The Tuesday weld...

How 3M concealed the dangers of forever chemicals.

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The case for eating at Italian Gas Stations.

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What's the old saying? What's a conservative? A liberal who has been mugged.

Here's a good one; a progressive district attorney is fighting for his job in Portland. Apparently liberals aren't so keen any more on rampant homelessness and being soft on the criminals who are making their life hell.

“All of my lefty neighbors who want to do right thing are like, fuck it, this is not working,” Dwight Holton, a Democrat and former U.S. attorney.

Here, here. Rational democrats around the country need to wake up to the fact that liberal district atorneys like you have in New York, Alameda, Oakland and Los Angeles will drive a lot of good people (and merchants) out of their party. You can't baby violent criminals and try to rationalize their behavior. You need to put them in jail. Or in the hospital, like this Albuquerque woman did. I liked this comment:

Her fault was firing only once.

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Jill Crawford sent this from Monocle, should be a wake up call:

The new nine-to-five: missile building

One obviously doffs one’s cap to the intelligence services of North Korea only reluctantly: nevertheless, it has to be conceded that one enterprising spook has earned a bonus turnip. The US State Department has acknowledged that North Korean IT workers, borrowing the identities of US citizens, have been securing remote working contracts with hundreds of American companies – earning millions of dollars, which have been ploughed into North Korea’s missile programmes. Five people have now been arrested in the US, accused of facilitating the undeniably ingenious scheme.

The scam has partly been possible due to a shortage of technology workers (weird, considering the six-figure salaries that the North Koreans were reportedly earning). But it’s also a lesson in the laziness and sloppiness that can be encouraged by technology itself: in-person job interviews would have forestalled this swindle. During the remote-working boom, employers often complained that they didn’t know whether their employees were working. They should now be concerned about who their employees are.

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Sieg Heil! And how about a third term?

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Lawyers found classified docs in Trump’s bedroom 4 months after Mar-a-Lago search - Politico

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Biting the hand...

 The headline is pretty dire, U.N. halting food aid to Rafah.

The evil Israelis are obviously at it again.

But then you dig a little deeper into the subject in the Reuters article.

Senior U.N. aid official Edem Wosornu said there were insufficient supplies and fuel to provide any meaningful level of support to the people of Gaza as they endure Israel's military onslaught against Hamas militants.

"We are running out of words to describe what is happening in Gaza. We have described it as a catastrophe, a nightmare, as hell on earth. It is all of these, and worse," she said.

She told the U.N. Security Council that the closure of Rafah crossing from Egypt had stopped the delivery of at least 82,000 metric tonnes of supplies, while access at Israel's Kerem Shalom crossing was limited due to "hostilities, challenging logistical conditions, and complex coordination procedures."

So access to Kerem Shalom is limited. Why is that? Could it have anything to do with the fact that Hamas sent fourteen missiles into the checkpoint recently and killed three Israelis and wounded countless others? Isn't that literally biting the hand that is trying to feed you?

And there is this:

The U.N. said that 10 truckloads of food aid - transported from the pier site by U.N. contractors - were received on Friday at a World Food Programme warehouse in Deir El Balah in Gaza.

But on Saturday, only five truckloads made it to the warehouse after 11 others were cleaned out by Palestinians during the journey through an area that a U.N. official said has been hard to access with humanitarian aid.

"They've not seen trucks for a while," a U.N. official, speaking on condition of anonymity, told Reuters. "They just basically mounted on the trucks and helped themselves to some of the food parcels." 

Am I reading this right? Half the food has been stolen by the Palestinians before it reaches its target. 

Those damn Israelis...

Titanic

Palos Verdes Antique Show & Sale

I hope that my friends in the Los Angeles area can join me at this show next week. It is held in an Episcopal church.

This will be the second year that I have exhibited. Nice little boutique show, the only one left in the Los Angeles area.

Taj Mahal

How can we miss you if you won't go away?

The Grateful Dead cover band that is known as Dead & Co. has opened up a vaunted new residency at the Sphere in Las Vegas.

This is sort of funny since it seems like only yesterday they were engaged in a much ballyhooed farewell tour.

Now you can say that many bands indulge in perpetual farewell tours, it is a great way to make bank, I know, I know. 

The Grateful Dead were not every band. They stood for integrity, or they did when Jerry was alive anyway. He assuredly would not have allowed his band to pull this sort of crap.

But as we know, this is not the Grateful Dead, not even close. There are two extant members of the Grateful Dead in the band, arguably the two that were the least creative musically.

You now get the rhythm guitarist with the damaged vocal cords and the rudimental drummer. What was it that Greg Allman once said about Mickey Hart, the dude can't swing!

This is why true dead aficionados treasure 1973 and 74 shows, a time when the incredibly underrated timekeeper Bill Kreutzmann drummed solo and things were real creative. With Mickey pounding away it became quite difficult to turn a tight corner.

Ah well, I just don't resonate with anything about Dead & Co.. Jerry Garcia once said that it was his job to open the door musically and Bob Weir's job to shut the door. To each his own but I prefer the former. 

I have tried to listen to Dead & Co. but usually last under a minute. Not my cup of meat. I miss Jerry, I miss Phil, I miss Billy and I even miss Bruce Hornsby for his brilliant contributions.

I don't need to relive my psychedelic youth and play pretend. You eat enough mushrooms and even Wayne Newton would sound phenomenal and trippy, I know. But does it pass the real acid test?

BigDave caught two shows, said they were spectacular. Beautiful. But he mostly talked about the extraordinary visuals in the sphere.

Now I am a visual guy and I would be tempted to check it out just for the light show. But hearing these guys play my favorite band's music would be like watching a film of somebody making love to a former lover, it would just feel very wrong.

The dead have to be swimming in gelt at this point.  What did I just read?

Grateful Dead breaks the record for most top 40-charting albums in the nearly 68-year history the Billboard 200. The group’s latest archival live release, Dave’s Picks, Volume 49: Frost Amphitheatre, Stanford U., Palo Alto, CA (4/27/85 & 4/28/85), debuts at No. 25 on the chart dated Feb. 10. It’s the 59th top 40-charting set for the band, surpassing the 58 top 40s earned by both Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra

Now far be it for me to suggest that anybody make a graceful exit. I just don't want to be involved. I see nothing even remotely interesting in rehashing these worn idioms some fifty or sixty years down the road.

Die already.

Jesse Fuller – Guitar Blues

Middle East gambit

One of the nicest people I met at the Grass Valley show happened to be a Palestinian man, a little younger than I. 

He was there with his sons. I asked him if he was Jordanian and he said he was actually Palestinian. We looked like cousins.

He was genuinely warm and friendly, like the great majority of Palestinians that I meet.

In fact, most Palestinians that I have encountered have more tolerance for the Israeli government than I do. 

They know what it means to have Islamic radicals like Hamas and Hezbollah running the show. Not good.

Anyway we had a delightful conversation. He is from Jerusalem, hasn't been back in forty five years.

I am also a Palestinian I suppose in that my father was born in Palestine and came to this country before Israeli statehood. Both he and my grandfather had Palestinian passports. What does that make me?

I was selling a painting to a conservative man later on in my trip and I mentioned my positive interaction with the Palestinian. The man scoffed and said, "What, one of the ten of them over there that are any good?"

He is mistaken. Many of them are good, in fact the great majority, Muslim and Christian alike. I worked with these people in Israel, I ate with them, I got to know them on a daily basis. Human beings, just like you and me. 

But if you have never been to the country and have been spoon fed the dehumanizing palaver about evil arabs dished out by Faux News, you would never understand that I suppose. It is a shame.

I love Israel and I love Palestine. My hope is that there is a two state solution somewhere that respects the lives and dignity of each, if it is not too late.

Of course Hamas started the latest war in the most dastardly manner. And managed to change the global paradigm in terms of Israel. The progressive left never wants to give October 7th more than the slightest recognition, the mass murder and hostage taking, preferring to focus on the ridiculously disproportionate Israeli response.

I think that Israel has made a grave and fatal error here, clearly it has lost the battle of world opinion, somewhat unfairly in some sense. It thinks that it can win a "war" against its foes even if it means slaughtering all of the people it essentially holds perpetually captive in Gaza.

This hubris will be their undoing. Netanyahu's courting of MAGA America has alienated many of Israel's oldest Jewish supporters in the Democratic party. Now that party is undergoing its own internecine conflict with the progressive millennials, many of whom abhor Israel and wouldn't bat an eyelash if it was extinguished by its sworn enemies.

It puts some of us in a strange position. A known Fallbrook Trumper accosted me yesterday, asked me how I liked the democratic party making nice with the people who want to destroy Israel? I wasn't sure how to respond and said "Only half of them," somewhat sadly and sheepishly.

The truth is that many American Jews have long been turned off by hard right Israeli governments that have done their best to squash meaningful peace solutions with the Palestinians. 

Of course Israelis are at the point of the spear in a very dangerous neighborhood and don't have the luxury to wax prosaically and pontificate when many of their neighbors have sworn and vowed to do them in. A whole new existential reality is certainly in play over there. I have been under fire from both Scuds and Katyushas in Israel and the conceptual platitudes have a way of falling away when the bombs are in the air.

The middle east is all about the masterful endgame, both sides are expert chess or shachmat שַׁחְמָט players. No matter how many people are killed on either side it's really about the win, right?

Both sides also unfortunately sometimes forget that we are all human beings.

Shalom aleichem and In sh'allah. Pray for peace in Jerusalem and the whole region.

Chuck Willis

Hawk siblings

 

Where have I been?

I don't watch much television at all, except for an occasional glance in a motel room on the road. So I am usually about five steps back from the normal human in terms of understanding what the heck is happening in our world. Let's face it, I lead a sheltered life.

I have been going through a lot of band-aids of late dressing the wound on my big toe and have pretty much exhausted our personal stash. Did you know, they no longer have the little pull string in the band-aid? I didn't.

Anyway, I went to Grocery Outlet to replenish our stock today. Couldn't find the large ones I needed, everything is an "assortment box."

But I did buy this box, out of a mixture of utility and curiosity.

Ourtone band-aids, for the darkly complected.

Now I had never seen these before but honestly must tell you that now that I have a choice I am in a bit of a quandary.You see I have olive skin, what you might call a "Mediterranean complexion." Do I go white or black?

I have always been dark, compared to your average Swede or Norwegian anyway. But I sport more of a caramel tone than the dark chocolate chroma of the new Ourtone band-aid strip. So tell me, should I go pasty or tanned?

At the risk of being accused of cultural appropriation I still went with the dark strip because I think it more closely resembles my skin tone than the normal band-aid, which is more like Barbie's Pepto pink flesh tone than my gorgeous and nuanced melanin.

And I may look white to you but I culturally identify internally as a brother and I think there's that too.

I feel as giddy as a woman in 1968 getting her first puff on a Virginia Slims cigarette. I've come a long way baby.

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My wife just told me that there are at least four different skin tone colors available with ourtone, I had no clue. From ebony to ivory, as the song goes.

I probably could get a little closer to my personal hue but I think I will stick with this dark one, see if I can change my luck.

Bill Connors - Assembler

Scone-ology

My schedule has been insane and it is only going to get tougher in the coming weeks. 

I am in the conservation of strength and energy mode and went home early today to hopefully recharge.

I decided to make a batch of scones. I haven't made any since Fresno.

I made my standard organic blueberry and cranberry with cinnamon, walnuts and candied ginger.

I usually use a milk wash, today I went with an egg wash and I like the color and gloss better.

Leslie asked me for a glaze and I told her it was her choice.

She picked some Valencia oranges out of our grove, also organic and I made a really snappy citrus glaze.

These babies tasted so good, wish you could smell them! I modified my cream and butter mixing technique ever so slightly but it made a big difference. They were light and fluffy.

On my near horizon is a maple bacon scone that I have yet to invent, slightly savory sweet. I talked to the pastry chef at Pamplemousse and she gave me some ideas how to handle the maple syrup glaze.

Rollin' Stone

Johnny Jenkins with Duane Allman on slide guitar.

May Birdtalk

I got back from Northern California and noticed that my baby red tailed hawks had left the nest. Saw them bouncing around on nearby trees and starting to fly.

I hope to find time to get better pictures of them before they finally fly away to fresh pastures and new valleys.

I saw one on the road this morning that took off in flight before I could really grab a decent shot.

I took this shot through my car window.

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Lots of action at my feeder too, like this black headed grosbeak male dipping into the grape jelly.

Whales and Grapefruit

It was nowhere near what you would call an ideal day for whale watching. The skies were gray, it was a tad chilly and the water had a bit of a chop. I didn't have time to get my ideal whale watching lens from the shop and would have to contend with my very slow Sigma zoom.

Still the worst day whale watching is still fantastic and nature decided to cooperate with us.

Leslie and I were treated to quite a show as we encountered about ten finback whales, the second largest animal on earth after the blue whale. 

These whales run about 80 to 90 feet in length.

We were barely out of the harbor when we first encountered a finback whale mother and her large calf. Normally we have to go about ten miles out to see these magnificent leviathans. The krill that they feed on was evidently quite close to shore and we saw them in about 80 meters of water.

Remarkable.

We sat in the middle of the whale action for about two hours, no need to travel far when they come to you.

Chris was our captain, Tican the crew and we have gotten to know them over the years. We go a lot. Yesterday was special for us because we had so few people on the boat.

Fin whales don't usually breach like humpbacks (although we have seen them breach on a rare occasion) but their presence is still magical. We once had three tightly circle our boat for forty five minutes on a Catalina trip with Doug, Retha, Kent and Renee.  Perhaps it was the Marvin Gaye we were blasting.

Whales dig Marvin Gaye, don't ask me why.

The lack of optimal photographic conditions allowed me to just enjoy myself rather than being forced to record the experience. It was nice.

Later we ran into a small school of dolphins.

All in all, it was quite a nice day.

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We stopped by our great friends Ron and Lena's home in Cardiff after our excursion for an anniversary champagne toast and appetizers.

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We then went to the restaurant for dinner. Pamplemousse Grille is our favorite place to eat in San Diego County. Located across from the Del Mar Racetrack, their food is always exceptional as is their chef, Jeffrey Strauss. Check out their menu. It was a tough choice.

We usually go for Restaurant Week when it is cheaper but what the heck, this was our thirtieth anniversary so we went for it.

We started with their smoked seafood medley; Smoked lobster, shrimp, scallop, salmon and a potato galette, with a caviar pepper Beurre Blanc. Our server told us that everything but the salmon was smoked on site.

It was beautiful and delicious.

Leslie had the crispy duck, I went for the game duo of a venison chop and quail. Or as the menu says: Venison Chop Au Poivré & Lemon Thyme Marinated Quail and Crispy Half Duck with Sweet White Corn, Porcini Mushrooms, Sautéed Gnocchi in a Cherry Balsamic Reduction.

Both of our dishes were beyond delicious. We shared and loved each other's dish. If I had to be critical I would say the potato was sort of underwhelming but it was quite useful in holding up the end of the chop.

Leslie thought her gnocchi was a bit blah and perfunctory. But now we are splitting hairs. 

They brought us a candle in a strawberry with some praline candies to mark our celebration that was also not very incredible but hey, it's the thought that counts, we appreciate it.

We skipped dessert. Leslie wanted ice cream and had her heart set on An's Hatmakers Gelato in Del Mar, supposedly rated number two in the entire country. I guess they try harder. She had a roasted pistachio cup which she loved.

I was full from dinner.

I love Pamplemousse. I love the whales. I love my wife. I love you. There, I said it.

Thirty year anniversary

 

Rolling Stones - 2120 South Michigan Avenue

A rare Stones instrumental. The amazing Brian Jones on harp. 2120 South Michigan Avenue was the address for Chess Records in Chicago.

Slowdown

With David Sanborn.

Grass Valley Shindig

not exactly a blast...

Well, I'm back, mostly in one piece. It was a tough trip up north, one I am not going to fully break down at for you at the moment, but will give you a few outstanding high and lowlights. 

I got back yesterday afternoon. I was going to try to empty my van this morning but remembered that I had something on the calendar. Yes, that was it, a visit to the podiatrist. Nine o clock this morning, van would have to wait.

My big toe has been aching for two months, ever since my pedicure. I saw an emergency room doctor, he ruled out the gout.

Doctor was a few minutes late. Patish is a nice young guy, from Belarus originally. 

His nurse thought the nail color was really off. Hmm. 

He took a quick look and then pulled out two long needles. 

Froze my toe and then gave me the injections. 

Told me not to look.😓

I had an ingrown toenail that was the result of an improper pedicure that I had received at the place near Grocery Outlet. 

He said that they cut at the wrong angle and left a sliver of nail in. 

It had apparently abscessed and left a lot of scar tissue. 

He said that he pulled out the second most cystic material he had ever retrieved from a toe.

I asked him if I could feel the old tissue and it was firm and rather pliable. Never had anyone dig into my toe before.

Strange stuff.

Antibiotics now for ten days. I am bandaged and he wants me to chill out for a day or two.

Guess he dug rather deep.

I think I need to find a new manicurist. 

The vibes weren't so good with the last one anyway and now this.

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Grass Valley was strange, a  western show that was once the class of the genre, people still talk about the day the Koch Brothers dropped over three million in one visit.

Those days have evidently passed.

I stopped by my stepmother's in Fresno on the way up. Taught Shela and my stepsister Sara how to make my scones recipe.

Not sure why but these cranberry blueberry ginger scones came out extra good. I was pretty careful because I was teaching. 

They wanted me to bring scones and I said no, but I will teach you how.

Drove by the very intriguing and venerable Madame Sophia Palm Reader joint in Fowler and made a mental note to come back one day with a camera when I had more time.

The next morning I had coffee with my good friend Bert Levy, a tradition of mine while in Fresno.

I made my way up through Sacramento, then onto the Highway 49 and finally Grass Valley.

Known for great historical, advertising, western and gold rush material, there was a robust swap meet occurring outside in the parking lot when I arrived. 

I saw faces I had literally not seen in decades, caught up with some old friends. 

I bought a beautiful Navajo floor rug outside.

I started bringing my show material in around eight in the morning. There was no move in help and no double doors. 

My painting boxes were too wide and had to be brought in one at a time. 

I looked around.

The show seems to have gone to seed in some way, but let's face it, who hasn't?

Both the clientele and dealers are aging. 

My booth was not nearly what I expected, not the full peg board I had been promised and a strange short wall separating me from the next dealer. 

Oh well, I would make do. What else could I do?

This was like a way back booth for me from thirty years ago.

I decided to forego lights and paper and just blend in like the other dealers. Rather Spartan.

I don't think they have really had a fine art dealer before. 

I had low expectations.

Which was good because the show didn't really pan out all that well for me. 

Sold a couple paintings and other things, did all right but not what I needed or expected. 

I bought a good illustrator painting on the floor which I have already sent to auction.

I had not been to the area since I went up with my ex wife about forty years ago to see the Jerry Garcia Band and the Band play together outside on the lawn.

It has changed.

While some are championing Grass Valley as the new vanguard of psychedelics, I didn't see any of that. 

I saw long haired men with pistols strapped to their sides, many of them missing large numbers of teeth. 

I went into the Humpty Dumpty for breakfast one morning wearing a Hawaiian shirt and gave the place the once over. People stared back. 

I noticed that everybody there dressed quite drably, all in blue and gray, might as well have been wearing potato sacks. Color is out. I know that I am prone to hyperbole but I am not exaggerating, no one, male or female, had anything sporting color.

I felt like a drag queen at a Wisconsin picnic in my Hawaiian shirt, which, a long with my blue jeans, is my normal costume du jour at the shows. 

Politically the conversation, both dealer and clientele was heavily MAGA. Lot of white flight escapees to Idaho, heard some racist stuff, made it a point not to engage. I was there to try to make money, not win political arguments.

Had a man bemoan the fact that all these Bay Area people have moved into Nevada City and were ruining the place, one guy said his own sister in law was one of the principal offenders and she was running for office!

Place is evidently pretty polarized, like much of America right now. I had two decent meals all week, at Maria's and at Pine St. Burgers, the Heisenburger the best I have had in a long time. 

Went out with a couple dealers to the former place, an old rodeo bull rider and his son from Bakersfield and another guy who had a booth near me. 

We told jokes all weekend to keep ourselves occupied, spent a few days laughing. I had a couple cocktails at Maria's and ended up leaving the place feeling pretty good.

Show started Friday and sometime in the late morning I dodged the bullet. 

That flimsy wall between the booths decided to come down. 

I jumped up and grabbed a falling painting with one hand and held the entire wall up with the other.

The guy next to me, Shannon, said I looked like Hercules standing there for about two or three minutes until help arrived to stabilize the mess.

I had $30,000 dollars of paintings on that wall and I managed to escape with about $650 dollars damage. 

The wall crashed into a table and broke the glass on top and gouged the table pretty good. I ended up giving it away.

I barely received an apology from the promoter and never any offer of compensation for my loss. 

The man that built the wall said that he had neglected to put a brace on the back. I guess a major tragedy was averted and things could have been a hell of a lot worse but I expected something more from management, frankly.

Not sure I will be returning, that is for sure.

I manufactured a sale to a client who was walking through the place. I knew where this painting was in Berkeley... I got up at four on Sunday, drove to Marin to drop off a painting, picked up a painting in Berkeley, stopped by Oakland for a cup of coffee with my friend Melissa, then drove to Ojai to sell the painting. 

My GPS sent me out to this god forsaken region near Taft and I realized that I didn't have enough gas to attempt the geographical traverse. The phone routed me another 45 minutes to Maricopa and then through the amazing Maricopa Highway for a three hour ride through some of the most marvelous scenery I have ever seen in Southern California. I had done Highway 33 from Wheeler and Casitas Pass the other way but never all the way through or from the east.

Miles of ceanothus lilac, two months later and a shade lighter than my local stuff. Wildflowers I have never seen before, a giant river bottom and then a climb into the most beautiful pine hills of the Los Padres National Forest. 

There were nine washouts to get through where the road was now one way. My only regret was not seeing any of the condors that now live in the area. I finally made it to my client's beautiful hacienda, did the deal and then on to my hotel in Ventura. I drove somewhere between fourteen and sixteen hours this day and was completely wiped out.

Got home yesterday, pretty whipped and clutching for breath. Bank is holding the big check for five days. Nothing is easy. I guess this is what I have signed on for. Little hawks have now fled the nest but I saw all though of them on distant boughs and snapped a couple shots today.

I'm glad to be home, bandaged foot propped up on the couch.  Anesthesia just wearing off. Just found out that new client up in Atherton wants to see paintings early next week, might not even unload the van. Another thousand miles or so to go.

Such a life...