I think of this as, ‘Which of these restaurants would I like to go to right now?’
Like movies, books, and music for me, my favorite restaurant has a weight attached to it. Company is that weight. Time and place. Who was with me, and where did I live on the water slide of my existence.
A second question comes up. Which of these places remain in existence?
The top five, counting up to number one.
5. Yes, it’s a cafe. Coffee shop, actually. La-di-da. Half Moon Bay, California. Terrific Mexican mochas and good vibe. Ten minute Saturday or Sunday morning walk from my house. Another ten minute walk west to the Pacific ocean. A thirty minutes or so drive back into the insanity of Silicon Valley. It’s gone, baby, sold and sold again.
4. Seaside. Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, Japan. Wonderful place for a long afternoon lunch when the time for a break came. Overlooked the East China Sea. Still there, according to Kadena’s website.
3. Chanello’s Pizza. Hugh square cheese-laden, toppings-heavy crispy thing. We used to order it when we lived on Randolph AFB, Texas, in the late 1970s. Just outside of Universal City. A short drive from San Antonio. Cousins would come over and we would chow down.
2. Laughing Planet in Eugene, Oregon. Such awesome burritos. We’re fans of burritos but this place knocks us out. My wife and I sometimes play a game: which places would we like to have in our town? This place consistently arrives on our list.
1 – The Green Salmon Cafe in Yachats. We enjoy their vegan, gluten-free pastries and breakfast sandwiches. It’s another place we’d like to have here in our town.
Honorable mentions: Ruby’s, here in Ashland, Oregon. Awesome burritos, sandwiches, and burgers. Garden Fresh Chinese Restaurant in Mountain View, California. They used plant-based meat way back in the 1990s. Chevy’s Tex-Mex in Foster City, California. You know, I think we’re pretty partial to Mexican food. DeNunzio’s Italian Trattoria in Monroeville, PA. Great food, wonderful staff.
They’re all favorites. I wouldn’t mind hitting all of them just one more time.
Greetings from snowy Ashland. It’s Wenzda, February 5, 2025. Our first snowstorm of 2025 came in, kicked our asses, stamped its feet, and moved on.
The entire time that it snowed, there was no wind. The snow fell straight down. The temperatures hung between 31 and 33 degrees. When the snow ceased late yesterday afternoon, the light shifted. Rosy hues colored the snow. Probably sunset from behind clouds, I speculated. Then, it all went gray.
Next, the temperature, released from its obligation to remain at freezing while the snow fell, shed nine degrees in three hours. Clouds now sail through blue skies and sunshine. Trees and utility lines are shedding large clumps of melting snow. It’s up to 29 degrees F. A high of 38 F is possible, ‘they’ tell us. When all the snow stopped falling, my yard was buried under 14 inches.
Watching all that snow falling yesterday, my wife summarized the day well for us: “I guess it’s good to be retired and not need to go anywhere.”
Yes, good thing, because the storm dropped a ton of chaos on our little town. White stuff falling from the sky really confused people’s sensibilities. Didn’t help that the city on which we depend on services seemed really confused by what was happening. Or maybe it was people out sick, miscommunications, or people overcome with two much going on. Roads weren’t getting plowed — no, some roads were getting plowed. Several roads were plowed over and over while other roads, particularly on the newer south end of town, didn’t see plows at all. For the record, our road was just plowed for the first time. It’s not a major matter, as it’s not that long and only has about forty houses on it.
FB photo of I-5 in the valley not far from Ashland. If you zoom in on the road, you’ll see what looks like a train. Those are actually semis stopped in traffic because the Interstate is closed.
Other factors threw complications into the mix. Trees and branches found new resting places on the ground. So did power lines. People who lived on hills parked down where the roads were flat and walked home. Snow convinced some folks to just stop their cars where they were and walk away.
Without much local media, we were at a disadvantage. The city did nothing to bridge that gap. We have an emergency text message system but that wasn’t engaged much, other to say, “It’s snowing. Stay home.” Our best tool turned out to be Facebook. Friends in three other parts of town reported their situation. Between the four of us, we could compare notes and track developments.
One thing that puzzled my household as we surveyed activities from our window: why were so many people out in light jackets without hats and gloves?
But it’s over. Lessons learned? Probably not.
Our snowstorm stirred memories of another snowstorm. This one was in 1978. I’d just returned from a tour of duty in the Philippines. My wife was living with her family in WV while I was overseas. Now, with me back in the U.S., we bought a car and were driving to a new duty location by San Antonio, Texas. A huge blizzard struck. We made the decision to get the hell out of there and drove several hundred miles through blinding snow.
Thinking back on that time, I looked through a pop list, remembering songs. I’d been overseas. This was pre-Internet, pre-satellite TV, etc. When I returned to the U.S., I felt a deep disconnection with the nation. Looking at a list of songs from that time, I saw “Follow You Follow Me”. I know the song but there’s no memories connected to it, much like a lot of music I know from that period. It’s just there, floating in my mind, unmoored to anything.
One good thing emerging from the two snow days for us is that we used the time to clean the oven and pantry. My wife was the major mover on the pantry, emptying it, tossing outdated stuff, wiping the shelves. I only helped with the reorg and handing things to her.
The bad thing about the snow days is that she kept getting sucked into the bad news cycle. Infuriating to watch the checks and balances disintegrating in the face of GOP complicity.
Coffee and I have ran into each other in the kitchen, so we sat and had a cup to talk about the day. Hope you enjoy a good one. Cheers
Sunshine is booming here in Ashlandia on January 23, 2025. It’s 46 degrees F. ‘They’ say that it feels like 51 F and that 52 F is possible, which, when it arrives, might feel like 55 or even 56! The big question pulsing through our small town is, will we see any snow this year? Smart money says it’s not happenin’ in January. Although people got a little titallated when a NextDoor poster shared news that’d spotted a snowflake the other day. I think she meant that in a meteorological sense and not the political sense.
Today’s theme music is dedicated to all those Trump voters and supporters out there. The ones so sure that the felon stands for law and order who he’s overruling juries and the judicial system and releasing killers and other criminals. This is for the Blacks who voted for the PINO who is rolling back civil rights. I’m sure those Black voters who didn’t like Kamala Harris because <fill it in> and instead voted for Trump are happy about that, right? As are those immigrants, illegal and otherwise, who will be affected by his campaign to turn America white. Those people who voted for Trump who love the outdoors and get out there to enjoy the fresh air might be sorely surprised as Trump’s deregulations darken the air with pollutants. This song is for them, too, cuz they probably won’t be going out there much any longer.
Yes, this song is dedicated to all the rights that will be gone in the name of freedom, all the religions which will suffer in the name of religion, all the justice that will flounder in the name of justice, and all the poor who will grow poorer in the name of, um, also freedom, the freedom of capitalism and greed unchecked. This song is dedicated also to logic and critical thinking, which are being tossed aside, and the history and heritage being trampled underfoot. This song is dedicated to opportunity which manifest from being educated in a good public school system. These things are all being undermined by Trump and his wealthy reactionary rogues as they pursue the enshittification of the United States.
Here, dedicated to all these things and more, courtesy of The Neurons, live from my morning mental music stream, is the late Dolores O’Riordan and the Cranberries with “When You’re Gone”.
Coffee and I have again worked out a balance, and the fluid is going in without interruption. Hope you enjoy the video and that you have a strong day in your personal life, wherever you may be. Cheers
We’ve punched into Sa’day, 12/14/24. The line for Ashlandia’s day is 41/46/36, meaning current-high-low. But my system’s reading informs me it’s 39 in our cut of existence. Rain is falling. It commenced yesterday and didn’t let up. Hungry gray clouds have descended, eating off the mountain and tree tops like a parent going after their kids’ holiday chocolate.
Wising up to the weather, Papi is demonstrating a willingness to be flexible about going in and out, doing less of that, opting into remaining in warm, dry shelter, i.e., le house. Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) shows little interest in answering the question, “What’s the weather like out there?” He’s more inclined toward floofosphical questions like, “What’s in that bowl? What are you eating? Can I have some? Why aren’t you giving me any?” He asks these questions with bright-eyed optimism and rapt adoration. You know how it usually ends.
Went to a gospel holiday concert last night. Ashlandia’s Rogue Valley Symphony collaborated with with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival to put on a concert at the Bowmar Theater. The Florida State University Gospel Choir and their three-piece travelin’ combo — bass, drums, keyboards — were invited in, along with a soloist named Marques Jerrell Ruff. By happenstance, I ended up seated by the night’s sponsor, the guy who gave them the upfront funds to make this happen. He’s done a lot of good philanthropy work in our small town. For instance, if you ever visit Ashlanda and visit the plaza, you can check out the mural of our sister city that he and his wife commissioned. It was pleasant chatting with him about his good deeds and some mutual friends we admire.
Portion of the Guanajuato mural in Ashland, Oregon.
The concert was uplifting and fun. I definitely recommend it. Mr. Ruff and the FSU Choir are amazing singers and awesome entertainers.
It’s been a busy week and it ain’t over. Tonight is the annual Swedish Smörgåsbord at a friend’s house. Tomorrow is the Santa Claus brunch at Callahan’s on Mount Ashland. My ankle is handling most of this well, although I do reach a point toward the end where I’m ready to rip off my shoe and sock and elevate that puppy. Haven’t done that yet, despite the temptation, principally because my wife would kill me if I did.
Jill Dennison inspired The Neurons for today’s music choice. Jill is a prolific, intelligent, and insightful blogger. I admire her thinking and principles, and we frequently exchange comments. She apologized for her mood in one recent post. The Neurons responded by placing Nirvana singing “All Apologies” from 1993 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark buried). So, here’s to you, Jill.
I met coffee on a blind date in the kitchen this morning. Now I’m singing its praises. Hope your day is as excellent as circumstances allow. Here’s the music. Cheers
“With a People for Bikes rating of 70 out of 100, League of American Bicyclists gold status and 86 trails dedicated to bikes, Ashland was ranked no. 5 of the top 10 bike cities across the country. A ranking such as this has the potential to bring in more tourists.” h/t Ashland.news
It mildly astonished most of us who live here, but the next news was miiinnnd blowing. Architectural Digest announced its list of “The 13 Most Beautiful Underrated Cities in the World” in the middle of this month. Yes, following the limp foreshadowing, Ashland, Oregon, is included on the list.
Ashland, Oregon
Part of the 2018 edition of The New York Times’ “52 Places to Travel,” Ashland is located in the Rogue River area of Southern Oregon. Like much of the Pacific Northwest, the region is celebrated for its natural beauty, which includes Lithia Park and North Mountain Park defined by leafy vegetation and beautiful waterways. Home to Southern Oregon University, the college town is also know for the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, a local repertory theater that offers a myriad of performances not limited to just The Bard.
Those two pieces are enough to send other places into extreme city envy. But wait, there’s more!
America’s Coziest College Town Is In Oregon
Yes, TheTravel.com also announced this month, September, 2024, that Ashlandia is the United States’s coziest college town.
It’s funny to see that written about our town. Hate badmouthing it…buuuutttt…
Our numbers of bookstores and coffee shops have fallen and fallen. We used to have over a dozen coffee shops, along with several excellent bakeries. Those have closed, replaced by vintage stores and retail businesses. Sure, we still have four bookstores but it’s a fall from the half dozen at our disposal in the last decade.
I suspect a PR firm was given some cash to go out and get us on these lists.
I guess we should be proud of our town but I can’t forget when it seemed like a better place.
Another grand opening has commenced in Ashlandia. A food truck and picnic table are in the parking lot. Couple chairs. Band is setting up under a white canopy on one side of the small lot. Merchandise has been pulled from the store and is displayed on racks and tables. Vintage clothing. Looks like a good turnout.
Third business in that location since I lived here, which is nineteen years. Once upon a time, that place was a bakery called Four and Twenty Blackbirds. Place to go for pies, cookies, breads, turnovers…well, bakery stuff.
Beside it was a small Italian restaurant. Wiley’s World. Excellent food. It’s now a plant store. Across the street used to be a bank but is now a Starbucks. A coffee shop, updated and modern, replaced the old, beloved coffee shop on the corner that went out of business almost ten years ago when the building’s owners upped the rent. And on the other corner was a bowling alley that is now a small strip shopping center that seems to stay half empty.
Then again, I used to walk to this corner to the coffee shop. Just about a mile, every day. When the coffee shop went away, I had to walk further and further till it reached the point that I was consuming too much of my writing day to reach my writing destination and go back home. Then COVID hit and everything shuttered and there was little walking to anywhere.
“The more things change, the more they stay the same” is the expression. The flux of business and life, revealed in the shifting landscape.
I’m walking around on a writing break. The right side of my sinuses are unhappy. A little clear fluid from my nostril keeps me dabbing it. There’s pain in the sinus.
I’m considering the views as I walk. Sheer curtains of off-color air are being lowered over the brown mountains across the valley on the north and the tall, green-filled southern mountains.
Back at my computer, I blow my nose and check Purpleair. Yes, we’ve gone from ‘good’ numbers into the triple digit territory of ‘bad air that’s unkind to sensitive people.’ I paraphrase.
Depressing. We’d been on a such a good run. What’s causing this new issue? There’s a smell out there assaulting me.
I read that an air quality warning was issued just before 11 AM. We’re already under a high heat warning.
The day is turning a corner and going in an ugly direction.
Today is Saturday, August 24, 2024. It’s a chilly 54 F this morning. I turn on the fireplace and open the blinds. Light rain peppers the greenery with some needed moisture. Sunshine emerges and steam begins rising. Today’s high will be an un-summery 70 F.
We’re back in Ashlandia, where the worries are palpable and the angst is regular. A second well-established restaurant is shutting down after years of business. This is a trend we don’t like.
Ashlandia is dependent on tourism. Drought, pandemic, fires, smoke, and economics have all tested our tourism. Each have contributed to a point where the ‘you are here’ dot is tiny and prickly. We’re home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It’s our major industry, abetting revenue brought in by being an outdoor adventure location for fishing, rafting, and skiing (Mt. Ashland) and what Southern Oregon University contributes. Under the impact of those big five factors of pandemic, etc., we’ve been in a slow downward spiral.
We’d already lost the seasonal business called the Water Street Cafe. It’d been a longtime draw but the owner passed and the survivors couldn’t make it work. It’s now a crepe place, and we have high hopes for that.
Last week, the Black Sheep Restaurant announced they’re shutting down. Now Cucina Biazzi is closing. We’re already lost many book stores like the Book Wagon, and coffee shops like The Beanery and Cafe Boulevard. In their place, we’re gaining used clothing stores, marijuana dispenseries, and tattoo parlors. This are not major draws when every other town is offering more of the same.
Being back home, I miss stepping out of the Waldport vacation house and into the seaside environment. I enjoyed going out there each morning and tasting the breeze, studying the tides’ levels, and gathering in sunshine and clouds. I do the same thing here, but it’s not the same with the ocean missing.
I begin another theme for the coming week today. The theme now is songs with time in their titles. Lots come to mind. The time theme came out of being stuck in traffic yesterday as an accident was cleared away. The first song offering from The Neurons is “Time Won’t Let Me” by The Outsiders from 1965. The fast-paced rocking roller is filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed) like I was back in a neighbor’s Wilkinsburg basement listening to it on a 45 record. Actually, I think my memories have better fidelity than that little record player in use. I would’ve been about ten at that time.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has made itself comfortable in me. Time for the music. Cheers
Two lanes in each direction with a turning lane, Ashland Street is one of our little city’s busiest main streets. Besides connecting to the southern Interstate exit and entrance, it’s home to four shopping centers, a fire station, college dormitories, five gas stations, a Starbucks and another coffee shop, along with several other businesses, motels, and restaurants. Connecting to our main drag, Siskiyou Boulevard, which leads to downtown, Ashland Stret is divided by median stripes and cement dividers in numerous places.
The city has added white stanchions alongside the bicycle lanes on Ashland Street. Some call them bike lane delineators. A couple inches in diameter, they’re tubes which stand 36 inches high and help separate the bike lanes from motor vehicle lanes, making it safer for bike riders.
Questions have arisen from the people. Like, how are cars supposed to pull over to the curb to let emergency vehicles pass? Second question that everyone wonders is, how will the street sweeper handle the stanchions? There’s no clearcut answer for that, they say. As for pulling over for emergency vehicles, people insist that they can’t.
Except: I noticed that these stanchions or delineators are spring mounted. They bend over. I believe cars and street sweepers can go right over them. The question is, will drivers do that?
You know how it is with change. Some have a harder time with it.
The air has cleared for us again. Looking at the models of wind currents, the swirling brings us some smoke from the north, like the Diamond Lake complex. Then the wind shifts and the smoke travels up along the mountain valleys from California’s monstrous Parks fire by Chico. A new wind change, and we have a reprieve for a while, like today, well, like now. Because those shifts can come with the suddenless of a cat snapping its paw out.
It will get hot today. Although it’s just 73 F now, we expect the digits to stop climbing at 99 F. Yesterday was supposed to see 104 F but I’m not certain we got that high at my house. That’s because we did a shopping run down the highway in Medford.
Breakfast bore the fruits of that shopping. A bagel was consumed alongside a fresh juicy, sweet peach, wonderfully plump, ripe cherries, and fat, flavorful blueberries.
It’s First Friday in Ashlandia. The art galleries will be flinging their doors open. Like coffee shops, book stores, and bakeries, we don’t have as many art galleries as we used to. The number of places that fell into the categories of that quartet — coffee shops, book stores, bakeries, and art galleries — was a big pull to Ashlandia for us. As those places fell away, replaced by fancy restaurants and ‘vintage’ clothing stores, and odd things like lavendar shops, the town lost its shine in our eyes. This is life, right?
Manwhile, friends have a project up, 1000museums at one of the art galleries today, so we’ll be pointing our feet to it and then progressing left right left right (cue Homer Simpson and Randy Newman) until we’re there.
Oh and we’re going blackberry picking at a friend’s place tomorrow morning.
As it’s Friday, Friday music is in my head. That’s how The Neurons work. There’s a large collection of songs about Friday. Like “Friday On My Mind”, “Black Friday”, “I Gotta Feeling”, “Friday I’m in Love”, and several songs just called “Friday”. The Neurons planted Blink 182 and “What’s My Name Again” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark next week) though, so that’s the music for the day.
Hope your Friday goes well. Stay pos, be strong, leeean forward, and Vote Blue this year. Coffee and I have reached an agreement and it’s being sipped. Here’s the music. Quite elemental. Cheers