Everything That Rises Must Converge - My Take (from LOST)

When I saw Jacob reading Flannery O'Connor's book, I decided I had better read it. So I did.

It is a collection of extremely well-written short stories. At first, I looked for obvious clues for the meaning of Lost, but I soon realized that that was not the point. The characters are realistic, flawed people. Often, they are convinced they are right, proudly and stubbornly sticking to prejudices and preconceptions, right up to a point when they receive harsh justice. Some of these stories punched me hard in the gut. I can't recommend them enough.

From Entertainment Weekly's Jeff Jensen: "As it happens, Flannery O’Connor’s aforementioned book takes its title — Everything That Rises Must Converge — from a phrase coined by an egghead and fellow Catholic provocateur named Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, who concocted a theory of evolution called “Omega Point.” Basically, it’s the idea that there is some kind of transcendent entity or consciousness that is guiding everyone and everything toward greater complexity and enlightenment, until everyone and everything becomes transcendent, too. I think. More simply, it’s Jacob’s view: There is a single end; everything before then is progress. Chardin believed his Omega entity was basically Jesus Christ himself. His phrase, “everything that rises must converge,” is a poetical expression of a key Christian idea known in the Greek apokatastasis. It’s like the opposite of apocalypse, or rather, what comes after apocalypse. I’m not trying to get all religious on you, but it is what it is: apokatastasis is the idea that in the end, Satan will be defeated and that all of creation will be redeemed and unified under Christ. “Now is the judgment of the world: now shall the prince of this world be cast out. And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself.” (John 12:31-32) Or, again, to use a line from the show: “He who will save us all.” That, my friends, is the answer, translated from Richard Alpert’s Latin, to Ilana’s riddle: “What lies in the shadow of the statue?’"

Maybe so, and after reading the stories, this theme fits. However, the message is not easy, it is not plain and straight-forward, it is rather quite deep and thoughtful, and it is full of pain and tragedy.

Holy moley, what a show.

SAMANTHA SAYS: This is how I'm looking at LOST right now

(See my response below.)

Alright. According to DANIEL... (which let's face it, could be lying or have it wrong. he's human) There is inevitability, fate, one string, one timeline, etc. This is NOT back to the future, Chaos Theory blah blah blah. It's all inevitable, certain. This pretty much makes perfect sense for:

RICHARD who remembers LOCKE who researches him his whole life after being visited by him in "Jughead."

CHARLOTTE who remembers DANIEL being cooky to her when she was a little girl (we know he ends up hanging out with the DI from the first scene of the season).

Now... It appears ROUSSEAU should have remembered JIN in the previous seasons because of what we saw last night. Maybe she did, she didn't say anything. This is a bit of a copout for the writers, a little.
Well, they didn't exactly write all of these details going on now until now so who can blame 'em? Oh well, They can't go back and change it. We can just say she didn't say anything or maybe thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Unfortunately.

What is even more confusing is DANIEL and DESMOND's relationship. What happened in "The Constant" was his CONSCIOUSNESS (due to side effects leaving the island's radius) moving him around his life. It's not him flashing back the way Locke and Sawyer and Juliet and Jin are. So that would be the excuse for them not remembering each other when meeting on the island in Season 4.
It would seem that DANIEL does in fact remember DESMOND, concerning his journey to find the island. But that is just a little guess from me to make the story cool, he probably went there for issues concerning his mother and his science (???). But how else would he know about the island? I guess from what his mother told him. He was also hired by Charles Widmore to study (whatever it is he studies) and possibly help find the island. But how did he even know to tell DESMOND that he was "special"? Hmm, that's an issue. Maybe because of DESMONDS issue on the freighter and finding a constant. Maybe he is special because he turned the failsafe key and was first and foremost near the radiation. He did start predicting the future after that, so... But DANIEL doesn't even know about that stuff. Moving on.

The only problem so far (besides Rousseau not recognizing Jin) is the whole "I'm Desmond so I'm going to wake up in 2007 and suddenly remember Daniel talking to me years ago when he was moving around through time." That is sort of an issue for me because according to DANIEL it would have always happened and he should have always remembered it the way RICHARD and CHARLOTTE has. But this is when DANIEL says "You're specal, yadda yadda yadda." So I think the thing there is just going to remain a mystery for us until the writers touch base with that again and maybe explain why and how DESMOND is special.

Mike L B:

Well, I think it's something like ROUSSEAU didn't remember it before, because it hadn't happened yet,
but now she will remember it, or she would, if she were alive. However, that logic argues more for multiple time lines,
but it's consistent with how DESMOND's memory seems to change, based on a dream he may have.

Or Desmond is just the first to gain a hard "constant," and that's what makes him special.
AND that's exactly why (some of the six? all of the six?) have to go back, and establish a string of constants and everything clicks in.

Yes, see above, you mention this is not "Back to the Future" (or "Terminator"),

(I never bothered with "Terminator III" because "Terminator II" showed that no matter what happens,
you can just go back in time and change it, which, of course, doesn't work, it destroys the universe.)

(The writers of "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" understood this absurdity.)

Anyway, this may be not one timeline, either, because that is always a self-defeating paradox-slash-wormhole,
especially if characters can interact and make changes.

(When the guys in the movie "Primer" tried this,
they could not avoid a new time-line, every time they time-traveled.
- see http://chookyfuzzbang.blogspot.com/2005/06/primer-for-primer.html
And there was nothing that could be done about it, it is a never-ending nightmare.)

Back to LOST, I keep thinking a "constant" is a way to bridge or fix multiple time-lines that cause paradoxes,
and if you don't do that, the universe kills you, which prevents the impossible from happening.
(Before last night, I thought the smoke-monster was the universe making paradox corrections.)

In "Doomsday Book" by Connie Willis, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Connie_Willis, an elegant approach, I thought, was used:
"In theory, history has built-in protections to keep the past from being altered, resulting in travelers being prevented from visiting certain places or times. In such a case, the machine used for time travel will refuse to function, rendering the trip impossible. In the rest of the cases "slippage", a shift in the exact time target, occurs. The time-traveler enters after the target time, but the arrival point is the nearest place-and-time such that the visitor cannot cause a paradox. This may result in a significant variance from the projected place or time, in practice anything from 5 minutes to 5 years."

Anyway, what was the paradox that CHARLOTTE had to die in order to prevent?

Dear Nephew

Just when I thought there wasn't much more interesting to say about Vampires, a movie comes out of nowhere and blows me away. I am talking about "Let the Right One In," which I tell you you must seen as soon as you can. Frightening, disturbing, and a lot of fun. The spouse and the son joined me last night, the son says it's his favorite movie, ever. I would encourage you not to read about it before hand, if possible. (You probably are way ahead of me on this one. I wonder if you on the East Coast get movies before we do. It is from Europe [Sweden] after all.)

God, those eyes, I can't stop seeing her eyes.

Since I am on the subject, the other new film I have seen is "Rachel is Getting Married," an excellent and very intimate character film which I recommend. Realistic as hell, I loved it.

On the rental front, I finally watched Herzog's "Rescue Dawn." Yes, it is right up there with his other films. This takes place (mostly) deep in the jungle of Southeast Asia. He does jungle-forest stuff so well! There are memorable scenes of the characters (Christian Bale, Steve Zahn) struggling through thick vines and brush that seemingly grab at them, pulling them down, it's alive. Nothing tricky here, no special effects, no false twists, just realism, survival. Outstanding!

In the Winter of 1978

In the winter of 1978, I somehow found a job in the city working as a breakfast busboy. One workday morning I couldn’t find my car outside my studio apartment where I usually park. I suspected that it had been stolen. I soon realized I had forgotten to move it from the north side of the street to the south side, so the snow plow couldn’t get through. The City towed the rusty Ford away. I had to walk to work, and was late. The City ransomed the car for a week’s pay.

Sometime later, braving the sub-zero pre-dawn, I found the Pinto to be gone again. This time I found it buried under three feet of snow. I shoveled it free, but I was late again.

Later that month, my friend Ray and I went to the War Memorial to see the Dead. The crowd, as usual, was hyper. Afterwards Ray asked me something.

“Do you want to come to California with me? I have a temporary job.”

This was a major decision, and would require serious thought.

“I’ll need to think about it,” I said.

Two seconds passed. “Okay.”

Ray and I soon came to San Jose. We found an apartment that was affordable and large and fully-furnished. The landlord was happy to let us have it with no references.

On Sunday morning, in t-shirt and shorts, I walked down to the 7-11 for a newspaper. The classified jobs section was as thick as a burrito.

Later that week we saw Jerry Garcia at the Keystone, a small club with a bar, good food, and a dance floor.

About two weeks later there was an earthquake. Ray and I sat swinging in our second floor apartment and grinned.

Later that year, Ray had to go back. I didn’t.

I AM LEGEND Review

The new movie version of “I Am Legend” with Will Smith is entertaining enough, but it missed the point, I thought, on what was intended when the main character declares "I am Legend."

(Spoiler Alert! Do not read further if you have yet to read the book or see the film, but plan to.)

The book: Robert Neville survived unspeakable horror, and is possibly the last human alive. He is understandably extremely depressed and suicidal. He fights back, however. He takes revenge on the new residents of Earth, in large measure. He cannot win, that's never the point, but it is unbelievably impressive what he does. He will never be forgotten. He is Legend.

In the new version, Robert figures out the antidote, and then sacrifices himself, so that the human race may still survive. He is a hero, a hollywood hero. I understand this, I know why the film makers went this way. He is a hero.

He is not Legend, however. So don't have him quote the line at the end, damn it.

Three Beautiful Things

THREE BEAUTIFUL THINGS I SAW IN LATE OCTOBER, 2007

Beautiful Thing # 2: Monday

I was upstairs, sitting at my desk in my home office, as it was my work-from-home day. Working at home allows Belen and Samantha to each have a car for themselves. Samantha has a busy day of classes on Mondays this semester.

I noticed something at the corner of my eye, so I looked up and saw a bird landing on the window sill outside. The window was open, but it is screened. It was a fairly large bird, and I did not recognize it at first. It was a woodpecker. I have never seen a woodpecker in my yard before. It was very close.

Seeing wildlife in my yard has not been an unusual occurrence. I have always found that surprising, as my yard is very small, and is closed off by the high standard redwood fence in the back.

For example, when we first moved in, you could see jack rabbits at night, long-limbed and athletic, carefully congregating on the new turf in front, under a streetlight. I imagined they enjoyed the sweet grass here so much they were willing to risk exposure.

Also in that first year I remember when Belen spotted a bright black-and-white California kingsnake in the front. It was very attractive, and I briefly captured it, but let it go.

We will get the occasional opossum. Those can give you a fright if you come across one at night!

There is no shortage of birds and insects in our tiny property. A striking dark black widow spider can always be found. There are wasps, yellow-jackets, and honeybees. (At least, there used to be bees.) Dottie (our cat) will hunt yellow praying-mantises and cellophane-winged dragonflies and leave the carcasses around the house. Mourning doves, blackbirds, scrub jays, robins, sparrows, and crows are too common to mention. One year there was a dove's nest with eggs visible, but then a cat got them. Sea gulls are always around, funny, as we are not that close to the sea. The occasional red-tailed hawk or turkey buzzard will sore overhead. A little more fun are the Stellar's jays, and their cousins, the magpies. I love the yellow meadowlark that sometimes will roost on the fence. Down the street, in the neighborhood drainage creek, you will easily spot egrets, (greater or snowy,) herons, (great-blue or green,) millions of swallows, ducks, geese, not-to-mention monster bull-frogs. Speaking of the creek, there were beavers for years, but I think the city got rid of them. If the beavers are gone, I've definitely seen woodchucks. I saw an otter once. But this was the first time I've seen a woodpecker.

It was a Flicker! A female Red-Shafted Northern Flicker. She had a pale-purplish colored head, with dark polka-dots on her breast. She clung to the sill, which really isn't a sill, just a slot for the window frame. Her beak was formidable. Very hard and sharp and long. She gave a couple of light taps to the stucco, and found it distasteful. So off she went.

Beautiful Thing # 3: Tuesday

Late on Monday I flew up to Oregon on the Air Shuttle for my job. I've been doing this more often lately. I don't like all of the time that gets wasted on these trips, and I don't like being away from home, but my present project has required it. There are some things I do enjoy about the flights, however. For example, the sights you see from the jet window. They are always interesting.

The jet is an Embraer 135, which has 37 seats. It goes from Sacramento (more specifically Mather Airport in Rancho Cordova) over to San Jose Airport, and from there, either up north to Hillsboro, Oregon (near Portland,) or southeast to Chandler, Arizona (near Phoenix.) The trip to San Jose includes a splendid view of the Central Valley. The flight from San Jose to Hillsboro usually goes up the Peninsula, over San Francisco, and then follows the Cascade mountain range through California and Oregon.

I like to identify as much of the highways, cities, towns, bodies of water, mountains, or any other landmarks as I can. This is fun. I will say things to myself like "there's Grant Line Road, I drive that all the time;" or "I've been there once;" or "that must be such-and-such road, I've never been there, but I saw it on the map."

This game takes on a different twist at night. That's when I see the freeways clearly, and the cities, due to all of the lights of course, and I apply it to the maps that I've studied. I name them as we pass: there's Galt, and Lodi, and Stockton, and Tracy; moving over the Diablo Range, now we see Livermore, and Pleasanton, and Fremont, and Milpitas. (Yes, Milpitas. "Little corn field," in Spanish.)

The San Francisco Bay Delta can be an awesome sight from the air. I try to memorize a recognizable pattern in the islands and serpentine rivers and streams, and then later, on Google Maps, I try to verify what I saw. I will exclaim: "So that was Rio Vista!" or some-such nonsense.

The South Bay area I know well, and I will get more specific on sightings. "There's the highway 880-101 interchange," I'll say, and I'll think about when we used to live near there, in an unpleasant apartment off Fourth Street." There's San Jose State University," which is very easy to spot, and then I'll think about the very clever frisbee-golf course that Kevin created back in the eighties. That was great fun, it wound through out campus, and it took a lot of skill to score even close to par.

Last week I got a kick out of spotting the Moffet Field golf course, I knew the holes well, as I've played there often. (Moffet Field is very easy to find, as the old blimp hangars are the largest buildings around.)

I won't bore you with too many more landmarks throughout the Bay Area. So many. All the bridges, of course, the Dumbarton, the San Mateo, the San Francisco Oakland Bay, the Richmond, the Carquinez (Al Zampa Memorial), and the Golden Gate.

Moving on north it's the mountains that dominate. There's seemingly a straight line of ancient volcanoes that were put here for us to follow, one after the other, it's fascinating! First comes Mt. Lassen, if you can catch it, it's not huge, nor is it pointy, since it erupted in 1915. Next is Mt. Shasta, and she is pointy, and magnificent, but her glacier is melting, and that is very noticeable. Her companion is the Medicine Lake Volcano, smaller but standing out like an witch's hat on a flat plain of ancient lava. Moving into Oregon, Mount McLoughlin is seen first. Then you notice a funny little circle, and you realize it's Crater Lake, (not really so little,) ringed with mountains, it's beautiful and strange looking from this height. Then comes the Three Sisters, wow, they're gorgeous, and amazing. Then Mt. Jefferson. Huge! And then, as you reach Portland, Mt. Hood shows who's boss. Looking farther north into Washington, you can see Mt. Adams, and another not-so-pointy mountain, why, it's Mt St. Helens.

But what was the third beautiful thing? I'm getting to that. I saw her as I was driving into the office in Hillsboro. I was turning right in a fairly busy intersection, when a large coyote crossed in front of me. She was very tall, for a coyote, I thought. Her winter coat was coming in, she looked healthy and strong. I paused, and our eyes met. She wasn't happy, but she wasn't panicked, either. She turned away, and continued across the street, and entered the area surrounding a business park.

This is not the first (or second) time a coyote has crossed directly in my path. It's happened to me in the Sacramento area. In Yellowstone, I saw many, and I spoke to one while he was hunting, causing him to pause, and look up at me. If I were an Native American, I should be named He-Who-is-Crossed-by-Coyotes.

Beautiful Thing # 1: Sunday

It was Finn, of course. Finn Thomas Scruggs, my new grandson. How can one person be so beautiful?

What We Did in 2007

Webster Trip

In January, Belen, Nathan, and myself flew back for my Mom’s 80th birthday party. This featured mainly a party in Kelly and David’s new house. Met Jack the cat. Got stuck in the snow.

Finn is here

I’m sure there will soon be many pictures forthwith. (Is that a word?)

The Great Road Trip of 2007

Nathan and I, during my sabbatical, had a very successful road trip. See separate journal, photo albums, (2), and binder of backup information. (Hard copy only, at this point.)

Candy Rock, South Yuba River

Quick day-trips this year for both of these.

Chazy Trip

Nathan and I only this time. July 31 thru August 9. We flew in to Montreal via Las Vegas. We used our passports for the first time. It was a very good trip, we saw everyone except Christine.
We visited Montreal, and especially Old Montreal, when I had an opportunity to have coffee with Jake, Sam, and Nathan.

We golfed at Wilcox Cove, of course. Went through 3 times, I was hitting this women’s wood driver amazingly well. Nathan had a lot of fun. Afterwards we visited the Burlington Brew House, or something, and also the Magic Hat brewery, kind of odd.

We had a great talent show: Diane read the Lord’s prayer in ancient Gaelic or Latin or something. Ben ran Rudy through all his tricks. I especially like the dog-catcher one. Ellen and Sally recited many original poems, they were quite excellent. Anna played the clarinet, she was very good. Cindy sang "tomorrow," wow! Nathan and Sam did a sword fight.

The fishing seemed great, (I did not fish at all,) Terry caught a huge Northern right off shore, Sam caught one later when the trolled down from the boat launch. Wally caught a 16-inch smallmouth bass, again off shore, It was delicious. Kenny later topped it with a six-pounder. (See picture.)

Nicole and Samantha should go next year.

Would you like to know about 2006? OK.

WHAT WE DID IN 2006

Lazi Fiesta 2006

Lazi-fest is always on Memorial Day. This year we went to Pine Flat Reservoir, East of Fresno. Beautiful area! Nice visit with folks, especially the Wyants.

Trip to San Luis Obispo

Belen, Nathan and myself had a relaxing, enjoyable trip to SLO. We stayed in town, at a rather plain Best Western. It worked out nice because we could drive to other places using this as a base. We discovered Avila Beach, and enjoyed it very much. We also enjoyed Morrow Rock, great beach there, great restaurants. We drove up to San Simeon and toured Hearst Castle. We visited Montana Del Oro State Park, beautiful. (Many pictures on CD.)

Camping at Collins Lake

Fun! Good swimming. I tried to catch a fish, but as usual, I came up empty.

Big Sur and Pacific Grove

This included a nice visit to Pfeiffer Big Sur SP.

Calaveras Big Trees

Nathan and I made a winter trip to the park, I can’t remember the exact date.

What We Did in 2005

Nicole’s Graduation

In May 2005, we all drove up to Rohnert Park, and attended the early ceremony at Sonoma State University. Half of the students were graduating in the morning, and the other half in the afternoon. The afternoon session included Nicole’s boyfriend Adam. It was hot and crowded, and hard to find a seat. Nathan and I climbed a tree with a good view, until a security guard made us come down. The students who played music at the beginning were entertaining, it was cool jazz.

Afterward we went out for sushi and tempura. Nicole’s friend Jenny joined us. It was delicious.

Samantha’s Graduation

Arco arena was packed with parents for Elk Grove high school graduation 2005. After a long wait, the speeches by teachers and students went on, and on, and on. Fortunately, we went out for pizza before the ceremony. Ricky, Adam, and Nicole were with us.

Swimming in the South Yuba River

Nathan and myself drove up northward to a great swimming hole in the Yuba river. It can be found by driving past Grass Valley, through Nevada City, and north on route 49. If you go the wrong way, East on route 20, you start to head up toward Truckee, which we did, and went pretty far before I realized my mistake. There were some interesting spots up there, by the way.

This was not the first time we’ve come here. It was my third time, and Nathan’s second. The last time, (in 2004,) there was a big fire in between Grass Valley and Auburn that forced us around a long way.

This is a state park, with real parking. There is a trail here that follows the river, I believe it goes all the way the Malokoff Diggings State Park. It is a great place to swim, and can get crowded, and there is danger. This was proven in 2005, as someone drowned upriver while we were there. We did not witness it, but we watched the helicopter come in, and we saw the body. See the pictures, and the news article I included after this text.

SF Giants Game

On Saturday July 23, Belen, Nathan and I drove to San Francisco and finally went to the new ball park. It was great fun. We had a nice dinner right across the street from the park. It was Gaylord Perry day, and before the game there was a ceremony that featured Perry, (66 years old,) Willie Mays, Juan Marichal, Felipe Alou, Matty Alou, Orlando Cepeda and Willie McCovey.

Wow!

For more info, see article below from SFGate dot com.

Candy Rock, with Nathan

Nathan and I had a nice day trip to the rock. This was earlier in the year than I usually go, so the water was cold. I got some nice shots with my new camera.

Business Trip to Denver

This was for an sales training event for my job. Interesting airport. The Rocky Mountains could be seen in the distance, across a flat plain. The downtown area was nice, and very clean.

Poker in Chico

We had poker at Dave’s, so before the game, we all rented some inner tubes and floated down the Sacramento River. In preparation, we had lunch at a river-side dive called Scottie’s. I’ve swum in the Sacramento before, it is always cold. Yes, there are pictures. We planned to do this again next year.

(Too bad, Dave is moving to Oregon.)

Candy Rock 2005

Kevin and I were the only ones to spend the night this year. This will be remembered for the time when Kevin’s luggage was lost, so he had to buy new gear. Pictures, of course.

Yosemite, with Nathan

This was a great trip, just Nathan and I. We brought our bicycles. We stayed at Curry Village in a tent cabin (which is in Yosemite Valley). We hiked to Vernal Falls, and while at the top, we saw a crew carrying down an injured hiker. The pool at the top of the falls is gorgeous, I understand why folks are tempted to swim here, and sometimes drown.

We took the tour bus up to Glacier Point, my first time up here. The best view ever. We hiked down, which was one of the best hikes of my life. Wow. Later in our trip, we drove up Tioga road, and hiked out of White Wolf, and swam in Harden Lake. It was lovely. The next day, we hung out at a secluded spot near El Capitan, and swam in the Merced River.

We hiked to Lower Yosemite Falls, watched a climber on a cliff, and had a great dinner at the lodge (I had prime rib). Our table was against a picture window with a view of the falls. Sweet.

Are there pictures? Oh yes.

Poker at Rob’s

This was in a warm month, I can’t remember when exactly. I went Santa Cruz beach before the game, which is something I’ve enjoyed doing in the past. I hung out by the surfers near the lighthouse, and watched some otters.

Visiting Kevin and Lisa

Belen, Nathan and myself flew up to Portland, Oregon to visit the McLeods. They live in Camas, Washington, which is about twenty minutes away across the bridge from Portland Airport. They live on the Columbia River and have a great house with a huge deck that offers an unbelievable view of Oregon, including Mount Hood. I like to hang out on that porch. Last year, I enjoyed a violent lightning and hail storm from there. Kevin and Lisa showed us all around, we saw a lot in a short period of time.

We went to downtown Portland and enjoyed the open-air street market-flea market thing. There are many delicious things to eat from all over the world. There is also a lot of art.
We drove down through the Columbia River Gorge. This is Lewis and Clark country, and it was the Lewis and Clark anniversary! We drove along route 14 in Washington, and went to a fantastic brunch at the Scamania Lodge. We continued East through the gorge, crossing the bridge to Hood River in Oregon. We stopped, went swimming, and watched the many wind-surfers and kite-surfers. Turning East, we visited Multnoma Falls and Crown Point, two beautiful places to see.

We went to a street fair in Vancouver, Oregon before returning home.

Training in San Jose

The was a leadership training event that went for 4 days and nights in South San Jose. It was held at Hayes Mansion in South San Jose, next to Edenview Park off Monterey highway. I had never heard of this place before, even though I used to live not far away from here.

Music 2005

My interest in Nine Inch Nails reached an apex in 2005 when I twice went to see them. Both times they were joined by Queens of the Stone Age. The first show was at Arco Arena, and the second was at Oakland Arena. Evelyn and I also traveled to Oakland Arena to see Weezer and Foo Fighters. Very memorable was a holiday performance by Nickle Creek at the Warfield in San Francisco.

My favorite bluegrass band is Nickel Creek. They sing sad, intimate songs about love lost. Their sound often challenges the boundaries of typical bluegrass, there is an intensity, and a teenage-angst quality that I normally associate with rock. I was listening to their most recent album, Why Should the Fire Die,? and one song stood out for me, "Tomorrow is a Long Time," but then I realized it was a Bob Dylan song. Sarah Watkins sings it in a way that just breaks my heart.

See below.

Christmas Rain

There was too much rain in a short amount of time, which nearly caused some flooding. You can see in the photo the Tower Bridge and Sacramento Marina.

APPENDICES

Holiday keeps officers busy

Officials tackle drowning, rash of DUI arrests
BY DAVID MIRHADI, davidm@theunion.comJuly 6, 2005
Local law enforcement agencies were busy cleaning up Tuesday after a long holiday weekend that included a half-dozen injury car accidents, a fight that left two men recovering from their injuries at area hospitals and Nevada County's first drowning on the South Yuba River this year.A 33-year-old Sacramento man drowned Monday as he and a friend swam approximately 1 1/2 miles upstream from the Highway 49 bridge, Nevada County Sheriff's Lt. Ron Smith said. The drowning victim apparently got caught in a channel and went underwater just before 2 p.m.Smith said bystanders attempted to administer CPR before crews from California State Parks summoned a California Highway Patrol helicopter to pull the victim to safety. Smith said the victim, whose name was not released Tuesday pending notification of relatives, was pronounced dead at the scene.It was at least the second time in less than two months that rescue crews have had to pull someone from the swift south fork of the Yuba River, said Mike Stewart, a water rescue expert with Nevada County Consolidated Fire District. A 17-year-old girl, who survived, was pulled out of the river above Washington during Memorial Day weekend.Stewart, who serves as the town of Washington's volunteer fire chief, has been performing and teaching water rescues for several years."The water is deceptive," he said, "and the river's risk is always there. It's not always flow-related."Stewart said the long winter and subsequent rapid snowmelt has made the popular waterway especially dangerous this year, after many years of below-average flows. "I love the river, but you have to understand it," he said. While kayakers and rafters generally come prepared with life jackets, Stewart said the opposite is often true for those who enjoy the river for an afternoon."They don't come to the river to wear a life jacket," he said. "It might ruin their sun tan."Stewart pointed out that he wasn't sure of the Sacramento drowning victim's circumstances."The river is beautiful. You just have to understand its risks," Stewart said.As rescue crews manned the rivers, the California Highway Patrol responded to a half-dozen vehicle accidents between Friday and Monday evening, according to CHP officer George Kirbyson.One of the accidents occurred at approximately 1 a.m. Saturday, as 18-year-old Mitchell Utley of Grass Valley drove his Jeep Cherokee northbound along Gracie Road, north of Big Blue Road near Nevada City.According to the CHP, Utley lost control of his vehicle, struck an embankment and overturned. Utley suffered a broken wrist and a large bump on his forehead. Utley, who was not wearing a seat belt at the time of the accident, was treated at Sierra Memorial Hospital and released. Kirbyson said the Highway Patrol is investigating the accident.A total of 11 people were arrested for drunken driving during the holiday weekend, Kirbyson said.The figure represents just more than 25 percent of the total number of people booked into Wayne Brown Correctional Facility during the weekend.Nevada County Sheriff's deputies were also trying to sort through details of an altercation early Sunday between a 19-year-old and a 17-year-old who were both taken to area hospitals after a fight broke out in Nevada City.According to Sheriff's Sgt. Joe Salivar, 19-year-old Ryan Fanning was airlifted to Sutter Roseville Medical Center after he was reportedly drifting in and out of consciousness following at the end of an altercation at Red Tail Hawk Road in Nevada City.A 17-year-old juvenile also suffered injuries to his wrist, hands and face and was admitted to Sierra Nevada Memorial Hospital, Salivar said.No arrests had been made as of late Tuesday, Salivar said, adding that witnesses were still being interviewed.oooTo contact staff writer David Mirhadi, e-mail davidm@theunion.com or call 477-4229. The Union's Brittany Retherford contributed to this story.http://www.theunion.com/article/20050706/NEWS/107060088

Giants Retire Gaylord Perry's Jersey

By JANIE McCAULEY, AP Sports Writer
Saturday, July 23, 2005

(07-23) 19:40 PDT SAN FRANCISCO, (AP) --
Gaylord Perry still jokes about his infamous spitball and how much it contributed to his decorated career.
The San Francisco Giants retired the jersey of the Hall of Fame right-hander Saturday night, the 10th player or manager to have their number retired in the club's 123-year history and the first since Orlando Cepeda in 1999.
"It was between me and Juan Marichal, and they took me," Perry said.
Still quite the jokester, Perry earlier spoke of how he once tried silicone on his hands. When he thought about what it's typically used for, he said he couldn't concentrate on his work.
So, he stuck to his usual.
"I'd put Vaseline on my hands and shake the opponents' hands the night before I pitched," Perry said. "They'd say, 'What are you doing?' and I'd say, 'I'm just getting ready for tomorrow night.'"
The 66-year-old Perry posted 314 victories in a 22-year career with eight teams, the first 10 with the Giants. He pitched one of 17 no-hitters in franchise history Sept. 17, 1968, against the St. Louis Cardinals and Cy Young Award winner Bob Gibson at Candlestick Park.
"What an honor," Perry said following a warm standing ovation. He played for the Giants from 1962-1971.
With streamers and balloons, his No. 36 was unfurled above the second deck of bleachers in left field, between the No. 30 of Cepeda and Willie McCovey's No. 44 — two more Giants' Hall of Famers of his era. Highlights of Perry's career played on the big screen on the main scoreboard in center field.
"Gaylord, how would you have liked to pitch in this ballpark? What a delight," said Mike McCormick, who along with his former teammates presented Perry with a framed plaque of his jersey.
Perry's number decorated the grass in foul territory along the first- and third-base lines, and the first 20,000 fans received a bobblehead of his likeness.
Perry, a five-time All-Star, was the first pitcher to win the Cy Young Award in both leagues, and he posted four 20-win seasons.
"I never saw a spitball," said Giants manager Felipe Alou, who played with Perry in San Francisco and in winter ball. "He didn't throw it to me, maybe out of friendship. The times I faced Gaylord, he threw a slider, a fastball, a curveball — and it was enough to get me out. ...
"He is a legitimate Hall of Famer. He was a tremendous pitcher since the day they signed him."
Alou recalled when Perry pitched some 120 innings in winter ball for the Escogido team in the Dominican Republic. He would take the ball on two days' rest if necessary, Alou said.
"He would knock his brother down if it meant getting somebody out," said McCormick, the NL Cy Young Award winner in 1967.
About a dozen of Perry's former teammates were on hand for the tribute — including Willie Mays, Marichal, Felipe Alou, Matty Alou, Cepeda and McCovey. Perry slapped hands with each of them when introduced, then tipped his cap and waved to the crowd.
One thing hasn't changed.
"I still hate the Dodgers, yes," Perry said. "As soon as (Tommy) Lasorda gets to heaven, he's going to see God has pinstripes instead of Dodger Blue."
Perry retired after the 1983 season and received a large jar of Vaseline from one umpire.

Tomorrow is a Long Time (Dylan)

If today was not an endless highway,If tonight was not a crooked trail,If tomorrow wasn't such a long time,Then lonesome would mean nothing to you at all.Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',Only if she was lyin' by me,Then I'd lie in my bed once again.
I can't see my reflection in the waters,I can't speak the sounds that show no pain,I can't hear the echo of my footsteps,Or can't remember the sound of my own name.Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',Only if she was lyin' by me,Then I'd lie in my bed once again.
There's beauty in the silver, singin' river,There's beauty in the sunrise in the sky,But none of these and nothing else can touch the beautyThat I remember in my true love's eyes.Yes, and only if my own true love was waitin',Yes, and if I could hear her heart a-softly poundin',Only if she was lyin' by me,Then I'd lie in my bed once again.

Chazy 2004

WHAT I DID ON SUMMER VACATION
By Michael L. Brown

INTRODUCTION

In the summer of 2004 we had a vacation trip to Chazy. It was not our first trip to Chazy, and I had been there many times growing up, but this trip was special. Not that there were any major events this trip, there weren’t, but everything seemed to unfold just right. It seemed especially sharp, clear, and vital, and I want to remember it. It is a landmark in my life that is helping me understand where I’ve been, and where I’m going.

Chazy (pronounced SHAY zee,) is a small town in the far northeast corner of New York State. It is named for the French Captain M. de Chazy, who, in 1666, while on an expedition to the Mohawk-controlled western side of Lake Champlain, found himself on the business-end of a chief’s tomahawk. Chazy is in an area bordered on the north by Canada, on the west by the Adirondack Mountains, on the south by the City of Plattsburgh, New York, and to the east by beautiful Lake Champlain and then the State of Vermont.

No one in my family actually lives in Chazy, but we have a pair of small cottages on a strip of lakeshore property. One is a tumble-down two-story affair that has definitely seen better days. It can sleep ten or so, as long as many of those are kids, and it has a working kitchen and a half-bathroom. The plumbing is a pretty shaky, and you can’t drink the water, it’s pumped from the lake. The place does have a very comfy screened-in porch with antique rocking chairs and a large dining table with benches. There are two unfinished bedrooms upstairs, and the stairs are the type that don’t seem to go quite straight, and are squeaky in a ghost-house-at-night kind of way. This house is known as the upper (or white) cottage, and is across the main road, a hundred yards or more from the lake.

The lower (or red) cottage is smaller, and newer, being only 45 years old or so. It is a cozy two-bedroom bungalow with a roofed and windowed porch. I has a real kitchen, hot water, and a shower. It features a lovely view of Lake Champlain and the rocky shore, and in the distance, the Green Mountains of Vermont.

For me, describing "camp" (as my Mother calls it,) and doing it justice, is very difficult. There are many memories that need to be considered. Happy, positive, intimate memories, they fuel the warm-fuzzies that I always get when I think about Chazy.

My brother, two sisters, and mother have more memories than I, because for the most part, they go to Chazy every summer. I have only made it to camp around five times since I moved to California, twenty-five years ago, and at that, only a week or so at a time. My brother Wally’s memories of Chazy would easily be over twice that of my own, he goes to camp numerous times each year. He is the primary caretaker. Heck, his lovely wife Edie has probably passed me in time at Chazy. Wally and Edie have raised kids on Chazy, the oldest of which (Chrissie) is twenty-five years old.

WEDNESDAY

So our trip was to last from July 28 until August 7. On Wednesday the 28th, Nathan, Samantha, and myself flew from Sacramento into Burlington, Vermont, and rented a car. Belen and Nicole were scheduled to fly in on Sunday. We had plenty of daylight left, so there was no rush. Vermont was warm and sunny, a bit humid, and very green: green grass, green forests, and green attitude. The airport was nice and clean, with a small exit street that led immediately into a peaceful residential area. This was the first time I have used the Burlington airport, and I was immediately glad I did.

We headed North on route 89 for twenty minutes, exiting in a north-westerly direction at a sign that read "Lake Champlain Islands, New York State Ferry." I was excited, I really enjoy taking the ferry across Lake Champlain. The road to the ferry was full of beautiful white houses with huge, well groomed lawns, (actually the lawns were more like fields), post-card farms, and old-fashioned villages. Closer to the lake we began to see vacation homes and people riding bikes, picnicking at the state park, fishing, sailing, and swimming.

This kind of scenery does wonders for your mood!

After a short wait, we cruised onto the ferry and headed toward Plattsburgh, it takes a leisurely twenty minutes or so. I like to get out of the car and stand at the edge of the boat so I can feel the cool breeze and spray of water on my face. The lake had a familiar clean, fresh smell that I love.

On the New York side we cruised up the ramp and headed along Cumberland point, turning right to Chazy on Route Nine, another twenty minutes to the North. Soon we were at camp having dinner with the gang, including the Brown-Steiners, (they were all there: Diane, Terry, Ben, Jake, and Sammie), the Vermont-Browns, (Wally, Edie, Cindy, and Anna were there, Chrissie, Ellen, Kenny, and Theresa would be visiting later), Kelly, and of course, Mom. Kelly would only be around for a couple of nights, and her hubby David was not able to make it this year. This wasn’t too tragic, as Kelly and David had just visited us in Sacramento the previous Fall.

One additional family member that we met for the first time is Diane’s cute and energetic little dog, Rudy. Rudy is a toy-border-collie mix of some sort, mostly white with black and tan marks. His fur is a little long and fine and soft, and he likes to be held, like a cat. His face is sweet, but his black eyes are devilish. He could also have been named Zippy, for the way he streaks zigzag and curve-swerve all over the place. Rudy is very fun to play with. For example, he loves to play tag, and if you chase him around the house, he’ll lap you in a flash, and then lap you again. Diane has him doing cool tricks like "bang," you’re dead, dancing-on-your-hind-legs, and even singing. We all fell in love with him immediately.

After a breakfast-dinner, we got reacquainted and settled in. The kids sure had grown. Ben was all grown up. Jake was right behind him, he had changed a lot since I saw him last. Wow, Sammie was big, too, he was soon going to sixth grade. My brother-in-law Terry had lost a lot of weight and looked great.

When I got there Terry presented me with a package of pins that he had found on E-Bay. They were small and round, and said things like "I love Lake Champlain" or "Champ Lives," which is a reference to the legendary monster of the lake who is very similar to the one in Loch Ness. There was also a couple small fish pins: a Northern Pike, and a Walleye (one of my brother’s nicknames). Diane also gave me a binder full of photocopies of old sketches and doodles I had made in my youth. I hadn’t seem them in a long time, and it was fun to be reminded how strange I was. Some would say I’m still just as strange today.

THURSDAY

The next day we had fun. Mostly, we went swimming. I helped Wally put the dock in, which I enjoyed, as it was the first time I’ve ever done it. It rained a little and was humid. Terry always has something fun going, so today, he produced a new kid’s archery set, which he set up in the back yard, at the edge of what used to be an apple orchard. He attached some targets to some hay bales. Nathan loved it. Later that evening, I taught the guys how to play Texas Hold ‘em. My mother thought it was ridiculous way to play poker. This was interesting as the person who had first taught me poker was her big sister, Madeline Walsh.

Terry is a great guy, but he seems to be afflicted with a condition that does not allow him to pass up used stuff for sale. Now, it seems that the next day, Friday, was the date of an annual event in a nearby town in which half the residents have a garage sale on the same day. This is something Terry will not miss.

One thing that Wally and Edie did throughout the visit was to make sure every one of their kids, at one time or another, were at Chazy. This meant a lot of driving: over to Burlington to get Ellen and Sally (her significant-other), out somewhere hours away to get Chrissie and Ken, back to Chester to pick up Theresa and her boyfriend, etc. This kind of selflessness really made to visit special for us.

FRIDAY

The garage-sale expedition to the town of Altona had been planned. To make it more interesting, we planned a contest based on the things we may buy at the garage sales. There will be a competition for the most useless object, the most outrageous object, and the funniest object. Most of us piled into a few cars and headed west. It was a nice day, and the drive featured a two-lane road through deep green forests. Many of the garage sales were of a very rural nature, happening in old musty barns, front yards of farm houses, sheds, porches, and even garages. When we got into the center of town, the choices improved. The fire department served up some delicious michigan-style hot dogs and french fries. While we were eating, the sky opened up, and torrential rains came. It poured for the rest of the afternoon, and we got drenched, but it was not cold, and it did not ruin the fun we were having.

That night, objects were submitted for judging. The most memorable item was a weird, tacky-looking lamp, that seemed normal at first, until you noticed that instead of having a standard plug at the end of it’s cord, it had an audio jack.

SATURDAY

On Saturday morning I had a good time working on the shore. I was trying to build up the rocks on the side close to the boat house. I remembered that when I was a kid, I would often go this way to get to the lake, but now it was grown over and inaccessible. I found some large logs in the grove and used them to form some very primitive stairs, and then I tried to pile up as many rocks as I could. It needs a lot more work, however. I wonder when I’ll have a chance to finish the job.

Eddie and Wally are always busy with this kind of upkeep on the property. For example, Edie spent many hours clearing the brush along the driveway, which was very overgrown. There is a grass space on the side of the unpaved driveway that is a nice place to walk. It is bordered by a high wire fence, and limbs, branches, and brush grow through the fence, blocking the footpath. This includes fresh blackberries in the summer. There are nice gardens at the end of the footpath near the lake, and a beautiful rock wall that was built by my father (and others, I think). I remember gardens and flowers going all along it at one time. Edie did a great job, I wonder if she has to do this every year.

Watching Edie, I realized something that seems obvious now. There is a cedar grove that follows along the drive, between the two camps. My "kid" memory of the grove was of evenly spaced pines and cedars, with wide spaces of soft needles in between. There was also a few apple trees on the western edge. One could easily stroll through the grove, playing, shooting bows and arrows, shooting BB guns, chasing red or gray squirrels, you know, regular stuff, even camping out in sleeping bags. It was fun to walk though on hot days to cool off, or to creep through slowly at night. Today, if you go in the grove, it is filled with dense brush. You can’t really pass through easily, let alone play anything. I understand now that my grandmother had to keep it cleared. I can see her in my mind’s eye, holding her long-handled clippers, walking through the grove, cutting any small, sprouting trees or other plants. I did not appreciate what she had been doing, in fact I remember wondering why she went through so much trouble.

Youth is wasted on the young.

On lazy Chazy days like this, a common sight is my sister Diane hanging around shore, hunting for fossils. You can see her with her safety goggles on, sitting on large rocks, pounding on small rocks with her hammer. She always finds a fossil. More often than not, it is some sort of old trilobite from the Paleozoic Era, hundreds of millions of years old. She finds them seemingly very easily. This fact really bugs my other sister Kelly, in a way I imagine to be very similar to how Wally catching large fish easily really bugs me.

When Diane finds cool stuff, she loves to share it with others, often the kids, and will get in close and explain things very clearly, and you can’t help but get interested. She has a way about her, a way of talking and presenting on a subject that she’s interested in, or important in some way, it’s infectious. She would make an excellent teacher.

SUNDAY

Sunday was a big day. The guys were going to play golf in Vermont. There were tons of golf clubs to choose from, Terry had the garage in the upper cottage well-stocked with used clubs. Nathan, Sammie, Jacob, Ben, Terry, Kenny, Wally, and myself were going. We got up very early and drove north to Rouses Point, and turned east across the bridge to Vermont. The first town was Rutland, where we stopped at Kay’s for breakfast. Kay’s is a small diner and is the only restaurant in Rutland. It was in a building that I think used to be a house. The food was outstanding. The pancakes were as big as frisbees and as thick as a woman’s magazine. Mine were blueberry, spread with butter, and covered with real Vermont maple syrup. I could only eat about a third of them. My bacon was almost the same cut as my belt, but crunchy.
Fortunately, there was hot strong black coffee to rinse it down with. Sammie kept cracking me up with his impersonations. He did Gollum from the Lord of the Rings, and a hilarious hip-hop ghetto gangster. I walked very slowly to the car after that meal.

On our way again, we turned south from Rutland, following the islands of Lake Champlain under a sunny blue sky. Crossing bridges and traveling serpentine two-lane highways, we passed gorgeous resorts, marinas, and antique shops. We drove through North Hero, Vermont, and I wanted to stop, buy a home, and never leave. Crossing over to Grand Isle, we soon found ourselves at Wilcox Cove Golf Course. This is a short 9-hole course that is just a big rectangle of rolling green fairway that has nine golf holes zigzagging across it. You had better stay alert, because balls are flying at you all of the time. We played in two groups, and Nathan had a great first golfing experience. He did very well and had a blast. Wally is a pretty good golfer and I think he had the best scores, but Terry and his boys did well also. They have been doing this every year for a while now, including years ago with my father, when he was still alive.

Wilcox Cove is right on the lake, very close to the ferry that we had taken on Wednesday. It is beautiful setting for golf. After two rounds, we sat on lawn chairs at the top of a bluff, right next to some cute white cottages that are available to rent. We chowed-down on sandwiches and beer that Terry had thankfully prepared earlier. It was hot, and we were very sunburned. The beer was absorbed quickly. That did it for me, I fell asleep on my chair, watching beautiful and silent sail-boats and white sea gulls glide back and forth on the lake.

Instead of returning back to Chazy with the group, I had to continue on to Burlington to pick up Nicole and Belen. Their flight came in at around 5, and I was in and out in no time. I took my ladies back across the ferry and we were back in Chazy by 7.

MONDAY

Belen and I went fishing on Monday. It was nothing spectacular, but nice. We took the good boat (a yellow three-seated fiberglass row-boat equipped with a small outboard motor) out on the lake, half way to Vermont, and dropped anchor. We fished with borrowed tackle, lowering our fat night-crawlers just off the bottom. We caught many perch, and one bass, but they were all too small to keep. We also caught a bunch of rays, and I turned red. I said to Belen, "Gosh, I guess the fish in Lake Champlain are just much smaller than they were when I was a kid."
Later that week, Wally went out and brought back a huge string of big fat perch and bass and I don’t know what else. I hate him. We did have a delicious breakfast the next day, though.
Terry was very busy completing some projects that had been in process for a while. The first project was the launching of a couple of swimming platforms. In a previous summer, he and the guys had attempted to build a platform built on steel drums. Unfortunately, it had proved to be too tipsy. This year he built a stout wooden frame around a base of Styrofoam. This fairly heavy object measured about five feet by four feet by one foot, and was man-handled down to the shore, set adrift, and anchored in about six feet of water. There was also a square-bottomed boat of some kind that was turned upside-down, and upon which two lawn chairs fit perfectly. The kids had a marvelous time swimming around, swimming under, climbing upon, tipping over, and jumping off these rafts. Rudy enjoyed hanging out on these rafts as well (or maybe he didn’t).

Another beautiful but very sad project this summer was the great Brown-Steiner Chazy tree-house. Terry had for years dreamed of building a tree-house for his boys. People get busy, though, you know how it is, and there is always next year. Well, in 2004, Ben (the oldest) was ready for college, and would be moving out. This might be the last chance. So, even though Ben and Jake (and for that matter, Samantha, Nicole, Theresa, Kenny, Cindy, Chrissie, and Ellen) were probably too old to really enjoy it, the tree-house was constructed. Sammie, Nathan, and Anna sure loved it. And besides, whenever I climbed the ladder, and sat in one of the lawn chairs that were included, I felt like a kid again.

The tree house was essentially a platform shaped like a closed bracket: ]. It was over six feet off the ground, and maybe twice that in overall length. There were several trees used to support this platform, (four or five, I’m not sure), and it was hidden in a small but familiar stand of cedars close to shore, behind the old pump-house. The platform had strong railings all around built of two-by-fours, and both of the bracket-ends broadened out into triangle shapes that were like a little rooms where chairs and tree-house furniture was placed. A ladder went up to one of these ends for the entrance and exit (although Nathan had a secret back-door that he could climb). The platform was carpeted for extra comfort. The pièce de résistance however was the long length of rope lighting that was wound about the tree-house and surrounding branches.
You could stand on the tree-house and look through the trees, out across the lake, and in the evening the cool wind felt fine. The tree-house could not be seen, however, from anywhere outside the stand of cedars. It was hidden, and secret. Unless, of course, the light rope was plugged in, in which case there was a lovely lacey christmacy glow through the trees, and it complemented the fireflies that normally abound in the fields of Chazy at dusk.

Now that tree house did not suck. I’ll never forget it.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t secret enough, nor was it built on our property. Later that summer, when we were all at our regular homes, the offspring of the owner of the property upon which it was built, found it.

The treehouse was completely destroyed.

TUESDAY

On Tuesday, I was determined to catch a fish that I had seen earlier in the week. It was a huge Sheephead, pink and fat with a big forehead and evil eyes. I had first noticed him while snorkeling, and I had followed him around the dock for a while. He was not scared of me. He acted as if he owned the place. Well, today I planned to show him who’s boss.

I grabbed my snorkel and face mask. I also grabbed the over-sized fishing net with the long, aluminum handle. This monster net was huge, the mouth was over two feet in diameter. As I lowered myself down at the end of the dock, I wondered if I was going to be able to find my friend.

There he was, right in front of me, waiting. I am not making this up. He just stared, spinning his pathetic little fore fins, and I swear if he could have stuck out his tongue and made a raspberry, he would have. I felt a little uneasy, I’ve never seen a fish act like this before.
I held my net underwater in front of me and slowly crept closer. Sheep-brain just sat there. When I judged myself to be close enough, I stabbed my net out and down, really fast. The sheephead simply swam out of the way. He didn’t take off, he swam a little way out but then stopped and came back. I tried again. The same thing happened. Sheepie laughed, I swear to God. Soon, after several similar attempts, he got bored, and swam away. I never saw him again.
Some day I’m going to get that sucker.

Later that evening, we all went out to eat at Gus’ in Plattsburgh. Gus’ is known for its Michigan Red-hots. I had two dogs, smothered in michigan sauce and onions. Michigan sauce is made with ground beef finely ground again in the blender or processor and mixed with special seasonings. It was great, even Mom came along. It took several tables to hold us. Afterwards we went to the mall and took in a movie (M. Night Shyamalan’s "The Village.") We all had a great time.

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday our adventure was to be a trip to Montreal. Terry talked us into it, he really was excited to go. We took two cars, and drove up north through Rouses Point and into Quebec. We got on the freeway and it began to rain. At times it really came down. We used walkie-talkies to keep in touch with each other. Soon we were in the big city, crossing a bridge high over the Fleuve St Laurent and into Old Montreal. We had a long rainy but fun walk through town, stopping at many shops and galleries. The streets in this district were cobblestone, and it seemed we were in an earlier era. The group continued on all the way to china town, where we dined in a buffet place that Terry and Wally had frequented before. They had every type of asian food you could imagine.

Afterward, we drove to the center of the city and up the hill to the Parc Mont-Royal. What a beautiful place! We parked at the Camillien-Houde lookout, which offered an impressive view Northward, including the Olympic Village. We then hiked up a long stair and through the forest to the Chalet and the Chalet lookout, a huge stone building and plaza offering a breathtaking southeast panorama of downtown Montreal.

We got home very late that night, and we were very exhausted. But what a day!

THURSDAY

Thursday, I wanted to go for a drive to Vermont, but I didn’t have a particular destination in mind. I talked Belen, Nathan, and Sammie into going with me. We had a late start, and by the time we got to Rouses Point, we were already hungry for lunch. We stopped at a small snack bar and scarfed some fantastic slices of pizza. We then headed across the bridge and drove east, passing many tourist trap antique stores and snack bars. We eventually found ourselves in St Albans.

St. Albans Vermont is a lovely town. There was an old-fashioned town square with a park surrounded by some beautiful churches and museums. There were great gift shops, we bought some excellent organically made maple syrup, (the best I’d ever had, actually,) there was a great candy store, and we stopped at a nice coffee shop for a pick-me-up cup of joe.

From St. Albans, we turned back toward Lake Champlain and to St. Albans Bay. We followed the road toward the tip of St. Alban’s point, and to Kill Kare State Park. The park is named for a summer camp for boys, which operated on this site for some fifty years through the mid-1900s. It is a beautiful spot. We could see old pictures of the boys in the three-story building at the center of the park. It was built in the 1870s and operated as a summer resort hotel until about 1900, when the boys' camp was founded. We had a nice swim at the beach before heading back.
Passing back through St. Albans, on the way to the freeway, we passed a high ridge that featured an observatory at the top. It was made up of three white round domes. I recognized it as the mountain you can see from the red cottage, looking straight out across the lake. I always wanted to come here!

FRIDAY

Friday we stayed home and had a quiet day. I drove down Lakeshore drive and looked at homes that were marked for sale. There was some beautiful stuff available, right down the road, or closer to Plattsburgh. I fantasized about coming here on a regular basis. I just have to make a little more money, how hard could that be? Yeah, right.

I tried out the kayak’s that Terry had rented. They were a blast! You use muscles you are not used to using, but you zip around and cover some good distance. Anna did circles around me, I wondered how does she do that?

That night, we had a big fire at the shore. There were drinks, and smores, and Cuban cigars from Montreal. The stars were bright and the moon hung low over the lake. There were many very scary stories told.

SATURDAY

Saturday was a heart-breaking day for me. Packing everything up didn’t take long. (I can’t for the life of me understand how the Brown-Steiners and Mom could fit everything in their cars.) We helped break down things and put stuff away. Some were leaving today, like us, some were staying until tomorrow. I felt awkward, and in the way, I couldn’t stand it. This gets worse every time. Driving away, I felt sick, I wanted to throw up.

What a great trip this year. I can’t wait to come back. Hopefully next time we’ll have more time, and a little less rain, but it will be tough to top the summer of 2004.

L’Enfant leads back to The Son

This is a follow-up to my previous entry about Roger Ebert’s review of L’Enfant. I have not seen L’Enfant yet, because in reading the review, I learned that there is an earlier film by the Dardenne brothers, (Jean-Pierre and Luc), called The Son. (The Dardenne’s are from Belgium and speak French.)

One thing I really appreciate in Ebert’s reviews is that he bends over backwards not to spoil the plot of a film. I agree with this approach. So, I had an idea of why Ebert, at one point in the review of The Son, tells us to stop reading. We are told to go out immediately and watch the film. I was a little surprised by this. I had never heard him so directly tell me to “absolutely,” “today, tonight,” drop everything and see it. So I unhesitantly followed his direction (yes, I used NetFlix, added it to my queue, bumped it to the top of the line, and watched it as soon as it came.)

Now I have finished the review. Wow! This is one of those (not so rare) times when I agree whole-heartedly. Now I can’t wait to see L’Enfant.