Cathy Seipp, Elizabeth Edwards, Tony Snow. My story here.

UPDATE: And David Kuo (via Sullivan).

I’ve just returned from a very nice beak in Oregon which is rapidly becoming one of my favorite states. Having the grandparents over from Europe to baby-sit the children, Irene and I spent the first few days at the Kennedy Elementary School, a sort of pub, restaurant, theater and hotel complex in an old converted school in Portland. It is owned and operated by the McMenamin family who have elevated the art of eating and drinking to new levels while offering good accommodation at affordable prices, the $75-150 range. Of course, they are compensating for these relatively low prices by encouraging their guests to hang around the premises to eat and drink and with beer practically coming out of every tap you can see why it all works.

Although the concept may be geared to the below forty-without-kids crowd, we felt perfectly at home and were delighted to watch The Pursuit of Happyness – a brilliant, must-see epic – in a theater filled with comfortable couches while sipping away a very decent pinot noir and a formidable pizza.

Portland itself is a sort of Vancouver-lite, a quality Pacific Northwest enclave with quite a few things to do, but it does not warrant an overly long stay. Most of our downtown time was spent at Powell’s, apparently one of America’s largest bookstores and we consequently walked out with a stack that will keep us busy until well after Christmas.

The next stop was the coast and as we had covered the stretch between Oceanside and Florence in the past, now it was time to venture further south and Bandon was our preferred stop. The further south you travel, the quieter and less touristy it gets and in the low season that offers some great plusses like sharply reduced room rates, while on the downside it means a lack of quality restaurants that are open for the whole week or open at all. We settled on the excellent Table Rock Motel in Bandon - nice room - right above the vast beaches, extraordinary rock formations and spectacular tide changes. And to cap it all off, the sun emerged to announce the spring season.

We got as far as Gold Beach, not quite making it to the California border which was my initial plan, obsessed about covering new mileage, but instead opted for driving less and walking more. The Oregon coast is a gem and I hope that they can manage development wisely as it would be waste to see it disappear.

Oregonians are friendly and we encountered the same folksy easy going style at another McMenamin’s outlet on our way back north in Troutdale’s Edgefield Manor, east of Portland. The property used to be the Multnomah County Poor Farm and here the magic in terms of alcohol, food and entertainment has been taken to new levels as the property is littered with bars and opportunities to eat, vegetables coming straight out of Edgefield’s own vegetable garden in foreground of this picture:

Instead of beer we settled on sampling some of the manor’s own Edgefield-branded wines. Nothing too spectacular, a decent Cabernet though, but the Fireside port is to kill for. We spent the better part of our time reading in the sun in the yard, of course soliciting various forgettable but good-spirited comments from the eager crowds walking by on their way to St. Patrick’s Day celebration.

All in all, a nice and surprisingly sunny break.

The Garibaldi Heights, as seen from the Squamish estuary.

So, the Christmas and New Year break is pretty much over and it has been one quite different compared to previous years. For one, there was quite a bit of time devoted to work. And, probably more important, concern over my mother who on top of an intense radiation therapy had to undergo surgery right after Christmas to release her of a tumor the kind of which our family seems to have a subscription for. Only months after the death of her youngest sister that was not easy for her, but she is recovering and showing an amount of strength and determination that I find admirable.

But, we found time to celebrate Christmas with the kids and devote our time to gingerbread houses, family games, good food and some fine wines. By New Year’s Eve we were tired enough of it all to fall asleep well before the fireworks welcomed a new year, another first for us.

I enjoyed the break from the blog; it is always refreshing to keep some distance from the news and commentary and block out the need to comment for a little while. It was tempting to prematurely interrupt the break following Saddam’s execution, but I thought better of it. So, we’re sort of back to normal here, 2007, let’s get going.

Not sure if the song itself was ever intended to become a lasting Christmas classic, but the video ensured that this Frankie Goes To Hollywood hit will forever be part of the festive season.

Great song, moving video. Enjoy.

Every Christmas season consists of the usual rituals and in the Dorsman house the festive period always starts with playing Band Aid's classic 'Do They Know It's Christmas'. And every year I enjoy this great serving of 1980s nostalgia.

But it's been years since I last saw the video and to be frank, it made me even more nostalgic. To see Bono and George Michael at a time when we could not have imagined that they would turn out to be enduring musical talents capturing new generations is revealing. And it was saddening to see the late Paula Yates as a proud young mother, full of life. And yes, in a way it's equally sad that very little has been accomplished in Africa so far, things have actually deteriorated for the world's most troubled continent since 1984.

This year we've adopted a child through WorldVision as a way to contribute and help, but also to instill a sense of responsibility and awareness in our young daughters. Today they were thrilled to open the mail and find a photo of Elisa Menayame Nkembi from the Democratic Republic of Congo. This blind four year old is now being considered a part of our family and the first letters and postcard to her have already been drafted. Will it make a real difference? Maybe, I am not overly optmisitc on that front. But at the very least we can make an effort and share it with a next generation, here and in Africa.

This weekend the Dorsmans ventured out into the downtown area for some Christmas lights event, preceded by the obligatory visit to one of our favorite Chinese restaurants. The décor is rather basic to say the least, but the food is spectacular and especially the casserole of Stewed Eggplant with Minced Pork in a Spicy Chili Sauce is not to be missed during the cold winter days.

We were sitting towards the back of the restaurant and had polished off most of the plates when a terrible noise erupted at the front of the restaurant. And not just noise, some chairs were repurposed as projectiles by dodgy looking characters who for some reason had entered the restaurant. We’ve never been in a situation like this with the kids, nor were we able to really understand what was going one but our instincts worked extremely well. Like most other patrons with young ones we grabbed the kids and immediately seized up the situation, assessed the likelihood it would come close to our table and scoped a way out which in this case would have been through the kitchen out the back. The fight between the two men moved further into the restaurant, but somehow ended as soon as it had erupted and the restaurant staff managed to ease them out while alerting the police who arrived in no time. The spectacle of some Chinese chefs solving the situation with their sharpened chopping knives did not materialize which, with the kids present, was probably for the better.

It turned out that a homeless man had gotten into a debate with someone who aggressively rejected his call for spare change, attacked him and followed him into the restaurant which was probably the most immediate place for refuge. By the time the police arrived both were gone. What struck me about the incident – other than that Vancouver has quite a bit of work to do to get the streets clean for the 2010 Olympics – was that all parents reacted similarly and rapidly. The brain signals that conflict avoidance and escape are best, but it also appears to be not fast enough to assess the exact nature of the danger while offering up a worst case scenario. Knife wielding thugs making their way towards our table was the one that popped up in my mind.

Anyway, it all ended as quickly as it ended with no one hurt, but I just thought it was an interesting story. And, a useful learning experience for a six and four year old for whom the concepts of aggression and homelessness were totally alien. They confirmed they weren’t scared, but I can’t escape the feeling that they’re still deeply puzzled about the recesses of city life. And in a way, I am too.

From a week with relatively high temperatures and devastating storms we have now gone into winter wonderland.

This is our neigbourhood creek, covered in snow. The weather change apparently has quite an impact, so far we've been spared another power outage.

It took five-and-a-half days but the lights are back on. While most of the neigborhood disappeared to hotels and family, we managed to keep the spirits up and brave the cold and discomfort. And that actually was not only a useful epxerience, it was a lot of fun too.

The power outage is continuing over here, in fact it got worse this morning when another storm knocked out numerous trees and power lines. Of course, this has attracted media attention and on Fridaynight we got a visit from a local TV-crew interested in how we were making out.

They came at the right time, we had just grilled some great chicken on the BBQ, opened up an Australian Shiraz and getting ready to enjoy our dinner in front of the fireplace. The interviewer was trying hard to find bad news or some discord over our predicament, but even our children confirmed that we were doing fine when the camera lights were directed on them. I’ve not been interviewed on TV much, but it occurred to both me and Irene how hard some of these media outfits thrive on the negative rather than the positive. Only this afternoon some other journalists were in town soliciting quotes about how poorly the local power utility was doing in restoring services, but the contrary is true: they’re working around the clock to make things work again.

And yes, we were and are still doing fine; the absence of internet access is the only main irritant. We have cleaned up our fridges – a long overdue exercise – and been getting a lot of sleep. I am not sure if I remain as upbeat about this situation as the outage goes on into the new week, but I feel sort of pleased that we’re hanging in there.

We had a massive storm here yesterday with strong winds and huge amounts of rain. Power was knocked out in our neighborhood not long after I posted my Giuliani piece below, and it looks like we will be without it until at least Saturday. The streets here resembled a total wasteland, lots of trees knocked down with most of them destroying powerlines. Our house escaped most of it thankfully, but many neighbors incurred significant damage. The rescue and reconstruction effort is impressive and having witnessed the debris and disruption I can understand why we will have to be in the dark for a bit longer. So with limited power resources, blogging will be light until at least Sunday.

As it was my birthday weekend, we decided to take a short break and visit British Columbia’s Okanagan Region, an area known for its hot and dry summers and more notably, for the quality wines it produces. We stayed in the town of Osoyoos, within a few steps of the US-Canadian border. When we arrived on Friday the weather was still summerlike and we hiked up to the Nk’Mip Cellars, North America’s first Indian-owned and operated winery.

Here’s the northwestern view from Nk’Mip over Lake Osoyoos. The winery comprises a resort and desert exploration center and they make a pretty mean Riesling.

This is the southern view from Osoyoos, most of what you see is United States territory. The town is now pretty much deserted, but during the summer however it is packed with tourists since sun, as opposed to many other parts of British Columbia, is almost guaranteed here.

On Saturday we drove north and visited some of the more established wineries, most of whom have achieved international recognition for producing quality wines. As mentioned, the region is known for its warm and dry climate, yet its northern location make summers shorter than other wine regions giving Okanagan wines a very distinct taste. I am not entirely sure it is my preferred taste – California Cabernets and Australian Shiraz being my favorites – but there are some high quality whites and very good reds to be had.

Barrels wating to be filled at the Inniskillen Winery.

This is at the Hester Creek Estate Winery, the best one we visited and where we bought an award winning Pinot Blanc and an excellent Cabernet-Merlot. Prices here continue to be steep compared to the US or virtually any other jurisdiction on the planet – apart from Sweden probably – but buying at the vineyard itself can get you a nice discount on wines that are often not normally available in liquor stores. And as some of you may remember, alcohol distribution in BC remains - despite some tentative reforms - an archaic monopoly.

What’s more, the wineries have become very family oriented. Offering tours and fruit juices for the kids as well as optional lunches that you can enjoy out in the field make it a great way to spend the day. As long as the weather is good which in the Okanagan most of the times it is.

On our way back home we stocked up on pumpkins as well as a few boxes of absolutely delicious and juicy organically grown apples at the Forbidden Fruit Winery in the quiet and desert-like Similkameen Valley. The proprietors had branched out into making wine out of their fruit and after tasting a few of them we settled on a bottle of Crushed Innocence.

Driving back into the Vancouver urban area late Sunday afternoon it started to rain while temperatures dropped significantly. Summer is over, it was an unusually long one here. I am not entirely sure if it is enough to help us through the dark days of winter, but the huge supply of fruit and wines will make the first few months a lot easier.

As it was a holiday here today the Dorsman family ventured out for a hike in the Alice Lake provincial park. We were one of the very few who did so on this bright and sunny fall day and you wonder why on earth so few people take advantage of discovering such a beautiful piece of wilderness. We settled on the theory that the ratio of people to parks must be relatively low around here. Interestingly, Victor Davis Hanson had exactly the same experience in California's heartland:

“ … it struck me that it is little more than an hour away from much of Fresno County. That is, for about $25 in gas, almost any of the 1 million plus of the greater Fresno area could be here in clean air, natural beauty, and grand vistas within minutes.

But none were. For all the worry of the Sierra Club over an endangered wildness, even the areas contiguous to the lake were deserted—never mind the great emptiness in the thousands of square miles above Huntington in the higher Sierra. The problem, it seems to me, is not that there are too many hoi polloi despoiling the wilderness, but far too few enjoying it"

Judging from the line-ups near the shopping malls and fast-food outlets on our way back, that indeed seems to be the case. It's another sad reflection on our times, but it is probably good for what is left of North America's pristine wilderness.

The blog interruption this week is the result of an emergency visit back to The Netherlands to support my family back home in dealing with a tragic loss this week. However sad the circumstances, it was encouraging to experience, and contribute to, the resolve and strength that the family displayed in dealing with the loss of my aunt, my mother’s youngest sister. As most of you know, I have been away for a long time but the emotional bonds are deep and above all worthwhile preserving, no matter the distance.

Internet access is sporadic, we’re camping out at my aunt’s house and she was no fan of technology. Still, I do find time to catch up with events here in The Netherlands and later next week will probably brief you on some interesting developments. Thanks for the e-mails, links and suggestions, I read them all and will use most of them when regular updates resume.

It appears that I wasn’t the only blogger holidaying out in a Canadian red state: Roger Simon spent some time in Alberta, the Dorsman family traveled north to visit the Blackwater Spruce Ranch in central British Columbia like they did last year. And our hosts Dale and Yvonne Dunn did everything to let us enjoy horseback riding, wilderness, ranch life and their excellent cuisine which given their line of work meant lots of beef, the type which you won’t find at your average butcher. Again, if this is your kind of holiday then this is your address, probably one of the best of its kind in North America.

Given the ranch’s remote location I was put on a harsh diet of no news, no internet and lots of sleep, all of which should help contribute to a refreshing start now that the summer is drawing to an end and life will start to get back to normal. Of course, some impressions:

The stables as seen through the eyes of my four-year old daughter Maeve after getting hold of the camera. As you will see, wildlife is part of the scene here and I can attest to having encountered one moose and calf, a black bear and numerous deer. For a big city person like myself, still major news.

In the truck - me with sunglasses – on our way to Titetown lake.

Titetown Lake, civilization miles and miles away.

Irene and Pieter and their horses during a five hour trailride doing parts of the Alexander Mackenzie Heritage Trail.

Colts. Beautiful colts.

For my daughters who were overjoyed by this:

A new eagle nest near Victoria is expected to relieve the broken hearts of millions of Internet surfers who helplessly watched two eagles on Hornby Island fail in their attempt to raise a family.

An Internet connection linked to the suburban Victoria nest was expected to start broadcasting new nest images of one and perhaps two newborn eagle chicks on Monday.

You can find the webcam here. Enjoy.

No, this was not a Peaktalk hiatus, rather an extended Easter weekend with a lot of outdoor activities despite the appalling weather. The latter turned to sunshine today and my attempts to cut a few branches to improve our views turned – as always – into an extended project where a few trees did not survive to see the end of the day. It is the biting off more than you can chew syndrome the result of which is that the view hasn’t improved that much, but there is now a few weekends worth of clearing and cutting brush ahead of me. Needless to say, my wife Irene rolled her eyes in amazement and retreated to the house to do some real work. Regular blogging will resume soon.

Yes, we're diversifying into mining.

UPDATE: The Mrs. now requests a link to her new project. Here it is.

As promised, I would spend a bit more time on the Dorsman’s family holiday expedition to California. I won’t bore you with a string of photos as they would be quite similar to last year’s collection, but try my hand at a more descriptive assessment of what caught my eye.

Alternative Lifestyles
The first stop on our way south was the cute town of Ashland, Oregon, renowned for its annual Shakespeare Festival and related cultural activities. We decided to stay an extra day and explore the environment a bit; the downtown stroll is definitely worth your time with a range of interesting shops and excellent restaurants and coffee shops. Our girls were fascinated by one particular store with lots of women’s clothes or – in their minds – princess dresses. We walked in and it became apparent quite quickly that more than just fashion was on the agenda: children’s clothing, accessories and postcards allowed us some serious browsing time. While Irene and the kids spent time with pink flamingo outfits, my level of alertness was raised when in a corner I discovered a “bondage kit for beginners”. Of course, we are no longer judgmental about these things, do as you like, but I had a hard time picturing some of the Ashland residents tying each other up for fun, or is live in Southern Oregon that boring? The alarm levels however went up after inspecting the little rack of baby clothes; buying a shirt for a newborn with the words “hot babe” on it is entering the territory of the morally depraved. Time to become judgmental again, I thought.

It wasn’t like we had walked into a seedy store or anything, no, judging from the prices and the clientele we had walked into the favorite shopping haunt of Ashland’s cultured female elites. And if you think a combination of fashion, sex tools and edgy kid clothes pointed in that direction, then the check-out and gadget part of the store really nailed it. The “Bush Lied, Thousands Died” bumper stickers, the Che Guevara postcards and the fridge magnets suggesting it was time to impeach the current president completed the picture. Surely it was time to take a picture for the blog? Forget it. Ashland’s cultural elites are not that confident about their alternative way of as an ample number of in-store signs prohibited taking any pictures.

There is a brighter side to alternative lifestyles and in the same block we discovered the vegetarian Pilaf Restaurant which scooped the best restaurant award this year, miles ahead of the competition.

Hospitality
We recharged the batteries at The Chase Hotel in Palm Springs, one of the few hotels – and I have seen many – on this planet where a relaxed atmosphere, hospitality and care for the patrons are of paramount importance to the owners and the staff. The splendid and well-decorated rooms overlooking the palm lined pool and the desert mountains come at a very reasonable price and additional services such as wireless access, fruit, cookies, pool towels, even a Christmas tree in the girls’ room, all came without charge. In fact, you need to rack up a spectacular phone bill to incur any additional charges on your bill. Where do you find that these days?

The key to this is probably the fact that owner Craig and wife Kathleen do not have a background in the hotel business and run it the way they see fit, unencumbered by any corporate constraints. Together with an excellent management team they not only made our stay enjoyable, we made many new friends at the Chase which by the way was named after the owner’s dog. The one thing however that I still haven’t figured out was why on earth the hotel got a Christmas card from Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter.

Overdevelopment
Apart from the pool, the menu in the Coachella Valley centers on discovering the desert and hiking. Of course, with a five an three year old your range is limited but in both the Indian Canyons and the Joshua Tree National Park there are numerous trails ranging from easy to strenuous and from short to long. And the drives are spectacular, as soon as you’re out of the urban areas it is sparsely populated land with only the odd sign remembering you of the nearby civilization. “Take the US out of the UN”, care of the John Birch Society was one of my favorites, but the message was so obvious that I didn’t bother to stop and take a picture.

The one problem though is that the property and retirement boom is swallowing up huge chunks of the desert and although the map gives you the feeling that the Coachella Valley and the LA area are separated and somewhat distant, in reality they aren’t. And it is not just on the ground that you notice the march forward, from the higher altitudes of Joshua Tree Park you can clearly see the urban smog levels entering the valley and beyond. While I instinctively would never argue against progress and development, I do believe that Southern California needs a serious rethink of land use and apply some tighter environmental policies. And what about the sustainability of pumping increasing amounts of water from the north to the south? Schwarzenegger should look to that other conservative California Governor who in the late 1960s implemented – albeit somewhat reluctantly – the first comprehensive plans to salvage huge chunks of the state’s pristine and unique beauty.

History
If you’re into it a detour to the hamlet of Chiriaco Summit (photo above) allows you to visit the George S. Patton Memorial Museum. Several places in the world have laid claim to the general’s legacy but this slice of barren desert was indeed selected by Patton as the training grounds for US forces prior to embarking for North Africa in 1942. As a reminder, the Germans at the time were perilously close to breaking the British defenses in Egypt’s desert in which case they would have direct access to the Middle East oil fiends. The area got the following quote from Patton:

“if you can work in this country, it will be no difficulty at all to kill the assorted sons of bitches you will meet in any other country”

The irony is that these days it is the Germans - according to hotel owner Craig - who strip down to their swimming gear to get a suntan in the sweltering heat of mid-summer, an activity that most other nationalities wisely stay far away from.

Weirdness
The other thing about California that always strikes me is the high incidence of weirdos and fringe material. You find them on a number of ends of the spectrum, from the superblond, botoxed, septuagenarian retiree to the down and out drug addict sleeping on the sidewalk to the LA rejects who have somehow eked out a living in desert outposts like Boron. Again, it’s not unusual anywhere, but in California you just get more of it.

The best example was the township of Nice on Highway 20 in Northern California. We stopped in this picturesque village for the morning coffee and to take in the lake and the rolling green hills of the sparsely populated wine country. Maeve, our youngest insisted we visit the playground and after ordering our lattes we walked over, but instantly noticed the other ‘kids’ in the playground. Twentysomethings, high on drugs and by the look of it they had spent the night between the swing and the slides. Not a good idea to join them for a round of fun, but try and explain that to a three-year old. No sooner had we decided to walk back to the car or the next group of teenagers strolled by accompanied by a few muscular pit bulls. Even on my own that is something to get me highly uncomfortable, but with the family in tow it was time to get in the car and move on. The point of course is, how these big city scourges could ever have become mainstream rural phenomena?

More on this next year, as our ongoing love affair will California will hopefully see another chapter.

So I was cooking last night, preparing a free style chili-con-carne and opened up a can of tomatoes with a somewhat deficient can opener. What else can you do than suspend common sense and try and lift the half-open lid with your thumb? Well, the result was that I sliced deep into it and I instantly knew that the two band aids my five year old daughter reached for wouldn’t do the trick. But I was deeply proud of her calm resolve in the face of what was rapidly turning into a bloody mess. So, it needed a professional hand and I spent over an hour in a local clinic where a British doctor stitched the whole thing together again, all the while commenting on politics. Condi Rice was too much of a cold warrior and still fighting a war that ended years ago and the Canadian medical system was all but bankrupt. His commentary helped alleviate the pain and his expertise in stitching – going back to his doctor years in Liverpool where rival football hooligans fought one another with razor blades – helped in putting my thumb back into shape. A few pain killers to go and that was it.

There are many lessons here of course. Lids can be like razor blades so be careful. Use fresh tomatoes in any sauce or stew. Doctors know a lot about politics too. But more than anything else I was impressed by my young daughter who recognized danger and - she later admitted she was scared because of all the blood – tried to step up to the plate in a very calm fashion and help. It isn’t hard to create responsible and caring human beings. We never explicitly told her to help out in a situation like this. But she recognized it and acted. Now that’s something to be thankful for.

Yes, moving from a megalopolis to a provincial city has its challenges and if big city life runs in your blood it may take years to get used to new, clean and placid surroundings. The experience of moving from Hong Kong to Vancouver is very similar to moving from LA to Portland, and Nancy Rommelmann explains how she adjusted to the sudden change. In my case that adjustment, six years into the program, is still ongoing although I know that there are definite benefits.

(hat tip: Michael Totten who wants to make a reverse move, but has taken an intermediate step: Beirut).

That's what the weather forecast looks like. So one more view from the beach in our community where we spent so many hours this summer.

And over the past few weeks it did indeed feel like an Indian Summer, a term that found its way into my life because of that great, if not best ever, French chanson entiled l'été indien:

Tu sais, je n'ai jamais été aussi heureux que ce matin-là

Nous marchions sur une plage un peu comme celle-ci

C'était l'automne, un automne oû il faisait beau

Une saison qui n'existe que dans le Nord de l'Amérique

Là-bas on l'appelle l'été indien

It's hard to believe that a frenchman could sing so passionate a song about North America, but the Joe Dassin was born in New York.

For a good work out try this. Just came back from my first class this season (at 5:50 AM!) and I can tell you, it's painful so it must be good.

Yes, blogging forges new friendships. The Dorsman family just returned from a very pleasant break in Seattle where we were guests at the Rosenberg residence for a few days. Matt not only is able to cook up great posts at his blog (I can attest to the on-site research at the local Target for this post), he also serves up excellent meals. And we got to see parts of Seattle that we missed when we visited the place as regular tourists, with trips to Alki Beach, Madrona, Twanoh State Park and driving all the way to Burien to stock up at one of our favorite food retailers, Trader Joe’s.

Of course, much of our time together was spent discussing culture and politics and as I learned, life in one of America's most liberal cities does have its fair share of bizarre incidents. The prize this week went to one Cindi Laws, a member of the Seattle Monorail Board who countered opposition to the board's plans with some anti-Semitic remarks, arguing that the opposition campaign was largely financed by the city's Jewish community. Seattle, in the year 2005.

Posted by Pieter Dorsman at 01:24 PM | Permalink | TrackBack (0)