AROUND THIS TOWNE — 27 OCTOBER 2009
RETURNING FROM CALIFORNIA a few weeks ago, I’ve been remiss in failing to get back on line with the usual views and shrews. Much to relate about the Golden State, most of it baleful reflections on huge failures in state politics and economics, and the political system itself in a shambles. It will take a moderate-sized miracle to pull out of this one before 2020, and even Terminator (Arnie) Schwarzenegger seems not up to the job. A surfeit of democracy, selfish claims to individual liberty and a dearth of good will and civility in Sacramento seem to have sealed the devilish deal. Perhaps Californians deserve it, so long have they nurtured a collective self-image of superiority over the rest of the Republic (let alone this benighted socialist nation–that, according to one of my right-wing relatives…..But on the other side, those of you who visit California recognize well the glorious natural beauty of the place, ranging from seashore to Sierra mountain-top. And yes, your scribe enjoyed himself immensely, staying away from most watering holes and fleshpots, focusing on the aforementioned Sierra Nevada, near Pinecrest, up to Sonora Pass, and environs. Try it one day. At night, if you can stomach the road over the Pass, you can get out of your car and (literally) take your choice of the (at least) thousand stars in the sky….On the road to Dodge Ridge, off Highway 108, there is also one of the great views anywhere in creation. Walk west about forty yards, look over the cliff, and you are at “Therapy”. The name is apt, as the sun dips in the (much farther) west, creating an exceptional kaleidoscope of colour. When the sun is about gone–and on a clear dusk you can see all the way to Mt. Diablo, on the Bay, a good 150 miles across about five ridges and the valley, someone shouts, “QUIET!” No noise, please, as the pantheist, deist, taoist impulses in us take over and we look at, well, something beyond description. Yellow, purple, green, pink, ochre, go for it…….And then it is darker, and the wine and beer come out again, and the party resumes……
IF THERAPY stands as one highlight of the trip, a jaunt with an old friend down the coast on Highway 1 also allows for superlatives. On a beautiful Saturday Jill and I drove from her home in Redwood City, up to La Honda (site of much of Ken Kesey’s counterculture excitement during the 1960s) and thence down snaky roads to Big Basin and lunch in Boulder Creek. That’s walking back fifty years (yes, Johnny’s Supermarket still there), and driving through roads made tunnels by huge redwoods, pines, and oh, the wonderful smell of the mountains. From thence through Santa Cruz and down to Point Lobos Reserve. Point Lobos is unparalleled as a hiking site, with three good trails that will keep you busy all day, and draw you back (like Therapy) again and again. The ocean breeze, the trees, cliffs, beach, animals — deer, dolphins, sea otters viewed this fine afternoon — make it clear that religion that claims to mouth truth from within any man-made edifice connected with religion cannot compare with nature…..thence after, as the sun set on the Pacific, dinner at the Nepenthe Restaurant overlooking Big Sur–you cannot do better than this for ambience, which makes the mundane menu more than palatable. A good California wine makes it even better.
SO there are two highlights in a fabulous trip, which also included a visit with my high school basketball coach, whom I had not seen for fifty years, a surreal moment where the first thing we both did was to laugh. Back in the days, ‘57-’59 I had trouble gaining weight. Was a 6-3, 140 lb varsity forward in grade 11, so when the old coach saw me now, he admitted that it was hard to remember the days when I could turn sideways and disappear. He and his wife BettyRae live in Stockton, in a very fine retirement village, and follow their eldest son Pat’s golf career, as he is one of the top two or three amateurs
in the state….Overall, the visit left me with a feeling of closure of one page, kind of a Tuesdays with Morrie kind of thing.
CALIFORNIA IS A WONDERFUL PLACE TO VISIT, but I wouldn’t want to live there…Too much populations density in the urban sprawls, too many cars, too much inequality, and a whole host of other problems……so wonderful to get back to Kingston and painting, gardening, and rudimentary knitting (yes), along with a few other pursuits that shall not be mentioned here….Queen’s University is struggling mightily to turn around some red ink and bad karma, what with the installation last night of Daniel Woolf as its latest Principal and Vice Chancellor. He gave a thoughtfull and — yes — hopeful speech during the ceremony, even underlining the importance of “imagination” in the context of developing Queen’s mission over the next quarter century. Together with “knowledge” and “wisdom,’ the idea of imagination needs hearing. Especially in first year courses. Here is a challenge to the new Principal and the new vice principals to do something radical in reorganizing the way knowledge is imparted, to introduce something different and more exciting and engaging than the large lecture hall, and as Woolf noted, the ability to take teaching as seriously as we do research. We’ve paid lip service to that idea for a number of years….but……only lip service.
The ceremony involved three honorary degrees, greetings from most other Cdn universities and several colleges, and the appearance of the Queen’s bands, cheerleaders, and BooHoo the bear, who tammed the new principal at the end of the ceremony. Most interesting from this scribe’s viewpoint was the juxtaposition of the singing of “God Save the Queen” at the outset with the moving aboriginal chant that immediately followed as the invocation. God knows how much we have taken from the aboriginal nations, without much in return.
And, of course, with the cheerleaders there were gymnastics, with the men throwing around the women, making me wonder why we can’t have women throwing around men. Not kidding on this one people, the time is coming…..
AND THE BANQUET, with signs of hope and good will and optimism, Queen’s people gathering at Ban Righ to sup and toast and toast and toast. Woolf is smart, well-read, cares about teaching, and insightful. Will he be tough enough to do the things he has to do? Will he choose good people to gather round him for the transition period while search committees seek to name everything from the VP Academic to dog catcher…..
VERY LITTLE of the Queen’s story made the local paper, which featured a fine shot of the principal and chancellor David Dodge doing the Oil Thigh; it’s too bad we don’t have someone writing education at the Whig. But, sadly, like an Agatha Christie novel, fewer and fewer live writers remain active at what was once — not too long ago — the Whig Building. And the material the paper prints? Increasingly tabloid junk, stale crime news, names of transgressors. Guess that one reads the paper these days only for the obits…said that before, can say it again.
More to come on Kingston and Queen’s in the near future….
Here’s Sonora Pass!
Here’s Therapy Just After Sunset!
enjoy…..