bchat's PhotoBlog

Eli's Coming!

2008-07-26T17:24:15Z

Ceil and Bertram proudly announce the birth of our grandson! Eli Jacob Brown Born July 8, 2008 at eight fifty-one in the evening At Saint Joseph's Hospital, Stockton California Four pounds eleven ounces @ seventeen and a half inches Congratulations to the pround parents, Willow and Aaron! Grandparents bestow upon their grandchildren The strength and wisdom that time and experience have given them. Grandchildren bless their grandparents with a youthful vitality and innocence That help them stay young at heart forever. Together they create a chain of love linking the past with the future. The chain may lengthen, but it will never part.....

Beach Boardwalk Carousel

2008-07-13T10:23:04Z

For us Northern California kids in the sixties, summer meant going to the beach. Which beach? The Santa Cruz beach, of course! My parents took me as a child and my scout troop had an annual beach camping trip at Santa Cruz. I hitchhiked there as a teen and when I was in college, I drove my orange ‘62 Ford Fairlane convertible full of friends to Santa Cruz. When my daughter was a little girl, we took her to Santa Cruz every year on her birthday. Back then, Santa Cruz had it all. Beautiful beaches, pretty California girls (tho I eventually married a mid-west farmer’s daughter!), great waves for body surfing and cool hippies. And to top it off, there's the world famous Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk. LOVED that boardwalk! Among its many delights are two standouts – the Giant Dipper (at 80 years old, it’s the 6th oldest roller coaster in the US) and the magnificent Looff Carousel. This is a world-class carousel. Everything about it is amazing – the horses, the music, the ring toss… You know about the ring toss, right? No? Here’s how it works – you don’t just go round and round and round on a shiny horse. On each revolution, you reach out and try to grab a brass ring from the dispenser. Then, within the next fraction of a second, you try to throw it into the clown’s mouth. If you do, lights flash and sirens wail! Sounds simple? It’s so not. In the summer of ‘69 when I was 14, I hit the clown's mouth 5 times in a row! For this astonishing feat of bravery and coordination, I was rewarded with a big stuffed St. Bernard, a free carousel ride, and a kiss on the cheek from a Marcia Brady look-a-like. Swear! I didn’t wash my face for a week! So, on my recent trip down to visit friends at Camp Kennolyn in Soquel, I had to stop and say “hi” to my favorite ride in the whole wide world.

Aztec Dance Ritual

2008-07-07T19:09:07Z

“We wish to share our Aztec tradition and friendship with all who desire to become acquainted with and respect it, seeking to make universal our knowledge as a contribution to the culture of the earth." ~ Danza Azteca Cuauhtonal The dance ritual, or "Mi’totiliztli", is one of the most basic representations of the artistic and cultural spirit of the Aztec people of Mesoamerica. The dancers are clothed in elaborate traditional outfits made of colorful embroidered cloth and animal skins, often adorned with polished stones or mirrors and accessories made of shells and seed pods. Most impressive are the headdresses, or “penachos”, made of feathers of pheasants, eagles or other birds, which in movement provide a mesmerizing effect to the movements of the dance. Seed pods and metal bells are worn around the ankles of the dancers and serve both as instruments, sounding with every step of their dance, and as visual adornment. Event: 31st Annual Three Rivers Lodge Pow Wow – Manteca, California

Wind and the Sun

2008-07-03T06:07:39Z

Wind and the Sun ~ an Aesop fable One day long, long ago, the wind and the sun were in dispute. The Wind boasted of great strength. The Sun argued that there was great power in gentleness. "We must have a contest," bellowed the Wind. Far below, a man traveled a winding road. He was wearing a warm winter coat. "Very well," said the Sun. "As a test of strength, let us see which of us can take the coat off of that man." "It will be quite simple for me to force him to remove his coat," bragged the Wind. The Wind blew so hard, the birds clung to the trees. Kites fluttered wildly! Windmills spun furiously! But the harder the wind blew, the tighter the shivering man clung to his coat. Then, the Sun came out from behind a cloud. Sun warmed the air and the frosty ground. The man on the road unbuttoned his coat. The sun grew slowly brighter and brighter. Soon the man felt so hot, he took off his coat and sat down in a shady spot. "How did you do that?" asked the Wind in amazement. "It was easy," said the Sun, "I simply lit the day. And through gentleness I got my way." Event: 8th Annual Kite Day at Pacheco State Park, California

Mexican Rodeo

2008-06-25T06:16:02Z

¡Hola! Welcome to the “charreada” at the San Joaquin Fairgrounds. This is Mexican rodeo and it is very popular here in central California. Not that many English-only amigos know of it, because it’s presented entirely in Spanish! So, I’m very lucky to bump into Dana, a reporter friend who’s covering the event for our local paper. His Spanish is way better than my Spanglish and he’s cool about telling me what is going on. He says that we’re seeing the Jineto de Toro - the bull riding event. Compared to regular rodeo, the bulls are a little smaller and they’re ridden until they stop bucking - no getting off after 8 seconds! Two hands can be used on the bullrope, but right now we’re seeing no hands! To win, the charro (rider) cannot fall off, he must dismount and land upright. Believe me, this is not easy, maybe bordering on crazy! This looks like a very dangerous sport. An ambulance is parked nearby, just in case. Those hooves can do damage. Those horns are sharp. But the charros make it look easy – like a crazy dance with the bull. And during this charreada, no one got hurt. I mean seriously hurt. I'm sure those charros are going home with bruises in some VERY sensitive places. Ouch! As for the entertainment value, I probably won't be getting season tickets. But it was a fascinating cultural experience. And the crowd loved every second of it! Don’t have to be Mexican to appreciate macho cool! ¡Él es muy machista! "Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction." ~ Rodeo Wisdom

Reflections on the Wall

2008-06-17T04:32:20Z

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial honors the men and women who served in the Vietnam War. Its main monument, known as 'The Wall' is the most visited memorial in Washington, DC. "The Moving Wall" is a half-size replica of the Washington, DC Vietnam Veterans Memorial and has been touring the country for more than twenty years. It came to my town the week after Memorial Day, for a 5-day exhibition. The names of the 58,202 men and women killed in Vietnam are listed on 150 panels, each 3 inches thick, 40 inches wide, and vary in height from 18 inches to 10 feet 9 inches. I was there to support Larry, a Vietnam veteran, a Purple Heart recipient, a veteran’s rights activist, a Yosemite National Park firefighter. And one of my best friends. The Wall stands as a testament to the Americans who gave their lives fighting in the name of their country. It's unique and controversial form serves as a reminder of the division felt between those who supported America’s involvement, and those who did not. Larry’s also a “wallie”. When he’s at the Wall (either the real one in DC or one of the moving walls), his job is to help visitors find names, place their tokens of remembrance or just have a shoulder to cry on. During the 1982 Vietnam Veterans Memorial Dedication it took a 56-hour vigil to read every name on the Wall. I’ve visited the Wall in DC several times. It’s always a very powerful, very emotional and usually tearful experience. I know people on the wall. I wore a POW/MIA bracelet for many years – Captain William O. Fuller was my lost soldier. A Congressional Medal of Honor winner who had volunteered to read the names at the 1982 dedication lasted 5 minutes before he broke down. He read the rest of the names on his knees. Though the Moving Wall was half-size, the crowd was full-size. And the emotional response to this replica? Genuine. Heartfelt. There are still lots of open wounds from that war. It’s an amazing monument. And an amazing replica of a monument. We shall be remembered, we few, we happy few, we band of brothers. For he today who sheds his blood with me, shall be my brother.

Up, Up and Away!

2008-06-11T05:58:48Z

Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon Would you like to glide in my beautiful balloon We could float among the stars together, you and I For we can fly, we can fly Up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloon… It's a crystal clear early morning at the hot air balloon launch, which kicks off the 38th Annual Apricot Fiesta in Patterson, California. Being the big baby boomer that I am, it's impossible to be here without thinking of the Fifth Dimension. The world's a nicer place in my beautiful balloon It wears a nicer face in my beautiful balloon We can sing a song and sail along the silver sky For we can fly, we can fly Up, up and away in my beautiful, my beautiful balloon… Click to enjoy the Fifth Dimension singing Up, Up and Away in some very groovy outfits!

A Teacher for All Seasons

2008-06-05T17:47:41Z

A number of my former students have become teachers - I am so proud of them! One is Benwar Shepard, the band teacher at Edison High School in Stockton, California. He is a talented musician and an extraordinary teacher. Here he is directing the final band performance of the school year. Yeah, it's an after-school activity and he's not on the clock. Volunteering. Non-paid. His reward is seeing his students perform for their families and friends. Priceless! On behalf of Benwar and teachers everywhere, they need our help and support. Please, do something nice for a teacher - their students will benefit. Our communities will benefit. The world will benefit. A teacher is like Spring, Who nurtures new green sprouts, Encourages and leads them, Whenever they have doubts. A teacher is like Summer, Who's sunny temperament Makes studying a pleasure, Preventing discontent. A teacher is like Fall, With methods crisp and clear, Lessons of bright colors And a happy atmosphere. A teacher is like Winter, While it’s snowing hard outside, Keeping our children comfortable, As a warm and helpful guide. Teacher, you do all these things, With a pleasant attitude; You’re a teacher for all seasons, And you have our gratitude!

Field of Flags

2008-05-29T06:15:52Z

The Memorial Day Service at Cherokee Park in Lodi, California. Field of Flags 4,374 flags displayed in memory of soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan as part of Operations Iraqi Freedom and Enduring Freedom. This is an annual project of the Stockton Marine Corps Club. Avenue of Flags 968 large flags on display representing veterans of our country’s military services. All of the flags were either draped over caskets of veterans or were flown over our nation’s capitol in Washington, D.C. Gravesite Flags 6,082 small flags marking veterans’ burial sites. "To save your world you asked this man to die; Would this man, could he see you now, ask why?" ~ W. H. Auden

Flags of Our Fathers

2008-05-27T20:24:44Z

My father died last year. He wasn’t a good father. See, he divorced my mother when I was a teenager. Then he divorced the rest of us a year later. He left the state and we never saw him again. I phoned him a few times over the years, but that’s not the same. Good dads don’t disappear. But I loved him nonetheless. My sister called the sibs with the news of his death. She found out by doing an internet search. Yep, Google informed us that my father died somewhere in Oklahoma. She emailed us the obit. He got a military funeral. Not a good dad, but he was a good soldier. He was a career soldier with 22 plus years in the US Army. A Master Sergeant. As long as I knew him, people called him “Sarge”. We grew up on military bases in Japan, Texas, Missouri and Alaska. For a black family in the 1960’s, this gave us a life unreachable for most of the African-American community. We had all the creature comforts of middle-class American life - safe neighborhoods, good schools, social opportunities. Just as important, I think, my father was treated with respect in this world. In the nineteen-sixties, there weren’t too many places a black (back then “negro”) man could succeed in mainstream (read white) America. Entertainment, sports, maybe. But in the military, he wasn’t judged by his color, he was respected for his rank and accomplishments. He was a Master Sergeant and Sergeants run the Army. They are treated with the highest respect, by grunts and officers alike. He earned their respect - he was a good soldier. My father gave us a life that allowed all seven of us kids to have relatively safe childhoods, get good educations, and travel the world. Most blacks didn’t have these benefits back then. The Army gave us that. My dad gave us that. He was a good soldier. If a father’s goal is to have his children do better than he did, I guess he achieved that. Us kids are mostly OK. Had he stuck around, I’m sure he would have been proud. I went to a cemetery yesterday, Memorial Day, to honor my father. The soldier. Goodbye, Sarge. Dad. Faith of our fathers, we will love Both friend and foe in all our strife; And preach Thee, too, as love knows how By kindly words and virtuous life. ~ Frederick William Faber