Left Coast Cowboys

Long time, no post. But it’s been a particularly hectic holiday season. One after the other, both dogs came down with serious vomiting and diarrhea. To the point that I was spending my days running from room to room cleaning carpets, only to have another dog sneak back in an deposit a pool of something in the middle of the just cleaned area. With houseguests coming, it was a fast and furious battle. And one I lost until the point where I had to take first one, then the other dog to the emergency vet clinic.

After every battery of tests available for dogs — and a scary initial verdict for Oscar that it was a blockage that would require abdominal surgery — the vet determined that it was gastroenteritis. I think the tip off was that both dogs had it. (After all, what are the odds that two dogs in the same family will get blockages at exactly the same time?)

The culprit? An over-used dog park. Seems all the bacteria and giardia and ickiness seeps down into the soil during our long, long dry season. Then with the first rains, it all boils up to make a completely noxious bacteria soup. Bring your dogs to play in it, and the worst is inevitable.

Moral of the story: the more dogs per square foot that use a park, the less you want to expose your dogs to it. And once it starts raining, definitely keep them out of dog parks until well into the season, when most of the crud has washed off.

At least Andy and I were able to give each other last minute special gifts: hundreds of dollars worth of emergency vet bills!

NOTE: The picture above is little Oscar at the clinic minutes before they inserted an IV and a catheter. He looks like he knows what’s coming.

If I were an old Yiddish man from Brooklyn, I’d be saying, “Oy, I know from Christmas songs.” (Or, then again, maybe I wouldn’t.) But in any case, I do know my Christmas songs. I have amassed what I believe to be one of the world’s greatest Christmas song collections. I’m calling my collection great not only in its size, but in its diversity. My point is, I’m qualified to make this list: The Greatest Christmas Songs You May Never Have Heard. In fact, I could make several lists and sublists just of Christmas songs, but this list focusses specifically on undiscovered gems. No tired retreads of “Frosty the Snowman” or that most obnoxious tune of all “Winter Wonderland”. With a few rare exceptions, these ten songs are Christmas songs you may never have heard. Or you’ve never heard them quite this way. But they’re songs you must get in your holiday collection if you are going to counteract yet another screeching Celine Dion rendition of “Oh, Holy Night.”

Note these undiscovered and underplayed gems are listed in no particular order:

1. “Silver Bells”, Elvis Presley

I know I promised no retreads, but this song is more than just a cover of a fairly familiar holiday song. With appologies to Johnny Mathis, who made it a hit, I think Elvis has the definitive version. If you listen to the lyrics, this song always sounds as if it’s sung from the point of view of a wide-eyed rube. An unsophisticated country boy who is experiencing a city Christmas for the first time. Well, no one is more the epitome of the white trash country boy making the big time than Elvis. I imagine him singing this on his first day up from Tupelo. He sees the bright lights of Memphis. And the rest is history.

2. “What Will Santa Claus Say (When He Finds Everybody Swingin’)”, Louis Prima

Staying in the South, how about a great swingin’ holiday song from that New Orleans bandmaster Louis Prima? Can’t have enough of Louis Prima and the background chorus of Sam Butera and the Witnesses adds that extra dash of peppermint.

3. “Christmas Time in Harlem”, Louis Armstrong

Everything you would expect from a Louis Armstrong song including great lines like, “Cats are sleepin’ warm as toast” and “We’ll be all lit up like a Christmas tree” and “Hydee, Hydee, Hydee Ho. It’s Christmas time in Harlem.” Plus some great Satchmo trumpet solos.

4. “We Are the Shepherds”, Johnny Cash

Here’s a real change of pace and not an upbeat one. Because, well. . .it’s Johnny Cash, so you’re just relieved that no one’s shooting anyone in Reno. Actually this is noteworthy because Johnny pens a Christmas carol to the old cowboy tune, “The Streets of Laredo”, that gentle ditty about a cowboy lying in the streets ’cause “he’s shot in the breast and [he's] dyin’ today.” Only Johnny could see the Christmas spirit in that.

5. “Welcome Christmas”, The Whos

Yes, those Whos. The ones whose Christmas the Grinch couldn’t steal. If you are like me and get choked up annually when the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes in one day you’ll love a song that includes lyrics like “Fa-whoo For-ay, Da-whoo Dor-ay. Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer. Welcome Whos from far and near.” Even though the cartoon airs every year, this song never gets enough airplay.

6. “A Party for Santa Claus”, Lord Nelson

As long as we’re trying to bring things upbeat, I love this Carribean novelty song that calls for us to turn the tables and buy Santa Claus presents. Things like a “big car with a chauffeur”, “a new continental suit” and even “take him out to a night club with some fine chicks.”

7. “Mary’s Boy Child”, Harry Belafonte

This song is about the closest thing on this list to a real Christmas carol. But who can resist Harry Belafonte, especially singing in a gentle Island patois with lines such as “They find no place to born she child” and “Them see a bright new shining star.” Enough to make you reimagine the Nativity Scene on a Bahamian beach.

8. “The Christmas Blues”, Dean Martin

Call me a heretic, but, out of the Rat Pack, I’ve always preferred Dean to Frank. Here he does Frank’s schtick one better — I’m talking the sad guy at the end of the bar at 2AM closing with nowhere to go. This is definitely a Christmas song to sing after not getting the presents you wanted and a few too many lonely Martinis.

9. “Mele Kalikimaka”, Bette Midler

Bing Crosby and the Andrews Sisters did an insufferable version of this that is played to death. Check out Bette’s hipper version complete with slack key guitar. Bette really did grow up in Hawaii. And what could be more fun to contemplate than Christmas on Oahu with the Divine Miss M?

10. “Christmas Times a-Comin’” Emmylou Harris

With very few exceptions, country artists put out the absolute worst Christmas recordings — and I’m someone who likes country music. But this upbeat number with dulcimer, guitar, banjo and Emmylou’s beautiful soprano is a wonderful exception.

There you have it. A list guaranteed to put you in the mood — or counteract the 500th version of “Frosty the Snowman” you just heard at the mall.

Merry Christmas and remember, Christmas music doesn’t have to be something you bear with gritted teeth. Just ask me for a playlist. I can put together anything: European Christmas, Punk Christmas, Country Christmas, Novelty Christmas, Spiritual Christmas, Jazz Christmas. . .

Now you have no excuse to be Grinch-like.

Having hit a milestone birthday, I’ve suddenly decided to get a full overhaul. That means all the tests you are supposed to have done and never get around to. Just had a full physical, booked for the colonoscopy, got a referral to a dermatologist to have all the moles checked, Friday get the full blood panel for cholestrol, liver function, thyroid, etc.

So far only one surprise. When I was weighed and measured at my physical, the assistant called out “Five Three and a Half.” Wait a minute. I’m exactly Five Two.

I made her meaure me again. She came up with Five Three and a Half. I made her do it again. Same result.

“Is there any way this machine isn’t calibrated right?”

“Nope”, she said. “But just exactly when was your height last measured?”

Had to think a while on that one.

And now that I thought about it, it seems the last time my height was really measured was sometime back at the end of high school or at my college entrance physical. I came up matching the old song from the 20s “Five foot two, eyes of blue.” Guess I just stuck with it.

Thinking back, I can’t remember my height’s ever been measured since. At various points, I’ve just been asked for my height, said “Five Foot Two” and that’s how it’s showed up on driver’s licenses, passports, etc. ever since.

“So is it possible I grew an inch and a half since late high school or freshman year in college?” I asked.

“Certainly. Happens a lot.”

So there you go. I’m Five Three and a Half. Maybe I was once even Five Four and shrunk a bit.

So that changes everything. Especially all the height and weight charts I’ve been going by.

Puts me in mind of the old Garfield cartoon where he’s standing on the scale looking at a height and weight chart. The caption reads:

“I’m not overweight. I’m just undertall.”

Well, not any more!

Earlier in this blog, I introduced you to Pasha the Mad Ukrainian. And I mean “Mad” in the very best way. As in “mad, crazy talented.

Pasha’s been taking the beams in the barn (which are made of new wood and wrapped with redwood) then distressing them to look like they’ve been there for a hundred years. It’s really transformed the space, especially with the barn being clad in the 370 year old redwood, Windfallah (read about “her” and Bug the Tree Man who found her for us here.)

But back to Pasha. Recently, he said to us, in his self-depreciating way, “Are you interested in hearing some suggestions?” Of course we were! Especially from Pasha. Luckily we’ve learned to listen to the great artisans we’re finding in Sonoma. It always results in something special. No exception here. Pasha’s taking us way out West.

First Pasha suggested that he really decorate the beams up in the loft — as if two bored cowboys had spent a cold winter on the range carving them. Since our decorating scheme for this part of the barn is “No Cowboy Theme is Too Cliched”, we were all for it. Pasha came up with a design that was part Native American, part rope motive, sort of Western with just a dash of Eastern Europe (He can’t help himself!) Then he got to work with his chisels, his chains and all his other implements de distress. His next suggestion was to add struts to the beams. Just in progress, the space is already looking as if Clint Eastwood and Lee Van Cleef should be lounging under the eaves.

The final touch was to add faux wooden bolts and beam edges, so our beams looked as if they’d been hand sawn and joined together circa 1890.

We can only quote the Duke at this point: “How do ya like that, Pilgrim?”

Find more pictures of the progress so far here.

If you’ve been reading this blog, you probably know that after getting better each year, our third attempt at winemaking went horribly wrong. It actually started out extremely promising. Then it went in the barrels and. . .ick. A nasty musty aftertaste. Now I think we’re catching the first clue to what caused this.

We’ve been scrupulously clean, which they say is the key. Wash everything down thoroughly with sulfite water before every contact with the wine. That leaves our hands and hair dry as dust, but so far so good.

Now we find out we were storing the barrels in absolutely the worst way you can possibly do it. Filled with water to keep them swollen and tight. Then washed out with sulfite water before the wine went in. Turns out that’s never enough. All those nasty wine-killing molds can hide in the cracks just waiting to spoil your wine.

Turns out, according to these guys and others, we should have thoroughly cleaned the barrels and stored them dry after burning a sulfer wick in them. Only just before we were to use them should we have rehydrated them and added a sulfite cleaning solution and cleaned them. Arrrg. Stupid mistake and the Syrah is paying for it. Well, live and learn.

On a lighter note. Our Mountain Lion, Joaquin, seems to be back. Out in the pasture, I found a gigantic cat footprint near some pretty deep impressions of deer footprints (which meant those deer were running fast!) I like the idea of a mountain lion, but I hope he maintains his taste for venison and never starts yearning for goats or horses or terriers.