Le tout Benicia was out for a stroll down First Street Saturday A few nimbus clouds danced in the cobalt sky. Gone were the ferocious cumulus nimbus that blanketed us for days. Learned about clouds in the second grade — cirrus, stratus, nimbus, but my all-time favorite is a buttermilk sky. Not a fan of buttermilk, but when its spilled over the sky its lovely. Eggnog is another story. “Oh buttermilk sky, I’m keeping my eye peeled on you …”
Bookshop Benicia is hosting a Jane Austin Tea at the shop today to celebrate Jane’s 250th birthday. “I’ve read all of her books,” I told Mary at the desk. “Which is your favorite?” she asked as my mind went blank and I couldn’t remember one title.
“It depends on my frame of mind when I read them,” I blurted out insincerely, remembering Big Orange’s response when asked which Bible verse was his favorite.
“I wouldn’t want to get into it because to me that’s very personal,” he balked. “Your favorite — the New or Old Testament?” the reporter asked. “Probably, umm, equal. I think it’s just an incredible, the whole Bible is just incredible. It’s my favorite book, even before ‘Art of the Deal.’” Puhleeze.
Later, I remembered my favorite Austen — “Pride and Prejudice.” Even with his pride and his prejudice, Big O is no Mr. Darcy.
Attended the annual five-day Winter Solstice Zoom retreat through Spirit Rock just before Christmas. It’s a yearly ritual that restores balance and strengthens daily practice. I took the five precepts: not killing, stealing, lying, taking intoxicants, and celibacy.
After a day of grappling with a monkey mind, woke up the next morning to ants marching over my kitchen counter. Spent the next half hour gently guiding these sentient beings back into their hole and then plugging it with earthquake paste. Voila!
The following morning there were twice as many ants — from another hole. This was not an orderly procession but a humongous contingent of ants moving in multiple directions, in and out between tiles, and down the walls. So …. I pulled out the forbidden white chalk that I bought from an ancient hardware store in SF Chinatown many decades ago and drew a line through the multitudes. By evening they were gone. I had broken a vow. I’m hoping that my karma doesn’t take too big of a hit.
A few days later I attended the 10 pm Christmas Eve mass at St. Paul’s with my friend Michael. It was magical as I drove down an eerily empty First Street, the trees barren of leaves, and the lights reflecting off the wet pavement. Pulled up opposite the front doors which were open wide, welcoming worshippers. Holiday wreaths hung in the spaces between the stained glass windows. Candles and poinsettias filled the chancellory and organ music suffused the sanctuary.
Saxophonist Cameron DePalma and music director John Partridge played a heartfelt prelude — “O Holy Night” followed by “O Come All Ye Faithful” sung by the congregation. The choir, attired in starchy white robes, sang more carols led by Partridge who shifted seamlessly between playing the organ and the piano.
Reverend Annie offered an inspiring sermon about the value of community, generosity, and patience. A woman called her a few days earlier to ask for rent money. The woman, who had tried every church she could with no luck, was to be evicted from her apartment if she couldn’t come up with $600 right away. Reverend Annie was able to offer her all that was available in the church coffers, but it was only $200. Miraculously, the next morning St. Paul’s treasurer called saying that he had put an extra $800 into the account in case of an emergency.
“We’ve got you covered,” she told the desperate woman.
“Your generosity has kept one woman from being homeless this Christmas,” she told the congregation. We filed out of the sanctuary to a rhapsody of “Joy to the World.”
The day before the parade I ran into the Grinch at Benicia Main Street. Paul Dismuke, the Grinch for the past 15 years in the Christmas Parade, was wearing his street clothes and was quite approachable.
“What color tractor will you be riding this year?” I asked. “I’m leaving the green one at home and driving the red.”
“Tell me a bit about the job.”
“A few years ago a little girl grabbed my face and said ‘Why do you have to be so mean?’ It was so sweet. I’m thinking of getting a big heart and putting it on me.”
“How will you stay warm? It’s going to be freezing out there.”
“I’m going to wear long johns and sweat clothes and try to make as many kids cry as I can,” he said laughing. Almost forgot my See’s as I rushed out of the building before he started turning green.
The week before, walking with my friend Dennis over to Cafe at the Inn, I lost my breath. Sat down on one of those metal electrical boxes to rest. Concerned neighbors called 911 and within minutes a big firetruck with sirens blaring was barreling down E. 2nd St. Three paramedics jumped out, checked my vitals, and asked questions. They were Sam Purdy, Bill Untalan, and Ryan McDonald. I began to feel better.
“Do you want to go to the hospital?” William asked. “No, thank you.” He took me for a walk to see if I was okay.
After I signed some releases, Sam asked, “Can we drive you home?”
I looked at the firetruck. “Actually, we were on our way to breakfast. Could you drive us there?”
“Sure thing, we know the Cafe.”
I pulled myself up onto the front seat, and Dennis climbed into the back behind some equipment. “This is my fist time driving this truck,” Ryan said. It was thrilling. Felt really high in the saddle. Sam and Bill followed on foot. We were delivered to the Cafe garden. No siren this time. I was happy that I’d taken time with my toilette earlier that morning — I chose an all leopard ensemble. Leopard will take you anywhere. Dennis got some great photos of us. Thank you for your service Benicia Fire Department!
Happy New Year everybody!
Letters From Benicia 