Allyson Johnson

Pieces of my Mind

Archive for the category “California”

16 Apr 2024

Freeway Free: a Tale of Four Airports

I spent quite a number of hours in four different airports last week.

San Francisco International (SFO) was my first and final. I have made many trips through this airport, but each one reveals a new aspect, as the airport is constantly re-inventing itself with new construction, new retail outlets and restaurants, and new airlines coming and old ones disappearing. I used to fly TWA and PanAm; now my flights are more likely to be United and Southwest. On departure day I am flying Southwest, and my departure is from one of the gates in one of the newer sections of Terminal One. SFO does its best to invoke the quirky sophistication of its namesake city, even though it is actually located thirty miles south of San Francisco, in San Mateo County. The shops offer authentic sourdough bread, See’s candy, and little packets of goodies wrapped in cable-car-shaped boxes, as well as t-shirts adorned with representation of the Golden Gate Bridge and Coit Tower. Restaurants invoke the Asian/European diversity of the City, with Vietnamese, Mexican, Filipino, Japanese, Vegan and Italian supplementing the standard Starbuck’s.

You can also pick up the usual sports-themed offerings from the Golden State Warriors and the 49ers (who actually play home games fifty miles south in Santa Clara, but hey, who’s picky!) Unfortunately, the airport has none of the Victorian charm of historic San Francisco, but I guess a Victorian airport would be oxymoronic.

Dallas-Love Field (DAL) was my next stop. I had expected to be picked up right away, and had my carryon with me, but my friend was unexpectedly two hours delayed, so I had plenty of time to explore DAL.

Love Field is the former major airport into Dallas, but has been supplanted by the much larger Dallas/Fort Worth Intenational positioned exactly on the county line between the two rival cities. Dallas, I am afraid, lacks a civic personality, and this shows in its secondary airport. The shops offer vanilla t-shirts that say, basically, “I was in Dallas and I bought this t-shirt.” The restaurants include Dunkin Donuts, Maggiano’s, Baskin-Robbins, Chick-fil-A, and Chili’s. One Texas staple, Whataburger, is also available, and there is a Dallas Cowboys store, but in general one could as well be in St. Louis. I hunted in vain throughout the terminal for either a Dallas post card or a local newspaper.

I was aiming next to fly out of Austin-Bergstrom International on an American flight to DFW. The flight I had intended to exit on was cancelled, so I had plenty of time to check AUS out while waiting around on standby and then for an airport pickup from a friend.

Sophistication is not a word one associates with Austin, but quirkiness certainly is. Somehow I always seem to arrive or leave Austin around the time of Willie Nelson’ s birthday – or maybe they just celebrate this prominent citizen year round. Plenty of post cards here, celebrating the SWSX music festival, the Congress street bats, the mud-colored State Capitol, and the scenic downtown poised along the Colorado River. There are at least eight venues and stages where live music is presented during the week.

And plenty of local businesses are represented, including Book People (“the largest independently owned book store in Texas” now that Archer City’s Booked Up went belly-up), Earl Campbell’s Taco Truck (intact), East Side Pies, Haymaker and others. Not a sign of a chain restaurant anywhere. Nor any sports-related gear – Austin is blessedly free of major leaguery.

I never made it to DFW but was rescheduled on a flight to the Phoenix Sky Harbor International (PHX), with a two-hour layover. So, I went from the Barbara Jordan terminal, named for a firebrand Democratic governor in a state since turned GOP, to the Barry Goldwater terminal, named for a firebrand Republican governor in a state edging toward Democratic. Such is history.

A strange feeling of deja vu in the Phoenix Airport – it was just like the Dallas airport, only with mountains around. I’d swear the T-shirts were identical, except for the city name – same diamond-shape logo behind the name, same dusky blues, pinks, and lavenders. Phoenix, of course, is even shorter on history than Dallas. Flying out, the inhabited city looks like something blue (swimming pools) and green (golf courses) that spilled accidentally on the sere gray desert.

And finally back to SFO and the Harvey Milk terminal. American flights come into much less convenient gates than Southwest flights, and there is a lamentable lack of moving sidewalks for the weary returning traveler. The route to baggage claim is also poorly signed – a gentleman stationed at the end of the seeming blank corridor directed me around a kink in the hallway to the escalator down. But I was home.

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20 Feb 2024
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Graffitti – Gritty, Ubiquitous, Affirming

The railroad tracks from the Coliseum to Jack London Square – everywhere the trash and debris of homelessness… rusted out cars, plywood shanties, abandoned chairs, strollers, buckets, tires, tarps…. But everywhere also the triumphant gaiety of graffiti – a rainbow of indecipherable words adorning every available concrete surface – amazingly no pornographic or obscene drawings or postings, only an occasional sad face, Raiders logo, anime girl in a sarong, a smiling blue tiger.   Some of the artists have mastered techniques that I have failed to grasp in art classes – shading, three-D effects. Odd that these artists don’t express more anger and frustration.  Every tag, every angular or curvilinear phrase (some out in the water on pipes, some twenty feet high) expressing “I am here!”

Some businesses have given in to the graffiti and put up their own murals using the curvilinear or anime style – these seem to be respected.  It is very bad form to paint over another artist’s work. And now at Jack London Suare the graffiti disappears amid the apartments and banners and “public artwork” of the respectable and established world.

Per Wikipedia,Graffiti (plural; singular graffiti or graffito, the latter rarely used except in archeology) is art that is written, painted or drawn on a wall or other surface, usually without permission and within public view.  Graffiti ranges from simple written words to elaborate wall paintings, and has existed since ancient times, with examples dating back to ancient Egypt, ancient Greece, and the Roman Empire.. Modern graffiti, focused on tagging, probably began on New York City subway cars and spread like a living cloak flung across railway cars, freeway overpasses, and abandoned buildings. When I first visited Japan in 1997 I remember my colleague remarking on the lack of graffiti . When I last visited in 2011 graffiti was everywhere. In some eyes, graffiti are acts of vandalism. In others, they are works of art.

We leave the Square, with its up-market businesses including a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, a BevMo, a Cost Plus World Market… and then abruptly we are into the Port area and the graffiti erupts again. Dingier here, as though the artists lacked the energy to walk this far from warmth and people.  A huge recycling center.  Stacks of shipping containers, A row of black oil tankers, oddly un-graffitied, unlike the box cars and flat cars on the next track over. Is it hard to make the paint stick on the curved surfaces? The cattle cars and box cars are painted as high as a man can reach. Of course – why paint a lowly concrete barrier when one can send one’s aspirations across the country?

Posted in California, Freeway Free, hidden treasures, Train travel and tagged , ,
12 Sep 2023

Freeway Free in California – Hidden Gem – Triton Musuem in Santa Clara

The Triton Museum of Art, tucked away in a quiet corner near the City Hall, is one of the many small museums dotting the Bay Area, and one of the pleasantest. It specializes in contemporary and historical works with an emphasis on artists of the Greater Bay Area. The permanent collection includes 19th and 20th century American art of the Pacific Rim, Europe and beyond plus an extensive collection of American Indian art and artifacts. The museum was founded in 1965 in San Jose, California, by rancher, lawyer and art patron W. Robert Morgan and his wife June.[3][4] It is the oldest non-university museum in Santa Clara County. 

On a recent visit, there were four major exhibits being celebrated. The first featured abstract sculptures by Jeff Owen, placed around the lobby in accessible spots. I saw one man taking a picture of his wife peeking through the circle of a sculpture, like one of those carnival sets where you are invited to put your face on a blowup of Marilyn Monroe.

Perhaps she was inspired by the second exhibit, a collection of larger-than-life bill-board-like figures conceived by John Cerney and inviting viewers to make themselves part of the scene.

The third exhibit was a series of larger-than-life charcoal drawings, most of them self portraits of the artist Julie Grantz, and embodying a series of feminist themes.

The last and largest exhibit was a roomful of paintings by May Shei, inspired by Chinese tradition. They included calligraphy scrolls, delicate nature vignettes, vibrantly colored still lifes, and monumental landscapes in the style of Zhang Da Qian.

The Triton is perfectly sized to allow appreciation of the diversity of its offerings without wearing the viewer out with an over-supply of stimulation. Admission is free, as is the plentiful parking, though of course donations are encouraged.

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29 Aug 2023

Freeway Free in California: Along the River in SLO

 This morning we went to downtown San Luis Obispo, magically stripped of its food stalls, produce, and acrobats from last night’s farmer’s market, and checked out the mission – lovely, quiet, full of apologetic acknowledgement of the mistreatment of Indigenous People’s.  We left W, who had seen plenty of missions, outside on a bench by the creek, and returned to find her having befriended Adrian, a very well-spoken and tidy vagrant who welcomed us all to SLO. 

We wandered along thecreek to the SLO Art museum, a very small but attractive venue with three local artists exhibiting (loved Anila Agha’s India-inspired lanterns), plus a colorful abstract mural which wrapped completely around the outside of the museum.

On our way back to the car we couldn’t pass up the old Carnegie Library, now the home of the SLO History Museum.  The exhibits and the docent who talked about them were unexpectedly fascinating – I had to go out for extra time on our (very expensive) parking meter. The docent was a Viet Nam vet who knew a lot about the Dust Bowl and the Japanese internment, and is doing research on WR Hearst.  He explained and enhanced a lot about the old photos which were displayed, and recommended The Habit for a light hamburger lunch just a block away.

The Habit is a fast food place a cut or several above McDonalds – I had a fancy burger with mushrooms and garlic aioli and tempura string beans instead of fries for about $12 including tax.  The most unusual aspect is the ordering, all done at touch-screen kiosks at the front of the store, with a buzz to your cell phone when your order is ready.

When we left the mission in the morning, we had seen people setting up already for the free Friday concert in the Plaza in the evening. (People were already reserving their spaces at 11AM). We thought about attending, but decided instead to reserve a riverside table at Novo just down San Luis Obispo Creek from the mission and the Plaza.

 Our dinner at Novo was a triumph – all participants raised a toast to D for having suggested and reserved the place.  We were outside next to the creek, but far enough down the creek and across so that the noise of “The Molly Ringwald Experience” rock band going in in the Plaza was just incidental background noise.  

We feasted on four appetizer plates:  calamari with 2 kinds of sauce, roasted Brussels sprouts, warm Chèvre (goat cheese) with olives and sourdough toast, and minced chicken in lettuce cups.  We finished off with a shared chocolate decadence fudge thing, all deliciously accompanied by a generous pour of the house Merlot. 

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15 Aug 2023

Freeway Free in California: Cool Stays in SLO

If my posts have you thinking about a stop in San Luis Obispo, you’ll want a place to stay. Here are three very different choices:

For families: Quality Inn Suites  (qualitysuitesslo.com) – Located well off the freeway and only a few blocks from downtown. This is a great value. TQuality Suites in SLO is a beautifully laid out establishment with lots of outdoor shady sitting spots for contemplation.  One courtyard adjoins the breakfast cafe and the Lobby and contains the spacious swimming pool as well as plenty of outdoor seating for patrons of the Cafe or the evening Manager’s Reception (one generous pour of wine or one beer.) The second, quieter courtyard hat has a gazebo, a fountain, and several tiled tables with benches for sitting as well as a gazebo and a fountain.). Behind the hotel is the river with several nicely situated benches for even quieter contemplation and perfect fend shut.

The complimentary hot breakfast offers a variety of egg dishes, pastries, bagels, cereals, and the usual trimmings.   In the evening along with the complimentary wind and beer, an evening barbecue grill on the swim deck offers hamburgers, hot dogs, cheese steak sandwiches, and grilled chicken sandwiches along with help-yourself salad fixings and cole slaw. If you want something fishy, I can recommend the Splash Cafe for takeout fish tacos and wraps just down Monterey Avenue.

The rooms are large and well equipped. W, C and I rented a Suite, which has two double beds plus a comfortable sofa bed. If you are traveling with children, the pool and the barbecue are easy entertainment and eating options if you have had a long traveling day or a strenuous time getting a student settled at Cal Poly.

For couples or BFFs on a girls’ weekend who are into kitsch – The Apple Farm Inn is up the street from the Quality Inn, a little further from downtown, and offers floral decor and chintz galore, with poster beds, ruffled pillows, overstuffed chairs, and a gift shop full of china in traditional patterns and knickknacks. It’s a new establishment that is trying to be quaint, but with modern gas fireplaces in the rooms. D and I stayed here years back and remember that the breakfast, though not complimentary, was to die for (or die after from surfeit). Current pix look less ruffly and chintzy than I remember.

For couples who want genuine vintage without the kitsch and don’t mind stairs, the Garden Street Inn is a quaint and charming B&B located in a historic Victorian within easy walking distance of downtown. It has stained glass windows, a library with a ladder to help you to the top shelves, clawfoot tubs in the bathrooms, and a sunny breakfast area for enjoying a different creative breakfast every morning.

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08 Aug 2023

Freeway Free in California – SLO Farmers Festival

The San Luis Obispo “Farmers market” is justly famous, but not for farming.   I put the quotes because the actual produce-vending section occupies maybe two blocks, while the food stalls, real estate booths, craft booths, and beer dispensers made up at least five.  You might also see a balloon guy with balloons that light up in rainbow colors, an acrobat who climbs a pole held steady by four volunteers and does gymnastics thirty feet up in the air, a group of rock performers who alternate on instrument playing and K-pop style dancing, or a dancing dread-locked saxaphonist. 

The market is held every Thursday evening beginning at 6PM on SLO’s main street, Higueroa Street, which is decked in lights and lanterns and shut down to all but foot traffic. In summer, long-lasting daylight allows you to appreciate the beauty of the produce and see the performers more clearly, but there is something magical about lantern-light and sparkly garlands which will lure you to spend more time after dark.

The food-stall section offers a huge variety of walk-away food, as many of the local restaurants set up food stands and offer sample platters of their standard menu items. W and I shared a couple of platters of Indian food from the Shalimar restaurant, with mango lassi as drink/dessert, while C wolfed her way through a plate of large juicy beef BBQ ribs. Roasted corn on the cob, churros, tacos, gyros, hummus. BBQ chicken, varieties of satay,, ramen, and chowmein, ice cream, crepes, and many other exotic, vegan, and other choices were available.

W sat and people-watched (lots of summery swirly dresses, bare midriffs, ripped jeans… SLO is a college town, after all) while Cindy and I explored up and down the blocks. Market closed down at 9 and so did we, making it back to our hotel by 9:30 and everyone well-fed and snug in bed by 10. 

One word of warning: Parking in downtown SLO is expensive ($4/hour) and hard to come by on Market Night. I let W and C off a block from Higueroa and drove five blocks in the other direction before I found a parking place (at least it was beyond the range of the parking meters). Make sure to take note of where you park, and have a phone with a flashlight for your return, as the street lights of SLO are also few and far between once you are off the main drag.

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01 Aug 2023

Freeway-Free in California – Salinas is Steinbeck Country

It would be easy to breeze past Salinas on your way to the Monterey Peninsula, San Francisco, or San Jose, but that’s a mistake. Salinas is Steinbeck Country, the thinly disguised locale of “East of Eden”, “The Red Pony”, and “The Long Valley.” The National Steinbeck Center is a modern, manageably sized exhibition space right at the end of Main Street in the middle of “Old Town Salinas”, with easy access off 101, and a sizable parking garage on the same block. 

If you’ve been traveling up California’s Central Valley on 101 on a hot day, it’s worth the stop just to get out of the car and sit in the luxuriously air-conditioned theater (on the right as you enter) to watch the 15-minute documentary about Steinbeck’s life. Across the lobby space from the theater is the exhibition space, which includes displays and discussion covering each of Steinbeck’s novels, a number of movie screens showing excerpts from the movie versions of “East of Eden”, “Grapes of Wrath”, “viva Zapata”, and videos of Steinbeck’s Nobel prize winning speech and various interviews. 

And the rest rooms are lovely.

If you happen to be stopping near lunchtime, stretch your stay and your legs by walking two blocks down Central Avenue to the Steinbeck House Restaurant, run by volunteers in the renovated boyhood home of John Steinbeck. The menu features local produce and an eclectic selection of dishes, including of course “East of Eden Pasta”. During the summer you can also take a tour of the home from attic to cellar (location of the gift shop).

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21 Mar 2023
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A Piece of My Mind: Weather or Not

Photo from CalFire CZU

For three years in California we have bewailed the drought, the shrinking reservoirs, the lowering aquifers, and debated whether or not to build additional dams and pipelines despite the environmental cost.  High winds threatened to snap power lines, spark fires, and drive them at breakneck speed across our forests. My gray water from dishes was poured onto any handy plant that would be grateful, my faucets were not allowed to run, I limited my dishwasher to once-a-day, and recklessly combined colors and whites in my laundry to save an extra load. Something called the Peculiarly Persistent Pressure Ridge was pushing rainfall northward, blocking rainfall during what were normally the soggy months.

Now the pattern has changed, at least for a while.  The Peculiarly Persistent Pressure Ridge has melted away, and now we have Atomospheric Rivers from Alaska (COLD!) or Hawaii (WET!) aiming straight at the midriff of California.  Instead of drought, we have record snow pack and rapidly filling reservoirs.  Instead of wildfires, we have floods and landslides.  Instead of talking of building more dams and pipelines, we are rushing resources to repair and maintain the deteriorating system of levys which protects our farmland.  High winds are still a threat, as toppled trees land on power lines and block roadways.

So instead of moaning about the drought, we exchange news of which house was crushed by trees, which roads are blocked, which neighborhood is without power and for how long.

Still, it’s better than arguing about what “woke” means, or whether racism is ingrained in our society, or if a tax cut for the wealthy will ever trickle down to the middle class, or whether the Ukraine will be our next Viet Nam, or the science behind vaccinations.  At least we haven’t politicized the weather. Yet.

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My debut novel, Fox Spirit, is appearing episode by episode on my sister blog, ajmccready.wordpress.com. New episodes arrive every Monday and Thursday. They’re short, so you’re not too late to check them out, and sign up for future happenings

Posted in California, climate, Memoir and tagged
25 Jan 2023
3 Comments

Freeway Free in California: Tiny Town, Gourmet Mecca

Princeton-by-the-Sea (sometimes, especially locally, called Princeton) is an unincorporated community on the coast of San Mateo County, California. As of 2000, the population of the community is 297. So how does this tiny community manage to support at least three very classy restaurants with a total seating capacity of at least 400?

Old-time California coasters know Princeton mostly for its excellent boat harbor, and for the annual surfing competition Mavericks, which actually takes place in Princeton, although it is usually attributed to neighboring Half Moon Bay. But the same turnoff which leads to the Mavericks overlook also leads to a cluster of destination restaurants, each with its own atmosphere and specialty.

Oldest of the group is Barbara’s Fish Trap, which began in 1971 as a little shack by the side of the road serving fish and chips to the folks moored in the harbor. Over the years the Fish Trap has expanded, added a neon fish sign over the take-out window, picnic tables, an awning and sheltered outdoor seating, and some inside seating, but the fish and chips are still the same and still attracting a line of people waiting for their orders which is visible just about any time you pass by.

Mezza Luna, at the far end of the harbor, was opened in 1993 per their website but looks older. It has the feel of an Italian family restaurant that has been at the harbor for generations, and their house-made fettucini is to die for, especially served with the fresh clams or shrimp and cream sauce that is a standard. This is a white-tablecloth restaurant with an extensive wine list (and generous pours). The service is attentive but not oppressive, and if you want your entree with a side of fettuccine, they are happy to oblige.

Just across the road from Barbara’s Fish Trap is the Half Moon Bay Brewing Company, a more casual restaurant as you might expect, with dog-friendly outdoor seating as well as comfortable indoor tables, both with views of the harbor. Their list of craft beers is extensive, but what keeps me coming back is their fish tacos, served baja-style with shredded cabbage, and sides of black beans, salsa, and delicious guacamole. The standard plate has three tacos, but the smaller serving of two is ample for any but the largest appetite.

As you make the turn to Pillar Point Harbor, it’s hard not to notice the large newish buildings on the right. This development includes a hotel, and a small shopping center, but the anchor tenant is La Costanera, a large and lovely Peruvian restaurant boasting a celebrity chef, a Michelin star, two stories of beautifully appointed seating areas, and food which is flat out wonderful. It’s the priciest of the choices, but oh my, what a marvelous setting and with food and service to match. We asked our waiter about the desserts, and he steered us away from our first choice, the Suspira a la Limena “unless you have a really sweet tooth.” The Vanilla Bean Panicotta which we shared instead was the perfect end to a superlative meal.

There are a couple of small restaurants on the same short road which we haven’t tried yet. My question, though, is: these restaurants have a combined seating capacity of at least 300, not including outdoor seating. How do they stay alive? The answer, of course, is that they are very very good. So do your part to keep them going – you won’t be sorry you turned off Highway 1 onto Capistrano Road, no matter which one you choose.

Posted in California, Freeway Free, hidden treasures, Travel and tagged
12 Oct 2022

Freeway-free in California: Amtrak Falters, BART to the rescue

We are ready for the parting of our ways:  M and the trailer will return to Davis, where she will dive headfirst into the maelstrom of detail involved with selling a house and buying another, while I will catch a Capital Corridor train at Fairfield and spend a relaxing two hours reading, writing, admiring the scenery, and feeling sorry for the people in the homeless encampments along the tracks.

First wrinkle:  There are now TWO Amtrak stations in Fairfield.  Our faithful GPS unerringly directs us to the new one, Fairfield – Vacaville.  I have been to the Fairfield station before it was re-labeled Suisun -Fairfield, and I am pretty sure this adobe “Transit Center” in the middle of a giant parking lot next to nothing at all is not it. 

Moments of panic –I check my ticket and realize the error.  Is this really a train stop?  Where are the tracks?  Will my ticket be good starting at a different station. Should we head off for the other station? Cooler heads prevail; I spot an underpass which leads toward the tracks, we trundle through and there are a couple of benches and a sign saying that the train I am scheduled to travel on will arrive in 15 minutes, and, most reassuringly, another passenger waiting. 

I hug M, “Wonderful trip!” and watch her pull out of the parking lot.  The train arrives as advertised, and the conductor doesn’t get around to our car to check my ticket until after we have arrived at and left Suisun Fairfield.  My only regret is the lack of a snack machine at the new station – I had counted on a candy bar to get me through to my Great America stop.  Rummaging through my tote bag, I find a forgotten granola bar.  All is well.

Until we get to Richmond.  We stop.  And stay.  An unintelligible announcement is made.  I get out and find a conductor in the next car.  “There’s damage to the tracks ahead.  We don’t know how long the delay will be.  Could be 45 minutes.  Could be two hours.”

I go back to my car, inform my fellow passengers, and we stare disconsolately out the window – at the sign that says “Take underpass for BART”.  The young woman across from me is distraught. “I’ve GOT to get to the Oakland Airport for a flight!  I allowed an extra hour but…”  

I look at the sign.  “There’s a BART stop at the Oakland Airport”, I tell her.  There is also a new BART station in Milpitas, not so much further from home than the Great America station.  We gather our bags and lead a parade of passengers to the BART station.

To our surprise and pleasure, a BART official is handy who tells us “We have an arrangement with Amtrak.  Just go through that turnstile there – no charge.”  A BART train arrives a few minutes later, I phone my Personal Travel Agent at home, he checks the route to the new station, and I settle down to read, write, admire the scenery, and feel sorry for the people in the homeless encampments along the tracks.

Coda: The next day I get a standard email from Amtrak asking about my trip.  I grouse about the lack of signage at the new station and most particularly about the delay and poor communication about it.  The next day I receive another email from Amtrak giving me a voucher good for the value of my trip from Fairfield –Suisun to Great America.  They are trying!

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