Obsolete Formats

We've been printing many of my films in 35mm this last month, for archival reasons, and checking the prints at the Fotokem lab in Burbank, in a screening room.

I'm always uncomfortable looking at my own work, but when I saw these prints at Fotokem I was shaken up a bit. Film looks SO GOOD, so totally different from any dvd or digital format. Geez! Animation! Cels! But only a handful of specialty labs are even printing film now, and in the years ahead all the studio releases will be coming out as digital only. (2014 already declared by studios as no film releases anywhere.) So if you have film negs think about printing them now.

Although my cartoon "Quasi at the Quackadero" was put on the National Film Registry list of films worthy of preservation, the list comes with no perks as to preservation (or even a piece of paper to frame and put on the wall!) In fact even the link to the pdf which came to me as official notification was a broken link!
Government.

Film is the latest obsolete format. wow! The world is becoming so damn virtual.

I've often wondered if the monster magnet from outer space really appeared what would happen to our collective culture? Then the Republican candidate I find most unappealing, (though it's hard to narrow that group down),Newt G, mentioned this in some recent debate as a real threat.

I'm going to write about my own computer history. I poured so much energy and YEARS into Flash, and before that into some other formats that also scream obsolete format.

Stay tuned.

Food in Italy

Can you believe I asked Jon to take this picture but didn't go inside? "No, no", I said, "I just like to look." It's true: I love to look at nicely displayed bakeries and candy stores, especially when they use shiny printed tin or cellophane. Some of the tarts in this display have wild strawberries on them! Paradiso!

But what was I thinking "just looking"? Everyone talks about Italian food so what I say won't matter. I could never get past course two so never had any desserts. Heartbreak.

The last night in Florence I went into a really pricey chocolate store and ordered a very small custom box of filled chocolates, two of each, thinking if I liked the taste I'd share it with Jon. NO SHARE! I didn't eat them till I got home and they were exquisite. One had champagne inside that dribbled right down my chin. Another had an apricot inside with the pit still inside the apricot. I wish I could go back and buy one of everything in the store just for me.



These were ravioli. They made me feel like I was really small because they were such giant tubes, in a walled Medieval city. They were really good, just fennel and leek but they probably snuck some animal thing in there because they even serve salami at breakfast in the hotels we stayed in.



Such pretty lettuce. We went to a great farmer's market in Genoa for more "just looking." Genoa is a nifty place to visit.



Our last night in Rome we were sent to a restaurant by the hotel, (and that's not a good idea. There's some kind of kick back going on.) We were served this artistic starter, which was filled with a wonderful artichoke mousse, but then my main course, sea bass first shown to me on a big platter before anything had been done to it, (John the B?) was sea bass with cheese sauce which didn't seem very Italian and was a bit creepy.

Blogger seems to have a limit on pictures to post. I was an experimental eater in Italy: whatever sounded weird but within my range I'd order. Why not? After a very weird sea food pasta Jon stuck to tomato sauce. I think the dishes he ordered were probably tastier, but now I know what not to order!

The regional thing is sometimes claustrophobic but sometimes terrific. Anywhere in Lucca where you ordered bruschetta it came with gloppy chicken liver topping. EUW! In Genoa a wonderful artichoke quiche like thing was on all menus. (no spiky chokes.)

Loved that all our hotels served blood orange juice for breakfast, even if sometimes it seemed to be cut with Kool-Aid. Campari Orange is a wondrous drink in Rome and comes with a grilled cheese sandwich whether you want one or not.

Truly disgusting that horse is on the menu but they don't provide translation. Figured it out too late or would have definitely boycotted a restaurant in Rome where we had lunch twice.

So how's that for the uninformed traveler passing through one of the most elegant gastronomic areas in the whole entire world?

Worst meal? Pizza! Right outside the Vatican!

Fashion Statement

The oddest fashion we saw our entire trip to Italy was at the very outset, in New York. We wandered into a very popular "French" bistro in Soho, Balthazar. The food was good and the room was filled with good looking people, many of them waiting for tables. We sat at a tray sized table next to the bar.

"Waiter, there's a fanny in my soup!"

A blonde walked up to the bar with her friends and ordered a drink. Do you know what tulle is? That stiff fabric ballerinas wear that you can see right through?

This gal was wearing a beige tulle skirt cut all different lengths and sticking out in all directions. It had big GASHES cut in the back of the skirt. I think she was wearing a thong under it, but I didn't check.

Her rear end was almost on our table. I mean I could have poked her with my fork. On the top she was wearing a shawl made out of burlap, the fabric potato bags used to be made of. Her friends all looked stylin. She kept clutching at her shawl but honey that wasn't covering the part that needed covering.

It really looked like an outfit from a classic bad dream but she made the choice to wear it, and we had to look at it.

In the Cave

You see so many pictures of Jesus in Italy that it gets on your nerves, even if you did study medieval art for 3 semesters. We needed something else. We were staying at a goofy hotel in Lucca where the three guys at the desk seemed to be Manny, Moe and Jack.

Anyway, I found there was a cave tour somewhere in the mountains and we took a drive, first to the beach at Montereggio, then up a road of many switchbacks to Grotta del Vento, not too far from Castelnuova. When the metal door slammed behind us on the cave tour, I wondered if my claustrophobia was going to kick in, but I remained at ease, and was so surprised by how the cave looked like the inside of someone's stomach. It was wet and oozing.

I've been really wiped out since our return. This morning I woke up suddenly when the bagel in my dream had a baby alligator stuck in the cream cheese. It was not quite 4 am. I meant to blog an orderly trip through Italy but that may never happen.

Mother's Day

Jon took this lovely picture in the courtyard of the National Etruscan Museum, in the Villa Giulia part of the Villa Borghese Gardens. Gone were the miserable shuffling hordes at the Vatican Museum, (which Jon described as the tenth circle of hell though Dante only knew 9!)

This museum was peaceful, nearly empty, and full of wonderful art by the Etruscans, an early Italian civilization about which much is not known, even now. They even had an alphabet that's never been decoded.








The image below is the style of art they're best known for.



Beautiful sensitivity to horse and riders' poses.

I called my mother the morning I got back and the S.S. Dementia had docked. "I'm in London," she said. "Where are you?" She was upset I hadn't gone to London to meet up with her and sounded very agitated.

This morning she didn't sound agitated, but she answered by saying, "Have you heard the terrible news?" "No, what?" thinking uh oh.

"The beads are missing, and everyone's in an uproar. Without the beads the race can't be run.
People have looked for them everywhere. They've even called in the FBI."

"It's like some cheap mystery novel" she added.

She had to get off the phone because she was off to New York, but she'd call me when she got there, around noon. I'll be at the races then, hmm, maybe I'm a suspect. I do have some goofy beads I sometimes wear to the racetrack . But don't tell anyone! Don't tell the FBI!

The very bad not good Granny (not my mom)

I went to visit my mother this weekend, aka "fun in the nuthouse".
As I came through the glass door on Friday morning, Toney, pictured above, was poised very still by the door waiting for her big moment.

The door was open and she ran out. Shouts of "TONEY!" and I turned to run after her but the same nurses aides called out, "Don't chase her, she's dangerous!" as they rushed past me.

Toney is 100 years old. She stands very straight and has a full goofy white haircut which you can see I could never get right in my sketches. She was RUNNING- she's 100 years old but she was running, and she jumped on the bus parked at the entrance. When the nurse's aide jumped on to catch her, Tony ripped off the aide's top "exposing her to the world", and scratched the aide too. She told her, "You have an evil heart and God will never forgive you."

Woah! No wonder my mother's one of their favorites. They say Toney is wearing a bracelet which locks the doors when she gets near them but she's figured out how to stand just out of lockdown range and then break out when someone opens the door unsuspectingly. She's 100 years old! She moves like an athlete.

As for my mother, her trip continues, but now it's sometimes by rail. We were in Florida on Friday and in England on Saturday. In England I was trying out for a stage role, but she didn't think I'd get the part. Something about not being forceful enough, and she wondered why I was dressed like I was Chinese. ? She carries on a monologue that's filled with curious details and funny comments, but I had the feeling I could have been there or not, for all the real impression it made on her: "so grand that you could come, taa taa".

When the 300 plus pounder nurse's aide waddled in to the small room where we were hanging, she said, "It's my husband!" My father was tall and slender and looked like Abraham Lincoln.

It was stuff that was funny but when it's your mom it isn't so funny. And there were all the other patients which I could have fun describing but I'll leave it alone. I only knew how to spell Toney's name because they've posted a sign for her on another door telling her to turn back (before it's too late?)

prophecy of darkness

I've been trying to find a good home for our aviary of doves, some of whom are almost fifteen years old. I'm especially fond of that light tan dove in the picture, and it's not an easy task for me. But we'll be in Colorado from May to December and not planning on having someone live in the house this time.

I thought I'd found a perfect person on a pigeon forum I stumbled upon. Imagine, a pigeon forum. I was a little worried that her email address was prophecy_of_darkness@ but kept up the correspondence. (hope she's not going to eat their little heads off.) I learned you have to watch out for hunting dog trollers if you post on Craigslist because they will indeed do bad things to your birds.



So I sent her pictures of the birds. We'd already discussed shipping the birds. She wrote back:

Sally,

OMG.They're beautiful !!!! I want you to know we will be building an 8ftx8ftx4ft indoor aviary for them,in my bird room(pa winters are far too harsh for them,so they will be indoors,in an aviary-with a very natural appearance).We already have the guy,paid to do it and the plans made,plus some of the stuff bought for it.I will send you pictures of the aviary when it is completed.I hope alls well there,with you.

Have a great day.

Then today I get this grim email:

Sally,

We are having some family issues right now.My father is not doing well(his cancer is advancing-he told me last night),my partner just got diagnosed with RA,(had pain/swelling in her wrists-we assumed was tendonitis,and went to the drs yesterday-he diagnosed her with rhumatoid arthritis)and my partners daughter is having some turmoil with her BF and is moving out and into a rental,and we are trying to help her out.She has a 3yr old son,that is involved,and we are taking her 3 cats in,on top of it all because the only place she could find wont allow her cats-and she did not want to lose them completely.She is not safe to stay with her BF as he is hurting her.I am very very sorry to have to decline to take the birds,right now.I really wanted to give them a good home.It just would not be the best timing to give them all what they need to feel safe and secure here.My life has just been turned upside down.I hate to go back on my promise to you,I am not like that,and have been struggling with the concept of weather to still take them in or not.When it comes down to it,its whats best for the birds.I would not be being fair to them,if I took them at this point and time.

I hope you understand,and are not too upset about it.I feel bad for doing this to you.I'm very sorry about this,and I hope you find suitable homes for them.

• Sounds so awful but maybe one awful thing too many? Or maybe her email address really was prophetic.

Molly at Corriganville

We took a hike in the hills of Corriganville yesterday, where many B Westerns were shot over the years. What I saw on my dog walk today was like a cheap movie.

I was walking Molly across CSUN to the post office on this hot hot afternoon. I tried to stay on the shady side of the street. As we were getting near Reseda Blvd. I saw two guys punching each other in the middle of the street and yelling at each other, as cars zipped around them. I've never seen people punch each other before. It's not the sound you hear in the movies.

I moved into a shadier area thinking I wanted to be out of any line of fire. But I kept watching. There were two other guys also watching the action, one on a skateboard, one with a backpack.

A car drove up really fast and a second guy jumped out and joined in the fight, then two of them got in the car and drove off really fast on the wrong side of the street, straight through two stop signs, heading into the campus, with cars slamming on brakes all around them.

The guy who was still on foot was catching his breath curbside. He looked like his name could be Duane: good looking skinny guy with sideburns and a Western shirt, sleeves rolled up. He said, "God damn they stole from my store." He worked, or managed Rite Aid on the corner. No sooner had he said this than cops converged from all directions. Only a beat after that and there was a helicopter over head!

The victim held his hand out for the cops as they pulled up to show them the license number he'd written on his palm! The guy on the skateboard said, "It was a 1992 4 door Toyota Corolla heading east and they drove through two stop signs. " The guy with the backpack was the one who'd dialed 911. I was just the ninny with the police dog who watched from the bushes.

The first wave of cop cars was off after them.

Another cop car pulled up and the nervous looking officers jumped out convinced that the victim was the criminal. Everyone had to put hands up. (Well, I didn't.) They couldn't decide if the story was true or not. I said to one cop, "It's true what they're saying." I was amazed how detailed the description was that the skateboard guy gave. He had long dark hair and sunglasses, with a funny hat on.

The backpack guy said to Duane, "Hey man, you should have told me you were p.a." What does that mean? The backpack guy had picked up the stuff that was dropped by the thieves and gave it back to the guy.

As I was walking back a CSUN professor on a bicycle stopped to admire Molly and I told her what had just happened. "Citizenry in action" she declared, and said she was going to tell the whole story to her students.

We stopped so Molly could take a swim in the koi pond, then headed home.

in today's La Times!

Let's (Not) Have Lunch

I was a tag along yesterday for a miserable lunch. Ever meet somebody who just spews creepy stories? This older British gal next to me claimed the aisle seat in a booth because :

• she might have spasms and will frighten everyone (because her hip surgery wasn't quite right.)
• told how she'd been on a run away horse with her daughter beside her and their stirrups got twisted together right before they came to a fence.
• told how another runaway horse threw her and she broke two vertebrae. (All these horses she owned.)
  
• told all about her husband's experimental stem cell cancer treatment as they drained and refilled his body. (he was in the booth too.)
  
• told how she and two other realtors got locked into a house by accident the day before and the other two realtors had accidents.
• warned us that in Italy people come up behind you and slit your throat to get your wallet. (we're going there in two months.)
  
• told how her disabled son liked to take his pants off in Harrod's and scream.
• told me how and what to put in the decoy purse I had to carry in Italy for the pickpockets.
• covered her ears at possibility of a dirty word as part of her story.

When the waitress came to ask how everything was, (after three out of our four had already sent back their fish and chips for being ice cold), I said "It's awful, it's terrible, it tastes like it was cooked last week and reheated many times." "Would you like a box for that?" the waitress asked.

I never complain about food at restaurants, only when I get home.

Today Dinah's horse had to have emergency colic surgery, and we couldn't locate Dinah. Major awful, but her horse came through it okay. Major awful.

My mother is still living on the S.S. Dementia. Today she said, "They can't decide whether this boat should go across the river or to Paris and back."

She said, "I like disciplined straight lines for everyday living, not for creative things, but for everyday living."

I told her I was going to visit her in about a month. She said, "Are you going to leave the baby in the nursery?"

Google Surprises

okay I confess, I set something on google to send me notices when I appear on the internet. Thus I came upon this hysterical post.

and this lovely piece eekers.

Both were in the same google announcement and it didn't seem right not to include the second one as well. Or maybe I should just sit down and shut up.

Released!

I saw this leaf yesterday morning and wondered what it was telling me.

Day 5 of jury selection and I knew: I was released from this dreadful trial and wouldn't have to spend any more days looking at the back side of skull tattoos or the sleeping attorney. Four accused of extortion and homicide. Four defense attorneys, one d.a. About 80 prospective jurors for all five days of jury selection and started with more than 100. Very unusual to have such a big jury pool but they knew people were going to resist this case.

Early on I'd expressed my general revulsion for skull tattoos, but Jon was sure they'd keep me on the jury for who knows what reason. The trial is expected to run three weeks at least.

Then yesterday the goofball sleepy attorney mentioned that the crime happened in Canoga Park and zingo I remembered reading about the crime and OOH got to go in the back corridor and talk to the judge and all the attorneys about what I remembered. And I was in Colorado at the time but I remembered right, yes sir. (checked the facts today after I was released.)

The judge who sits up so high on his throne in the court room and was quite personable turned out to be a teenser fellow in person.

Today I dressed in the weirdest combo I could put together and horrified Jon as I walked out the door, but it wasn't the clothes that got me excused, I was already on the big list. YAY HOORAY! Everyone who got excused looked incredibly happy while waiting for their get out of jail passes.

Actually I think a criminal trial like this could be really interesting, but the obvious local gang angle scared me.

yeah

Well I just spoke to my mother and she's sitting on a bench in Princeton. She said she hopes it'll be a lot more fun when I graduate- it's really supposed to be fun, but they're bringing all the mothers in in wheelbarrows and the sons aren't happy about it. Anyway, I'm supposed to meet her at the yacht house gate tonight between 5 and 7.

Been a while

Yeah, holiday spirit. I've been trying to put my computer back together again and I came upon this picture Dinah created about 8 years ago. That's our old dog Lulu on the front porch in Colorado.

Market Mischief

At City Market in Montrose yesterday one of those product hawkers was set up with a little stand near the meat department. He was pitching a product called Chef Michel, something like that.

His stand was nicely arranged with tiny cans and a bowl full of multi colored snack pieces. I was watching as a woman walked up, took a handful of the snack pieces and tossed them in her mouth.

Only then did he tell her, "Oh, this is dog food."

She hawked and squawked and spit it out. About a minute and a half later someone else came up and did the same thing.

You know this weirdo food guy was getting a kick out of it. I bet he got a kick out of the store too before the day was up. The product is made by Purina. I didn't try it.

Wildfire

We drove out to Rico for another lunch at the Argentine Grille. It was still tasty, but the famous understudy of Wolfgang Puck had left the premises and last week's waiter was this week's chef. The waitress was mighty cute in her panty length denim shorts but it may have been her first day. "Would you like your bill now?" It was a s-l-o-w lunch.

When we got home we could see a wildfire starting that is much more dramatic now at sunset. It looks to be about 20 miles away. The weird thing is that all the Smoky the Bear fire danger signs we drove past have arrows pointing low. But if there were arson arrows they might be pointing off the chart.

There's a big out of business resort just about at the x,y position of this fire as I look at it from the porch. hmmm... what will the papers report?

No winds here, and the smoke is blowing north.

Blaine Basin Revisited

We decided to hike to Blaine Basin today. We haven't hiked all the way up since I broke my ankle crossing a stream at the top three? years ago and had to hike all the way out on a broken ankle.

To get there you drive through miles of Ralph Lauren's Double RL ranch until you reach the trailhead at the base of Mt. Sneffels. Usually the parking lot was empty but today it was very full.

The day was very dramatic.

The vehicles in the parking lot were all search and rescue trucks. I thought they must just be doing a rehearsal drill, but they were there for a rescue. They said they'd gotten word that the guy was going to be okay but they really didn't seem to want to tell us much. I misunderstood what the mumbly guy told me and thought the rescue was on the Blue Lakes trail, one of two choices at the trailhead.

We went on our walk, marvelling at the beautiful flowers, like this one which was actually a crimson maroon color but the bright sunlight washed it out.



As the hike got longer and we got hungrier we were getting crabby about where we were headed. Then two young guys in great shape approached and said they were with Search and Rescue. They passed us. Like the White Rabbit, they were very late to join the group.

What we learned from them: Search and Rescue here is all volunteer. A guy fell 100 feet while ice climbing on Mt. Sneffels. His bud placed the emergency call. They were on a steep ice field and he had a broken leg and injured back.

We hiked on. It got steeper and the vertigo was trying to kick in.



We reached Blaine Basin. There were other people there. Before we spoke to anyone we plopped down on a rock ledge and ate our excellent turkey sandwiches and split the bag of chips. Molly was distracted by other dogs at Blaine Basin, so we had to put the leash on. I looked at the stream where I'd broken my ankle with some anger. The deja vu aspect of the hike was another thing to deal with...



(notice I'm the Sherpa on all these hikes.)

Once we'd eaten our lunches without sharing, we joined the others up there. There were three search and rescue folks listening to two different radios. They also told us they're volunteers. I told them my broken ankle story. Got to get respect where you can.



Another beautiful alpine flower.

What we learned: The ice climber hadn't bought the $5 search and rescue card, so even though they had cel phone reception, the local helicopters wouldn't come. They had to get a rescue helicopter in from Moab Utah which is a long way off. The pilot of the very long helicopter which we saw fly in over the mountain tops was scared! We heard it on the radio! He wouldn't land. He'd never flown in high mountains before. So weird to hear a pilot just sounding worried while the ground people next to us were telling him where to go.



Those circles are the rescuers and the injured.



It's above 12,000 feet. It was a hot day even at Blaine Basin, so the footing must have been wet ice on a steep slope.

The pilot was heading back to a safe spot in hopes the six folks on the ice with the wounded guy (gal?) could move down to a spot with more clearance. The S & R folks we'd been talking to were heading up to the ice to help move the injured down.




Wow, if we'd had cel reception I'd have gotten this treatment. I know that sounds so self absorbed but this was the site of a major incident in my life.

It was 3:30 and time for us to start down. On the way down we ran into more S & R people coming up. The update was the pilot was not going to land anywhere and had gone back to Moab. The injured was stabilized. The new people were bringing sacks of headlamps because they were going to hand carry the injured out and down on a stretcher, and figured it would be a "slog of about five hours." In the dark- geez- it was perilous in the day. Log bridges, loose rocky NARROW trails.

We passed quite a few more coming up to help on our way down, including a super buff couple carrying two pizzas! We thought they must be high tech stretcher parts but no they were pizzas, because the folks up top had been there since morning without food. We thought maybe it should have been four or six pizzas but anyway... A straggler was eating a piece of pepperoni pizza. It looked so good.

Maybe we'll learn the outcome, maybe not. All in all we estimate 20-30 volunteers were involved in this rescue. I thought some good horses could have helped out in many ways. Photos thanks to Jon!

Why you hire a professional

We're planning an overnight trip to Leadville, Colorado, the town at the highest elevation in the US (over 10,000 feet) and a town with a big mining history in the 19th century. Baby Doe? We're going Thursday.

We almost made the mistake of going a day earlier, when 2000 cyclists will be on the road on a mad journey around the Rockies with one night in Leadville. Can you imagine having to pass 2000 cyclists on a two lane highway?

The places where we can stay are limited because Molly's coming along, but I'm sure you'll agree the web site designer at the Alps motel could have found a more appealing picture than the one above.

Even better, though, is the copy on the pet policy page:

All pets must be registered. Guest concealing and not paying for their pets will be charged $ 200.00 Your pet may not use the parking lot as a toilet. We don't allow any of our guests to do that.

Well I'm glad to know there will be quality guests at the establishment that don't use the parking lot as a toilet!

Hot on the Trail

We tried to go for a walk this morning but got rained on so turned around. It stopped raining as soon as we got home. We noticed that the caramel buns I'd put in the meadow yesterday were entirely gone. Hmm...

It looked ominous all day but never rained, so around 4:30 we decided to walk up the cut and back to get some exercise. The cut is the way too vertical trail that takes you to the mesa top.

About 2/3 of the way up it started to rain, of course, but we kept going. We figured in the aspen groves it wouldn't be so bad.

We reached the top, Just over the ridge, and Molly rushed at some dark forms. A herd of cattle! We called her back, and good dog Molly returned, but not without turning around to make sure it was the right decision.

Jon grabbed her by the collar and said, "Take off my belt!" Huh? I thought, then remembered belts can work as leashes. But they were REI [pants with sewn in belt.)

You'd think the cattle would rush off the way elk or deer will, but instead they were moving in on us in a semi-circle! And in the second row a bull was humping a cow while looking at us!! BULL? RUN!

We scurried down that cut in record time. Molly stayed with us. The rain came harder and harder and we squished along home, soaked through. Now the rain has stopped.

(image from my Celestial Seasonings tea box.)

Remember This?

We're going white water rafting again tomorrow. This time we're starting near Placerville and hauling out near the Norwood Hill.

I'm SKEERED! Read about last year's adventure here.