You Read it in the Post and the Daily News

Among the many things I don’t understand or appreciate about weddings are wedding announcements. What’s the point of an announcement? Everyone we’re close to already knows we’re gettin’ hitched (and if there was any confusion about it, we fired off a save-the-date this month).

The announcements in the Sunday New York Times often seem to be an opportunity to brag. There’s always a bride that graduated magna cum laude from Harvard/Yale or a groom whose ancestors came over on the Mayflower. Yawn. I delight in the more unusual announcements, the ones where the bride says something like, “Not to mention that being around puppets is very sexy”.

Given the odd police blotters I cull from my old hometown newspaper, it’s probably no surprise that their announcements are a little different from what you’ll find in the New York Times. The announcement may note, for example, that the bride “wore a handcrafted Celtic-style veil and an off-white, multi-layered Georgette dress that took on an ethereal ‘fairy in flight’ appearance as she rode guests up and down the hill on her brother’s quad runner.”

But if you don’t have a connection to puppets or to the Mayflower, or if you lack a quad runner, how do you make your wedding stand-out? Here are some ideas:

The first rule of announcements is to toot your own horn. But don’t limit yourself to the facts. Say whatever the hell you want. My very favorite in this category is the announcement of the very humble Tiffany and David that stated: “Tiffany is heaven sent, and David is a true blessing from God.”

Don’t we all want the chance to publish something about ourselves that may or may not be true? Think of all the things we could say! “Mr. WholeHog was raised by wolves and Ms. Piggy has smells like bacon.” Or, “Mr. WholeHog walks on water, and Ms. Piggy is a 6.7 on the richter scale.” The possibilities are endless.

You can also use your wedding announcement to confirm your wedding choices. Did people think you had too many bridesmaids and groomsmen? Take a hint from Laura and Bobby who pointed out in their announcement that “Each attendant was so special to the couple that they are very happy with their decision to have a large wedding party.”

Worried people aren’t sure you should be getting married? Zak and Gianna pointed out that they’d shared “a long and ‘amazing’ friendship”. (Putting amazing in quotes makes it much more believeable, don’t you think?)

Lastly, let your crazy flag fly. Let your whole town know that you are on a permanent acid trip or flirting with mental illness. It’s difficult to sum up all the alarming features of this couple’s wedding announcement, but in short:
(1) the couple had a “woodland creatures in outer space theme”,
(2) the bride was at one point “hatching out of a cosmic egg”, and
(3) the couple “donned a spider costume built for two.”
If possible, post some frightening pictures (don’t say I didn’t warn you!).

Rave: Indian Springs Calistoga

Napa Valley is a pretty common escape for us City-folk. It’s an easy enough day trip from SF, but if you’re drinking wine (and why wouldn’t you be?) and especially if you’re wine tasting in the fall, in November, say, when the grape leaves start turning their most vibrant colors — you’re going to want to stay overnight.

But where? Napa lodging tends to be expensive and most hotels require you to stay two (pricey) nights. I’m happy to pay more to stay somewhere special, but I can’t stand the faux French chateaus or faux Tuscan villas that are so prevalent in Napa. I don’t want a ceramic rooster in my room, nor do I want to sleep in antique four-poster bed with an f-ing teddy bear.

My tastes tend to be more modern and simple — ideally, with a bit of vintage-style — and that’s just what I found at Indian Springs in Calistoga, my new favorite place to stay in the Valley.

Just look at this sweet cottage:

Isn’t this the cutest?! This is the Colbert Cottage (cottage #3).

Inside, there was a bright red couch in the living room, a full kitchen (we’ll make better use of the kitchen next time), great linens (Frette, if you care about such things), and a sweet back deck where you can read the Chronicle, delivered each day to your doorstep.

We stayed one night in Cottage #3 and another night in Cottage #11.* Cottage #11 was smaller and lacked the back deck and the kitchen stove, but it had a cozier layout and more vintage charm, like the sweet jade green and burgundy tiled kitchen and bath.

As much as I loved our cottage(s), the real star of Indian Springs is the warm mineral pool:

The pool is open from 6am to midnight so we began most mornings with a dip and every night, we returned to swim in the steaming waters and look up at the stars. Dreamy, I tell you.

After floating one evening, Mr. WholeHog pronounced himself the most relaxed he’s ever been.

The one thing we didn’t do enough of this trip was simply lounge — a shame since Indian Springs has many, many places to veg. Cottage #3 had its sweet back deck and in the back yard, there was comfy hammock. In front of the Bath House, you could sit under big orange umbrellas. Or up at the pool, you could stretch out on chaise lounges in the sun or in the shade.

This particular option was calling me right about the time we were checking out and preparing to head back to the City:

Now Indian Springs might not be your thing. Maybe you like to stay in a flowery B&B. Maybe you can’t sleep without a teddy bear nearby. Maybe you had a bad run-in with a mullet in Calistoga a while back and now stick to the more upscale parts of the Valley. That’s fine and dandy.

Go get your free bottle of Beringer and that continental breakfast. I’ll be here, maybe on the back deck of the Colbert cottage, or floating in this gigantic bathtub pool, or taking a little nap on a chaise lounge in the weak winter sun.

*There’s no two-night minimum at Indian Springs, but we decided to stay another night and take advantage of their ‘winter’ special: stay a weekday night (we stayed Sunday night) and get free mud baths!

Where Is The Love?

I want to feel elated today because last night, we officially ended these last horrible eight years. Years when some of us were wrongly arrested, and others were spied on for no cause. Years that people were tortured in our name and wars were based — and lives lost — on sheer lies and political manipulation. These years have permanently shaped my political outlook in the way the ’60s, Vietnam and Nixon influenced my parents.

It’s a momentous and hopeful time.

And yet, how can I celebrate when Californians voted to put discrimination in the California constitution? The same voters who helped elect our first black president also voted to prevent same-sex couples from marrying. We took a step backwards in California, while the rest of the country moved forward.

But then an unnamed commenter (identified only as a newly married friend) on Daily Kos put it in perspective for me:

“This may be a setback, but really, it’s just a single slap. I do not intend to cringe and sulk in the corner. I do not intend, even for one tiny second, to let the forces of intolerance think they have won even a battle. They haven’t. They want to rest now. They want to think that this is it, that they can go back home and sleep because they’ve stopped something they hate and are afraid of. They haven’t. We’re not down. We’re not wounded. We’re not battered or bleeding. We’re in love.“

This was exactly what I needed — a reminder that this is about love, and love doesn’t end because of some state ballot measure or some hypocritical religious belief.

Because of love, consenting adults have committed their lives to each other, even though their government doesn’t recognize their union and even though their commitment doesn’t provide them the same rights as other loving, committed couples. And this love is what fuels all of us, gay or straight, who fight to end discrimination.

Animal Dreams

I read Barbara Kingsolver’s novel Animal Dreams years ago and it got under my skin. I’ve thought about and returned to the excerpt below many times and it feels especially apt tonight:

“The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for.  And the most you can do is live inside that hope.  Not admire it from a distance but live right under its roof. . . Right now I’m living in that hope, running down its hallway and touching the walls on both sides.  And I can’t tell you how good it feels.“

Falling Back

I used to dread this time of year, when we set the clocks back and allow the dark to set in early.

It was a time of year I associated with depression and sickness (this was long before I’d discovered the neti pot and before I even knew I had coastal allergies that generally kicked in around this time).

But this year, I welcomed the darkness. I looked forward to turning the clocks back. This year, I’m ready to turn in a little early and to spend a little more time at home.

My life has felt so busy lately. September and October bring SF’s best weather, so there tends to be more City events, like the always-amazing Hardly Strictly Bluegrass. There are a lot of Fall birthdays in my family, and since this year was my cousin’s 40th, my aunts, cousins and I all rented a house in Sonoma for a weekend. Mr. WholeHog and I found relatively cheap flights to Oregon — our first trip up to see our friends in their new home.

These were all good things, of course, but things that kept me out of the house, out of SF, and, perhaps most difficult for me, out of a record three (!), consecutive Saturday farmers markets. No Fatted Calf bacon. No Primavera breakfasts.

And then there was the election, yet another worthwhile time-suck. We volunteered on a few weekday nights, encouraging voters to vote No on Prop 8. It’s such an important issue, but it also meant arriving home at 10pm some nights, only to realize that we hadn’t had dinner yet.

This first November weekend was a much needed break. Saturday’s rain couldn’t keep me from the farmers market, although apparently it was too much for Primavera (damn you, Primavera!). But otherwise, I stayed close to home, reading back issues of the Sunday New York Times and SF’s crazy ballot measures. As we turned the clocks back Sunday morning, I found my way back to the kitchen.

I’m sure there will be times in these next few months when the dark evenings will get me down, but my hope is to have more nights like this one, where I sit on the kitchen floor writing while a gingerbread cake bakes in the oven.

Police Blotter – October 2008

One of the most common items in the blotter this month was the stealing of political signs. Unlike SF, the community has people with very strong and very different political views.

• 5:35 p.m. – A man reported someone was defecating in his driveway.
• 5:05 p.m. – A woman reported that a 55-year-old man came to her house and asked for money. When she refused he said he’d be back to burn her house down.
• 12:13 p.m. – A caller requested extra patrols after a subject “moved in without permission and stated he is the caregiver.”
• 5:32 p.m. – A caller reported a man walking around inside a store with a machete. Upon contact, it was determined the man was a gardener from a nearby mobile home park.
• 10:13 a.m. – A caller reported a subject peering into his daughter’s window the night before. A countywide “be on the lookout” was issued for an unshaven man aged 25 to 30 with a dirty blonde mullet driving a dirty red Nissan Pathfinder with an exhaust leak.
• 12:54 a.m. – A caller from a business reported a tall, thin man in his 30s harassing customers, stating he is a skinhead and member of White Pride.
• 6:30 p.m. – A woman reported her husband was being mean to her that day, and asked that a deputy speak with the man.
• 11:52 a.m. – A caller reported a woman driving a Dodge Durango driving up and down the street for 30 minutes, screaming obscenities out the window while children were heard crying in the back seat. {Ah motherhood just brings out the best in some people!}
• 12:53 a.m. – A caller said that someone attacked him while he was asleep and that the individual had bitten his finger.
• 10:29 p.m. – A woman could not explain why she thinks a car intentionally hit her mailbox.
• 12:15 p.m. – A woman in the lobby of the Sheriff’s Office said she needed help apprehending and sending her friend to Hawaii.
• 10:27 p.m. – An intoxicated mam reported a “criminal” had just entered his home. The “criminal” got on the phone and said the caller was too drunk to remember him as a friend.
• 6:43 p.m. — A woman reported her downstairs neighbor was smoking drugs.
• 3:14 a.m. — A man reported his upstairs neighbor sounded as if she was moving furniture around.
• 2:40 p.m. — A man reported a metal cross had been cemented into the ground on his property. The man was advised he could remove the cross.
• 12:44 a.m. — A woman reported seeing a prowler outside her home. The woman was now in her bedroom lying on the floor and could not hear anything outside.
• 2:59 p.m. – A caller reported three packages of chicken, frozen peas and other miscellaneous food items were found missing from her residence.

Halloween Police Blotters

• 7:28 p.m. – A caller reported a residence was open and items were strewn all over the inside. The reporter was standing by in a white shirt and fake blood.
• 9:31 p.m. – A caller advised of a severed goat head on the doorstep.
• 10:07 p.m. – A caller reported a bald man wearing a dress was seen running toward North Church Street, yelling for his purse back.
• 11:36 p.m. – A caller reported a drunk man wearing a gray jump suit who came to the caller’s door and stated he was pushed out of a vehicle and subjects were “packing heat.”