Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Fiction and Reality

I got caught up in three books this week, two of which are pertinent to this entry. One was a book I actually read and one was an audio book. I was hooked on both so much that for the past two days almost all I have done (other than going to Ned's yesterday) is finish the books.

One was "The Confession," by John Grisham, whose hero is a defense attorney. In this book we find out what happens when your defendant is found guilty. He has been claiming that he is innocent for 9 years, and the book starts in the middle of the frenzy that goes on trying to keep him out of the death chamber....especially when the real guilty party comes forward voluntarily and agrees to confess to the crime, because he is dying and wants to die with a clear conscience. He has items belonging to the victim and says he is ready to lead the police to where he buried her

But the killer is 3 states away, newly released from prison, and on parole, so can't leave the state. An idealistic minister agrees to drive him to Texas to tell his story, even though it is against the law for him to leave the state.

Half of this book tells the story of the minister trying to get the killer to Texas in time to stop the execution, the other half is what effect that journey ultimately has on all the parties involved, from the young man about to be executed, to the cop whose brutality got a false confession from the guy about to be executed, to all of the attorneys on both side of the case. It details how it affects them, the judges, and the governor, and even the town where the execution is to take place and the effect it has on the pastor himself.

The second book was Michael Connelly's "The Fifth Witness," If you ever want to know how to structure a defense, this is a great book to read. A woman is accused of murder, though she insists she was framed, and you follow her attorney as he goes through all the steps of defending her. He also talks about how he presents his case to the jury–what part is play acting, what witnesses are presented for a smokescreen, what is grandstanding to the press, etc. etc. etc. You get the feeling that these attorneys care less about whether the clients are guilty or innocent and more about the game of getting them off.

I thought about both of these books when comments began to appear on the Internet about the injustice of Casey Anthony being found not guilty of the death of her daughter.

I have not followed the trial, though it has been impossible to turn it off since on some days it was All Case All Day. I try not to have an interest in the real life misery of people as their lives fall apart. But I also realize that things like this are a goldmine for the media. The most titillating bits are broadcast, the most remotely connected people are interviewed, the most adorable pictures of the victim are shown over and over again, therapists and attorneys who have zero connection to the case are interviewed as if they have some secret inside information. All offer speculation, nothing else. If you can get someone crying, it's a money shot.

But the thing is that we get the highlights. We don't get to examine the evidence or hear the jury instructions about what can and can't be considered in deliberation. The media fuels our need to know, satisfies our desire for hearing the most salacious tidbits.

I feel sorry for the members of this jury, who will surely be eviscerated in the court of public opinion.

I, too, want justice for Caylee and based on what the media has broadcase for the past several weeks it certainly seemed like there could be only one possible verdict.

But I was not a juror. I didn't have evidence and testimony under my fingertips. I didn't know what information I was permitted to use in deliberation and what I was not. Attorney summations lasted an hour or more and I did not hear those.

I thought back to the one jury I served on. It was a case of desecration of a graveyard. Four teenagers were involved. Three of them had already been tried and convicted. The fourth, our case, claimed the other three had offered him a ride home and on the way they stopped to overturn gravestones and otherwise create havoc in the cemetery. He claimed that he just sat in the car and watched and was not a part of the crime.

Now, looking at this kid, who looked the sort of kid who was most likely get get a wedgie and who was most likely to have a slushee tossed in his face, you just knew that he went along with the group, either out of fear of what they would do to him if he did not, or out of wanting to be part of the popular guys.

But the thing was that when we went into that jury room we had to admit that the district attorney had not proved her case beyond a shadow of a doubt. We could not, in good conscience convict him with the evidence she gave us and the instructions we were given.

And so I think about the Anthony jury and their work in coming up with a "not guilty" (which is different from "innocent") verdict. And I feel sorry for them for the criticism they are going to receive. I have to believe they did the best they could

There will never be the justice for Caylee that people are clamoring for, but if her mother is guilty of the crime, whether in jail or not, she will will get her punishment anyway. Can you imagine leaving the courtroom and going back to life as usual after this?

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Wrinkly Toes

Brianna was crawling around under the table with Ned's dog Bouncer while the rest of us were finishing the delicious Mexican Egg breakfast Ned had prepared.

Suddenly her head popped up, those little blonde curls bouncing. She looked at me and said "Grandma, what happened to your feet?" Confused, I asked what she meant. "Why do you have wrinkly toes?" she asked. My answer of "because I'm old" didn't seem to satisfy her. I don't think she has made the connection between age and sagging flesh yet.

(She should have been with me in the restroom of Target yesterday. Their hand dryer is one of thse high powered ones that push any loose flesh all over the place. It's like having one of those computer games where you can distort faces by sliding pieces of them up or down or sideways.)

Wrinkly toes and all it was fun spending the day with the Santa Barbara Sykeses (and the Sacramento ones too).

Brianna always has fun playing with Uncle Ned

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She helped me sprinkle red and gold sugar on Daddy's birthday cupcakes (49er colors, you know!)

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The cupcakes must have been good. Brianna dove right into hers.

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She also loved Bouncer (though we aren't sure if Bouncer was as happy to be with her as she was to be with Bouncer!!)

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Ned brought out some of the hats that my father used to bring out when our kids were little and they went to visit him...they are World War I or II era military headgear.

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(You may not be able to tell that Bouncer is wearing a leather Amelia Earhart type aviator's hat.)

Before the party moved on over to the house of Tom's friend Lance, Bri and Ned spent some time drawing together.

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Tom didn't host his annual 4th of July beach BBQ this year, partly because of the impending birth of Lance's first baby...and celebrations by Laurel's family here in the Sacramento area. So we missed our annual trip to the beach, but today was a nice low key way to celebrate Tom's birthday.

Monday, July 4, 2011

The Putah Creek Cafe

Winters is a small town (less than 7,000 people) some 13-14 miles from Davis. As you leave Davis, you pass through an avenue of walnut trees...

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...and then out into the farmland for the rest of the ride to Winters. It's a popular destination for bikers, who decide to ride out to have breakfast at the Putah Creek Cafe, a location which came into some prominence lately when it was featured on the Food Network's Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. Several of our friends in Davis make it a regular kind of thing, driving out to the Putah Creek Cafe for Sunday breakfast.

In my biking days, nearly ten years ago, Cindy an I made that ride once. It was a triumphant day for me. I had long thought of biking out to Winters, but never thought I could handle the nearly 30 miles round trip.

We hadn't planned to go to Winters, but when we got to the place where the road splits and heads off in the direction of Winters...

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...Cindy asked me if I wanted to go the whole way, and I said yes. And so we actually made it to the Putah Creek Cafe, only since I hadn't planned on it, I had neither my bike lock nor any money with me, so Cindy went in and got some oatmeal for us and we ate it sitting outside, guarding the bikes.

Afterwards, I suggested to Walt that we go out there for breakfast some time. It was always one of those things that we were going to do "someday."

In 2008, Walt's friends Jim and Ann came to town. I was going to give them a tour of SF and we were going to start with lunch. Walt was in Santa Barbara with his mother when they arrived, so it was just the three of us. Naturally, I took them to the Putah Creek Cafe.

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They loved it.

I kept suggesting that Walt and I go out there some Sunday, but somehow it never happened. Today, I finally decided was the day.

The car headed out into the farmland and began to pass clumps of bike riders, all headed in the direction of Winters.

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Beyond the fork in the road, bikers crossed over the famous Stevenson Bridge, that graffiti covered landmark over Putah Creek....

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...through the countryside which seemed to salute the approaching bikers...

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...until finally the sign for the town came into view.

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Winters has that lovely little middle America feel. There is a nice park with a covered, whitewashed bandstand, benches to lounge on, brick on the streets...and there was the Putah Creek Cafe.

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The cafe was subtly ready for the upcoming 4th of July holiday.

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They set me right up with all the necessary items...

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The cafe is famous for comfort food and the selections are few in each category. I chose a California omelet, which came positively loaded with Monterey Jack cheese, what must have been at least a half, if not a whole avocado, lots of chopped bacon. Nothing skimpy about the amounts. It arrived smothered in a buttery goodness and was fabulous.

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It was worth the 13 mile drive and I feel finally fulfilled ... but I'd like to go back again some day.

On the way home, I passed by the old train bridge.

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If we go back again, I'd like to take a walk and investigate the bridge and perhaps walk around more of the town.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Sunday Stealing

(click the icon to play along)


Sunday Stealing: The Faceless Forth Of July Meme

1. Last movie you saw in a theater? Water for Elephants

2. What book are you reading? Ice Cold by Tess Gerritsen and The Confession by John Grisham

3. Favorite board game? Scrabble

4. Favorite magazine? The Food Network magazine

5. Favorite smells? the ocean, puppy breath, baby powder, fresh coffee

6. Favorite sounds? The crash of the ocean waves, babies and puppies making those little grunting sounds that they do, a big chorus singing in a Gothic cathedral

7. Worst feeling in the world? grief, depression

8. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up? Is it light yet? (it's usually 3 a.m.)

9. Favorite fast food place? Jack in the Box

10. What’s under your bed? a litter of dust bunnies.

11. Finish this statement. “If I had lot of money I’d….? try to use it to improve something in my world, sponsor more children through Compassion, buy a computer with much more memory and someone to set it up for me.

12. Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? Only if Polly has had a big dinner

13. Storms – cool or scary? cool

14. Favorite drink? ice water

15. Finish this statement, “If I had the time I would….”? I'm retired. I have all the time in the world, so I would just do what I do already.

16. If you had to dye your hair another color, what would be your choice? auburn. Like Maureen O'Hara had in The Quiet Man

17. Favorite place to relax? right here

18. Name all the different cities/towns you’ve lived in? San Francisco, Berkeley, Albany (California), Oakland, Davis...all in California

19. Favorite sports to watch? Horse racing, basketball, springboard diving

20. Would you like to be born as yourself again? And live this life all over again? No, thank you!!!

Premeditated Shopping

I am guilty of premeditated shopping. When I knew that I would be going out and passing just a stone's throw from Michael's Craft Store, it was a crime already committed. Haul me off to jail right now, officer. I won't even put up a fight--if I can only bring my Michael's bag along with me.

I actually convinced myself that I had a legitimate reason for going in. This is the weekend, so time to write to the two soldier Amandas. But it's also 4th of July weekend so I used flag-themed paper, a blue envelope with red and white stripes on it, a Statue of Liberty return address label, and a Bill Mauldin stamp.

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I convinced myself that it would be really groovy to add a flag sticker too, and maybe some stars. But I didn't have any of those things and surely I could find them at Michael's.

I damn near didn't, actually. Nearly $50 worth of stuff later (stickers, labels, stuff from the $1 bin--note cards, rubber stamps, ink, etc.) I still hadn't found flag themed stuff, but then as I was making one last pass down the center aisle, there it was--flags, soldier stuff, stars, glitter, paper, etc. I only bought the flags, but felt that my trip was now justified -- and surely I'll use all the rest, right?

When I got out of the store, there was a police officer standing in front of the car in front of me in the parking lot -- actually in front of me and one over -- peeking through the window. She didn't seem to be leaving, but just kept peeking in the window on either side, and circling the car. It's a very hot day, so I assumed that maybe there was a critter in there. Not a baby because she seemed to be looking at the floor, but maybe a dog inside, crouched on the floor, miserable in the heat.

Pretty soon two police cars showed up and equipment was hauled out of each and now four officers were peeking in the window of the car and a gathering of looky-loos had assembled. I was in the middle of a Michael Connelly audio book, so naturally I was imaging blood and body parts and all sorts of nefarious doings.

I finally became embarrassed to be part of the crowd watching the police, so I backed out of my parking slot and did a couple of circles around the parking lot (I'm such a hypocrite!) but by the time I finally left to go home, they were still peeking in the window and trying to get the car door opened.

It was probably something as simple as someone locking her keys in the car, but I'll never know...though the first police officer was looking on the passenger side.

By the time I got home, the mail had already been picked up, so I never got to use my flag stickers either, but now I'll have them for next time. And I have new toys too. :)

I only had an hour and a few minutes left of the book I was listening to (Connelly's "The Fifth Witness") and, as he always does he had sucked me in. The first third of this book I thought I had finally found a Connelly book that bored me. The hero of this one is Mickey Haller ("The Lincoln Lawyer") and it involves a murder case, where the defendant insists she's being set up.

As I wrote in my review, if anybody wants to know how to construct and present a case at trial, this is the book to follow. Painstaking explanation of what he is going after and why, and then more painstaking trial description, explaining the order of witnesses, the "acting" by both of the attorneys for the jury's benefit. But by somewhere midway through the book, he hooked me. Connelly always does that. He's great at that.

The story zigs where it should zag, you're convinced you've figured it all out and then it goes off in another direction before swinging back again. I could be more specific, but I want anybody interested in books like this to go out and buy it for yourself and enjoy the ride.

Saturday, July 2, 2011

That's AWESOME

When I listen to the news at night, it can sometimes (sometimes?) be very depressing. We're going to hell in a handbag, draconian abortion clinic laws are going to result in thousands of women having no access to help, strict immigration laws in So. Carolina are causing thousands of dollars in losses to farmers, who can't find anybody to work in their fields, and the wars around the world rage on and on and on.

From time to time it's nice to just stop all the doom and gloom and think about all the truly awesome things there are in this world. Here are some awesome things that make me smile and give me hope for the future.

- Rainbows

- Double rainbows

- Seeing a double rainbow when you actually have a camera with you.

- Butterflies

- Puppy breath

- A driver actually leaving room for you to move into his/her lane

- The view of San Francisco on a clear, sunny day from the tunnel in Marin County

- The view of San Francisco anywhere on a clear day.

- The sound of the ocean crashing on the shore and the smell of the seaweed on the beach

- The smell of a rose--not a hot house rose, but a real deep red rose that someone grew in their yard.

- Solving a vexing computer problem

- Elephants

- A hillside covered with a carpet of wildflowers

- A driving rainstorm, when you're inside and can listen to it pounding on the roof.

- The smell of a musty old bookstore stacked high with books

- The sound of a big chorus echoing in a gothic church

- A really good stage performance

- Amazing architecture. Look at the details. See things you never saw before in familiar buildings you see every day.

- The fields in springtime when all the baby lambs, cows, and horses are just learning how to play.

- Waterfalls when they are at their peak

- The colors of Southern France

- Van Gogh

- The Cliffs of Mohr

- Flying over Greenland and being able to see the mountains

- Sharing good memories with good friends

- Watching a puppy learn how to open its eyes and begin to take the first wobbily steps.

- Chocolate croissants

- The finale of Riverdance. Really. After all these years.

- Yosemite

- A fabulous creme brulée

- Having a child who lets you know she thinks you're awesome, especially when you're convinced you're not.

Life is good, if you keep your eyes and your heart open and look at the beauty and the goodness around you. And maybe keep the TV news off for awhile.



That's AWESOME!

Friday, July 1, 2011

Day by Day

For many, many years there was a routine at this house. It started around October or November, when the calendars for the next year came out in the book stores. Both Walt and I would look for the right calendar to hang in the kitchen. The calendars were always meaningful. Once we had a year of scenes from The Wizard of Oz (hmmm...I wonder who chose that calendar...?) Several years there were calendars from TV shows (like Star Trek). After we started traveling, calendars tended to be from England or Ireland or Scotland. And then when we started fostering dogs, we had a year or two of dog calendars. So many choices....so much fun picking them out.

When I finally had our calendar for the next year, the first thing I would do was to get out my little birthday book and copy down all of the birthdays on it, so I would remember to send a card.

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I don't know when I started keeping that little book of birthdays, but so many people in the book have died and so many people I never see or hear from...and there are even people in the book (Peggy Drown, on this page, for example) that I don't remember who they are or where I knew them from. It's also woefully out of date. Anybody I've met in the last 10 years probably isn't it because I don't mark birthdays down on a calendar any more. People whose birthday I want to remember are on an on-line calendar that reminds me a week before the birthday to send a card.

The problem with the wall calendar was that I never remembered to look at it. In the beginning, when the kids were home and we were doing so much kid-related stuff, I checked it all the time, but when we became empty nesters, I would record upcoming activities and then forget to check the calendar and sometimes forget the activity itself.

CalendarSierra.jpg (135779 bytes)When Peggy was here in 2000, she found the Sierra Club Calendar. Being a photographer, she loved the photographic quality of it. It has lots and lots of animal photos in it, and it was a good size for her desk. She bought a calendar for herself and bought one for me, as a gift.

Then I started to become bi-calendar. I still kept entries on the wall calendar, but I came to rely on the little Sierra Club desk calendar more and more, and over the years I stopped putting things on the wall calendar completely, and record everything on my Sierra club calendar, which sits at my left elbow and which I check many times daily.

I still have a wall calendar (see Photo of the Day), but now it is a piece of art that changes monthly. I tried at one time having an on-line calendar--and I actually do sort of keep that up, so I can sync it with my iTouch, but I forget to check that calendar enough to catch everything.

My mother also lives by her calendar. I think her calendar is one that Hospice of Marin (for which she volunteers) sells each year. Or it may be a free calendar that she received through the mail. It's a monthly caendar and it is almost embarrassing to look at her month. She has something for almost every day. Either people coming to visit, or social events she is going to or whatever. I get exhausted just looking at what she has coming up over the next month.

In comparison, my calendar is a weekly one and this week's page is typical of what most pages look like:

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The only thing on the calendar is my lunch with Ruth yesterday. That stuff written in the lower right hand corner was just some notes I was taken--my calendar has a lot of white space and it makes a handy doodle pad, when I need one.

This page, 3 weeks from now is about as busy as I get:

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There is a show to review on Tuesday, both a lunch and a dinner on Wednesday and Pinata Group overnight on Thursday. That, for me, is a busy week.

As with most things in her life, I just don't know how my mother does as much as she does!