Letters 12/29/2024

• Christmas Responders
• Your Banner Here
• ’Twas The Night After Christmas…
• First Date
• He's Not Kidding
• Not The Only Case
• The Menace Of RFK Jr
• Vaccines Save Lives
• Forever Wars
• Point Arena Is The Next California Forever? That’s Not What’s Happening There.
• Northwest Passage

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CHRISTMAS RESPONDERS

Editor,

Here we are at Christmas. This is the time of year we receive cards, letters and visits at the office from many folks in the public who stop by and thank our deputies and dispatchers for their service.

As you settle in for time with family and friends our personnel will be patrolling the County and working to keep all of us safe. These folks don’t get the holidays off, however there are no complaints. This is because of the support all of our residents have poured out to the Sheriff’s Office. It truly means a lot to our first responders. For this I wanted to thank all of our personnel and our community members who take the time to thank them for their service.

Our partners in fire, EMS and the Department of Transportation will also be out serving our communities during the holidays. Let’s thank all of them for their service as well.

During this holiday season let’s all work to be kind and helpful to our fellow residents. Please drive careful during the inclement weather we are experiencing. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone in our county.

Sheriff Matt Kendall

Ukiah

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YOUR BANNER HERE

Dear Community Members,

We are excited to offer a unique opportunity to support Anderson Valley High School Athletics through tax-deductible sponsorship banners displayed on our tennis court fences. These banners serve a dual purpose—providing netting for the courts while offering excellent advertising visibility from Mountain View and Airport roads throughout the year. Your contribution will directly fund costs such as officials, tournament fees, team awards, and other sports-related expenses. These are costs not covered by the AV sports boosters and must be raised by the school.

We have multiple sponsorship options available:

Small Banner (4x7): $400 initial cost, $200 annual renewal

Large Banner (8x14): $1,200 initial cost, $400 annual renewal

Massive Banner (8x50): $3,200 initial cost, $1,200 annual renewal fee

This is a great way to promote your business or organization while supporting our student-athletes and the Anderson Valley community.

We will apply a UV coating annually upon receiving the renewal fee to protect the banners.

Thank you for considering this opportunity to invest in our athletics program.

To secure your banner or ask any questions, please contact our athletic director John Toohey at jtoohey@avpanthers.org

You can also fill out the form here: https://forms.gle/Exmpbj2ojko3njsGA

Checks should be made out to: Anderson valley High School

Memo Line: “Tennis Banner”

Mail checks to: Anderson Valley High School. PO Box 130. Boonville, CA 95415

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’TWAS THE NIGHT AFTER CHRISTMAS…

(…a few years ago)

’Twas the Night After Christmas
It mighta been two
I was out at Vic’s Bar
Having a few
Buying drinks for old friends,
It wasn’t too hard
Considering I had
My wife’s credit card

Drinks for the Journal:
Adam, Scott, Justine;
For me & KC, of course,
It’s our nightly routine
When what to my wondering
Eyes should appear
Jane Chambers and a sign:
“Will Work for Beer”

Dave Eyster swept in:
Mink cape and new bling
“Got a raise,” said Geniella,
“Now thinks he’s the king”
Lesser DA’s dashed out
And filled up a cab
Leaving Paul Sequiera
To pick up the tab

Chuck Savage, a Spam-tini:
“Ahh, this is Heaven!”
Next to him Deborah White
Drained a Steele 211
Al Kubanis, James Griffiths,
Each in a bow tie
Bruce McEwen wondering
Which guy’s gonna buy

Los Pomas, the Mikes,
Jeff, Hoover & Pat
As usual confused, asking
“This where it’s at?”
Came in walking backwards,
Rolling a bench…
Steve Mendoza smiled,
stirred his drink with a wrench

Bought an Rx cocktail
For Myer’s great Gina
I saw John McCarty search
For some guy to subpoena
The ADO’s (Patricia,
Rachell, Doug and Lew)
Wept at the loss
Of Old You-Know-Who

By the jukebox Pete Hoyle
Was making a deal
With a Laytonville dude
We all know as ‘Squeal’
The Anderson journalists,
Glenda and Bruce,
In a dark corner
Trading sources and juice

Drinks for Jerry & Ann
Bookstore royalty!
Rod, Kathy, Fred, Joanne:
Dog loyalty!
Purina for Ed Haynes,
(And to Todd and Tracy)
Cheers to those Macks:
Terry, Melody, Macy

Countin’ lambs, Steve Lorber
Ron Wilson, gettin’ well
Hangin' out, Ken Chapman
With stories to tell
Heidi spinnin’ yarns
Lee, John & Jen bakin’ pie
Liz & Tom in a cool new
Beemer rollin’ by

Now Lisa and Karen,
Famed local clippers
Mac Nabsters adjusting
Coats, ties & zippers
Best to my Marks
(W., C., R., & A)
We look to the future,
So probably should pray

Water Trough, what a loss!
I lifted a toast:
Golden West & Dick’s Bar,
Both on the coast
In came Jane Eller,
Stu Casteel talked drones
Next came Gregg Young,
Dick Selzer talked loans

I toasted Erin and Joanne
From our own B of A
Drinks with Steve Johnson,
And I let him pay
Jessie at Pizza Etc.,
Tickles everyone’s palate
Tony Summit, an artist
With roller and palette

Above the bar a TV:
Golden State rips Knicks
Jim Elledge, Dan Hibshman
Getting their kicks.
I chatted up Laurel Near
Now here’s a news leak:
She co-stars in
The column next week

Jill Doo with a Kodak
Popped flashes in eyes
Dave Anderson, alone,
Pulled wings off of flies
Slow-mo Sue Ranochak
Finally tallied the score
We’ve no Phil Baldwin
To kick ‘round anymore

Dave Hull, Ric Piffero,
Let’s hear you on the 4th!
Ross Liberty has his eye
On a project just north
My Kiwanis Club pals—
Like to see y’all again
Linda Bailey, Barb Bristol
Next time I’ll stop in

Cheers to Robert & Brenda
And cool Collie Xena
A fine dog to rival
Our Puppy Katrina
Did someone say Dog?
Without ol’ Simone
At her salon Paula
Is now left all alone

Salud, Bonnie Wildberger,
Same to Joe Crudo
(Reminder: Give treats
To Havana & Rio)
A morning wave to
Debbie, Dylan & Jace
Woof! to dog Henry,
Who found a great place

Colleague Susan Janssen
(Wordy, bilingual)
On a sleigh ride with bells
That tingual & jingual
Gloria Storm, a hurricane
A true cleaning machine
Wally Schlosser walked in
As always, serene

Happy days to Danielle,
And to Midge and to Frank
Our benefactress Tina,
Who works at the bank
Best to those Morrisons:
Annette, Fiona, Seamus
And My Man Martin Brown,
Who oughta be famous

Doc Jeffers, Doc Limbird—
Who’s pulling teeth?
To Mel, Olivia, Willie
Here’s a holiday wreath
Poor Kevin Baldwin,
All those Kitties to please
(Some navigators,
Some retirees)

Here’s to Keith and to Jan
(Lawyers helping friends)
Tears to Carly, Cash, Sadie
At the saddest of ends…
A toast to Jared & Kaylie,
Who insure us at Farmer’s
And to Dink & to Randy,
Who also are Farmers

That’s one Haehl of a family,
Michael and Dan
We need vigilantes to assist
Dear sister Suzanne
Now to Justin & Shannon,
And to Jason & Liz
Off to Italy or Wales,
Wherever that is

In Willits, all rise for
Kirk Gustafson, marooned,
And Annie & Don Samson,
Playwrights festooned
O Kip: Drink of wisdom
(Make ‘em all doubles)
I’ll see you in Phoenix
For our annual troubles

(The “poem” is now over, but I haven’t run out of people to thank.. Daughter Dearest (that’s Emily) and Sea of Wisdom (Lucas) are jewels in the crown; Miss Trophy, la Teri, is Queen of the town. Thanks everyone, from the bottom of Tom Hine’s heart, and the middle of TWK’s liver.)

Tommy Wayne Kramer

Ukiah

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FIRST DATE

Editor,

When I was in high school my date, a very good-looking tall guy who was too tall for me (5.2′ in shoes), took me to a Cal Tech party that was simply couples sitting in a small, very crowded dorm room watching Star Trek. I had never dated a Cal Tech guy because (a) I had never been asked out by one, and (b) they were considered “nerds”, but these guys were smoking these huge marijuana joints all night, passing them around, and filling the room with massive amounts of smoke. Being not only small but weighing less than probably anyone in the room, I became seriously intoxicated, and started freaking out, because I was overdosing, an extremely unpleasant experience. . I thought I was going to pass out, or maybe just disappear into pure energy. My date took me outside and had me breathe into a paper bag, I guess I seriously embarrassed him, because he called me a “baby.” Well, I wasn’t a college student, probably about 15 or 16, so I guess, technically I was a baby. Anyway, so much for pot making you stupid, as Cal Tech is known as the hardest school in the country to get into and, I would think, to stay enrolled in. As for Star Trek, I thought it was incredibly tacky, with its phony-looking props and landscapes, but it did have bright colors and a “trippy” plot. I have never seen such a rapt audience. Of course, “Captain Kirk” was cute, but I was too far back in the crowd to get a good look at him, lol. I now enjoy the old shows, but still think they are pretty phony looking. The newer series are better in terms of props, special effects, and costumes, but still lacking in good plots and dialog, in my view I know this is kind of un-hip of me, and my husband, who is far cooler than I am, loves all of the shows. As for the cute guy date, he had to pick me up to kiss me goodnight. That was our first and last date.

Sarah Kennedy Owen

Ukiah

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HE'S NOT KIDDING

Editor:

I understand that California is a sanctuary state, and Los Angeles and others are sanctuary cities. However, let me advise caution for people at all levels — state officials, county supervisors, mayors, city council members, law enforcement, NGOs and private individuals. There is a specific federal law that criminalizes assisting people who are in the country illegally.

Section 1324 of the U.S. Code details the legal consequences for anyone who knowingly aids, transports or conceals undocumented immigrants to help them evade law enforcement. Violations can include severe penalties, such as fines and imprisonment, depending on the offense’s nature and the number of people involved.

The law targets various forms of assistance to avoid detection, which can encompass sheltering individuals, providing transportation and other acts intended to help undocumented immigrants evade capture.

So just a word to the wise ― yes, it’s good to be compassionate and caring, but you’d be well-advised not to break the law in the process. Tom Homan, the incoming administration’s border czar, has said he will prosecute people under this statute, and he’s not kidding. Don’t let it be you.

Willis Eschenbach

Occidental

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NOT THE ONLY CASE

Editor,

Regarding “Someone is buying up a historic coastal city. Is it the next California Forever?” (Soleil Ho, SFChronicle.com, Dec. 14): While buying most of a town may raise eyebrows, it’s private equity’s growing grip on the housing market undermines affordability.

Institutional investors accounted for 28% of single-family home purchases nationwide in 2022, up from 19% in 2021, according to the Harvard Joint Center for Housing Studies. In lower-cost housing markets, Redfin found that investors targeted 26% of the most affordable homes, effectively shrinking opportunities for first-time buyers.

In California, this trend is reshaping communities. Private equity firms often convert purchased homes into high-rent properties, prioritizing profit over affordability. This drives up home prices and rental costs while pricing out local families. In 2023, the average rent increase nationally of 7.95% was more than double the general inflation rate of 3.4%.

The U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development highlights the disproportionate impact of investor activity in high-demand regions like California. This is happening largely because the wealthiest Americans have so much money, they have difficulty finding places to invest it.

We can’t solve the housing crisis by building alone. Addressing systemic issues like unchecked investor activity is critical to keeping housing a public good, not just a financial asset.

Michael Moore

Walnut Creek

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THE MENACE OF RFK JR

Editor:

I am appalled by Robert Kennedy Jr.’s threat to the administration of the polio vaccine. I am 79. I not only remember the 1952 polio epidemic but was personally involved. I apparently had the early stage but no paralysis. My brother Terry got the full disease. I can still picture our mother telling the neighbors about the diagnosis.

Eventually an operation was performed on Terry. Bone was fused into his spine. It made his back stiff, but he was able to walk and eventually live a normal life. After the operation, he wore a cast stretching from his neck to his hips. It was summer. My mother’s former boss bought an air conditioner so he wouldn’t suffer unduly. Terry, now 82, has scoliosis but keeps going.

Another even more tragic instance of polio happened to my sister-in-law’s sister Lois, who caught polio at about age 15. She was paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of her life (lived into her 70s.). The polio vaccine came out soon after the epidemic. It was a miracle. It saved so many lives and rid the country of this plague. Those of us who remember what it was like before the vaccines must stand up and be counted and keep Kennedy from being confirmed.

Antoinette J. Kuhry

Sonoma

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VACCINES SAVE LIVES

Editor:

I am responding to the dangerous idea of eliminating vaccines. As an example, the Centers for Disease Control says 1 of every 1,000 measles cases results in encephalitis, an inflammation of the brain that can be fatal. At age 6, before the measles vaccine became available, I had measles and contracted encephalitis, had convulsions and was in a coma for two week. Luckily, I survived, but many did not, including my father who later died of encephalitis.

Janet Greene

Cloverdale

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FOREVER WARS

Editor:

The Washington Post estimates that 4.5 million people have been killed in the “forever wars” since 9/11, many of them women and children. Today there are 117 million war refugees.

Those figures, however, do not describe the horrific deaths, the extermination of families, the deaths and crippling wounds of children and the agony and suffering of survivors. Living in camps or collapsed buildings, they have no idea where their next meal will come from, where they will sleep or when it will end.

Have we achieved anything through this loss of human life and destruction, paid for by our taxes and the lives of American soldiers? Think what the money spent on these useless wars could do if it were spent on health care, infrastructure, education, housing and climate change.

The real beneficiaries of perpetual war are the weapons manufacturers and the major investment firms that profit from their earnings. Since members of Congress can also own stock, they can fatten their portfolios by increasing “defense” spending.

Even after the bombs stop dropping, billions will be allocated in no-bid contracts to rebuild the cities our weapons destroyed, while at home, our cities deteriorate.

Tony White

Santa Rosa

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POINT ARENA IS THE NEXT CALIFORNIA FOREVER? THAT’S NOT WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE.

To the Editor (of the SF Chronicle)

Regarding “Someone is buying up a historic coastal city. Is it the next California Forever?” (Soleil Ho, SFChronicle.com, Dec. 14): I read Opinion columnist Soleil Ho’s hit piece with dismay. Point Arena, population 450, can hardly be compared with the grandiose plans for a city of tens of thousands in the Sacramento Delta.

Jeff Hansen came to Point Arena about 10 years ago with his life savings intending to pursue his love of building restoration and developing distressed properties.

Over the next decade, Hansen bought a number of run-down properties and successfully rehabbed many of them, including a motel/restaurant and about a dozen small apartments.

Full disclosure: I have worked for Hansen, mostly as a carpenter. I also owned the apartment when Olivia, a source for this opinion piece, was a tenant for about a year. Olivia is also Hansen’s ex-tenant and one of his detractors.

Hansen, and his family of investors, deserve an apology. Sadly, that is unlikely.

Richey Wasserman

Point Arena

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NORTHWEST PASSAGE

Editor,

We found Eugene to be a charming place. Most of the town seems like some kind of symbiotic (or even parasitic) growth from the University — which itself was lovely, by the way. Certainly quite the symphony in brick. I was taken to the University's art museum on Friday evening for a free (!) tea & snacks reception, and toured their surprisingly fine collection. Too bad, I thought, that my poor son had that 'D' in French one semester and the U of O turned him down! Thank goodness Humboldt State was more understanding about that kind of thing. Must be the fog.

Eugene's downtown district is pleasantly small and funky, and the public art is agreeably eclectic (though the statue of Ken Kesey isn't fat enough) but for all that, there are way too many shuttered businesses to inspire confidence. The bookstores were rather a disappointment, too — outright snobs in one place, very dispiriting; the very mention of Mr. Harry Potter drew nothing but disdainful scowls. The biggest publishing phenomenon in 20 years — so why should a bookseller be interested?

The damp weather made walking a bit of a trial, but we did tour the two historic cemeteries and met quite a few energetic, intelligent seniors walking their various hounds. The mist let up, however, for Saturday's “farmer's market” which was a lively and delicious gathering, not to mention entertaining; on one corner the young, tattooed and freaky were thumping drums and doin' the boogie-woogie as well as their herbally addled senses would allow, and across the road was a carefully groomed gathering of obese white folks bellerin' their love for the J-Man, even more horribly and permanently addled but without the aid of psychoactive materials (or so I assumed, anyway; hard to tell if that gleam in their glazed eyes is The Spirit, or Prozac). Equal opportunity for mental decomposition is about the best that America can offer these days, it seems.

But they have a nice train station in Eugene, so I'll give 'em that. We went on to Portland for a few days, staying downtown (a stone's throw from Powell's, actually) and an easy walk from their grand old Union Station. Portland is a much more thoroughly urban scene, and as such the mendicants, bums, wackos, castoffs, police, power-walking pin-stripe suits (always on the 'phone, I noted), stoopit tattoos and hideous facial piercings are legion.

Ordinary folks, it seems, have fled to the 'burbs. In fact Powell's was about the only place a fellow can get a bit of peace and quiet in that town. I simply cannot tolerate being deafened by music while I eat either, so trendy food joints were impossible for me, but a “gourmet” (read: expensive) pizzeria proved very tasty and so we ate there.

I had my 14 y/o daughter and her best friend in tow, so I was consistently out-voted in just about everything else. Except Powell's. Finally, Seattle, the ostensible reason for this vacation — to look up a couple of old college buddies I haven't seen since 1980. Again we were downtown, mostly because the hotel was an easy walk from the train station, and again we were obliged to run the gauntlet of contemporary life's urine-soaked career losers, though I must say they were much better behaved than in Portland, much less aggressive or presumptuous.

In fact I think Seattle's downtown has a lot going for it, Free Metro Bus Service being a part of that. Too, I really liked the Pike Place Market, pricey as it was; excellent fish, great neon, and it reminded me strongly of my old dad, now long departed. Of course the era-specific Space Needle makes the PPM look like a bargain.

But hey, we were on vacation, and everybody wanted to eat in the goofy revolving restaurant up top, although lunch+tip pretty much guaranteed my little girl won't be going to an ivy league college without a major scholarship. $26 for a cheeseburger! I exaggerate not! When I was a kid it seemed to be understood that every city in the US would soon have its Jetsons-style revolving restaurant; 1 circuit per hour was the standard. But the Needle (appropriately named, when you see the check) took only 45 minutes. Quizzing our waiter, I learned that a few years ago they actually cranked up the motors 25%! Faster. ahem, turnaround, was the idea. Another Yankee marketing triumph.

I will, however, sing the praises of Seattle's second-hand bookshops which range the full gamut from tiny bomb-flinging-anarchist cubbyholes flogging crude pamphlets and bent paperbacks, to immense, way-too-clean establishments bulging with shiny Taschen 55-pound art tomes destined for leisure-class coffee tables.

The trip home was most pleasant indeed — and really, what's not to like when one is tooling along on the rails in one's private 1st class bedroom with one's own private bathroom and a private shower? (We were on vacation, so I threw frugality to the winds.) Even more shocking, coming and going we were entirely on time! For many years Amtrak has enjoyed a richly deserved reputation of pre-Mussolini punctuality, but this appears to be a thing of the past.

The “Coast Starlight” arrived and departed everywhere smack on the minute, timetablewise, making me wonder if they haven't been hiring Swiss consultants. And listening to them. Except for the tiresome inevitability of the stations being in the “unfashionable” districts of each and every metrop, rail travel has only improved in this benighted country over the last few years.

Our southerly journey through Oregon was particularly highlighted by, first, the postcard scenery flowing past our private window (snowy meadows, craggy peaks, lush evergreens, glistening waterfalls splashing fetchingly o'er the boulders, etc.) and second, an impromptu night-time stop at a remote crossing where the train was met by two sets of stern Oregon State Troopers, there to escort from the rails a particularly foolish reefer-sucking passenger with about eleven sloppy parcels. Obliviously lighting up was, apparently, not stupid enough for this fellow: he'd also chosen to smuggle two cats aboard with him! What with every passenger pressing their nose against the starboard glass to watch the ensuing drama, it was surprising the whole train didn't tilt.

But after a few minutes we chugged on our merry way, leaving this reeking boob and his contraband menagerie to their fate. Durance vile might possibly be nicer in rural Oregon, but I don't intend to find out for myself. Nice to be home, even if it is flaming hot and my son forgot to water the tomato sprouts, or should I say former tomato sprouts? Well, he's 18, so what can you expect? Humboldt State, I suppose.

J.B. Reynolds

Graton