Summer officially started this past Monday. It is not really summer, however, until the solstice parade in Santa Barbara is complete. Then, and only then, is summer finally at our doorstep.
From the humble beginning in 1974 with a group of street artists celebrating the birthday of artist Michael Gonzales, the Summer Solstice Celebration has evolved into the largest single-day event in Santa Barbara County, drawing crowds over 100,000 strong from near and far.
This celebration has birthed the Fremont (WA) Solstice Parade, which has been held every year since 1989. Founders Barbara Luecke and Peter Toms say the Fremont Solstice Parade was inspired by the celebration originally observed in Santa Barbara. Atlantic City is having their first solstice celebration complete with parade this year, and I am sure they owe a debt to Santa Barbara.
The parade in Santa Barbara begins at noon today and will feature more than 1,000 parade participants, floats, costumes and dancing ensembles. Most people are in the parade to see and be seen. There is one group, however, that appreciates it's anonymity and strives to remain hidden from the spectators.
What do a zeppelin, a very large cube, a tent, a top hat, a pyramid and various other enclosed entries have in common? They all housed a group of friends that know how to have a good time. They are the very special people in my life. The memories that can effortlessly make me smile, the shoulders I can cry on, the people that I know will always be there for me. It has been said that friends are God's way of apologizing for family. I wouldn't trade my family for anything, but none of them ever were in the Solstice parade with me. For that, you gotta have friends.
This year, look for a Chinese food take-out box. If you have an extra bottle of water, find the small slit in the side about eye level and press the bottle through (they'll thank you for it, trust me). Clap when they go by and tell them I love each and every one of them.
For those of you about to parade, I salute you.
June is a month of beginnings and endings. It is the end of spring and the beginning of summer; the end of the school year and the beginning of vacation; the end of the march of the amount of daylight in each day to its peak and the beginning of the decreases that will slowly but surely take us to the shortest day of the year.
When the Earth's axial tilt is closest to the sun at its maximum of 23° 26', the rays of the sun will be perpendicular to the Tropic of Cancer at 23°30' North latitude. In the Northern Hemisphere, that will happen on June 21 2010 at 4:28 am PDT, the day of the year with the longest period of daylight and the shortest period of darkness, the rays of the sun perpendicular to the Tropic of Cancer at 23°30' North latitude.
For centuries, civilizations have been awed by the great power of the sun and celebrated the first day of summer, otherwise known as Summer Solstice, Midsummer, St. John's Day, or the Wiccan Litha. Native Americans often held rituals and dances to honor the Sun. The Celts & Slavs celebrated the first day of summer with dancing & bonfires to help increase the sun's energy. The Chinese marked the day by honoring Li, the Chinese Goddess of Light. The Druids' celebrated the day as the "wedding of Heaven and Earth", which has resulted in the present day belief of a "lucky" wedding in June.
In Bellingham, the sun will rise Monday morning at 5:07 am and will set that evening at 9:16 pm, for a total of 16hrs 10min full daylight. If you count civil twilight which begins at 4:24 am and ends at 9:58 pm, the daylight hours stretch out to 17 hours 34 min.
A mere instant in time, Summer Solstice is here and gone. Solstice derives from a combination of Latin words meaning "sun" and "to stand still." As the days lengthen, the sun rises higher and higher until it seems to stand still in the sky. As a gardener, I celebrate Summer Solstice knowing I am but the caretaker and the sun is the provider.
Stop motion animation. Three words which, for decades, staggered the imagination. Who can forget the original version of "King Kong" and the mighty ape climbing the Empire State building? Or the terrifying sword-wielding skeletons of "Jason and the Argonauts", the sea-dwelling Kraken of "Clash of the Titans" and the Cyclops from "The 7th Voyage of Sinbad", all three from the creative hands and mind of Ray Harryhausen? Or even "Mad Monster Party", my personal favorite of the many stop motion animated features of Rankin/Bass?
Gumby came alive under the direction of Art Clokey, setting the foundations for a whole claymation film industry that made everything from Davey & Goliath to the California Raisins. Before computer-generated imagery (CGI) animation, stop motion animation allowed the fantasies of decades of film makers to come true. 
I was one of those film makers.
My first and favorite movie film camera was a Minolta XL 401 Zoom Super 8 with single-frame animation. Purchased in 1978, my friends and I made many a movie with this camera. Super 8 movie cameras were exceedingly good at warping the fabric of the space time continuum, seamlessly stitching sections together to create animation. I crafted the hand-made remote control for those single-frame stop action animation movies from a toggle switch, five feet of speaker wire and an empty 35 mm film canister.
My favorite was "Desk Race 2000". Think "Death Race 2000" starring David Carradine but substitute school desks for cars. I kid you not. Imagine taking a one-piece metal and wood desk like you may have used in high school and turning it upside-down, then advancing it six inches at a time for many many many feet...it was laborious but produced a fantastic cinematic masterpiece (or at least we thought so).
That camera recently found a new owner who wanted to make stop-action movies. My animation days are now in the past and I was ready to pass the torch to another generation. These days, a rainy Saturday, a bowl of popcorn and anything featuring Wallace & Gromit is enough to satisfy my movie making cravings.
My paternal grandfather kept chickens (mostly hens) when I was growing up. The flock provided eggs until they didn't, when they switched to providing ravioli filling. Consequently, we never really grew attached to them.
I especially have less-than fond memories of the rooster who left a scar on my leg the day after my bachelor party. It made no difference to him that I was 5 feet taller and 25 times his weight; he was at the top of the chicken hierarchy, and he showed me who was boss. Not long after that he made the transition from rooster to roaster.
Cindy is the driving force behind our chicken escapades; I just make the coops. I do, however, have a chicken obsession. I admit I have poultry emotion for one special hen. It's a bird that doesn't lay eggs or sacrifice itself for grilling, yet it brings joy to me (and many others, I know).
Yes, it is Alton Brown's chicken, the one that sits on what looks like a breadbox in his kitchen. Gallus Domesticus U
mbrellus. This is one rare bird. According to this page, AB purchased his at a store in North Carolina. Originally made by Department 56 in the 1990's, they are appear to be extinct and no longer available. There is a fair amount of Internet chatter regarding plans and people making their own, but nary a feather or strip of paper maché has shown up in my searchings.
It's time to take the chicken by the feathers and make one of our own. Think of it as a kinder, gentler form of genetic engineering, one that involves strips of paper and paste and won't result in farmers who save their seeds being sued by Big Agriculture.
I remember an early grade school experience where maracas were made out of light bulbs, newspaper and a glue-like substance that was edible. Well, we ate it; whether or not it was meant to be edible is another story, and might explain a few things about me. When the paper maché newsprint was dry, we banged the light bulb against a hard surface to break the glass inside, creating the rattle sound effect. Fortunately this creation doesn't need to be used as a percussion instrument, so I won't have to start with a really big light bulb.
When I get the starch off my hands I'll tell you about it. Until then, feel free to coo, cackle and cluck amongst yourselves.
