From A Bird's Eye View

Posted in travel

BODIE, BUTTS AND…BENTON

August 29, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:8 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Well, judging from the response we got to Bob’s post last week, I’d say his butt is so popular it should have its own Twitter feed. He continues to do quite well in his recovery but his now-famous derrière is still stuck at home. So this week you’ll be traveling with me again to the Eastern Sierras. Last time I wrote about the ghost town of Bodie, which is a state park that has been preserved in a state of “arrested decay”. Hmmm, sounds like some people I know. In any event, this week our travels take us to the towns of Benton and Benton Hot Springs. If you’ve never heard of them, you’re in good company.

No gas or food here

Benton and Benton Hot Springs are on California Highway 6, 32 miles north of Bishop and 46 miles east of Mammoth Lakes. The towns are three miles apart and are literally in the middle of nowhere. More on that in a moment. The “Bentons” were established in 1852 by the Paiute Indian tribe who sought out the warm springs that surround the area. During the gold rush Benton became a stop-over spot for fortune seekers traveling to and from the western Sierras. With the discovery of gold in Bodie, Benton became a supply center for the mines and the population swelled to 5,000 people. The heyday of the towns was from 1862 to 1889 and then, much like Bodie, the gold-seekers moved on to other states and the towns that supported the mines fell on hard times.

Today, Benton Hot Springs is noted for a rustic bed and breakfast, aptly named The Inn at Benton Hot Springs. Remember when my brother wrote about the Inn at Spanish Bay? This is nothing like that. However, it is a jumping off point for many of the hiking trails in the area and is busy all summer long. Note that I said it is “rustic” – only one of the rooms has its own bathroom. The inn gets varying reviews on Yelp from “fabulous” to “flea bitten . Since sharing a bathroom with a stranger is my idea of Dante’s Inferno, I’m going to pass on the Inn. But if you want to hike the area it is your best – albeit your only – bet.

Hasn’t changed since the ’50’s

Benton is the real “town” of the two spots, although the current population has dwindled down to 165 hearty souls. The town’s gathering place is the Benton Station Cafe, which coincidentally is also the gas station, bus stop and post office. My husband and I have mixed memories of Benton Station. About 25 years ago on our first trip through the area we decided to stop and use the facilities at the cafe. It should be noted that Benton Station provides the only bathroom in a 30 mile radius so we assumed they had lots of visitors with urgent needs. When we walked through the front door everything and everyone came to a standstill. Every person in the place (and it was packed) stopped talking and turned to look at us as we walked through. No one said a word to us but they followed our every move. Images of “Deliverance” raced through our minds. We scurried to the restrooms, bought a couple of Cokes as a donation, and got the hell out of there. I have since learned that, like The Inn at Benton Springs, the Benton cafe has widely divergent reviews. While their pies are rated universally tasty, the food is deemed to be either “best ever” or “sick as a dog for three days”. It turns out there is a “good” cook and one whose vocational talents lie elsewhere. The locals have memorized the cafe schedule so they know which days will provide a delicious meal. After reading that I thought back to the day 25 years ago and surmised that we must have hit the cafe on a day when the “good” cook was working and the locals didn’t want us horning in on the food.

Our wing man

This year we decided to make the trip from Mammoth Lakes out to Benton once again. Truly, the scenery on the road there is spectacular – a mix of mountains and rolling hills, pines trees and a view of the southern end of Momo Lake. But knowing that the past can be prelude, we prepared ahead of time for this journey out to Benton. We brought Dash the Wonder Dog along to act as interference. After all, the locals might be wary of us, but who can resist the face of a cute dog?

Posted in Uncategorized

Hip, Hip Away!

August 22, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:30 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

I thought it was a Hookah Pipe

My research has turned up the fact that the very first successful hip replacement surgery was performed in 1960 and today, just in the United States, over 300,00 of them are done each year and there are over twice as many knee replacement surgeries. So a good number of my friends have had hip or knee replacements in the last few years and they have welcomed me into the ‘replacement club’; brother Jack has had both hips replaced. Others have asked me about my recent experience with my surgery because they see themselves as ‘replacement club’ candidates in the not-too-distant future. So I thought since the only place I’ll be visiting in the next month or two is my own house, on a walker, I don’t have a lot to write about other than my initiation into the ‘replacement club’.

At the pre-surgery meeting with my surgeon, Dr. Patel, I was told to have a restful weekend and be ready for surgery Monday morning. My snappy rejoinder was that I’d probably be sleeping through the whole process and suggested that he was the one who needed to have a restful weekend. He wasn’t amused. Dr. Jay Patel received his Bachelor’s degree in Biochemical Sciences from Harvard University where he graduated Summa Cum Laude and Phi Beta Kappa. He then went on to earn both a Master’s degree in Mechanical Engineering and his Medical Doctorate from Stanford University. So I was naturally concerned that my surgeon was a slacker.

Black & Decker

I arrived at Hoag Orthopedic Institute in Irvine at 5:30 Monday morning; my pre-op routine included Dr. Patel scribbling his initials on my right hip with a Sharpie to insure they don’t replace the wrong one, which has happened, more than once! Mine would be the first of 6 hip replacement surgeries that Dr. Patel would perform that day; each surgery taking about 60-90 minutes. I barely remember meeting the anesthesiologist and the next thing I knew I was waking up in post-op. I did take the opportunity, or make the mistake, of watching a YouTube video on hip replacement. It looked like a construction site, with people wielding crowbars, ball pein hammers, jigsaws and power drills (Black & Decker I believe); I was surprised that everyone wasn’t wearing hard hats. The video is not for the squeamish.

After the surgery Dr. Patel came in to let me know that everything had gone very well and I asked him if I could see the piece of hip that he took out. He said that it had lots of bone spurs on it and he threw it in the ‘bone yard’. My request came from a suggestion from a friend and fellow golfer, Tom Metz, who has a great sense of humor and suggested I ask for a ‘doggie bag’ and bring the bone home for my dog to gnaw on. Yeah, he’s a little sick too.

Margaritaville: “No, Mr. Sparrow you can’t go home that way!”

I must say that the staff at Hoag was unbelievable; not just professional, but I really got the sense that they enjoyed their work and did whatever it took to make my one-night stay there as comfortable as possible. They always had a smile on their face and enjoyed a good laugh. For example, I asked one of the attending nurses, Margarita Avalos (I called her ‘Margaritaville’ for ‘short’) when my catheter would be taken out. She looked at me with a very serious face and said, “Oh, it not so much when it will come out as how.” I asked what she meant, she said, “We take the end of the catheter and tie it to the door, then just slam the door.” Ouch!!!

Unlike the operation itself, I don’t get to sleep through the rehab, which is the not-so-fun part. Managing the pain is important along with doing the exercises prescribed by the physical therapist. The hardest part of rehab may be not drinking while on pain medication – and here I thought drinking was pain medication.

As part of my ‘exit interview’ they asked me when I get released was I going back to an abusive home. I didn’t think this was the time to bring up Linda’s and my heated discussion about who should take out the garbage. I will happily do it . . . now without a limp.

Posted in opinion

BODIE OR BUST!

August 15, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:7 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

The Bodie Car Show

A friend recently posted a picture of herself in the ghost town of Bodie, California, an abandoned mining town in the Eastern Sierras. I thought we were the only people crazy enough to take the three mile, pot-holed, kidney-damaging road back to see Bodie so it was good to know we weren’t alone. Assuming that most of our readers are not crazy (perhaps a rather large assumption) and therefore have not seen Bodie in person I thought I’d fill you in on this little piece of California history.

First of all, part of the reason Bodie is not well known is that it’s in a rather remote part of the country. It’s just off Highway 395, about 75 miles southeast of Lake Tahoe and 12 miles south of Bridgeport, a town so remote itself that it’s claim to fame is it’s high gas prices. (As a side note, my husband and I have been playing a game of “name the gas price” for 30 years whenever we approach Bridgeport and we always underestimate). The turnoff to Bodie is easy to miss – there is a small brown “State Park” marker but that’s it. Bodie is 13 miles east of the turnoff, 10 miles paved and the last three the teeth-jarring surface mentioned above. In fairness, there is a sign posted warning that the road is not paved the whole way, but given the condition of the road it should say “Turn Back Now if You Value Your Tires and Vertebrae”.

Downtown Bodie

Once you arrive in Bodie you will be transported back in time. The Bodie Foundation, which now runs Bodie for the State Park system, makes a point in informing visitors that Bodie has not been restored, rather, it’s been preserved in a state of arrested decay. Walking down the main street in Bodie is the closest you might ever come to experiencing a real mining town. A town with a storied past and a short lifespan. In 1859, as the gold rush in the western Sierra slopes began to dry up, miners rushed to the high desert of the eastern slopes in hopes of making their fortunes. W.S. Bodey laid claim to the land around Bodie and then set out to Mono City to get supplies for the town. Unfortunately, the winter of 1859 was particularly harsh and Mr. Bodey froze to death in a snow storm on his way back to camp. Nevertheless, others carried on and named the town in his honor – although a sign painter spelled the name phonetically and that’s the spelling that endured. Some gold was discovered but the town struggled through the 1860’s and early 70’s; by 1868 only two mining companies had been established and that year they both closed. In 1876, the Standard Company decided to mine Bodie again and discovered a profitable deposit of gold. Suddenly Bodie was transformed from a has-been mining camp to a boomtown. More discoveries were made in an adjacent mine in 1878, causing more and more people to seek their fortunes in this remote wilderness. It’s estimated that in its heyday the population of Bodie was 5,000-7,000 people with more than 2,000 buildings in town.

Bodie had amenities not usually found in a mining camp – a Wells Fargo Bank, several daily newspapers, restaurants, a volunteer fire company and even a brass band. There was a Chinatown neighborhood with several hundred inhabitants who had been brought in to work the mines. And just like in “Gunsmoke”, there was a red light district with their own Miss Kitty – Rosa May. But what Bodie was best known for was it’s free-wheeling, downright dangerous culture. There were 65 (!) saloons along the one mile stretch of Main Street. The cry of miners as they left their hometowns was “Goodbye God, I’m Going to Bodie”. The town became known for murders, shootouts, barroom brawls, and stagecoach holdups.

The General Store

The first signs of Bodie’s decline began in 1880 when silver and gold discoveries in Montana, Arizona and Utah lured the “get-rich-quick” miners to the new boomtowns. Most of the single men left town and Bodie turned into a family-oriented community. Despite the population decline, the mines flourished. A narrow-gauge railroad was built, the Bodie Railway & Lumber Company, bringing much needed lumber, cordwood, and mine timbers to town. But there was no going back to the boom times. By 1910 the population was down to 698 people. In 1912 the last newspaper, The Bodie Miner, shut down and in 1913 the Standard Mining Company finally closed its doors. In 1917, the Bodie Railway was abandoned and its iron tracks were scrapped. By 1920, the Census Bureau recorded Bodie’s population as 120 people. Despite the decline, Bodie had permanent residents through most of the 20th century, even after a fire ravaged much of the downtown business district in 1932. In fact, the post office operated until 1942, when the federal government required that all nonessential gold mines be shut down to support the war effort.

Just left Bodie

Bodie was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1961 and became a California State Park in 1962 when it was named the state’s official gold rush town. Only a small part of the town has survived, with about 110 structures still standing, including one of the gold mills. You can peer in the windows of the commercial buildings and homes, many remain as they were left – stocked with goods and personal belongings. Dinner plates on are the tables, food is in the pantry (I’m guessing way past its “best by” date) and cars are abandoned by the roadside. I think these abandoned items are what most intrigued me. It’s one thing to decide to leave town, but why did so many leave all of their belongings? After all, when most of the remaining Bodie residents left it was the height of the Depression, when clothing, food and furniture were in short supply for most. I’ve read some speculation that most residents just wanted to start over fresh and gave their belongings to the their friends while some thought they would return for their belongings when things got better at the new gold strike over the next hill. I guess we’ll never know.

Bodie is an attraction not to be missed and if you’re at all interested, make a trip soon. The cash-strapped California Assembly has had Bodie on the chopping block for several years. The Bodie Foundation raises money to keep it open but it’s not known how long they can continue to do so. Just remember, if you go, bring a spare tire and make sure your kidneys are in good shape.

Posted in opinion

Summer Concerts . . . Some Are Too Big

August 8, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:8 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

U2 Concert in Pasadena

As summer heads into the ‘dog days’ and recording artists wind up their very profitable summer concert schedules, I got to reading about concerts today and comparing them to concerts of yesteryear.

I discovered that back in 2009 the group U2 broke their own attendance record for the best-attended single concert performance when they performed at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena to a sellout crowd of 97,014! They broke their old record of 86,145 set in 1987 at JFK stadium in Philadelphia. That Rose Bowl performance grossed $9.9 million, which was 2^nd all time, only to the Three Tenors concert at Giant Stadium, New Jersey, which grossed $13.4 million. Pink Floyd was third, then the Rolling Stones with the Backstreet Boys (how did they get in there?) rounding out the top five.

Mick Jagger one inch tall

The Rolling Stones are at the top of the list for most expensive concert ticket at $624 A PIECE! Surprisingly Fleetwood Mac is second with a price of $307 per ticket and Justin Timberlake is a close third at $293. These are actually ticket prices, scalpers can end up getting significantly more.

I have to say I’m not a big fan of the ‘big concert’ although I saw the Eagles at the Forum in Los Angels last year (their final tour since leader Glen Frey passed away in January of this year) But I find at these big concert venues, unless your seats are front and center, the performers look about a half an inch tall, so you end up watching the entire ‘live in person’ concert on the Jumbotron.

Exterior of the hungry i

I’m going to sound like the old geezer that I am here, but seeing top performing acts today is nothing like it was when I was growing up. I think back specifically to going into San Francisco’s North Beach to the ‘hungry i’ to see the Kingston Trio perform. This of course was back in the ‘folk scare era’, the acoustic age, when folk music and the Kingston Trio were really big and I was really into folk music in general and their music in particular. I was also a fan of the Limelighters, who I’d seen at the hungry i and Peter, Paul & Mary who, when they were scheduled to sing on a Friday night at the hungry i, came over to College of Marin, where I was going to school, and did a short mid-day performance at an assembly for us – not too many top acts would do that today!

For not not familiar with the odd-named hungry i, how it got its name is not really clear. Some say the ‘i’ was short for ‘intellectual’, other say it was for ‘id’, either way, the story goes that as they were painting the name over the door, the painter ran out of paint (and apparently capital letters), so all that appeared was ‘hungry i’, and so it stayed.

The Kingston Trio at the hungry i

The hungry i was the spot to see all of the top folk and comedy acts of the day. It was a brick-walled basement nightclub with a capacity of about 75 -100 people, all sitting a few feet from the slightly raised stage on one level, no balconies or other fancy seating. John Philips, later of the Mamas & the Papa and his band, The Journeymen, were the house band. In the early days of the ‘i’, a young Barbra Streisand, who had never performed professionally in her life, begged to perform there for a single night promising that someday she would come back as a big star – I think she kept her promise!

And even though I did see, and I do mean see because I couldn’t hear, the Beatles perform in the Cow Palace in San Francisco in 1964, my favorite all-time concert was the night I saw the Kingston Trio at the hungry i. It was a double date with my good friend Don, but for the life of me I can’t remember either of our dates. (I hope we talked to them at some point during the evening!)

The Trio walked right past our seats on the aisle as they took the stage. No electronics, no speakers, just three guys (plus their stand-up bass player, ‘Buckwheat’) singing and playing their guitars and banjo. It was like they were singing to us. They would interact with the audience throughout the concert, we could actually see the expressions on their face. If you ever get a chance to listen to a ‘live’ recording of an act from the hungry i, you won’t hear thunderous applause because there are so few people there, but it’s probably ‘Standing Room Only’. And I know they didn’t set any records that night for top grossing performance – tickets were about $15

Later this year I will see Jimmy Buffett (yes, again!) at Irvine Meadows, at a large (15,000) amphitheater that will close its doors forever after his performance. Even thought I love his concerts, I won’t feel that Jimmy will be talking or singing to me and he will only be about a quarter inch high on the Jumbotron. It will be enjoyable, but it won’t be the Kingston Trio at the hungry i. I realize you can never go back, in fact the hungry i has moved down the street and is now a strip club.

Posted in opinion

LONG LIVE THE LAND LINE

August 1, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:7 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

It has come to my attention, somewhat startlingly, that I have become a Luddite. According to a recent Pew poll, as of the end of 2015 49% of household in the U.S. don’t have a landline telephone. That’s an amazing number. I shouldn’t be surprised, given that a good many of my family members are part of that 49%. I’ve always thought of myself as fairly tech savvy, given my age and all. I pour over the reviews of new phones and computers, I browse the Best Buy ad on Sunday to see the latest gadgets, and I know how to do Ctrl/Alt/Delete to get me out of most computer problems. Heck, I worked directly for the CIO of a major corporation and often received the “samples” of new equipment left with him by eager tech companies. So this revelation of a cell phone centric society came as a shock and one, I might add, with which I totally disagree. My opinion has only been strengthened in the past month when we were in a rental house and dependent solely on the cell phone.

Before I launch into my defense of landlines I readily admit that I also love my cell phone. I’m constantly on it to check email, Facebook, the stock market, and the weather. Oh yeah, and once in a while I actually use it as a phone. So although I am old enough to remember plug-in switchboards at my first job, I do realize that having a mobile device is a marvelous thing. I just don’t think it should be the only thing. Here’s why:

Convenience

I have nine telephones in my house so no matter what room I’m in, there is a phone nearby. But, you say, the cell phone is always with you. Yes, and that’s a good argument for some people. People who have pockets. Having only a cell phone over the past month caused me to realize something – I own several objects of clothing that are without pockets. My nightgown, for example. I know of some women that stick their cell phone in their bra but that brings back rather gruesome memories of when I worked as a teller at a bank. I had “regulars” who would waddle up to the window, reach down into their sweaty cleavage, and hand me a wad of bills that were as limp as yesterday’s fish. And smelled worse. So, far be it from me to ever do that with my phone. I suppose I could simply hold it in my hand but somehow I can’t see myself as one of those women who walk around with a death grip on their phone as if it’s the winning Powerball ticket. I’m just klutzy enough that I like to keep my hands available for those times I trip over the bath mat.

Do Not Disturb

The real problem with the cell phone-only lifestyle is being disturbed because people can literally reach you anywhere – shopping, at the movies, at the gynecologist’s office. Conversely, if someone calls me on my landline and I don’t answer they know I’m out doing something. They leave a message and I call them back AT MY CONVENIENCE. I can’t count the number of times I’ve received calls on my cell when I’m on the golf course, in meetings, and God forbid, the bathroom. My wish to not be disturbed is also the reason I charge my phone in the opposite side of the house from the bedroom. Once I go to bed, that’s it. Occasionally I hear my cell phone ring but I never get up to look at it. Experience has taught me that certain members of my family are prone to drunk dialing. Oh sure, they apologize the next day and blame it on butt dialing but I’m not buying it. When’s the last time someone butt dialed you from a landline phone?

Are You Still There?

I admit to occasional use of my cell phone in the car. I have a Bluetooth connection so I’m hands-free and I do find it convenient to return a call or make a quick call if I don’t have time to do it before I leave the house. But most of the time I save my calls for home because frankly, even after all these years, cell phone reception is horrible. There’s still that awkward pause where you have to ensure that the person you’re speaking with is done or you cut them off, and vice versa. But worst of all is a cell phone conversation when BOTH parties are using Bluetooth in the car. The clarity of the call is about what I had as a kid with a tin can and piece of string. Mostly it’s garbled, cuts out, and is distracting. Sometimes the reception at home isn’t any better. Like many people, some parts of our house get better reception than others and in our rental house last month there were whole rooms where there was no service at all.

So for me, I’m sticking with my landline. Perhaps I will become one of those gray-haired old ladies that gets invited to speak at the local library about life in the olden days when phones were actually attached to walls.

Posted in opinion • travel

Lake Arrowhead or Big Bear Lake?

July 25, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:7 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

The Arrowhead Queen

There are two major mountain lakes in southern California, Lake Arrowhead and Big Bear Lake, they are both in the San Bernardino National Forest about 25 miles apart. They’ve been sibling rivals since 1922, when a dam was built to form Lake Arrowhead. They are both man-made lakes, with the dam that formed Big Bear Lake constructed back in 1884.

Having grown up around Lake Tahoe, I have a deep appreciation for scenic mountain lakes, so have visited both of these local resorts on numerous occasions, Arrowhead more than Big Bear, primarily because it’s a little closer and esthetically more appealing to me. In fact I had not been to Big Bear in several years, until a few weeks ago, when I visited my daughter, Dana’s mother-in-law’s place to check out the ‘new’ Big Bear. I say ‘new’ because over the last several years, Big Bear has made a concerted effort to up-grade its redheaded stepchild image, with considerable success I might add.

The Village at Big Bear Lake in Winter

As I explored Big Bear, I imagined a discussion between these two alpine lakes going something like this . . .

Lake Arrowhead (LA): “It’s nice to see that you’re finally cleaning up your act.”

Big Bear (BB): “Yeah, well let’s see what you look like when you get to be 132 years old!”

LA: “Why do they even call you Big Bear anyway, there are no big bears around?”

BB: “There used to be lots of Grizzlies here until man hunted them into extinction; and by the way, they used to call you ‘Little Bear Lake’”

LA: “But I still have 14 miles of beautiful shoreline.”

BB: “I have 22, which is why you were called Little Bear!”

LA: “You used to have 22 not-as-beautiful-shoreline-as-mine, but it’s shrunk considerably with the drought.”

BB: “Same shoreline, just much more beach now for a population of just over 5,000 to enjoy.”

LA: “That’s nothing; I have a population of over 12,000.”

BB: “So you’re saying that it’s more crowded there than it is here?”

Celebrity homes on Lake Arrowhead

LA: “If crowded means we’ve had more star’s homes here like Tom Selleck, Shirley Temple Black, Priscilla Presley, Brian Wilson, Patrick Swayze and Michael Jackson, then yes, I guess we’re more crowded.”

BB: “Yeah, well we have the homes of Britney Spears, Mike Judge, who did the voices for Beavis and Butthead, Michael Richards, Krammer on Seinfeld, the metal band, Korn, and Richard Karn, who was the sidekick to Tim Allen in Home Improvement.

LA: “See, you have to explain who your ‘stars’ are; Michael Jackson needs no explanation.”

BB: “Michael Jackson needs a lot of explanation, but that’s besides the point. So let’s stay in the show business genre, what movies have been shot there?”

LA: “The Courtship of Miles Standish, The American President and Space Jam to name a few.”

“Frankly Scarlet . . .

BB: “Yeah, a few that are not very well known. Here’s some of mine you might remember: Heidi, Shane, Old Yeller and you may recall this one, Gone With the Wind. Case closed, let’s move on the skiing.”

LA: “We have great water skiing.”

BB: “You are a ‘private‘ lake and many activities are restricted to residents only. I have two marinas where the public can rent pontoon boats, go fishing, rent fishing equipment, take wakeboard or waterski rides, rent kayaks and canoes and ride a pirate ship.”

LA: “Well, the public can take a ride on my Arrowhead Queen and see all the spectacular celebrity homes around the lake.”

BB: “So what happens in the winter? How’s snow skiing at your elevation of 5,174?”

LA: “Well, we have Snow Valley fairly close by”

BB: “But it’s actually closer to me and I’m at 6,750 feet elevation; we also have Bear Mountain and Snow Summit at 8,200 feet elevation; so we are clearly the winter destination. Let’s move on, how’s your summer hiking trails?”

LA: “They’re awesome; I have Goat Trail, Little Bear Creek, Heaps Peak, Crab Creek, Little Green Valley and many more.”

View of Big Bear Lake from Pacific Crest Trail

BB: “Not bad I guess, but I have Heart Rock, Vivian Creek, Castle Rock, Deep Creek Hot Springs, Big Falls, Cougar Crest and, oh yeah the famous Pacific Crest Trail, which goes from Mexico to Canada, runs right by me.”

LA: “Fine! Let’s talk about golf; do you have anything to compare to Arrowhead Golf and Country Club?”

BB: “No, not really, I’ll leave the country club set to you. I’ll admit you’re prettier than I am, but your ‘Village’ is looking fairly tired and my ‘Village’ is buzzing with new shops, restaurants and bars; summer or winter this is the place to be.”

LA: “But you said I’m still prettier right?”

Okay kids, enough! The fact is that neither one is a Lake Tahoe, but for my money, if you’re an adventurer, Big Bear Lake is probably your best destination in the summer and for sure in the winter, but if you just want to get to the mountains to enjoy some clean air and the scenery of a beautiful mountain lake, rent a home on Lake Arrowhead or stay lake-side at the luxurious Lake Arrowhead Resort & Spa and take a cruise on the Arrowhead Queen.

Posted in opinion

1968 REDUX?

July 18, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:12 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

The ’68 Convention

I had a hard time getting to sleep the night of the Dallas police shootings I kept thinking about 1968, and how the events of that seminal year affected our society for years to come. The next morning I heard several news commentators make the same comparison until someone (I forget who – I can remember 1968 but not last week) reminded us how bad 1968 really was. It was a year that began to show the fissures in our society and a seismic shift in our values. The Vietnam war was raging – both Mai Lai and the Tet Offensive occurred that year and we lost more men (16,592) in 1968 than any other year of the war. Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, we saw the demise of Lyndon Johnson and the rise of Richard Nixon, the Zodiac killer terrorized the San Francisco area, North Korea captured the submarine Pueblo and kept the 99 member crew hostage for eleven months. Finally, violent riots broke out at the Democratic convention in Chicago. It was a really bad year.

The Graduate

As easy as it is to think about 1968 in rather dark tones, that year was also jam-packed with social, economic and entertainment “firsts”. We here at From A Bird’s Eye View, in an effort to bring you some lighter memories of that year, bring you the following highlights:

The Beatles started Apple records and released their White Album, containing the song Hey Jude.
The Boing 747 made its maiden flight and Intel was founded.
Dr. Christian Barnard performed the first heart transplant.
The first ATM went into a bank in Pennsylvania and 911 became the nation-wide emergency number.
The Graduate was the #1 movie, forever inspiring runaway brides.
TV programs ran the gamut from Peyton Place to Flipper, but perhaps the most influential new TV show that year was Laugh-In.
The average new car sold for $2822 and you could fill the tank for 34 cents a gallon.
The median price of a home was $14,950, which sounds great by today’s standards but then the average annual salary was only $7,850.
The Jets/Raiders game was interrupted by a showing of Heidi, cutting off the last minute of play where the Raiders scored twice to win the game.

563 heart-stopping calories

Perhaps this should be on the “bad” list, but 1968 saw the invention of the Big Mac.
60 Minutes debuted on CBS and is still going strong.
Finally, on Christmas Eve 1968, Apollo 8 became the first manned spaceship to orbit the moon. As one politician noted when the astronauts safely returned to Earth, “You have saved 1968.”

I write this just as the political conventions are about to take place so I don’t know what will happen – hopefully just peaceful protesting. It’s hard not to be apprehensive; to hope that we don’t see rioting and injury. I will endeavor to remember that 1968 had problems, but it also had breakthroughs. After all, it was in 1968 that Paul Lynde entertained us on Hollywood Squares. Who knows, perhaps in 50 years we’ll look back at 2016 and despite the problems, we’ll remember the nuttiness of Pokemon Go.

Posted in Family

A Birthday Tribute to Our Brother, the ‘Other’ Jack Sparrow

July 11, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:29 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

Jack, blowing out not quite 75 candles

A party was held in our home last week to celebrate the 75^th birthday of our brother, Jack Sparrow. He is not only my brother, but my best friend and has been since right after he broke my arm. I was 12, he was 14 and like most brothers we’d have an occasional difference of opinion; fights never lasted too long as he was much bigger and stronger than me, but I was of the opinion that it ‘wasn’t the size of the dog in the fight, it was the size of the fight in the dog’. Yeah, well that philosophy didn’t work out so well on this occasion when I thought I was going to land a big ‘haymaker’ right on his chin, when he put up his arm and blocked it. My forearm hurt for several days after and when I finally went to the doctor and had it x-rayed, my arm was found to be broken. That was our last fight.

6’4″ center at Novato High School

Later that same year, he entered high school and was a three-sport letterman for the next four years. Not just a letterman, he was good . . . real good. I idolized him, he was the best athlete I had ever seen and the great thing about it was he didn’t treat me like a ‘bothersome little brother’, he always had time to work with me to teach me to throw a baseball and football and shoot a basketball.

In his senior year he was 6’4” and 180 pounds – great size in 1959. Aside from getting good grades and being student body president, he stood out in every sport he played. In basketball, at the center position, his turnaround jump shot from 15’ and in was an automatic. He was the top scorer and rebounder on the team and amongst the leaders in both categories in the league; he was a unanimous All-League selection. He received scholarship offers to play basketball at a number of West Coast schools.

He was the ace pitcher on the baseball team and an All-League selection, who lead his team to a league championship in his senior year. He had a great fastball and a wicked curve; he threw several one and two-hit ball games and was being talked to by major league scouts to continue his career in baseball.

College of Pacific quarterback

But his love was football. At quarterback he had a rifle arm, could run extremely well and was a great on-the-field leader of the team. In his four years of high school football, he lost only 4 games. Back in 1959 there was a North-South Shrine game, where top high school seniors from Northern California played against the top seniors from Southern California in the Los Angeles Coliseum in the summer following their senior year. Jack was selected to play in that game along with two other quarterbacks from the North, Daryle Lamonica, who was headed to Notre Dame and ultimately a great career with the Oakland Raiders, and Bill Munson, who was headed to Utah State and later drafted in the first round by the Rams and played 16 seasons in the NFL for various teams. Needless to say, it was a very tough competition for the starting quarterback spot. Guess who worked his ass off and was named the starting quarterback for the North? Yep, Capt. Jack; and they won the game!

I was a sophomore during Jack’s senior year and was in awe of the college football coaches and recruiters from all across the country who sat in our living room trying to convince Jack to go to their school. He ultimately chose College of Pacific in Stockton, the school his high school coach had attended and at the time, had a high-powered football program, headed by star running back Dick Bass, who went on to have an outstanding pro career with the Los Angeles Rams.

Off Shore Bar & Grill – Lake Tahoe

Tragically, Jack broke his neck playing in a game in his junior year in college, yet remarkably came back to play in his senior year. But the neck injury came back to haunt him after his senior year, when he took the physical at the San Francisco 49ers training camp and was told that the risk of re-injuring the neck was too great for him to pursue a career in football.

Jack went on to have an outstanding career in the restaurant management business, capped by owning his own restaurant, the Off Shore Bar & Grill, on the shores of north Lake Tahoe. After he and wife, Sharon, moved to Santa Maria, he was convinced by none other than Fess Parker himself, who became a good friend, to come to work at the Fess Parker Winery, where to this day he still enjoys working part-time in the tasting room.

Bob, Suzanne and Jack

Some 25-30 friends and family attended the party to help Jack celebrate his three-quarters of a century on the planet. He enjoyed some good wine and a few gag gifts, but most of all he enjoyed the friends and family who had gathered on this beautiful southern California evening to wish him well.

You readers know what a awesome sister I have; I just feel so fortunate to have such great siblings – hat’s off to Mom and Dad, who at least got 2 out of 3 right!

Posted in opinion

I COULDA BEEN A CONTENDER – OR NOT

July 4, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:14 Comments

By Suzanne Sparrow Watson

Every four years I have a Walter Mitty moment – I fantasize that I am an Olympic Games contender. This past week I’ve been watching all of the USA Olympic team trials and, as always, think that with a little more effort I could have made the team. This is totally delusional, of course. I did swim for my high school and AAU teams but I think I was more interested in how I looked in my Speedo than my split times. I also participated in gymnastics in school, but soon realized that my “thunder thighs” were not compatible with elegance, grace or balance. So I have the utmost admiration for those who are talented and dedicated enough to take their skills to the try-outs, putting it all on the line to make the American team. There are hundreds of competitors, but a few have stood out for me this week.

John Orozco – In 2012 it looked like the sky was the limit for this talented gymnast. He made the Olympic team and was heralded as a sure thing for a medal, an athlete with a fairytale story. Born to parents of little means, his mother drove him a hour each day from their home in Brooklyn to the gym in Chappequa. Early on they slept in their car when they traveled to competitions. A lot of hard work resulted in his Olympic dreams coming true. But those dreams turned into nightmares at the 2012 games. Uncharacteristially, he had two disastrous pommel horse routines and then fell on one of his vaults. He was routinely chided by the critics as a huge disappointment. But he kept plugging along. Then in 2015 he was hit with a double whammy – his beloved mother died suddenly and he tore his Achilles’ tendon. Everyone wrote him off for the 2016 team. But John believed in himself and wanted to honor all the sacrifices his mother made. During the trials last week he summoned the courage and fortitude to perform at the highest levels. He was not error-free, but was good enough for the selection committee to put him on the team. He cried throughout the induction ceremony and anyone who watched his interview and didn’t tear up is just not human. No matter the outcome in Rio, John Orozco is a winner in all the ways that are important.

Troy Dumais – Not everyone’s Olympic dreams come true. Troy Dumais has been a premier diver for the USA since 1996, participating in the past four Olympic Games. Think about that – he started his Olympic career when we could still leave our shoes on at the airport. He dubbed the trials this year as his “Dive for Five”. Unfortunately, at 36 years old, time had caught up with him and he was in fourth place going into the final round, well out of Olympic team contention. He has contributed so much to his sport that when he climbed the ladder to perform the final dive of his career, the audience gave him a standing ovation. They continued to clap and cheer, forcing Dumais to pause and take it all in. He broke down, then summoned the composure to execute his dive almost flawlessly. He said afterward that he knows it’s time to retire. He is now married with a family and said that it’s difficult to cobble together enough income to support them. And that’s the thing that is so admirable about most of these athletes – they do it for the love of the sport. For every Michael Phelps and Shawn Johnson who rake in the big endorsements, there are hundreds of Olympic-level contenders that have to scrape by just to make a living. I have untold admiration for their dedication and purity of purpose.

Kevin Cordes – I’m going to admit up front that I’m a bit biased when it comes to Kevin Cordes. I’m a friend of his grandmother and have been following his swimming career for almost ten years. He attended University of Arizona, where he was named the Pac 12 and NCAA swimmer of the year – twice – and in 2015 was named the Pac 12 Scholar-Athlete of the Year, completing his degree in Business with a 3.4 GPA. Today he is the American record-holder in the 100m breast stroke and if you Google his name you will see a very long list of his awards and medals, both national and international. But what makes Keven so admirable is his discipline and comportment. At the 2012 trials he came in third, just missing out on a spot on the Olympic team. But he took that disappointment and built on it. He has dedicated his life to being the best possible swimmer while remaining a good and humble person. Sadly, that can’t be said of all of the “glamour” athletes we see on TV. As testimony to Kevin’s reputation, last week when he won the 100m breast stroke event, finally becoming the Olympian he had dreamed about, an observer noted that during the medal ceremony all of the lane judges stood up and gave him an ovation – the first time that had happened. In Rio Kevin will be competing in both the 100 and 200m events as well as the relays. I know his family is extremely proud of him, not only for his achievements in the pool but also for his behavior outside of it. He is truly an All-American in every way.

I can’t wait for the Games to begin. I have reconciled that I will never make an Olympic team, unless eating and knitting become competitive events. Instead, I will root for John and Kevin and all the other Olympic athletes who are so hard-working, dedicated, honest and a tribute to our country. I’m proud that they will be representing the USA. I wonder if we can get one of them to run for President?

Posted in travel

The Coast of California

June 27, 2016By Sparrow/WatsonComments:6 Comments

by Bob Sparrow

Borrowing a format from friend, fellow adventurer and blogger, Jeff Kane . . .

The music: Coast of California, a haunting melody sung by the Kingston Trio

The wine: Big Easy, a Syrah blend from central coast’s Fess Parker Winery

I recently had the pleasure of experiencing 137 miles of the natural beauty of the California coastline. The occasion was a golf trip for a milestone birthday celebration for friend, Judy VanBoxmeer, put together by husband, John. It was an opportunity to make a drive I hadn’t made in over 35 years – up State Route 1.

State Route 1 is arguably the most scenic road in America. It has several aliases: Pacific Coast Highway or PCH to the locals, Cabrillo Highway as well as just Highway 1. It was built piecemeal in various stages, with the first section opening in the Big Sur region in the 1930s. It stretches as far north as the little town of Leggett, CA, in Mendocino County and in the south it terminates in Orange County, which I will probably do as well. Leggett is the home of some of the largest Redwood trees in the world, including the famous ‘Drive Through Tree’. But we weren’t going as far north as Leggett, we were headed to a place called Pebble Beach – perhaps you’ve heard of it.

Drive-Through-Tree

Hwy 1 and Hwy 101 join together just south of the college town of San Luis Obispo and then splits again just north of SLO with Hwy 101 staying inland and Hwy 1 heading for the coast where it meets up with the Pacific Ocean at Morro Bay. Over the next 94 miles to Big Sur, the road hugs the coastline in spectacular fashion, passing through the little towns of Harmony (pop. 18), Cambria, the midway point between Los Angeles and San Francisco; then, after you pass through San Simeon (pop. 462) you have to force yourself to turn away from the spectacular coastline and look high up on the mountains inland to see Hearst’s Castle – an adventure for another day.

Bixby Creek Bridge

From San Simeon to just below Big Sur, the road really traces the coastline closely. This drive is not for the timid or those prone to carsickness; it is a winding road with barely enough room for two cars to pass. During our trip the road was narrowed to just one lane three times, due to either the road having eroding below us or from rocks having slid from above. Thankfully there are numerous places to pull over and watch the sea lions sun bathing, the surf crashing against the cliffs or the sun sinking into the Pacific.

As we entered the Big Sur area, the road turned inland just a bit and we found ourselves deep in a forest surrounded by trees of every description, coast redwoods, bay laurel, white oak, fir, pine, as well as the endangered wild orchid. Although Big Sur is sparsely populated (about 1,000), its beauty and serenity attract a good number of musicians, writers and artists throughout the summer.

Moon over Pebble Beach

As we leave Big Sur and cross over the iconic Bixby Bridge, we have about another 15 beautiful miles before we are greeted by the quaint village of Carmel-by-the-Sea – southern gateway to the Monterey Peninsula.

As we sat down for dinner outside at ‘The Bench’ just off the 18^th green at Pebble Beach on a beautiful evening, I was reminded that we were only a few days away from the ‘longest day of the year’ as the last group of golfers were just teeing off on the 18^th hole at 8:55 p.m.

Our stay at the Inn at Spanish Bay started with a most beautiful day to play the Links at Spanish Bay, which is laid out along the coastline, and ended with the traditional kilted Scotsman coming over the dunes at day’s end playing his bagpipe. The following day we played Pebble Beach, fog was included at no extra cost, although it seemed like there were some extra costs in there somewhere! It was not as beautiful a day, but . . . hey, it was Pebble Beach! There is no real need to discuss my golf scores on these fabulous courses; the pleasure was in the beauty. The pleasure was in the beauty. The pleasure was in the beauty!

Great scenery, great friends and great expense made for a fabulous trip. I believe that every Californian MUST take the Hwy 1 drive at least once in their life.

Below is an aerial video from YouTube you might enjoy (Thank you son, Jeff for helping with the IT).

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