Events
Santa
Cruz Wine Festival
6.9/10.01
This is my favorite wine
festival. And I go to a few.
It's not just that I went
to school in Santa Cruz. It is that the Santa Cruz festival is the epitome
of what a wine festival should be. Santa Cruz country has many small wineries
up in the hills. Most are family owned and are not open much of the year.
However, over a two weekend
period at the beginning of June, these remote mountain wineries open their
doors to visitors.
It's wonderful. You go to
the wineries. Sit on the grass or among the vines, listen to whatever band
they've brought in for the festival, sip some wine, eat some gourmet food
(because most wineries bring in chefs) and relax.
We went the second weekend
of the festival, when the Southern wineries are open.
Karen and I drove down on
Saturday morning and met my mother and her boyfriend Gerry. They were camped
at a tent/RV campsite in the Henry Cowell State Park between Santa Cruz
and Felton.
Over the next six hours,
we drifted from winery to winery. Tasting. Sitting. Absorbing the summer
heat. We bought quite a lot of wine.
Then we went back to the
campground and cooked some steaks over an open fire. There's just something
about meat cooked in the out of doors. And while I detest most forms of
cooking, I enjoy cooking of doors. Go figure.
Later that evening we toasted
marshmallows and chatted by the fire.
The next morning we got up
and took a little hike. Here I've just got to say that Henry Cowell has
some great campsites. Our site was big. It had a nice tree cover. Plenty
of space to put up a tent. We were close to the bathrooms, of which there
were an adequate number. And it was very easy to roll out of our sleeping
bags and take a short hike.
There are a number of trails
that lead through the brush, oak and pine trees. And interestingly there
is a fair amount of sand. These mountains used to lie beneath the sea in
an earlier age of the world.
Gerry cooked us up an excellent
Eggs Benedict.
After our hike, Karen and
I headed out for some more wine tasting.
Sunday, we took things at
a slower pace and meandered past some of our favorite wineries. We even
visited an Alambic Brandy distillery. Although, of course, we could not
taste, we did sniff. The owner was quite knowledgeable and very interesting.
There are many wine festivals
in California. But really for relaxation, Santa Cruz is my favorite.
The Novato
Art and Wine Festival
6.24.01
Well, there wasn't much
wine at the festival this year, but whatever, that's not why I go.
I go for the calimari.
Mmmmm....fried calimari with a lime sauce. I love California where calimari
and gyros are considered festival food.
Actually, Karen and I had
a
bit of trouble going this year. We had it on our calendar as being the
weekend of the 16th. However, wrong. Karen, Kevin, and I arrived in Novato.
There was strangely plenty of parking. Strolled over to the main street
and...well, no festival. We had a lovely day wandering around doing nothing
much.
However, I wanted my calimari.
So, on Sunday, Karen and I headed out for a short hike at the South China
Beach State Park off 101, and then up to Novato.
We parked and strolled the
various booths of the festival. The Novato Art and Wine Festival has one
of the better collections of art/craft booths for a Summer Festival. It
was a little chilly (welcome to summer in the Bay Area) but the crowds
were in a good mood.
For whatever reason, the
wine tasting booth wasn't there this year, but then again there was no
entry fee either. And really, I felt pretty well satisfied with the wine
tasting that we did at the Santa Cruz Wine festival. After all the calimari
booth was there and that was what was important.
Have I mentioned that I really
like the calimari.
Neil Gaiman at Cody's
6.27.01
Crystal reads comics. a=b
Crystal is a woman. a=c
Women who read comics read
Neil Gaiman. c=d
Ergo, a=d, Crystal reads
Neil Gaiman.
Cold chop logic, but oddly
true.
Of course, that cannot sum
up the mythic language, the images, the imagination, and the incredible
breadth of knowledge, learning and humor that is Neil Gaiman. That is his
writing. That is in his voice when he reads.
Comic book writer, artist,
novelist, children's author, movie and t.v. scriptwriter.
Neil Gaiman can do anything.
a=b
Gods can do anything. c=b
Ergo, Neil Gaiman is a god.
a=c
Neil Gaiman was in town doing
a book promotion tour for his new book, American
Gods. And like a rustle in the grass, emails went from person to person.
Neil will be in town. He's going to read. Let's go see Neil.
And
so I put a little yellow sticky note on my computer. Neil Gaiman. And I
went, Kevin, and Karen, and Gina came too, but they're irrelevant to my
story. Neil was there. He came and read. And a hundred or so people came
and crammed into seats and stood up against the wall to listen.
I arrived an hour early.
Bought the book, well its only polite. The room was already packed. Kevin
was saving a seat. I told him to hold it for Karen and went foraging on
my own. There were still one or two solitary seats for the quick. I looked
around for two seats, so I could save one for Gina. Nothing. I decided
to grab something before I ended up standing. So, sat and I began to read
American Gods. Sank into the story of Shadow and Mr. Wednesday and old
gods scrabbling off the Americana. I was glad to sit alone. It meant that
I could read.
And then there he was. A
tall stoop shouldered Englishman. Longish black hair. Pale. Wears a black
leather coat. Always. Wears black. All the time. Looks like Morpheus, but
doesn't speak in black bubbles.
Instead, he has wonderful
English accented speaking voice. Full of humor and pauses. And when he
reads you see the characters. Hear their voices, as they ought to sound.
He did not have a copy of
the book. He asked if anyone had it. We laughed together. Someone stood
up and handed him one.
He started to read and then
paused and apologized for not doing the author thing. You know where you
clear your throat and explain the story. So, he cleared his throat. Gave
a quick one sentence explanation of the book and continued.
He read a chapter set in
San Francisco. A place like no other. Where Easter has a picnic in a park
and then has a mocachino. Where waitresses have eyebrow rings as symbols
of caste.
And he finished reading and
I sighed.
Then there was a short Q&A
session. He started with a round of movie news. The status of various books
and stories in production. So, we wouldn't have to waste questions on them.
People raised their arms
and questions and asked. And he answered and meandered and was humorous
and serious by turns.
The most emotionally striking
moment of the evening was when one woman asked what it was like to know
Roger Zelazny, one of the people the book is dedicated to, who died in
1995 of liver cancer. And he spoke of knowing Roger as a friend who you
thought would live forever. Someone that you thought you had plenty of
time to know. And then there wasn't. He spoke of going to the funeral and
seeing other writers and saying that they were Roger's bastard step-children,
because although there were and are better writers, Roger's work made you
want to write. And in his voice as he spoke was the knowledge that if he
tipped it a little more and we would all cry.
And then they whisked him
away to sign. The line stretched round the store. I went off with Karen
and Kevin for dinner. I'm not much into signatures. When we walked by again
at 10:00, the line was even longer. Because you know he didn't just sign.
He talked to everyone.
Because you don't need an
equation to know that Neil Gaiman=insanely cool.
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