Showing posts with label Friends Family and People. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Friends Family and People. Show all posts

Thursday, October 22, 2026

Call 'Em Like Museum Podcast with Laura Fies

Proud Dad Warning. Here's a 48-minute podcast/interview with my daughter Laura in her role as the CEO of the USS Hornet Museum in Alameda, Calif. The "Call 'Em Like Museum" podcast looks to be a newish weekly show devoted to the challenges of running all sorts of museums, and this week host Eric Johnson looked at the Hornet. 


As I told Laura after watching it, I was very impressed by how informative, composed and articulate she was for nearly an hour. Having sat through similar interviews myself, I know my brain turns to porridge after 20 minutes or so. I also thought Johnson was a good host who asked smart questions and listened to her answers (surprisingly rare). 

As a parent, this was one of many times I've been reminded that my kids are full-grown independent adult professionals who have knowledge and experience I know nothing about. That's the goal, right?

Monday, October 12, 2026

Commemoration and Celebration

A busy, reflective, celebratory weekend.

Friday was the ninth anniversary of the Tubbs Fire, which destroyed my home and about 5,000 others, so we had some feelings about that. At the same time, on Saturday, Karen and I helped open a new park in our neighborhood that was the culmination of years of hard work. The two events are related.

A look at part of the park, which I shot from atop the highest piece of playground equipment. It's a really nice playground, with a lot of natural wood, and metal painted in primary colors. It was paid for by an organization called the Saba Foundation and supplied by Park Pacific and Columbia Cascade; they all consider it a model that they can point to as an example of their best work.

A look the opposite direction at the rest of the park. It's hard to see what's going on, but the tan umbrellas toward the center rear are shading six picnic tables. The dirt patch at center that most of the people are standing on will soon be grass, and a concrete pad for the future gazebo is off-camera to the right. The white canopy shades one of four tables set up for a silent auction, which offered 22 donated items (including a signed copy of my graphic novel "A Fire Story") to help raise funds for the park. Our daughters Robin and Laura came to help run the silent auction, as did my sister-in-law Cathy and brother-in-law Marc. All in the family! 

The park's origin story: before the fire, it was a preschool on an acre of land. After the fire, its owners relocated the preschool, put the land up for sale, and got an offer from a developer who wanted to fill the acre with a massive apartment complex. Karen helped form a nonprofit organization with the goal of turning it into a park instead, and the land's owners said they'd be happy to sell it to them if they could match the developer's price.

Years of work followed. Karen was instrumental in raising funds and negotiating agreements. You would not believe how hard and expensive it is to build a park. You think, "What's the problem? Just roll out some turf, throw up a playground, and BOOM! Instant Park!" Not even close. Permits, soil engineers, water engineers, utilities, contractors, subcontractors, inspectors (did you know there are professional playground inspectors?). It would have been easier and faster to build the apartments. Every step was a struggle for a scrappy nonprofit that was basically just eight or nine motivated volunteers, none of whom had built a park before. 

The nonprofit board introducing themselves and giving thanks and credit where it was due. The park project wouldn't have been possible without a ton of people and businesses that provided material and services for free or at cost. That bare dirt underfoot will be covered in a woody mulch (also donated by a local business) very soon. 

Saturday, the park opened. It's not done yet--it still needs a lawn and a lot of landscaping, plus there's a longer-term goal of building a gazebo that'll take money we don't yet have--but it's safe and fun. We threw a big fundraising gala with speechifying dignitaries and a fundraising auction. The preparation and work that went into the event itself was enormous. Exhausting. Sleep-depriving.

And it was a huge success! The weather was perfect. We figure a couple hundred people came, and the auction raised way more money than anyone expected, greatly due to the auctioneering skills of our special guest, California Senator Mike McGuire. Best of all, the park actually had kids playing in it! 

Karen, state Sen. Mike McGuire, and county Supervisor James Gore. Karen knows them well; before McGuire was elected to state office, he was a county supervisor like Gore, and Karen worked with them both for years. 

Sen. McGuire was a champion running the live auction part of the program. Part of the action included auctioning off very fancy cakes; we had three of them. The goal is to get some competition going and sell the cake for a ridiculously high amount--say, $1000. The obvious joke is, "Man, that must be some cake!" but in practice it's an excuse for someone who was disposed to donate $1000 anyway to take home a nice cake for their troubles. A firefighter is modeling one of the cakes while Karen stands ready to call out bidders in the background. 

After years of being a weedy dirt field as silent as a tomb, the acre was alive again, with the squealing, boundless energy of children. That hit unexpectedly hard.

After our early afternoon festivities ended, we dashed over to a fire remembrance organized by county Supervisor James Gore, who had also helped inaugurate the park. That was a more sober affair, although Gore also wanted it to be fun and handed out many certificates whose gag titles belied real accomplishments (Karen got one labeling her the "Red Tape Ninja"). It wasn't a large crowd but almost everyone in it had lost something to the fire, and it was good to be together. 

After the park event, the fire remembrance was a chance to highlight and thank people who did critical work in those days. The emergent theme was the importance of community. Karen was one of the speakers, and she's up front next to the red-shirted James Gore. If you haven't picked up on it yet, I think my wife is a real hero and I'm proud to be associated with her. 

Karen and I were both interviewed about our perspectives on the fire nine years later. Mine came down to this: when a disaster like that hits you, your old life is over and your new life begins. For a long time, every day of your new life is horrible. But eventually, you start to accumulate enough happy moments and good memories so that, after nine years, you can look back and honestly say your new life is good. That doesn't mean you stop mourning the loss of your old life or that the disaster was somehow "all for the best" (I hate that platitude), but we're fine and that's pretty great.

If you'd like to help our scrappy little park pay for a gazebo and other beautiful things, here's a QR code that'll make it easy for you! Everything goes right to the park, nobody's making a dime. 


Saturday, March 28, 2026

No Kings Day 2026

Karen and I getting into position for the start of the march. My "Antifa" sign got some attention from people who said they'd also had relatives who served in World War II and had partly come to honor them, as I did. Grandpa fought fascism; I figure I owe it to him to do the same.

Karen and I made a little good trouble in Santa Rosa, Calif. this afternoon. Our daughters were also with us, but I only post photos of them (as adults) with their permission, which I definitely didn't have. Demonstrators gathered in two areas and then converged on Old Courthouse Square in the center of the city. 

Police estimate attendance at 6,000; the local newspaper says 12,000. I honestly lean toward the lower end of that range, but will say that I've been in that square for a lot of events, including a past demonstration that drew about 5,000 people, and it was much more packed than I've ever seen it. Like a summer Saturday at Disneyland. 

This stream of demonstrators, which included us, approached from the south. Another stream approached from the north. We converged in the heart of the city.

A giant bird marionette in Santa Rosa's Old Courthouse Square. Contrary to common belief, the building with the clock tower in the background is NOT the old courthouse, which was razed decades ago. However, that building, which is called the Empire Building, does make a cameo in Hitchcock's "Shadow of a Doubt," so I like to include it as a landmark when I can.

As always, demonstrators were good-natured good citizens. Karen and I both thought that the march wasn't as well organized or policed as past marches. There was some poor traffic control and confusion. Organizers needed more people shepherding the crowd.

Quibbles. As our family discussed afterward, the real value of these things isn't imagining that the four of us made a real difference. It's being part of a community. Letting each other know we're not alone. Being a pebble in an avalanche, a snowflake in a blizzard. 

That's worthwhile--at least it's worth a couple of hours on a nice Saturday afternoon.

I ran into two good old friends, Jana and Bill. Nearly forty years ago we were all chemists working in the same lab. Bill in particular was sort of a mentor to me. Now none of us is still a chemist and we meet up at demonstrations. Two of the smarter and better people I know.

I liked this.

A slightly higher, standing-on-a-planter-box angle on Old Courthouse Square as it filled up.



Tuesday, March 24, 2026

PNW

Karen and I are home from a vacation in the Pacific Northwest to celebrate our anniversary. We spent three days in Seattle and two in Victoria B.C. I figure you don't really want to hear a long travelogue or see my 200-photo slide show, so just assume we saw and did all the things, got lucky with the weather, and had a great time.

Instead, I'll tell three stories in two photos. First is a spray of glass flowers by Dale Chihuly at the base of the Space Needle. Karen and I agree that the Chihuly Garden was a breathtaking highlight of our trip, a guaranteed must-see. 

Second is two stories in one photo. Story 1: there's a great bookstore in Victoria called Munro's that had one copy of the "Mom's Cancer Anniversary Edition." So if any readers in the vicinity want an autographed copy of the book, Munro's has one. I didn't stealth-sign it; I asked a clerk (I'm always astonished that when I say "I wrote this book, do you want me to sign it?" nobody ever asks for I.D.) and they put a sticker on it, so it's official. 

Story 2: We discovered a neat little hat shop in Victoria called Roberta's, where I finally found a hat I like. I've been looking for one for a long time, but choosing a hat is no simple chore. It's more like the hat has to choose you. So I explained to the clerk that I used to have a fedora-like hat I loved but lost years ago, and I've been looking for one since. I tried on the one I'm wearing in the photo and said, "I like it, but I don't want to look like Indiana Jones."

She replied, "Oh, I don't think you could ever look like Indiana Jones."

To which I said, "Thanks, that's very nice--HEY!!"

But she was good-natured about it so, despite the insult, I bought the hat. 

Good trip.

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Happy Birthday, Pooters

Their first birthday party. More parties followed,
including one later today. They're neater eaters now. 

The Ides of March have had a bad reputation since 44 B.C.--thanks, Caesar!--but at least for me the date was redeemed when my daughters were born on it. Happy Birthday, Laura and Robin. Thank you for making me a Dad!

Thursday, December 18, 2025

Twins Day 2025!


It nearly slipped past me! I was just reminded that today is National Twins Day, which I get to celebrate because I raised my own pair of 'em. HA HA, girls, you thought I'd forgotten! 

I may enjoy being a dad of twins more than they actually enjoy being twins. Of course, none of us really thinks about it very often, but when it comes to my attention I smile, whereas when it's brought to their attention they just roll their eyes.

Happy Twins Day, Chiquitas! Thanks for giving me the opportunity to make you squirm in embarrassment. You were a lot of work, so I earned it.

Thursday, December 11, 2025

Schroeder

In 1884, sculptor Frederic Bartholdi and engineer Gustave Eiffel built the Statue of Liberty in the middle of Paris before disassembling it for shipment to the United States. It's weird to see such a famous icon in a totally unfamiliar setting.

I've been thinking of that as I wrap up my work refurbishing and painting a (smaller) statue of the "Peanuts" character Schroeder that is destined for a local park. My wife, Karen, is part of a non-profit that purchased an acre of land to save it from becoming a monstrous apartment complex, way too big for the property and neighborhood, and develop it as a community playground instead. Before our 2017 fire it had been a pre-school; since, it has been an empty lot.

Another member of the non-profit contacted someone with the Charles M. Schulz Museum, which is a few miles from the park, to ask if they had any "Peanuts" statues. This being Mr. Schulz's adopted hometown, dozens of similar statues are all over the region, sponsored and painted by various businesses and service organizations as works of public art. They had one: a Schroeder statue that had been returned when a bank back east went out of business.

It had been exposed to the elements and so needed patching, caulking and sanding, then priming and painting. I just finished putting roughly a hundred coats of polyurethane on it, so I hope it will last a while. 

Sometime in the spring, when the park is done, Schroeder will be installed in his new home (situated to be as kid-proof as possible). With luck, decades from now these photos of Schroeder in my backyard will look as weird as those of Lady Liberty looming over Paris.

Monday, December 8, 2025

Time Traveling

Today is "Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day"--really, you can look it up!--and, in remarkable synchronicity, less than 24 hours ago I did some time traveling with no idea that the auspicious occasion was nigh.

My daughters and I went to The Great Dickens Christmas Fair in San Francisco yesterday. It's like a Renaissance Faire but indoors and 300 years later, recreating the life and times of "A Christmas Carol." They're a little loose with the time period--anything vaguely Victorian fits in, from Sherlock Holmes to an occasional cowboy. It's about equal parts food, shopping and entertainment that is impressively immersive for taking place in a big warehouse. There is also a time machine available for photo ops. We have a good time.

Oh, here's some unsolicited relationship advice from someone who's been married a while. Try to find a partner who, when you announce "Google says that 'Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day' began in 2007," will reply: "Or did it?!" That one is a keeper. 

Anyway, happy "Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day," particularly to any friends who happen to own a DeLorean or an old English police call box.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Juanita's Recipe


Anyone need cookies for 600?

My late mother-in-law, Juanita, spent her career as a lunch lady for a middle school (lunch ladies don't have to be ladies, but that's what she called her job and the alliteration is too good to pass up). Yesterday my wife, Karen, and her sister, Cathy, unpacked their mom's recipe notebook, which Cathy saved from being trashed. 

I love this recipe for three reasons: first is the absurdity of scale, which starts with 7.5 pounds of butter and 30 eggs, and only escalates. Second is that it is written in her hand and stained with the residue of years of honest cooking. Third is that it hearkens to a time when school cafeterias actually cooked for students instead of reheating prepackaged glop and nuggets. 

Anyway, if you want to make 600 oatmeal cookies and have two gallons of oatmeal on hand, please enjoy, courtesy of Juanita.

Juanita!

Grandmother with my girls, quite a while ago.


Monday, September 29, 2025

Congrats to Lis and Randy!


My family and I went to L.A. this weekend to help my little sister get married! It's her story to tell, not mine, but it was fun and beautiful and nearly flawless, at least until Darth Vader showed up and force-choked me. All our love to the bride and groom, my new younger brother.


In a weekend of lifetime memories and highlights, I was especially happy to reconnect with Steve De Jarnatt, a film director who's known Lis for nearly 20 years and me since my book, Whatever Happened to the World of Tomorrow? came out. 


Steve directed the movies "Miracle Mile" and "Cherry 2000" in addition to countless TV episodes, but our connection is the 1939 World's Fair, which I featured in my book and Steve is an avid fan and collector of. After our fire, Steve sent me a care package full of vintage Fair memorabilia and ephemera, which was one of the kindest, most generous things anyone did for me in those days.




Thursday, September 25, 2025

Happy Daughters AND Comic Book Day!

I'm reminded that today is both International Daughters Day and International Comic Book Day. I am in the very unusual and nifty position of being able to celebrate both simultaneously, as my daughters have appeared somewhere in every graphic novel I've done (yay, crowd scenes!).

This drawing features me, my wife Karen, and our daughters Laura and Robin. Long-time readers may not recognize this art because it's from an as-yet-unpublished book that I suspect will probably stay that way. Alas. But at least I get to use it for today. 

Happy International Daughters/Comic Book Day, Chiquitas!

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Terri Libenson

I reconnected with former syndicated cartoonist and bestselling middle-grade author Terri Libenson when she did a meet-and-greet at Copperfield's Books in Petaluma, Calif. yesterday. We've known each other online for a while and met in person once at the Denver Pop Culture Con in 2019. We had time for a very nice conversation between young fans being delighted by her. Because she is delightful.

The artwork is from Terri's "Pajama Diaries" comic strip that she donated to the Cartoon Art Museum in 2020 to be auctioned off as a fundraiser. I bought it. So yesterday I took the opportunity to have her inscribe and sign it to me! A nice closed circle. 

Terri is currently on a book tour that had her doing three school visits yesterday, doing two more school visits today, and catching a flight to Australia tonight. I asked her how the life of a successful bestselling author suited her and she said she liked it fine, but I don't think I'd have the stamina for it. 

It was great to see her, and I'm very glad we had time to talk. I wish her the best of luck on her tour!

P.S.--I look unusually red and blotchy in this photo because I got a sunburn over the weekend. As a descendant of the pale pasty peoples of the icy north, I always look a little red and blotchy, but not this red and blotchy. My olive-skinned wife and daughters regard me with pity and horror.

P.P.S.--The Copperfield's bookstore in Petaluma has a big stack of "Fire Story" paperbacks that I signed while I was there, so if you want one that's a good place to find it. Please support your heroic local independent bookseller whenever you can.

Monday, October 17, 2022

Space, the VR Frontier

 

My daughters treated me to an extraordinary experience yesterday. "Space Explorers: The Infinite" is a pop-up virtual reality trip to the International Space Station that, as far as I can tell, is only available in Richmond, California through the end of November (a previous installation in Tacoma is over). I've wanted to be an astronaut my entire life. This is as close as I will get.

The front door.

Wearing VR headsets, you and your party walk into a room the size of a basketball court with about 20 other people. But of course it doesn't look like that to you--as far as you can tell, you're floating through space into a kind of translucent CGI model of the ISS. Your own body sparkles like you're beaming up to the Enterprise. You can walk through the ISS layout while other visitors fade in and out around you as glowing avatars. That's all well and good, and kind of what I expected. Fine, fun, neat.

Heading in. It was not crowded yesterday.

But the experience gets dialed up to infinity (and beyond!) when you touch one of the many glowing orbs floating through the model. Suddenly you're aboard the actual ISS, standing right beside real astronauts doing tasks, greeting newly arriving colleagues, getting a haircut, throwing a football. SpaceX sent VR cameras to the ISS in 2019 to get this immersive footage. It's amazing. Breathtaking.

I can't emphasize this enough: YOU ARE THERE. IN SPACE. Full-scale 3-D, 360 degrees around. Floating weightlessly beside real astronauts who are the same size as you. You look up, the space station modules extend for dozens of meters away. You look down, another corridor stretches beneath your feet. 

That's what really got me: the SCALE of the thing. I know the dimensions of the ISS, but to be inside these modules that each feels about as big as a railroad freight car or a transit bus, was stunning. It's the difference between knowing and experiencing.

A good overview of how the experience is laid out.

Better: toward the end, you're directed to a chair for more VR, and I think the reason they need you to sit down is that most people would find floating freely in open space so disorienting they'd flop to the floor like a carp. You look to your left, and an astronaut opens the ISS cupola windows to peer out at you. You look up, and two astronauts back slowly out of a hatch to do a spacewalk. You look down, left, right, and the disk of the Earth covers nearly half the universe as you fly over Italy and across the Mediterranean. The ISS is an enormous, complex machine stretching away in every direction around you, and YOU ARE THERE.

I confess, I may have shed a tear inside my VR kit. It moved me. I could've spent an hour just flying over the Earth like Superman.

The whole thing takes 35-40 minutes to go through. I see that an adult ticket costs $44 (less for children and students). It's worth it. In addition, there are more floating orbs than anyone could touch in one visit, so everyone gets a different experience and I'm sure repeat visits would be different every time.

I don't know if other versions of this are or will be available elsewhere. They must be. If you're a space nut who gets the opportunity, take it. I can't promise it'll change your life, but you'll never forget it.

Monday, April 11, 2022

Don Rubin

Don. Photo by Peter Maresca.

My friend Don Rubin died last week, and it took me a few days to think of something fitting and good enough to say about him. Don built his reputation as a game designer and puzzle maker, creating brainteasers and graphic/textual/artistic entertainments of enormous complexity. He published many of them over the decades.

He was also in the comics business, working as an editor for publisher Peter Maresca, from whom I nicked this photo of Don because I couldn't find a good one of my own. Maresca is respected in comics circles for his oversized collections of meticulously curated and restored classic comic strips, and Don had a hand in producing those. He was driven to get it right, and could recall with great passion an instance or two when (apologies to Mr. Maresca) he thought Pete hadn't taken his guidance the way he should have. He loved and cared.

Don and I met not through our comics but through our wives, who worked together. Karen and Caroline compared notes--"Your husband makes comics? So does mine!"--and we hit it off. Don was a talker with East Coast energy and cadence. A natural storyteller. He had deeply penetrating insights into narrative and publishing, which made him someone whose word I respected and whose approval I sought. 

Don was one of only a half dozen or so people who've seen my current comics project. It's a bit odd and ambitious, and Don immediately got what I was doing and why I was doing it. "If this then that and then you can do this but what about that?" He was excited. I wish he'd lived to see it done. If it's ever published, he'll have an acknowledgment. 

I always thought that Don's great gift was seeing patterns that other people didn't. He found patterns in puzzles, stories, characters, graphics, current events. He looked at a series of panels from my new stuff and said "It's like music," which was in my head while I was drawing them but hadn't told anyone else. I once asked Don what inspired him to create a new type of puzzle. "Everything," he said. "Everything I do or see every day is raw material." His brain worked sideways from yours and mine, with wonderful results. 

Don and Caroline lost their home in the same fire we did. We didn't live near each other, the fire was just that big. I think it took a lot of wind out of his sails (as it did ours). They rebuilt like we did; the last time I saw Don was about a month ago when we brought take-out to their house for dinner. It's up in the hills, with spectacular views toward the west, and Don--who was very sick then--talked about the beauty of the terrain despite its fire scars. I'm glad that at least he made it back home to see many more magnificent sunsets. 

I'm heartsick for Caroline. For myself, I only wish I'd known Don longer and better, and had many more meals and talks together. He was the best.

EDITED TO ADD (Mostly so I hold onto it--here's Don's obit, which was published in newspapers nationwide):

April 6, 1945 - April 8, 2022 Donald Joel Rubin, one of the world's premier creators of games and puzzles, died of cancer at his home in Santa Rosa, California on April 8, 2022. Don was born April 6, 1945 in Malden, Mass. He graduated magna cum laude from Boston University's College of Communication.

His exceptional career evolved from teaching school in Maine, to serving as a creative consultant, scriptwriter, game designer, photographer, puzzler, research historian, contributing editor and writer. In the late 1980's his creation "The Real Puzzle" was first published in the Boston Phoenix, then The Real Paper, prior to its syndication in over 300 national and international newspapers and magazines through United Features Syndicate. The Real Puzzle generated so much fan mail that the U.S. Post Office gave Don his own zip code. Don became a mini expert in each field that was the focus of the weekly puzzle and attributed his creativity to a "poor diet and lack of sleep". He wrote many books including, "The Real Puzzle Book", "What's the Big Idea", "Those Incredible Puzzles", "Think Tank", "Brainstorms" and "More Brainstorms". His Parking Lot Puzzle has been called "one of the greatest puzzles of all time."

As print media gradually began to fade, Don refocused his creative genius on interactive games with original content working as a Senior Game Designer at Shockwave, Firemint, Ringzero Networks, and Electronic Arts. Don was a member of the Screen Writers Guild, with clients including Paramount Pictures, PBS NOVA, several Fortune 500 companies, and educational institutions. Don won numerous awards for editorial design, art direction, television and film design, photography, game design, advertising copywriting, and Web content development.

Although Don did not have children, he was an animal lover. At times he cared for many dogs, both his own and friends, bottle-fed a kangaroo, herded and fed cattle on an Australian working ranch, and back at home in Santa Rosa helped with the dogs, cats, chickens and bees.

Many friends sought out his keen intellect and insight into everything from current events, arts and cultural trends, to his astute reflections on everyday life. Don was a great fan of Samuel Beckett and could recite, "Waiting for Godot" in its entirety from memory, quoting recently, "I've talked with you about this and that, I explained the twilight, admittedly. But is it enough, that's what tortures me, is it enough." (Pozzo)

Don is survived by his wife, Caroline Judy, the former Director of General Services, County of Sonoma, and his brother, Harvey Rubin. A Celebration of Life event is being planned with details forthcoming. Please consider a donation in Don's name to HIAS at https://www.hias.org. 

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Wayne Thiebaud

 

I emerge from the holiday to see that Wayne Thiebaud died at 101. I attended UC Davis between 1978-83, when Thiebaud was an active part of the art department and campus life. He, with artists like sculptor Robert Arneson, painter Roland Peterson and others, made Davis a respected center of the West Coast art scene. 

I didn't take a class from Thiebaud--I don't think he taught undergrads--but I know I attended the opening of at least one of his exhibitions, since attendance was part of my studio art classes' grades (I got the impression they weren't sure anybody else would show up). I'm sure I exchanged a few words with him that I don't remember. My first-hand impression confirms his reputation: he was nice, and he loved teaching. He was certainly a highly regarded artist but not quite the Great Thiebaud he would become, and it wasn't unusual to see paintings that now sell for multi-millions hanging in the Memorial Union lobby or the halls of the art building. 



I can't say how many students realized they were in the presence of a great artist--probably not many--but those of us who were aware of it really appreciated it even at the time. To me, he always represented what a university was supposed to be: not just a place you went to take some classes and get a diploma, but a community where it was perfectly ordinary to see a world-class artist (or writer or physicist) pedaling a bicycle down the street, contributing to an educational and cultural environment I didn't really appreciate until I left it. Aside from a lifelong love of Thiebaud's art, that's my takeaway from his life.





Sunday, December 19, 2021

Holiday Tea on the USS Hornet

Festive!

Our daughter Laura is the XO (Executive Officer) of the USS Hornet Sea, Air and Space Museum in Alameda, Calif., and a few times a year puts on an Officers' Tea to raise money to support her museum's Collections and Exhibitions Dept., always with the help of her sister Robin and a couple of hardy volunteers. We attend whenever we can--today with Karen's sister Cathy and (most of) her family. This was the first tea since the pandemic began and there were no signs of rust in the operation. Maybe 30 to 35 vaccinated folks, all of whom seemed to have a great time, with a second seating that's happening as I type this.

Part of the fun is eating and drinking from the Hornet's historic collection of plates and cups and saucers. Laura studied old photos to set it up as much like it would have been in the 1940s or '50s as possible. They put on a first-class spread, and the ticket price includes admission to the museum. Great food PLUS a day aboard an aircraft carrier?! What a deal!

It's a ton of work, but for a small museum (not physically small--it's the size of a floating skyscraper!) every dollar counts. Having it a week before Christmas makes it extra festive and special. A very nice day.

Historic!

What a menu! Laura and Robin do all the cooking and baking themselves. They also blended the tea selections.

In the galley, Laura (right) and her friend Esme prepare sandwiches to follow the salad course.

Teapots and teabags locked and loaded.

My brother-in-law Marc, nephew Brian, Brian's girlfriend Charlene, sister-in-law Cathy, and Karen.

Marc and I toasting, with a nice view of the wardroom behind us. Low ceilings.

This pelican was feasting, just sitting on the Hornet's mooring lines and swooping down when a fish wandered beneath him. A fine sushi buffet.

A good day on the Gray Ghost. Don't think I've ever had a bad one (unlike many of the sailors and Marines who once served aboard her).


Tuesday, November 9, 2021

RIP Ms. Nicholas


Here's the best obituary I've read in a long time. The late Helen Nicholas of Petaluma, Calif. taught Home Economics for decades. Her obit concludes: "In lieu of flowers, please bake and enjoy Mrs. Foody's Petaluma Junior High Cinnamon Rolls with your friends and family..." and then proceeds to print the entire recipe! Fantastic! 

A good obit can be a treasure. "The Economist" magazine used to specialize in interesting, graceful obits of ordinary people who did extraordinary things (I still remember one about a watchmaker that made him sound like the Rembrandt of gears and springs). The fact that Ms. Nicholas's family marked her passing with a cinnamon roll recipe tells me more about her than another thousand words could have.



Mrs. Foody's Petaluma Junior High Cinnamon Rolls
Preheat oven to 425
Bake time 10-15 minutes

Rolls
2 C flour
1 T baking powder
1 t salt
¼ C shortening
¾ C milk
1T melted butter

Cinnamon and sugar mixture
Frosting
1 t melted butter
1 C powdered sugar
1 T water
1 t vanilla

Instructions
Stir flour, baking powder and salt together in a bowl. Cut shortening into the bowl and mix until crumbly. Stir in milk with a fork. Roll out dough, spread melted butter over the dough. Sprinkle cinnamon and sugar all over. Roll up and cut into 1 inch slices and place in a cupcake pan.
Frosting: mix all ingredients together and drizzle over warm cinnamon rolls.

I have no idea if these rolls are actually good. If anybody tries the recipe, please report back!