It feels like summer without the heat as I write this on Memorial Day — kids in graduation gowns at Cafe at the Inn, campers parked along E. B St., and more families than dogs strolling First.
Just returned from a trip to Idaho to visit sister Janie and Tom and their family. To say that I was treated like a queen was an understatement — lavender spray for my pillow, fresh new sheets on the bed, and my special gluten free, dairy free foods in the fridge.
My nephew Ben took first place in the Idaho Truck Driving Championship and is on to the nationals. As a little boy, he loved trucks of all kinds. “Big truck,” he would declare when he saw one. They run cabs with three trailers up there. Can you imagine backing up?
My eight year old twin grand nieces looked like little teenagers in their stylish jeans and heels — one rocking wedgie sandals and the other snakeskin mules. I wanted the shoes. Last summer they were little girls. Their 12-year-old brother Liam is a gaming prodigy and lights up when talking game theory. The last game I played was Clue where Mrs. Peacock killed Colonel Mustard with the lead pipe in the billiard room.
Our first stop was Freak Alley in Boise festooned with murals, graffiti, paintings, and graphics and opening onto a larger square of still more art, cartoons, and the gigantic faces of MLK and Jimi Hendricks. It’s a way to keep graffiti off the streets, and it seems to be working. Boise is as clean as a whistle.
Took a bike tour of Boise and Pocatello; turned a red wheel to set off a dynamite explosion in a mine and loaded the gold into a mining cart, and designed my dream home all on interactive exhibits at the new high-tech Idaho State Museum. An outlier was the stuffed two-headed goat.
We drove to Sun Valley to visit old friends Sarah Michael and Bob Jonas who literally have a mountain in their back yard. Sarah, a former Blaine County supervisor and activist in the only blue county in Idaho, is the unfortunate victim of a SLAPP suit filed three years ago by a billionaire rancher. It sounds just like what it is — a Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation meant to intimidate and silence critics by forcing them to hire lawyers until they run out of money and give up. “The lawsuit is financially devastating,” said Sarah “but free speech and the Sawtooth National Recreational Area are worth fighting for.”
The rancher illegally built an airstrip for his plane and helicopter in the middle of the National Recreation Area which the Blaine County Housing Authority under Sarah’s leadership opposed. He filed suit, citing defamation, lost in the lower court, and appealed to the Idaho Supreme Court. That court sent it back to the lower court and the case is in limbo. Meanwhile, her nemesis, who has a history of legal disputes over land use, was recently confirmed as the Administration’s Undersecretary for Natural Resources and Environment and is working with DOGE to cut regulations. What’s next — a spa at Morning Glory Pool in Yellowstone?
At Hemingway’s memorial north of Ketchum a bronze bust of Hemingway looks out over an emerald green valley and the meandering Snake River. Quaking aspen and cottonwood huddle on the banks as the jagged white edges of the Sawtooths sparkle in the distance. A beer can, cigarette lighter, and various pens and pencils have been left on his nearby grave — a simple granite slab.
Averell Harriman, then Union Pacific Chairman, and later Governor of New York, cabinet secretary, and diplomat, created Sun Valley Ski Resort. Thrilling to see the classic old 1936 lodge recently renovated in to a five-star hotel with spa. The skating rink where Sonia Henie and Peggy Fleming practiced is still there. Strolling down the halls we viewed old photos of past guests — Gary Cooper, John Wayne, Marilyn Monroe, Gregory Peck. Harriman looked dashing in his alpine sweater and stylish wool pants. We sat in the lobby hoping for a celebrity siting, but Arnold was probably back in the Pacific Palisades.
Can’t think about Averell without remembering stories about his third wife Pamela Churchill Hayward Harriman — Winston Churchill’s daughter-in-law. Pamela knew her way around the block. But that’s another story and a titillating one. She was appointed Ambassador to France by Bill Clinton. Pamela met her maker swimming laps at the Paris Ritz, wearing a bespoke swim suit, no doubt. Check out her new bio —“Kingmaker: Pamela Harriman’s Astonishing Life of Power, Seduction, and Intrigue” by Sonia Purnell.
Back home in Benicia Thursday I sampled Chay’s strawberries. “They were large, and they were fine, and they were honest,” as Hemingway might say.
Up the street the Benicia High School Band performed. Was stopped in my tracks when I heard an explosive drum solo worthy of Gene Krupa. Did a double take. The drummer was a little kid. Caught up with him when he finished his routine. Jason, a fifth grader, was modest about his performance. “I take drumming lessons up the street,” he said. I assumed he meant Mozart, Earhart & Me. This is a kid to watch. He was hanging with his friend, Rick, a third grader and a skateboard aficianado. I’ve got 610,000 followers on Instagram,” Rick told me. Third grade? I was still reading “Dick and Jane.”
Caught Gallery 621’s show “Sense and Nonsense” with Nikki Basch Davis and Jerrold Turner. My sister Susan and I laughed out loud at Turner’s outrageous and irreverent paintings. This is Jerry in his dotage, eschewing reality and letting his imagination run wild. Three of my favorites:
“Young Trumpenstein” is a dilly — the monster with an orange face and blond bouffant, electric volts shooting from his neck, as he flips the bird at the exultant doctor. “Happy Egg Hunting” — a plein air scene off 9th St. with fried eggs as clouds and melting on cliffs like Dali watches. In “Ukraine Women Attack” three hefty ladies in blue and yellow wetsuits shoot the curl on their boards as they pack automatic weapons, sporting bullet packed bandoliers across their ample chests. You can see more in his books at blurb.com. Closes June 1. gallery621.com
Letters From Benicia 