Date Night

During our nightly walk past the Casino building (which doubles as the most unique movie theater you could imagine), Scott noticed the movie poster for Will Ferrell in Land of the Lost. He said we should try going to the movies the next evening, which was Sunday. I stared at him for a moment, to rule out an attempt at humor, aneurysm or stroke.

In the ten years we've been together we haven't been to a single movie or live performance of any kind. He goes into a myriad of reasons why he will absolutely refuse to go, can't understand how anyone can suffer through the volume, the crowds, the uncomfortable seats, the boredom, or the hostage situation of getting trapped in a theatre anywhere for a specified amount of time. So, don't ask! Okay, I get it. No movies.

Still, I think it's sweet when he romanticizes concepts like couples going to the movies, and wants to give it a try. I always support the notion, even though I'm fairly certain something predictable will occur.

Sunday came and after dinner, off we went. We walked out to the Casino in time to make the 7pm showing. I documented the occasion before we went in, in case we left in a hurry:

You can sense the apprehension...

Scott bought a soda at the snack bar, and we chose our seats. It truly is gorgeous inside the theater. Plus, on weekends movie-goers are treated to an enjoyable live performance of a few tunes on the vintage pipe organ as you wait for the movie to start. It was a light crowd too. So far, so good!

I took the Bose noise-canceling headphones with me just in case he needed to put them on to mute the sound. "I may not need them," he said. About three minutes into the movie, on went the Princess Leia earmuffs. I heard someone a few rows behind us whisper, "It's Scott," when the headphones went on, which made me smile. His quirky behavior is not just accepted, but expected by our island neighbors.

He wouldn't have been able to make it without those headphones. Though the acoustics are amazing inside, it was just too loud for him. He started out okay, but fell asleep about twenty minutes in, then drifted in and out a few times (food processing going on, I think).

I looked over at my snoozing husband, slumped over and settled into his seat, his earmuffed head bobbing up and down as he slumbered. There did seem to be something romantic about it after all, and it was that he tried. He actually made it through the entire film (as long as intermittent sleeping counts), and for his first movie theater experience in ten years, I think he did pretty well.

He says he wants to try it again sometime...I'm sure we will...

Flu Shot!

The threat of swine flu (H1N1 for Scott's comfort) and the media's take on what to do about it has been quite a boon for the island. All cruise ships bound for ports along the Mexican Riviera have been rerouted to other Pacific Coast stops. Catalina Island is one of them. It's amazing how the town is transformed. On our way back from Pebbly Beach, it's unusual to see a cruise ship here, and even Olive can tell something's up.

The Catalina Island Chamber of Commerce is a very proactive force in promoting the island, recognizing opportunities and making contacts. Their efforts have island merchants working at peak capacity to accommodate the cruisers. It's been a tough year overall for all tourist-dependent economies like ours, and this is unexpected.

There were two cruise ships in harbor Friday.

Saturday morning there are two different cruise ships in harbor already by 6 a.m.

We stroll back through town around noon to check on the "effects of the flu" on the island. The main street skirting the harbor, only two streets away from the quiet street where we live, is filled to the brim with people. We hear and see a lively and colorful Folklorico performance, with the two cruise ships as a backdrop:

Large crowds are enjoying the show, including a huge "pack" of men dressed in solidarity. They fill the streets, the bars, they're everywhere! They're all wearing T-shirts explaining their mission (I hope the bride is doing something fun this weekend):

Apparently the back of the shirt serves as a To Do checklist of some sort:

All I know is that they contributed to the healthy bottom line for a few merchants in town, and hopefully no one got hurt (there seemed to be quite a few of them in the fountain as I walked away).

Sunday comes, and here's another one! Welcome ashore!

Hummingbird Moth

It's getting ridiculous how happy I am about the photos that my iPhone takes! Never mind that it's a gorgeous day on Santa Catalina Island (Wish you were here, when are you coming anyway?). Almost anywhere you look you'd find something interesting. Today, this bottle brush plant caught my eye because it didn't seem to have a single flaw. No insect damage, no malformed leaves. Just perfect. Each perfectly formed individual brush could've scrubbed a bottle spotless without missing a single cranny. And the way it hugged the street sign...

Then, a few feet away I actually had some success taking a photo of a creature that seemed unlikely to be photographed without a "real" camera, a hummingbird moth! (You know I like bugs, right?)

I tried, but never expected to capture a shot. Only after I got home and uploaded the photo did I realize I had something (according to me). This bug is too amazing. A big fat moth that behaves just like a hummingbird, complete with a long, noodle-nose-thingy (probably not the scientific term) that sucks up the delicious nectar from flowering plants as it hovers using its insanely-rapidly-beating mothy wings. They're not limited by the fluttering, hurky-jerky flight path used by most other moths. They take the direct route, then hang out in a hover.

This photo is exactly how it fell out of the iPhone untouched. Hard to believe there's a moth in there...I was unaware that I'd framed the Casino in the shot to perfection! How lucky is that? Never say never when dealing with dumb luck.

Don't see the moth? I completely understand. I only saw it because I knew where to look. Here's a cropped shot and an arrow...

Need a closer view than that? I'd want one too.

Now you can see why I said "according to me" I had something. You be the judge. I don't think you'll see that shot used as a botanical reference anytime soon.

Luckily, my nephew Matt was visiting with friends. Besides articulating his desire to get a pet flying squirrel (of course he does...), he caught this great shot, while the moth was in mid-sip, with a "real" camera (thanks Matt)!

Here's looking at you!

P.S. You can see one in action below:

Easter Sunday Theology

Started our morning walk at 5:15 a.m. No one else is up but the fishermen on the Green Pier and the night herons. Olive gallops around off-leash in the cool air, and we head out toward Descanso Beach.

We're greeted by a few neighbors also walking out to Descanso Beach to attend the Easter "Sonrise" Services. More people than we ever see at this time of day are trickling out into the fresh morning air and heading for Descanso. Father Paul buzzes by in his golf cart, headed that way too, to prepare for the service.

We alter our route, since Scott's status as "militant atheist" (my terminology, I also like to say he's got "religious Tourette's") has him in imminent danger of spontaneous combustion when approaching a place of worship. I like to do what I can to protect our faith-based friends from undue exposure to Scott's opinions on important days. We veer off-course to avoid any potential calamity.

Because of Scott's strong opinions, people are sometimes curious about my own spiritual beliefs. I generally steer clear of discussions of faith, it's such a personal matter. I don't resist it, however, when people tell me I exhibit the characteristics of a humanist, which I've heard a few times over the years.

It's not quite right, but it's close enough to allow some closure for the inquiring mind. People like labels that are relatable and retellable. The truth is, I'm fine with whatever beliefs and experiences make you feel happy and connected to what you find spiritually fulfilling. For some people I know, spiritual fulfillment can be attained through simple exposure to puppy breath, favorite music, a rainbow, a sunset, or the laughter of a loved one...Oh, I guess that person would be me.

Scott doesn't "do" religious holidays. He doesn't "do eating holidays" either, so I'm back on the boat to the mainland this morning to enjoy a delicious brunch and probably some Scrabble with friends and family at Bev's by 1pm. I'll fix him his favorite waffle breakfast before I go. I "do eating holidays" perhaps a little too well.

Marveled at the sunrise from this vantage point while waiting for the coffee shop to open:

Enjoy the day...

P.S. I won the Scrabble match, even though I was comatose from eating turkey and enough gravy to fill a moat (I grew up in a home that considered gravy a beverage, which explains a lot). As designated scorekeeper, I actually napped on the score pad "pillow" between plays, which became a joke because it seemed to help my game (my sister usually wins).

P.S.S. Thank you Alison, for noticing that Scott, Olive and I were making a mad dash through the streets of Avalon to try to make the boat in time. Without your offer of a ride and me shoving the big black dog, my bags and me into the cab of your truck, we wouldn't have made it! In a small town, sometimes two minutes and the kindness of a neighbor can make all the difference! Olive and I boarded the boat and it left seconds later, we cut it that close! We've all "missed the boat" at one point or another...and I'm thankful you helped me avoid that experience this time.

We made it!

Catalina Morning

Amazing morning sky...felt lucky and so grateful.

Spring Break Benefits

This image sums up an experience available on Catalina Island that would be hard to find anywhere else on the planet! In most places, golf carts are filled with golfers in jaunty garb, expensive equipment and icy beverages.

Until the recent arrival of Neighborhood Electric Vehicles, Avalon was the only city in California where standard issue golf carts were considered "street legal." This one isn't just legal...it's so cute it should be mandatory!

Michele, one of Olive's favorite people, is the driver. She stopped the cart for some doggie love. The batch 'o cuties are her nieces (they must've just arrived, judging by the luggage and Hello Kitty backpacks). That cart was bursting with goodness...

This Morning's Crossing

Quick snap off of the stern...

(did I mention I love my iPhone?)

Nature's Alphabet

As if to say, "Dis is da tree."

Walking Olive through the eucalyptus that skirts the golf course on the island, saw this root volunteering the letter D. Walked up to it at just the right angle, I guess. I was amazed how it turned back into a freeform shape so easily with just a few steps. The closer we got...the perfect D dissolved into an ordinary, unremarkable branch. It seems like there's a lesson to be learned there somewhere...I guess it's all about the approach.

View From the Stairs

Moments like this are meant to be shared...

(I love my iPhone)

Barbie Got a Ticket

Living in the "flats" of Avalon can require some occasional vehicle finagling. You must move your vehicle to the approved side of the street on certain days before 9 a.m to accommodate the street sweeper. Of course, you can also plan ahead and park on the acceptable side the night before, if there's a spot available. So, by 9 a.m. one side of the street is often empty of vehicles while the other side is full.

I'm quite absent-minded and usually preoccupied with other busy thoughts. My neighbor Brian has saved me hundreds of dollars in $38 tickets by giving me advance warning to move my vehicle. Once he figures out there's little chance I'm going to remember on my own, he reminds me. He's an amazing neighbor. I feel touched and grateful for his courtesy. I'm sure he doesn't understand why I can't keep track of such a regularly occurring event, but he would never mention it, he's so nice.

Returning from our morning walk, on the side of the street that should be empty, parked in the red zone, we saw this:



A Barbie Cadillac Escalade! All alone at the curb.

I like living in a community where a Barbie luxury vehicle is as welcome at the curb as any other vehicle, without fear of theft or any other indignities. Space is at a premium and there are typically so few good spots to park your golf cart (or any of the other uniquely "island vehicles"). Barbie would certainly be exempt from complying with the usual DMV rules anyway.

A pink toy car at the curb reminds me what a special place this island is, so I decided to go back and take some photos. It was just so cute, and so "Catalina. "

As I approached the front of the toy I saw this:

Uh oh! What the? That can't be true! It's got to be a joke. The code enforcement officer is a lovely, caring person. I think she's great, despite the many tickets she's issued to us while we learned the rules of the streets of Avalon (Brian can only do so much). She's got a job to do and she does it well. She'd lift the Barbie-mobile and move it to the sidewalk if it was a problem.

Upon further investigation and a closer look at the ticket:

Real ticket, wrong everything else. Someone celebrated in the New Year by getting their first parking fine for 2009. The proud five-year-old who owns this vehicle has not run afoul of the law just yet.

Islanders never miss an opportunity for a laugh, and most are jokesters and joke tellers. Someone made good use of their parking ticket from a few days before. It was good for a laugh, and I laughed. Not only that, it's still a cute image...maybe even cuter.

It's definitely an image unique to Catalina Island and one more reason to say, "Only in Avalon."

List of Preferred Dining Companions

Small town life is magnified on an island. Certainly concerning relationships. There are no "out of the way" spots with which to conduct your "personal affairs," if you're having them. There is an extremely limited inventory of available mates, and certainly no chance for delusion regarding their "potential", which is freely demonstrated for all to witness, and discussed at length, whether truth or rumored. I know this from making favorable comments about a seemingly single male to a single girlfriend and was filled to the brim with his unfortunate history, which was certainly not evident through casual social interaction with him.

We're all neighbors in close quarters after all, so if you've ever had an unreasonable (possibly drunken) argument with any volume to it, it's part of your history as a mate, and the anecdote travels with you. By the time you "hook up" with someone, it's already "buyer beware" due to your (or your neighbors') intimate knowledge, either of you, your new mate, or both.

New chemistry derails logical thinking (thank heavens), so you do get the illusion of a fresh start, but it's most likely with well-worn goods. It's not that this isn't the case with mainland relationships, it's just that there are fewer available witnesses.

The saying on the island is "You don't lose your woman, you lose your turn." When I was first enlightened to this philosophy, I physically recoiled. I did a double take with eyebrows raised, fully realizing that sayings like that evolve out of truth. They're invented with the intention of normalizing a situation.

So, when we arrived (already having been a couple for six years) we had a "mainland relationship" reality. One luxury of that, is that unless you have children, if and when you break up with your mate, you simply don't run into them again, or if so, it's infrequent.

The island has one small grocery store and an imposter store (a smaller version using the same name) posing as a second option. There's no mail delivery either, so as you breeze in to pick up mail from your PO Box, or drop in for a few essentials at the market, you are guaranteed a daily dose of your ex-mate and/or reports of their current shenanigans. Whether through a personal sighting or a "helpfully communicated" anecdote by concerned parties, you'll definitely know more than you'd like. It's also uncomfortable to witness those heartbroken singles who've lost their love (and you know about it because everyone knows about it) running into them again and again with the "replacement" partner gloating openly.

My husband and I have a relationship based on trust and respect. It's a very atypical marriage, in that we subscribe to the "two-house" method. This arrangement evolved for reasons I will go into someday (the first being his Aspergers', but also that the GM EV1 electric car burned our house down and he got another EV1 right away, but I digress). The point is that I am still very connected to my life on the mainland, so when I'm off the island and my husband is on the island (he seldom leaves), I encourage and expect him to enjoy a meal here and there with friends and acquaintances.

He's a terribly picky eater and a super-slim guy with no fat reserves. He truly needs to eat. He often forgets to eat, or confuses the sensation of hunger with other issues. Is he lonely? Bored? Needing a walk? What?

In this small community, if the wife is off the island and the husband is dining with female(s) who are decidely "not the wife," it stirs up the curiosity and whispers of those who concern themselves with such things. So, we have a network of "preferred" dinner companions...friends who know that he could probably use a meal and know that he'd be happy to treat them to one.

The potential for small town rumors disturbs my husband, so I suggested posting an ad in the local newspaper, letting one and all know that we are in agreement with the arrangement, and include the names and/or photos of the most likely dinner companions. If you're not on the list, but are interested in becoming a PDC (preferred dining companion), you can call or email your qualifications and interest. Of course, if you notice he's dining with someone not on the accepted list, there will be a number to call to report it, in the same way that trucks have that bumper sticker to encourage responsible driving. He'll wear a t-shirt that says, "Where's he dining? Call 1-800-ISawHim."

Mainland Transplants

In denial since 2004 (when I made my first trip to the island), I've now come to realize that our future here is likely permanent. Fantasies of moving to a desert (or tropical) island aside, there are realities associated with such fantasies that are rich and rare and often inconvenient.

In all fairness, since our arrival in 2004 until only very recently, the island has always meant unpleasant administrative-type work (and lots of it) to me. Also the nature of our involvement with people seemed invasive or intrusive to me (though not at all to my husband). That's not the best way to get introduced to the island's rare beauty and unique lifestyle.

We were immersed in the cultural anomalies before we ever got a chance to assimilate in an orderly fashion (which is a post for another day). Add to that, all of our deficiencies that have kept us from enjoying the island's incredible offerings. We're not boaters, we don't fish, play golf, attend church, drink much alcohol, have a business, go mountain biking, run marathons, surf, kayak or camp out (at least not since we've been here, but after taking that inventory, it's got me wondering what's left, and what exactly do we do?).

Then there's the reality of "belonging." I moved to Laguna Beach, a town of about 25,000 residents, in 1992. It became clear that you weren't considered a "local" until you could relate to about 20 years of history living there. Because I participated in the local art festival right away, I was on a bit of a fast track, enjoyed acceptance and made friends easily in the artist community. Even so, I still understood and respected that I hadn't paid enough dues to be dubbed a local.

In the town of Avalon, with an estimated 3,500 residents, it seems you are considered FOB (fresh off the boat) for at least 20 years, according to some. Scott and I are very "closely held" in general due to his Aspergers' and should really be considered "feral kitties" anyway. But when you ask someone how long they've lived on the island, the answer is likely, "no more than anybody else, around 50 years." Game over...I was 50 when I got here.

At any rate, I found a passage in a book that sums up my personal experience as an Avalon "transient." John McPhee, author of The Crofter and the Laird, describes life on the island of Colonsay as a temporary member of its society. I replaced the town name of Colonsay with Avalon, and for me, the quote still seems to fit quite nicely:

"...(Avalon) is less like a small town than like a large lifeboat. By a scale of things that begins with cities and runs to hamlets, the island is some distance off the end. The usual frictions, gossip, and intense social espionage that characterize life in a small town are so grandly magnified on an island that they sometimes appear in surprising form, in the way that patches of skin magnified a hundred diameters may appear to be landscapes of the moon. Air and water, sea and sky, life is imploded upon the people here by the blue bottle that surrounds them. Everyone is many things to everyone else, and is encountered daily in a dozen guises. Enmeshed together, the people of the island become one another."

As much as I appreciate that quote, I have another that I love, written by Philip Wrigley Jr., specifically about Avalon. I memorized the quote, since it was written in a letter to a family friend. I had the opportunity to read it, and discussed it with the friend, who wished to keep it private until his death. Since he's now gone, I'll share it here, with the few who are possibly reading this. If you know the island at all, you know that the Wrigley family has a rich legacy on the island dating back to the 1920s, that continues to this day. I have great respect for their vision and intentions for the island, even though the battle goes on between the "Powers that Be" (Wrigley entities), the community in general and those that consider themselves "Island Royalty."

At any rate, on December 4th, 1975, on his official letterhead, he wrote, "Your big basket of lobsters arrived just the day before Thanksgiving, and it gave us all a chance to be thankful for having a friend like (you), who has been true, loyal and honest. This is more than I can say for most everybody else in Avalon, a small town with small ideas, cliques of various factions, petty jealousies and political intrigue..."

Phillip Wrigley Jr. loved the island, enjoyed its beauty and accepted its realities...I have learned...am learning...to do the same...