Work repairing West Cliff Drive will start later than the city expected, as the construction company slated to make repairs struggles to approve aspects of the project.
The Santa Cruz City Council voted on Sept. 12 to repair four portions of the cliff-face between Columbia and David Way and to restore traffic to two-way, estimated to cost $8.7 million. Granite Construction was expected to mobilize for work the week of Sept. 11 or sooner and begin construction soon after, according to the city council’s agenda report.
“(The city) is definitely late. I think they would acknowledge that as well. I think the hope is that we get enough of these infill walls in place to manage the situation with the super El Niño that is coming,” said West Cliff resident Al Ramadan.
Ramadan is a member of Save West Cliff, an organization of local residents, ex-politicians and surf honchos formed in the wake of the winter storms that damaged parts of West Cliff earlier this year.
A wet and stormy El Niño could limit work days and slow construction when the cliffs are most vulnerable. Multi-month forecasts are not exact, but by most accounts a considerable El Niño is predicted. Storms are more likely to come from the south like those that caused damage last winter, according to oceanographer Gary Griggs.
El Niño is a concern for the city, but weather is always a concern, according to City Engineer Kevin Crossley.
“We recognize we are running out of good-weather days,” said Crossley. The fewer days working now means more in the spring.
According to City Manager Matt Huffaker, the plan is on time
“Our project timeline for the four infill walls is on track. Granite Rock is out there as we speak. They put together a rapid mobilization plan. They are actually bringing in contractors from all over the Bay Area and outside of the state to build out their construction team and they’re out there staging,” Huffaker said on Oct. 4.
Progress on the project has been held up by a shoring and excavation plan, a customary document required when digging holes in construction work. The plan must show the projected extent of digging around the damaged area as well as how to access the site. Planning ramps down to the excavation sites to move workers and equipment has proved difficult because of tide variability and wave action.
Due to these challenges, Granite Construction has had trouble finding an engineer who wants to sign off on the plan, according to city engineer Kevin Crossley. But the company is still working on the shoring plan.
According to the city, the excavation is expected to start Oct. 11. The goal is to build the walls before the end of the year.
Construction “may bleed into 2024” on the infill walls, according to Public Works Director Nathan Nguyen. The most vulnerable cliff-face at 1016 West Cliff Dr. will be addressed first.
The 50-Year Vision Community Meeting
On Oct. 3 at the London Nelson Community Center, community members came together with city staff to give their input for the city’s 50-Year Vision for West Cliff Drive.
The process to move ahead with a 50- year vision was approved by the city council in May.
The idea was informed by the 2018 Climate Emergency Declaration and the 2021 West Cliff Adaptation Plan. Since the winter storms that caused immense damage to the iconic drive, there have been five public meetings and several more are planned in the months ahead to gather community input on how to maintain the drive moving forward.
A separate “focus group,” criticized for its lack of diversity by the mayor and council members, is meeting to advise the city and community on the future of the drive. Huffaker said that the city is reaching out to a group of community members to diversify the focus group.
The community engagement process is oriented around a long-term horizon as directed by the council. Fifty years is too long to plan all contingencies out so it is a “vision,” said Huffaker.
“This is really about what West Cliff will look like for our kids, our grand-kids, our great-grand kids,” Huffaker said.
Michael McCormick of Farallon Strategies—the consulting company on the project— guided the meeting. McCormick laid out jurisdictional, regulatory, monetary and environmental parameters to limit the vision. The city only has jurisdiction over the high-tide line. The California Coastal Commission will only allow the city to build back to what existed before. Generous federal monies might not be here again and a rising sea-level will take a toll on the road, McCormick said.
Despite the parameters, the long-term vision is an endeavor of positive thinking, according to McCormick.
Huffaker also sees the potential for a plan which gets us, “off the hamster-wheel of dealing with impact after impact and looking at it with a much broader comprehensive vision of what really is a world-class coastline that we all really have come to appreciate and love.”
The community participation aspect of the meeting was structured around groups ranking six “themes” on their importance for West Cliff in 50 years. Participants shared many different priorities, but two themes came up the most: “safeguard coastal resources” and “maximize access to the coast.”
While the meeting was focused on 50 years from now, the immediate implication of the collapsed roadway as winter approaches could not be avoided.
“If we don’t fix this and where we are headed right now, we’re not [going to fix the drive.] This infill wall is not going to fix it. We’re going to have nothing,” said Al Ramadan of Save West Cliff.
After the devastation of the Pajaro floods in March, families in South County continue to rely on financial support from local organizations as they start to rebuild their lives.
While the waters have receded and a sense of normalcy has been restored, some people are still struggling to make ends meet. Others are getting the help they need to repair homes that were damaged by the floods.
Over $14 million in financial relief has been distributed to flood victims. About half of that money has come from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), which distributed close to $7.5 million to qualifying applicants.
Nonprofit organizations Community Bridges and the Community Action Board of Santa Cruz County (CAB) have provided $6.7 million. These organizations have been working with flood victims from day one, stepping in after the disaster struck and state and federal relief was not yet available.
Tony Nuñez-Palomino, the communications manager for Community Bridges, says that many of the families who are still reaching out for help need assistance paying rent or buying groceries.
“A lot of people were living paycheck to paycheck during this and something like [the floods] completely depleted all of their savings,” Nuñez-Palomino says.
In the aftermath of the disaster, Community Bridges handed out $500 gift cards to residents as immediate relief. Individuals directly impacted by the floods, or those making 80% below the area median income, qualified to receive aid. The organization followed up with checks between $1,450 to $2,750 of additional assistance.
Early on, the county of Monterey allotted $750,000 to be distributed as direct assistance to all county residents impacted by the storm. Community Bridges was one of the organizations designated to administer the funds. This was supplemented by $500,000 in community donations.
Currently, the organization is in its “third phase” of financial assistance, according to Nuñez-Palomino. This entails helping people secure permanent housing or repair damaged homes. About 60 families are getting help rebuilding.
According to FEMA, 1,469 individuals and households in Monterey County—which includes Pajaro—were granted federal financial assistance to date. However, undocumented immigrants did not qualify for this aid. Many Pajaro flood victims are undocumented farmworkers and don’t qualify for state or federal aid.
In the wake of the floods, the state is attempting to address the disparity in access to emergency disaster relief.
Relief For Immigrants
This past June, Gov. Gavin Newsom launched the Storm Assistance For Immigrants Project (SAI), a $95 million plan to provide aid for undocumented immigrants who do not qualify for FEMA aid.
Under the project, individuals who were affected by the winter storms in 2023 can receive up to $4,500 in assistance. The state invited a select number of nonprofit organizations within each county in the state to administer the grant. In Santa Cruz County, the Community Action Board was tapped to lead the efforts.
Paulina Moreno, a program director for CAB, is managing the SAI project locally and says her organization is a natural choice to administer it.
“Because of our track record, with over 55 years serving the community in Santa Cruz and Pajaro, it just made sense,” Moreno says.
Since the project launched in June, Moreno says that CAB has provided around $5 million in assistance to 3,000 individuals..The nonprofit is providing services not only in Spanish, but also in indigenous Mexican languages such as Mixteco and Zapoteco.
Moreno says that California is setting an important precedent with storm relief for undocumented residents.
“I’m very proud that […] we have been one of the states that during a crisis, hasn’t shied away from being bold and making a statement that our undocumented community is just like every other community member,” Moreno says.
“It’s the state’s responsibility, it’s the local responsibility to ensure that our community doesn’t get left behind.”
SAI assistance will be available through May 31, 2024 or until the funds run out.
A Santa Cruz company that manufactures self-balancing, one-wheeled skateboards is recalling 300,000 of its products after dozens of people were injured and four were killed.
Future Motion Inc., which makes the Onewheel skateboards, did not respond to a request for comment.
But in a recall notice on its website, the company says that the skateboards “can stop balancing the rider if the boards’ (speed) limits are exceeded, posing a crash hazard that can result in serious injury or death.”
Future Motion is located at 1201 Shaffer Rd. in Santa Cruz. The devices in question sold from 2014 to 2023 for between $1,050 and $2,200.
“Consumers should immediately stop using the recalled Onewheel electric skateboards,” the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) said in a press release.
To help address the problem, the company has added a “haptic buzz” feature–which works with the existing ‘pushback safety feature’–that riders can feel and hear to alert them when the board’s ability to balance might be compromised.
According to the CPSC, Future Motion received dozens of reports over the past year of injuries such as traumatic brain injury, concussion, paralysis, fractures and ligament damage.
The reported deaths resulted from head trauma, although in at least three of those incidents, the rider was not wearing a helmet.
This was not the first time that Future Motion has found itself at the center of a media maelstrom.
In November 2022, the company dismissed as “unjustified and alarmist” a CPSC warning that their products were unsafe and could cause riders to be ejected and injured.
For information on the recall, visit recall.onewheel.com/safety.
In its latest session, which wrapped up last week, the state Legislature approved several cannabis-related bills and sent them along to Gov. Gavin Newsom for his signature (or veto). Conspicuously missing from this clutch of would-be laws was the thing the cannabis industry and its consumers want—and need—the most: tax reduction.
For the foreseeable future, the California cannabis industry will continue to struggle thanks in no small part to the enormous tax burden it faces, particularly the 15% cannabis excise tax that comes on top of local pot taxes (where they are levied) as well as the normal sales tax. Combined with the power of localities to disallow cannabis businesses, leaving the state’s cannabis industry with no direct access to a majority of its potential customers, the tax situation has kept the industry at the edge of ruin since weed became legal to sell in 201 6.
Growers, retailers, manufacturers and distributors have been dropping out of the business left and right. Many of those that remain are struggling to keep their heads above water.
Meanwhile, illicit sellers of weed (who charge no tax at all) have continued to thrive. About two of every three pot sales in California is an illegal transaction. That is unlikely to change much unless and until the state’s tax rates come down.
But the Legislature isn’t doing anything about it. When he was representing Oakland as an Assemblymember, Attorney General Rob Bonta tried a few times to get the excise tax cut, but his efforts went nowhere (he’s still advocating for it, though).
That doesn’t mean the Legislature wasn’t busy with cannabis issues this session. Some of them, the industry welcomes. Others, industry advocates say, will only make the situation worse.
The most controversial bill on Newsom’s desk (which he might have signed or vetoed by the time you’re reading this; the deadline for his signatures or vetoes on all bills is Oct. 14) sailed through both chambers, despite its highly problematic nature. Sponsored by Assemblymember Jacqui Irwin, Democrat of Thousand Oaks, AB 1207 would create a whole new batch of requirements for labeling cannabis products that nearly everyone in the industry (and many without it) find onerous and perhaps even punitive. If signed by Newsom, the bill would ban the use of images of human beings on labels, whether they are actual people or fictional characters. Images of animals or “creatures” would also be banned, as would “cartoons” and pictures of robots, toys and fruits and vegetables (unless, in the latter case, they represent ingredients actually used in the product).
As is so often the case with cannabis laws, this is a “protect the children” bill. The problem it seeks to address is a real one: many cannabis products look like they were designed to appeal to kids (whether they actually were or not). But creating laws to regulate such things is always a dicey undertaking at best. Opponents of the measure say it goes way too far. One provision leaves the determination of what might appeal to children up to state regulators, which could lead to arbitrary—and expensive—decisionmaking. It would also make marketing even more difficult for smaller companies that already face a bewildering and profit-eating slew of regulations.
Sen. Steven Brandford (D-Los Angeles) sponsored a bill that would allow social-equity cannabis businesses to obtain or renew licenses for up to five years as they await permanent licenses.
The third cannabis bill that got a lot of attention last session, AB 374, would allow retailers to operate kitchens and host events. Consumption lounges are already legal at the state level, but owners have not been allowed to serve food and beverages, which limits their appeal. The bill, sponsored by Assemblymember Matt Haney (D-San Francisco) would allow retailers to expand their revenue potential. Many localities with legal weed disallow consumption lounges. This bill would not change that.
In total, Newsom has about a dozen cannabis-related bills on his desk (along with a bill to decriminalize certain psychedelics, including psilocybin). While some of them would have major consequences for the industry, none address the fundamental problems afflicting California’s cannabis business. Maybe next year.
Four years ago, Watsonville native Brando Sencion was working at a non-profit and brewing beer at home. When he and his brother, Kristian, who had been working in restaurants for over a decade, would hang out and talk, the idea of opening their own pizza and beer spot kept coming up.
Then words turned into actions, they worked on their baking skills and found a location. But before opening, they decided to make a pizza pilgrimage to the Big Apple to sample and become inspired by the best pies that the city had to offer. Upon returning home, they opened The Slice Project which Brando says has a classic neighborhood pizzeria vibe, with no-frills counter service set amidst a clean and modern ambiance.
They have on-site dining and takeout, and are open Monday-Thursday 12-8pm, Friday 12-9pm and Saturday 2-9pm (closed Sunday). Their New York-style pizzas are 19-inch thin-crust with classic tomato sauce base, headlined by the best-selling Pepperoni, Pineapple Express and the Supreme. They also offer a white sauce version with cheese and lemon zest, as well as Detroit-style pizzas cooked in a square pan with a thicker crust and caramelized crispy edges.
Give me the skinny on your signature thin-crust pie?
BRANDO SENCION: My brother and I pay homage to the best New York pizza that we could find. Before starting the business, we traveled to New York to try out different pizzerias. We brought that inspiration home, taking the best parts of the pizzas we tried and incorporating them into our own recipes. We are happy to be able to offer our version of New York pizza to our community.
Tell me more about the Detroit-style?
BS: The Detroit is a pizza that my brother and I first tried in San Francisco. The first time I had it, I fell in love and told my brother that we had to put this on our menu. The cheesy crust edges on the pie paired against the texture of the soft dough really blew my mind and convinced me that it was both really good and really different. It has become a classic and popular option on our menu, and guests often remark that it is truly addicting.
300 Main Street, Watsonville, 831-319-4851; sliceprojectpizza.com
On Feb. 15, 1989, while I was walking to my gig at Laughs Unlimited Comedy Club in Old Sacramento, the victim of an armed robbery positively identified me as her assailant. I was arrested for seven armed robberies, and it took the police 29 hours to figure out they had the wrong guy. While in hard lockup I learned how to con people, I made criminal connections, and I was assimilated into a gang–pretty much everything you need to make it in show business. This is how it happened.
The Haircut
I wanted a new look for the stage, an edgy look. The beautician cut it short with spikes and dyed it black. She added mascara and eyeliner, and I had the crazed look I wanted. She said, “You look dangerous.”
It’s my first night out with my new haircut. I’m in the basement restroom of Dos Padres Restaurant in Old Sacramento, two blocks from Laughs Unlimited. It’s 35 minutes until I go onstage and I’m getting up for my set. I put on mascara and eyeliner and throw punch lines into the mirror. I see a Planned Parenthood sticker on the condom machine and say, “I believe in Planned Parenthood. There is a right time and a wrong time to have parents.” I dance on my toes, warming up like a prizefighter.
“I am The Reframe Wizard. You can say, ‘California public education is 49th in the nation,’ or you can say, ‘Thank God for Alabama!’ ” Jab, jab, uppercut.
“How did I get so successful? I was a salesman going door to door selling No Soliciting signs.” Boom!
I head for the stairs but there is congestion, I can’t get around three big cowboys. They grab my arms and yell, “Don’t freak out! Don’t freak out!”
Who grabs a total stranger and yells, “Don’t freak out”?! I flap my arms up and down, giving all three a ride. It seems that three drunken cowboys are forcing me to square dance. Or maybe I’m in the hands of an organ harvesting cartel and am going to wake up with no kidneys. I try to remember if I had signed my organ donor card.
I yell, “Police!”
They go, “Yes!”
I yell louder, “Police!”
They go, “Yes!”
And I go, “Police?”
“Yes. We’re undercover.”
Oh, thank God they’re cops. I am so relieved. I figure it’s time to straighten this out, “Hey fellas, what’s up? I’ve got a show to do, I’m on in 30 minutes.”
They handcuff my hands behind my back. They walk me outside and stand me against a brick wall. I’m being kept from getting to my gig and it gets harder to breathe. It keeps getting darker, it keeps getting later.
LEMONS TO LEMONAIDE Richard Stockton mugshot Photo: Richard Stockton
That’s Him
I apparently look guilty to everyone with my hands handcuffed behind my back. Everyone passing by stops to take a long, hard look at what the bad guy looks like. (He’s got to be guilty. Why else would the police have him?) I have never seen people look at me with such revulsion and disgust, and I’ve played some rough rooms. I don’t quite get what is happening yet, but this is bumming me out, I need to be in an elevated mood to perform standup at Laughs Unlimited Comedy Club.
The cops bring forward a well-dressed young lady who stops 20 feet from me. She has mascara running down her face, my guess from crying. Her hair hangs in tangles, she is breathing hard, and she looks at the ground like she is afraid to look at me. My arresting officer tries to get her to move towards me, but she refuses to come closer. He asks her to look up, and she follows his arm and pointing finger to look at me for three seconds. I see her grimace, purse her lips and nod. “That’s him.” Then she turns away and never looks at me again.
I want to ask her, “Excuse me miss, what exactly do you mean, ‘That’s him’?” I do not know at this point what I am being charged with. In a perverted twist of double-blind eyewitness theory, all parties, both the police and the eyewitness, know I am the suspect, both know what the crime is. The only “blind” participant is me.
As “Sarge” reads me my rights, he tells me it is for armed robbery. I urge him to walk two blocks to the comedy club where I have worked all week. His youngest deputy says, “Sarge, you sure we got the right guy? He’s got all these comedy club paycheck stubs in his wallet.” Sarge looks at the night sky, takes a deep breath and says, “I got a positive ID.” He spins me around and hisses, “Gotcha!”
I’m pushed into the back seat of a police car by a hand on the back of my head. I’m not going to my gig, and I feel my spirit leave my body. The car floats through the streets of Sacramento, past buildings I have been in but now are strange, cold, distant. We turn into the rear of the police compound on 7th and H. Two cops walk me across the parking lot towards the buildings, stripping me as we walk. They take my wallet, they take my belt, everything out of my pockets, and look them over as we walk.
From the moment Sarge had said, “Gotcha!”, their attitude towards me changed from fear and suspicion to contempt. Police you meet in public are trained to be nice, in jail they treat you like the scum of the earth.
“It says seven counts of armed robbery. You? You committed armed robbery seven times?”
You’re In The Jailhouse Now
They take all my possessions except for my contact lens case and put me in a holding cell packed with 30 men who are in for everything from peeing in public to murder. I’m wearing a silk white jacket, a skinny black tie and makeup. Wearing mascara and eyeliner is not the look you want in jail.
Hours pass. The tank is hot with the smell of men, I close my eyes and doze standing up. Two men are talking, they’re here to stand trial for murders they had allegedly committed in Folsom Prison.
“Hey man, I hear they’re having trouble with the pool up at Folsom.”
“What’s wrong with the pool?”
“The water keeps turning red.” Har, har, har.
There is no easier way to learn how to con people than to go to jail, and I quickly get the hang of it. A six-foot six-inch skinhead steps in front of me, he has a swastika tattooed on his cheek. He pulls my arrest sheet out of my hands, tantamount to a bitch slap. The cell falls silent, they all want to know what the weirdo is in for. The skinhead moves his lips. I’m amazed he can read.
“Armed robbery. You?” There are murmurs of approval.
He frowns.
“It says seven counts of armed robbery. You? You committed armed robbery seven times?”
I shrug. “Who keeps count?”
Gasps of admiration. Everyone is smiling and nodding their head at me. I’m thinking, “I could make it big here.”
My eyes are burning, I know I’ve got to take my hard contacts off and put them in my carrying case, but I do not want anyone to know of my vision weakness. A place opens against the wall, I sit down and lean back. It takes me 30 minutes to take off my contacts by covering my lens case and removing my lenses with movements that look like I have an itch on the bridge of my nose. I get them into my lens case undetected.
They call 20 of our names and we file into a second waiting room where we are given a quarter and get to use a pay phone. I call my brother and explain that he’ll need to purchase a bail bond for $50,000.
I hear the big guy from Folsom Prison counseling a young man to not follow a life of crime, but to get out, go home and take care of his family. The younger man says, “But I go crazy when the baby starts crying at night.”
“Well, when the baby cries you get up and get it a bottle. You take care of that baby and do not follow me here. It doesn’t get better here.” I am fascinated by this jailhouse shaman, this wise convict counselor, and want to get a look at him. He senses me looking at him and spins around, his red eyes bore into mine. His glare says, “Fuck with me and I will kill you.” I get the message loud and clear and we never make eye contact again.
They lead us into a big wire cage for strip search. We stand in a circle facing the center and we’re ordered to strip. I try to get into a Gandhi state of mind, but I am so mad and so afraid that my veins stick out and my muscles twitch. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that I look like a homicidal maniac?
We strip and are told to put our hands over our cocks while cops with billy clubs stand behind us. One at a time we bend over to grab our ankles while a cop gets down on one knee to look up our ass. The kneeling cop tells us to cough three times. I think, “At last, I’m receiving the very best of Republican health care.”
I remember a joke about an inmate who had saved a fart for this moment, but I doubt it would get a big enough laugh to warrant broken bones. We are given uniforms; they’re like blue flannel PJs with white stripes, along with cloth booties and a towel. They take us to our cells and tell us which bunk is ours. This is a relief–the way to make time pass in jail is to sleep.
Saved By An Angel
I lay in my bunk and think of the guy out there who did the robberies. What if I’m a dead ringer for him? What if seven people take the stand, point at me, and say I robbed them at gunpoint? There is no solace in being judged by 12 of my peers. My peers are dumb as fuck. I’m going to convince a lifetime Walmart cashier and a guy who hands out shoes in a bowling alley that seven people who are sure I robbed them have it all wrong?
I fall asleep in my bunk, but even in sleep I still hear the sounds of the jail; steel doors slamming, voices shouting, canned laughter from a TV.
It takes the police twenty-nine hours to figure out that they got the wrong guy. I am saved by my investigating officer, Detective Allan Aires, an African-American man who takes the time to look into my innocence. As he grills me about my whereabouts for the day, I tell him that they have the wrong guy.
“That’s it? You’re just saying that you’re not the guy?”
“Yes sir.”
“How many times have you been arrested?”
“I’ve never been arrested in my life.”
“What? You’ve never been arrested?”
“No sir. Never.” Detective Aires spins away, runs his hands through his hair, trying to square my lack of a record with the charges of seven armed robberies. He shakes his head. “OK. I’ll check out your story, but if you’re lying to me, I will fuck you up.”
Detective Aires saved me. He goes away for 24 and returns to say, “I believe you.”
When the jailhouse cops begrudgingly take me to get my belongings for release, they are incensed that they have to let me go: “Guess there’s not enough on you to make it stick this time, asshole. We’ll be waiting for you.”
In The End It Was Hair and Skin
After I get out on February 17, I contact Detective Aires and he agrees to try to expunge my record. I meet him down at the jail and we talk about my case. He is deeply concerned about how I’m taking my experience with his department. He laughs, “You’re not going to be too hard on us from the stage are you?” Then he shows me a picture of the man they finally arrested for the holdups.
“Richard, you can see the resemblance.” It’s a Polaroid of a skinny Italian man with spiky hair. The only resemblance is our hair and the color of our skin.
Tell It To The Judge
I’ve been seething about my bust for 34 years and that’s why I was so excited to read about the new California statute, Senate Bill 923, that gives police and prosecutors guidelines to make eyewitness testimony more reliable. I asked retired Santa Cruz Superior Court Judge John Salazar how this new statute will help.
Judge Salazar said, “If a police officer arrests somebody, and they have a good sense that this is the right person, consciously or subconsciously there could be some bias in that procedure, unless it’s blind. If there is unconscious body language, nodding your head, tensing up, gesturing, leaning, you don’t want to take that identification, because once the victim identifies someone, typically they stick with it. In their mind they build up their assurances that this is the right person.”
I said, “But in my case, they did it right there, handcuffed. I looked guilty as hell.”
“That is why the new law is there, to minimize suggestiveness. The way the officers did it with you would not be allowed now, under this law, which wouldn’t eliminate it, but help prevent misidentification. Police can do things, like not handcuff you. That is one of those things lawmen typically won’t do anymore. It clearly means you’re a suspect. But just standing there, whole different thing. We want people to look like they normally do. With bias, where is your impartiality? Where is your ‘innocent until proven guilty’? You lose that.”
PROGRESSIVE TIMES Santa Cruz Superior Court Judge John Salazar. Photo: Ben Rice
What I Hope
Last week I told my jail tale to Santa Cruz defense attorney Zach Schwarzbach, and he said, “You are very lucky. That detective did not have to help you, many wouldn’t.” I often think about what Detective Aires did for me and I hope I can find him through social media. I want to thank him for these past 34 years of freedom that let me raise my children.
I hope we can help police, prosecutors and juries make “innocent until proven guilty” a reality.
I hope that the good citizens serving on juries study the science of eyewitness reliability to keep innocent people out of prison.
And for the 2,305,258 Americans who are currently locked up, I hope we can exonerate those who are in there for walking to work with the wrong haircut.
If you want to learn more about mistaken eyewitness identification, please visit www.californiainnocenceproject.org. A longer version of Richard’s jail tale is in his latest book, Love at the In-N-Out Burger, available at Bookshop Santa Cruz and Amazon.com.
It’s melting toward midnight on a recent Friday at Red Room Cocktail Lounge when the barkeep with the hoop earrings yells out a challenge: “Sing along with this song or we’re shutting this sucker down.”
Fortunately the song in question belongs to one Whitney Houston. Moments later a couple of dozen strangers are shout-singing, “So when the night falls / My lonely heart calls / Oh, I wanna dance with somebody!”
The Red Room was not a planned part of this after-hours action, but it’s not a bad place to end up. And while it might not seem to qualify as an eatery, that’s where the surprises begin.
Surprise #1: The Red Room serves food (!). OK, the one-item menu—on my latest visit the item being a turkey-harvarti-pesto panini made in the adjoining kitchen—isn’t extensive, but it’s not nothing.
Surprise #2: A tall, bearded man by the door is carrying a hot bag like you’d see with an Uber Eats driver, only built for walking around. Turns out it’s loaded with stromboli and other handmade Italian treats he makes at his food trailer and then hand delivers.
He texts me his menu, and it looks good—more stromboli, big burgers, hoagies, enchiladas, chef salads.But because he finds municipal and county laws on mobile .
“It’s a gray area,” he says. “Street vendors and food trucks are deprioritized by [local lawmakers] in favor of McDonald’s and Jack in the Box.”
He did add this: “Check out the people by the Catalyst.”
Cue the next surprise: The options there include not one but two good-vibe family operations with well-above-average food—staying open as late as 2am on the regular. Hallelujah.
El Buen Taco has been dropping anchor in the Catalyst parking lot for five months. Friendly owner-operator Jerry Velasco, a Scotts Valley High School alum and father of four, slings quesadillas, street tacos and a best-selling surf-and-turf burrito with carne asada and shrimp. I tried the other top seller, the Baja fish taco, and it proved spot on.
They’re there 6-11pm Tuesday-Thursday, until 2am Friday (and also hold it down in the Costco parking lot daily 9am-5pm).
Velasco learned to cook in the home kitchen with his mom, to wash dishes in a restaurant kitchen with his dad and knows why he remains in the game.
“I love making people’s day,” he says. “It’s a good feeling that keeps me motivated to do what I do.”
The other truck is Evil Wings, which dishes a prodigious amount of munchie-friendly fare: wings a la mango habanero, Buffalo, Asian chili, lemon pepper and beyond, burgers (Impossible included), Philly cheesesteaks, specials like quesabirria, crazy fries and onion rings, hard shell tacos, choco churros and zanier desserts and the Diablo Challenge, a dare to take down four muy picante wings in two minutes to earn six free wings, any flavor.
The operation is all Irene Lopez, her mom Irma Tapia, and her boyfriend Gerardo Rojo, a career restaurant chef — and each has a “regular job” to boot. (Irene is a nurse.)
On top of that, Lopez and her mom sell breakfast sandwiches, wings, burritos, tacos, tortas, fries, and nachos at Kitchen 831 (2890 Soquel Ave.) 6:30am-3pm weekdays.
Lopez loves the combo of character-rich guests and the chance to help the unhoused.
“You get a lot of different clients,” she says. “And we give the homeless food—we never throw anything away.”
I love that this up-and-down late night mission ends on a high note.
EXTRA SERVING
A buffet of nourishing nuggets: 1) Santa Cruz Restaurant Week cometh Oct. 18-25 with bargain three-course set menus; 2) Santa Cruz’s own Pescavore tuna jerky—perhaps the perfect protein snack—is now on the shelves at Wal-Mart; 3) The Pizza Series has a new logo from Jim Phillips of Santa Cruz Skateboards fame and a grand opening target of early November, mbcrfg.org; 4) Wilder Ranch State Park hosts an heirloom apple tasting Oct. 14—70 varieties, $5. Tasty.
FEL is a tribute to Florence Elsie Lede, winery founder Cliff Lede’s mother. Florence was a home winemaker who provided the early inspiration for Cliff’s love of wine. FEL wines are located in Cliff Lede Vineyards in Yountville, and those who have visited this remarkable winery know what gorgeous wines are produced there. It’s a stunning winery with a beautiful tasting room and outdoor area. We celebrated my husband’s birthday there several years ago. We had lashings of food and wine that day – all perfectly paired and delicious.
Cliff says FEL’s 2021 Anderson Valley Pinot Noir ($42) “bears the hallmark characters of cherry and chocolate with intense mission fig and cranberry on the nose.” It’s simply delicious.
FEL Wine at Cliff Lede Vineyards, 1473 Yountville Cross Road, Yountville, 707-944-8642. Felwines.com
ONX Wines & Vineyards
It’s hard to visit even a fraction of the many wineries in Paso Robles. But ONX Wines is now sending out flights of four different wines in a sweet little tasting kit. The kit I sampled contained Indie Rosé (Tempranillo), Reckoning (Syrah), Mad Crush (Grenache) and Caliber (Cabernet Sauvignon). Each kit contains information about each wine, along with food-pairing suggestions. I was mad about the Mad Crush, with its marvelous flavors of strawberry, fig, cedar and berry. And I went with ONX’s suggested pairing of a barbecued chicken sandwich. Delish! These beautifully packaged tasting kits are $65 and would make delightful gifts for wine lovers.
Made in Italy, the Valdobbiadene Metodo Classico Prosecco Brut is a festive sparkling wine that’s very nicely packaged. And from the Languedoc region of France are these reasonably priced wines: Domaine Jean Claude Mas, Cote Mas Brut Rosé; Crémant de Limoux, NV; Domaine J.Laurens, Rosé N 7, Crémant de Limoux, NV.
Where do we go when we die? Is it a magical plane of existence located in the wisps of clouds? Or is it lurking just outside our visible senses? Are we able to communicate with the dead and can psychics get answers to questions we were never able to ask? Can the dead try to get our attention with whispers and things that go bump in the dark?
This Halloween season, get ready for your skin to crawl up and down your neck, while watching The Thin Place.
The Actor’s Theatre, downtown’s charming black box performance space, is premiering its first full-length play of the season, The Thin Place. Written by Obie Award-winner Lucas Hnath, this spooky production opens, eerily enough, on October Friday the 13th and closes on Halloween.
Not only is this the first full-length play of the Actor’s Theatre since 2019, this run is also only the second production of The Thin Place in California. Directed by horror aficionado and MCT member Miguel Reyna.
“I wanted to direct this play by Lucas Hnath because it is a simple, yet unconventional piece of theater,” says Reyna in between directing scenes at rehearsal. “It’s a play that can challenge the audience to think about what is real and what is an illusion.”
The Thin Place asks us to examine our beliefs and whether there is life beyond this life that we know. And while you might not leave with any definite answers, you’re guaranteed an ethereal time.
The stage set is minimal, but the emotional range of the actors draws you in so closely, that anything else would be a distraction. There’s a reason ghost stories are told around campfires, but in this case it’s the stage lights that cause the goose bumps.
“It’s an intimate play that asks for an intimate setting and Actor’s Theatre is perfect for this type of performance,” says Reyna.
The Thin Place stars Jennifer Galvin as Hilda, a woman who is haunted by her own familial scars. Galvin’s voice draws you into the realm where things may not be what they appear.
Her counterpoint is Tara Micmilin as Linda, who recently moved from England to the states and is a psychic, or perhaps she’s more (or less) than that. Linda is confident, brash, and empathetic. Hilda is demure, with a story to tell.
Rounding out the cast is Linda Sarah Michael as Sylvia and Ward Willits as Jerry. Together, their chemistry is palpable and electric.
Hilda has been experimenting with ESP and other “demonic activity” as her grandmother calls it, since she was a child. Linda’s loud gregarious arrival is seemingly off-putting. Yet, her candor and honesty make her character sympathetic as the occult ripples through the room.
Live theater is unlike any other medium, far surpassing mere spectator entertainment like TV or cinema. While being surrounded by like-minded souls in a darkened room, actors create magic onstage that can be life changing. In the case of The Thin Place, it can also be frightening.
“I love horror because horror is a device that examines and exposes the limits of the human condition. Horror is the boldest form of storytelling, it takes risks,” says Reyna.
Speaking of risks, on closing night, Oct. 31, is the Gaelic festival Samhain, the night when the veil between this world and “the other” is thinnest. Will you take a chance and head to The Actor’s Theatre that night? Will you allow the spirits to envelope you? Will you ever be the same?
The Actor’s Theatre is located 1001 Center Street and tickets can be bought online at www.santacruzactorstheatre.org
Maria Gaspar uses jail bars, film and sculpture to challenge the prison industrial complex.
Chicago-based artist Maria Gaspar grew up a few blocks from the Cook County Jail, the largest single-site jail in the United States, with around 6,000 prisoners.
Gaspar uses visual art and sound to transform prisons and jails with the goal of creating a world without incarceration. Her first West Coast exhibition Compositions is at the UC Santa Cruz Institute for the Arts and Sciences (IAS) Gallery at 100 Panetta Ave. from September 26 to March 3, 2024.
GT: Tell me about Compositions.
Maria Gaspar:Compositions includes glass casts of jail bars from Cook County Jail that I sourced. There’s video footage of a jail being dismantled that’s 60-hours-long. There are photographs and works on paper where I hole-punched images of jails. I basically punched out jails and prisons in Illinois. There will be community workshops where people can come and punch out images of California prisons and jails.
GT: Where do you see your art within the larger abolition movement?
MG: I think about Ruth Wilson Gilmore, the Visualizing Abolition Project at the IAS, or Angela Davis and many others who’ve been working towards abolition for a very long time. I think about creativity and imagination. Art forms have historically been threatening to the status quo and it’s the first thing taken away in public schools. Art has this ability to radically transform who we are and how we interact with one another.
I think about abolition as a durational process with different speeds. At times you need an urgent response. And sometimes it takes time to give yourself space to unpack and negotiate relationships. So much of it is about being kind. All of those things are antithetical to how we are pressured to function in a capitalist society.
GT: How did growing up near the jail impact you?
MG: I think back to being a kid growing up on the west side of Chicago and seeing friends targeted by police. Many were also targeted to join the military. I’m first generation Mexican-American, so there’s a lot in my neighborhood we’ve experienced around immigrant detention, and we’re seeing that even more now. I visited the jail when I was part of a Scared Straight program. I had no idea what abolition was when I was that age! There was no conversation about what it meant to see people locked up in cages. I feel privileged to have the time to think through these ideas as an artist, but also as an educator and somebody who works in prisons.
EIGHTEEN IRON JAIL BARS
GT: You mentioned that you “sourced” the jail materials. How did that go?
MG: The demolition of a part of the jail was happening and I was filming the building coming down. A judge came by and we talked. He was taking photographs of the demolition. He returned 20 minutes later and handed me a jail bar as a memento.
Like, “Here’s a gift.” It was strange to get gifted a jail bar that has confined people and taken their lives away. I wondered, “Should I be holding this?” At a certain point I thought, “Let’s transform these bars.” I found out that the guards were informally collecting some of the bricks and bars. They were placing these at the entry of the demolition site.
So, I walked over and said, “I’m an artist. Can I grab a couple?” I did this for a couple days and at a certain point there were no more materials. The demolition was still happening but I think there was this tension like, “What is she doing with these? She might be up to something.” I was able to collect 23 pieces of debris.
TRANSFORMATIVE SONIC SCULPTURES
GT: Tell me about the music in Compositions.
MG: I’ve brought 18 iron jail bars for James Gordon Williams and other musicians to create improvised sonic sculptures. My new title for this is We Lit the Fire and Trusted the Heat, which is from the autobiography of Angela Davis. I think about what sounds and voices have been heard through those jail bars. And how music can help those materials be freed, sonically. It’s transformative.
This story is dedicated to Tamario Smith who died at 21 in the Santa Cruz County Jail in 2020 due to overconsumption of water.
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FEL is a tribute to Florence Elsie Lede, winery founder Cliff Lede’s mother. Florence was a home winemaker who provided the early inspiration for Cliff’s love of wine. FEL wines are located in Cliff Lede Vineyards in Yountville, and those who have visited this remarkable winery know what gorgeous wines are produced there. It’s a stunning winery...
Where do we go when we die? Is it a magical plane of existence located in the wisps of clouds? Or is it lurking just outside our visible senses? Are we able to communicate with the dead and can psychics get answers to questions we were never able to ask? Can the dead try to get our attention with...
Maria Gaspar uses jail bars, film and sculpture to challenge the prison industrial complex.
Chicago-based artist Maria Gaspar grew up a few blocks from the Cook County Jail, the largest single-site jail in the United States, with around 6,000 prisoners.
Gaspar uses visual art and sound to transform prisons and jails with the goal of creating a world without incarceration. Her...
