanted to forget all about it. However, I don’t think his vehicle was going to last much longer, so maybe he’ll figure out that driving people around isn’t the right career choice.
The lesson is to listen to your gut in all life circumstances. If something doesn’t feel right, it most likely is a warning that should be heeded.
I am 1000% grateful that the universe and all the angels once again protected me from harm.
Have you ever experienced a similar scary event?
Vintage San Diego: Bays, Bars, and Books
I don’t talk much about the part of Southern California where I live; other than my beach, lagoon, and the stupid local government. I’m about thirty or forty miles or so from the city, and while I don’t often get down there, I do love old pictures that chronicle the history of San Diego far more accurately than words.
Here’s a photo of San Diego Bay taken in 1892 from the vantage point of State Street and Broadway. It all looks calm and free of tourists, exactly how we locals like our life here in SoCal.
I always thought the oldest bar in San Diego was the Waterfront, but it’s not, because the Waterfront opened in 1933 when prohibition was repealed,
The oldest bar in San Diego is the Tivoli Bar, opened as a saloon in 1885. It’s located on a lot originally owned by Alonzo Horton who helped develop most of downtown San Diego.
Built in 1864, the building was first called the Walker House and functioned as a boarding house, feed store, and blacksmith shop. The Walker House was converted into a saloon and kitchen in 1885. The original bar (still there) was built in Boston and brought to San Diego by ship around Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America, a journey which took three to four months.
The original cash register from the turn of the 20th century and the old safe are still displayed in the bar.
The Tivoli Bar has hosted many famous characters including Wyatt Earp and his wife Josephine, whose photos are prominently displayed over the entrance to the bar, along with Frank Sinatra and Sophia Loren.
The bar flourished during a time when San Diego was a boomtown and the Gaslamp was the city’s red light district, an area then known as the Stingaree. A warning sign from the time reads: “This area is known to be populated by anarchists, confidence men, cut throats, shady ladies, hop heads, perverts and thieves.”
Here’s an 1882 crime report from a local newspaper: “About 8 o’clock on Friday evening, a fracas occurred in the Tivoli Saloon between Gus Young and one Ballantine, in which the former was struck over the head with a chair in such a forcible manner that the latter is of no further service, and will have to be sent to a furniture store for repairs.”
I bet there were some wild times inside the Tivoli–if only the walls could talk! It’s a certified dive bar and I can’t believe I’ve never been there. I think it’d be fun to take the train downtown and check it out.
Have you heard of reporter and author Max Miller?
Max Miller was a reporter for the San Diego Sun and author of twenty eight books. In 1932, he wrote I Cover the Waterfront, an interesting account of San Diego’s port community that inspired Hollywood movies and became the title of a jazz standard sung by Billie Holliday, Frank Sinatra, and Sarah Vaughan, but sadly, NOT Leon Russell.
The book’s characters include true-life sea captains, Portuguese fishermen, flying squid, sparkling Garibaldi fish, movie stars, Charles Lindbergh, Babe Ruth, and a beautiful young woman who got away.
Miller also drew from his experiences living in Everett, Washington and when he attended the University of Washington. He also wrote Harbor of the Sun: The Story of the Port of San Diego, which is a fairly difficult book to locate. He died in La Jolla.
Here’s Sarah Vaughan with her 1946 version of I Cover The Waterfront (I couldn’t find a Leon Russell connection this time at all…LOL).
FYI: This is not a post written with the intention to extol any vacation virtues of San Diego. We REALLY have far too many visitors here but I’m sure there are other lovely places to choose for a holiday…
Incoming Tide
There is no drop of water in the ocean, not even in the deepest parts of the abyss, that does not know and respond to the mysterious forces that create the tide. — Rachel Carson
This particular beach is a favorite for locals to surf and tidepool, so we are always a bit vague as to the specific location to protect it from being overrun by ill-mannered tourists who trash our beaches.
The Popcorn King 🍿 Orville Redenbacher
Last night I made some popcorn the old fashioned way — on the stovetop. I don’t often have popcorn, but I couldn’t think of anything to eat, so I made some and sprinkled it with pink Himalayan sea salt, which I know is uber trendy right now, but I’ve always used it primarily because it’s PINK and so pretty!
While eating the warm crunchy popped corn, I remembered that once upon a time, I met the Popcorn King himself, Orville Redenbacher.
During the America’s Cup races in San Diego. I was on a spectator boat and Orville was on board, too.
There was an undercurrent of chatter; buzz that someone famous was with us, and there he was, in his trademarked glasses and bow tie. Since we know by now that I’m not afraid of talking to anybody, whether it’s Willie Nelson or Vice President Al Gore or a rude Rob Reiner (Kauai), I had a sweet little chat with OR, who WAS a very nice man, by the way.
Did you know that Orville Redenbacher actually was a scientist? He developed a new strain of popcorn that kept that whole industry alive.
Back then, before smart phones, no one was as obsessed with documenting each and every moment of their lives, and while it WAS the America’s Cup and a pretty big deal, I still didn’t have a camera with me, so I don’t have photographic proof, I’m sorry to report.
Orville asked me for my address and I gave it to him because he said he was going to send me something. I had totally forgotten about our conversation until a gigantic box arrived a few weeks later, full of OR popcorn and products.
Sadly, I didn’t know that Orville Redenbacher died in 1995 at his home in Coronado, which is on the other side of San Diego Bay.
Belated, but RIP to the Popcorn King.🍿
Oceanside Rock Garden
This sounds like so much fun! I guess it’s where you can find me when Mom and Dad are here and I’m with the Angel Kids while they’re out surfing.
Oceanside Harbor staff created a Rock Garden for free family fun. It’s located in the far northeast area of the Harbor near the “A” Dock.
All are welcome to leave a painted rock, take one home to create rock art, or work on one at the nearby picnic table to leave with the others. Spread positivity! Kids can stack rocks, too–make a cairn for others to admire.
(I’m not sure who took this photo because someone shared it with me, but credit to whoever it was.)
Earthquakes and Wind Chimes, OH MY!
I had another post planned for today but then this happened!
I was in a store looking at a wall of wind chimes (I love them so much). They were on sale which always gives me an added thrill.
Suddenly, ALL THE WIND CHIMES STARTED SWAYING BACK AND FORTH!
I had a split second realization that we were going to have an earthquake, and at that precise moment, there was a very loud bang, like the ceiling and the lights were going to crash down around us — definite sky is falling vibes.
The entire store was rocking and rolling. People started to rush out the front doors as we’ve been taught. I thought about it for a couple seconds and decided not to follow the crowd because I had a few things in my cart for the Angels and didn’t want to have a wasted shopping trip. In the face of potential danger, my shopping obsession prevailed lol.
Phone alarms were going off like crazy with initial reports of a 6.2 earthquake which is pretty big. Later on it was downgraded to a 5.2, but it felt more powerful than that. It was reported as having a Modified Mercalli Intensity (MMI) of VI, which is classified as “strong”. There were several aftershocks all afternoon; not as scary.
A woman near me was shaking, visibly upset. I asked her if she needed a hug, she said yes, so I gave her one, hoping it would calm her down a bit. I agree it was definitely upsetting.
Should I stay or go? I decided the planets and the universe had given me an unmistakable SIGN that I needed to buy that chime I had been looking at, so I did.
The last BIG earthquake here was the 2010 Baja California quake that occurred on April 4 (Easter Sunday) with a magnitude of 7.2 and a maximum Mercalli Intensity of VII (very strong). Including today and our 4.2 earthquake in 2023, these all took place in April. I think that might be a significant fact, but I’m not sure exactly what it means…
I’ll never forget that Sunday in 2010. My darling kitty, Bandit, was keeping me company while I painted the downstairs living room. I had created a color that replicated the inside of a conch shell, sort of light pink/tan; exactly what I wanted. I was on a ladder when Bandit jumped on the sofa next to where I was and stared up at me. I looked at her and said, “What’s up, my love?” At that moment, the entire house felt and sounded like a train ran through it. The ladder was shaking and I had a hard time coming down. It was quite disorienting. Bandit gave me the dirtiest look like I had personally upset her tranquil morning. I ran upstairs and out onto the deck in time to watch my neighbor’s pool water slosh back and forth and pour over the sides. That earthquake went on for quite a while. All the neighbors ended up going out in the street to make sure we were all OK, and except for a few askew picture frames, none of my (way too many) seashells and other little things I collect fell off the shelves. I finished painting the room but Bandit spent the day hiding under the bed. She had enough excitement for one day.
This quake felt similarly powerful to me, but didn’t last quite as long. At least I can count on my new earthquake warning system, right?
I bet my old geology professor will appear on all the TV stations as he usually does to talk about tectonic plates and shifts and faults and all that stuff. I’m still angry at him for giving me a “D” in Geology. Considering how much I love rocks, that shouldn’t have happened, but to be honest, it was a great year for skiing and Mammoth was calling to me, so I guess I missed a few too many classes…
Poetic Truth : Pity The Nation
We are living in sad and scary times. Lawrence Ferlinghetti wrote the poem “Pity the Nation” in 2007, drawing inspiration from Khalil Gibran’s original work of the same title, published in 1933. Their words are a reminder about the cycles of history.
We’ve been warned.
PITY THE NATION
Pity the nation whose people are sheep
And whose shepherds mislead them
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
Whose sages are silenced
And whose bigots haunt the airwaves
Pity the nation that raises not its voice
Except to praise conquerers
And acclaim the bully as hero
And aims to rule the world
By force and by torture
Pity the nation that knows
No other language but its own
And no other culture but its own
Pity the nation whose breath is money
And sleeps the sleep of the too well fed
Pity the nation oh pity the people
who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away
My country, tears of thee
Sweet land of liberty!
Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 2007
PITY THE NATION
By Khalil Gibran, 1933
Pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion.
Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its own wine-press.
Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful.
Pity the nation that despises a passion in its dream, yet submits in its awakening.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block.
Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking.
Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again.
Pity the nation whose sages are dumb with years and whose strong men are yet in the cradle.
Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.
Hidden Treasures at Goodwill
What is the most valuable thing you ever found at Goodwill?
I THINK I just discovered a real hidden treasure, like something you’d see on Antiques Roadshow!
I often stop at the Goodwill located right next door to TJ Maxx. I hadn’t been there in a while, but yesterday morning it didn’t look too crowded so I decided to check it out.
I’m always on the lookout for cute little boxes or animal figurines. I didn’t see anything like that, but a very unusual vase caught my eye. I looked and looked at it, and I knew I didn’t NEED a vase, but the shape and colors were unique and I brought it home for $3.99.
Always curious, I researched the maker’s name on the bottom…Finland Arabia. There’s a lot of information online and I learned that Arabia was a Finnish ceramics company, founded in 1873 by Rörstrand. The specific type of mark on the bottom of my vase indicated it was made between 1900-1917.
It’s in absolutely pristine condition. I couldn’t find this exact triangle kind of design (which might mean it’s super rare) but similar pieces recently sold for hundreds of dollars!
Who would toss out this turn-of-the-century beauty with the stylized floral motif?
I probably won’t ever sell it, but I’m grateful to have rescued her (for $3..99!!!!) and she’ll have pride of place in my display case.
If anyone knows anything about this piece, please tell me!
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 