With its blend of local art, commuting whales, intriguing cement plant history (you’re welcome, San Francisco) and old-school eating establishments, a place like Davenport, population 650, is pretty muchimpossible to duplicate.
The same applies to one of those establishments, Whale City Bakery Bar & Grill (490 Highway 1), which enjoys past lives as a dive bar, gas station and card room. Its working recipe of boutique bakery plus diner-grade grill plus cliff-top patio plus live music cantina is similarly singular.
Which makes the debut of Whale City Bakery Bar & Grill Aptos (7941 Soquel Drive) special.
WCBBG2’s grand opening in the former Burger—after a hefty remodel—came May 14, with the identical menu as up north, plus baked treats shuttled daily from the mothership.
That means artichoke bread, olallieberry croissants, house challah French toast, big burgers and airy fish-and-chips—without the drive up the coast, though that remains a great option too.
Santa Cruz author Andrea Nguyen’s Ever-Green Vietnamese is a finalist for a James Beard award for vegetable-centric cookbooks—and it’s already made cookbook-of-the-year lists for The New York Times, Food Network and San Francisco Chronicle, among others. After popular volumes like the Vietnamese Kitchen, Asian Dumplings and The Banh Mi Handbook, she went more plant-based than, well, ever with Ever-Green. Its 125+ recipes include pantry hacks like vegan fish sauce, snacks like smoky nori wontons, contemporary street foods like rice paper “pizzas” and sweets like coconut-coffee pops. “Vietnamese food isn’t all about beef pho and meaty banh mi,” she writes. “It’s about agriculture.” vietworldkitchen.com.
BACK TO BACK
Here comes a loaded wine weekend writ both wide (Saturday) and tight (Sunday). The farther-ranging event happens first (May 18) with Santa Cruz Mountains Passport Days. That features unique tasting experiences at 35 participating wineries (at least) like Fellom Ranch Vineyards, Muns Vineyard, Saison Winery, Thomas Fogarty Winery and Naumann Vineyards, which are rarely open—plus the passport remains valid for complimentary tastings through 2024, winesofthesantacruzmountains.com/events/passport. The next day (May 19), Downtown Santa Cruz Spring Wine Walk welcomes a dozen plus wineries like Big Basin, Birichino and Bargetto to pour at welcoming retailers in and around Pacific Avenue. A ticket transforms into a wristband, wine glass and map, though enough boutiques participate that guests can do fine wandering where the terroir takes them, no map needed, downtownsantacruz.com/do/spring-wine-walk.
NEW RHYS’ PIECE
You don’t have to be a Santa Cruz wine homer to appreciate Rhys Vineyards’ mission “to make great wines from California’s most exciting mountain vineyards.” But it helps if you enjoy vino, which in turn makes the opening of Rhys Vineyards’ tasting room (11715 Skyline Blvd., Los Gatos) great news. The tastings happen 10am, 1pm and 3pm by appointment Tuesday-Saturday to start, and aren’t cheap at $95, but do deliver a killer lineup of at least a half dozen organic, single-vineyard wines, namely Chardonnays (from Mt. Pajaro and Horseshoe vineyards) and Pinot Noirs (from Bearwallow, Home Ranch, Mt. Pajaro and Horseshoe). And those all flow with guidance from Estate Director Rose Lacey in Rhys’ castle-esque Skyline Vineyard home, members.rhysvineyards.com/visit/.
The movement to legalize cannabis began in earnest in the ’60s and ’70s, and California was at the epicenter of it all the way up until the passage of Prop. 64, which legalized weed for adult use. The fight continues, of course, because pot is still illegal at the federal level, and there are lots of other inequities that still need to be addressed.
Some of the same Californians who worked for decades on legalization are working on those issues today. You might not know it, though, because in the seven-plus years since Prop. 64 passed, the image of California cannabis has radically changed, not necessarily in good ways, and a lot of the history has been forgotten.
When people think of California cannabis these days, they often think of the wide array of gummies and vapes displayed behind glass at their local dispensary, which might look a lot like an Apple Store or an upscale haberdashery. Or when they think of people associated with pot in California, they might think of mercenary VC bros or “entrepreneurs” like Adam Bierman, the founder of MedMen whose greed, profligacy, and narcissism ultimately destroyed his own company and did grave harm to the legal industry.
And they might have never even heard of Michael and Michelle Aldrich, who have been there from the beginning. The couple are “the O-est of OGs” in the California weed scene, says Amanda Reiman, whose own history in California cannabis extends back to well before legalization.
The Aldriches and Reiman, along with several others, decided that something needed to be done to address this widespread ignorance of history, especially among those working in the legal industry today who, Reiman says, often “have no sense of where it all came from.” So the group created the California Cannabis Historical Society. For now, the society is almost nothing—just a website with basic info and a few old snapshots. It doesn’t yet have any funding or any set plans, but Reiman says the aim is to create a physical space, probably somewhere in the Bay Area, produce traveling exhibitions, and fill the Web site with artifacts depicting the earliest days of California pot culture and the fight for legalization.
Michael Aldrich got involved in legalization activism in the mid-’60s, when he founded the first campus chapter of Lemar (Legalize Marijuana). Like many reform activists, he started on the East Coast, but quickly made his way to California, where the potential for real reform seemed greater (and, not coincidentally, the weed was so much better), founding the California Marijuana Initiative in 1972, serving in the board of the state’s NORML chapter, fighting for medical pot, running dispensaries, writing, lecturing, and doing too many other things to list here.
Michelle Aldrich’s history is similarly rich. She co-founded the San Antonio Free Clinic and the National Free Clinic Council, conducted research for the U.S. Commission on Marijuana and Drug Abuse, and served as the vice president of the ACLU’s San Francisco chapter of the ACLU and on the the boards of California NORML and the Drug Abuse Advisory Board for the City and County of San Francisco, She was a member of the San Francisco Medical Cannabis Task Force and the San Francisco Legalization Task Force. Perhaps most notably, she co-authored Prop. 215, which legalized medical pot in 1996.
The Aldriches, along with people dotted across the state, have a vast store of photos, documents, and other artifacts of historical import. But it’s all in storage, and the worry now is that the elements will get to them.That’s why Reiman says the first priority for the society is to find a climate-controlled space.
Perhaps the key thing to remember about the fight for legalization, and California’s central place in it, is that it had nothing to do with creating an “industry,” or making people rich. “People think everything started in 1996,” Reiman says, and they tend to forget— and maybe even never knew—that the movement started in order “to keep people from going to jail and having their lives ruined.”
Country and western classic tunes rocked the theater on opening night of Always … Patsy Cline. From C&W superstar Patsy Cline (Julie James) and the outrageous burlesquing of Texan superfan Louise Seger (Diana Torres Koss) to the boys in the band, led by Colin Hannon, the final production of the Jewel Theatre offered a feel-good evening to remember.
Always … Patsy Cline is the brainchild of musical entrepreneur Ted Swindley, and this musical show fits the talents of lead performer and Jewel founder Julie James from her bouffant hairdo down to her kitten heels. Prepare to be blown away by James’ perfectly amplified vocal chops as she croons, cries, wails and belts her way through Cline’s greatest hits. Hank Cochran’s “I Fall to Pieces” and “She’s Got You,” Hank Williams Sr.’s “Your Cheatin’ Heart,” Don Gibson’s “Sweet Dreams” by Don Gibson and Willie Nelson’s “Crazy” were some of the show-stopping favorites throughout the brisk two-hour show.
The show is based on the many letters exchanged by Cline and Seger, whose friendship began when Cline was performing in Houston in the late 1950s. The two women met one night at the Esquire Ballroom, and instantly hit it off. The friendship endured until Cline’s tragic end.
As the Jewel production opens, Seger (Koss) is seated at her kitchen table, reminiscing about that fateful night in Houston, and as the mesmerizing Koss narrates their story, James steps into the spotlight and starts weaving a spell that spans from country to cross-over pop, with a lot of homespun gospel thrown in.
Full disclosure: I had no idea that Julie James had this kind of vocal expertise. The show is irresistible, with a terrific back-up band interjecting itself playfully into the action. While the camaraderie between the two women shines brightly throughout the 20 musical numbers, the individual performances each work their magic.
Time to lavish praise on the phenomenon that is Diana Torres Koss, a multitalented, high-wattage performer who can do it all. “Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!” she quips, offering opening night’s eager audience an endless procession of raunchy, good ol’ girl wisdom.
Koss is the show’s ringmaster, whipping up the audience, winding up the band, and commiserating with Patsy at the dawn of her stardom. Koss’ physical comedy, impeccable smart-ass timing, and ability to milk a line, a word, a gesture for all it’s worth are the hallmarks of a seasoned performer. Most of all, it’s clear from their on-stage chemistry that she and James had a ball working together.
Ah, Julie James—an actor who can also belt out a steady stream of hits from the mid-century American songbook. James can own a stage with the best of them, and poured into her costumes—sequins and high heels, cowboy shirts and boots—she proceeded to take us on a nostalgic tour through a roster of Grand Ole Opry greats. James’ Broadway-sized contralto carried the soulful, honky-tonk lyrics of desire, betrayal and love lost.
And here’s where the assembled musicians who provide the continuous soundtrack serve her well. Led by pianist Hannon, a man who knows his way around the ivories, the band gave James exactly the sort of high-energy, bluesy backup that Cline herself would have expected. That would be Will Fourt/Charlie Joe Wallace on steel guitar, Jeff Adams on guitar, Matt Bohn on acoustic bass, Zack Olsen on drums and Ben Jackson on country fiddle/mandolin. Kudos to all these good ol’ boys, who along with Hannon kept the pace moving toward a poignant ending, followed by an uproarious encore. Nice job pulling it all together by director Shaun Carroll.
Go see Always … Patsy Cline, a deep dive into some treasured music and spunky humor. Go see it because it’s a rousing send-off to a theater company that’s given us so much to enjoy. Bittersweet? You bet. A chance to sing along with a treasured actor? Priceless. Love you, Julie James, and loved your show.
Jewel Theatre Company’s final production, Always … Patsy Cline, plays through May 26 at Colligan Theater, 1010 River St., Santa Cruz; jeweltheatre.net.
The band’s name suggests a sound that draws from the complex and intricate rhythms of the Africa. But while Seattle-based Polyrhythmics began with Afrobeat as a musical starting point, the group has crafted a sound all its own. The group—perhaps better described as a collective—released its debut album, Labrador, in 2011. Today, Polyrhythmics have six albums, a pair of EPs and a half dozen singles. And the style and sound will confound those intent on pigeonholing the group.
Saxophonist/flutist Art Brown laughs when that conundrum is pointed out.
“The whole ‘labeling’ discussion confounds us as band members, too,” he says. Noting that the original concept came from founders Ben Bloom (guitar) and drummer Grant Schroff, Brown says that Polyrhythmics did begin with musical touchstones that included Fela Kuti and Antibalas. “That’s how it was pitched to me,” he says. But as the vision—and the group—expanded, a horn section became an integral part. “And I think we’ve branched out significantly,” Brown says.
The sonic realignment was more a factor of exploring the unique collective character that the seven-man lineup brought to the music. And constant touring meant that the group’s style, strength, cohesion and versatility only grew.
Polyrhythmics’ first three albums were released by a small, Canada-based label specializing in vinyl releases of instrumental funk and Afrobeat. By 2017 the group had shifted to self-releasing its music, but a fortuitous meeting helped bring the band to a wider audience. “Ben had been a fan of the New Mastersounds for several years,” Brown recalls. And when Bloom turned his band mates on to the deep-groove boogaloo funk of the foursome from Leeds, England, they were impressed as well. “I thought they were just incredible,” Brown says.
A mutual respect and friendship grew between members of the two bands, and when New Mastersounds guitarist Eddie Roberts launched his own label, Color Red, Polyrhythmics arranged for a pair of releases on the new imprint. 2020’s Man From the Future will appeal to fans of Roberts’ group, with the addition of complex rhythms and shades of James Brown, Maceo Parker and George Clinton.
Man From the Future’s sonic textures also took the music in a moodier direction; the group’s website uses words like “sinister” and “dark”. But that was only one of many sides to the band; at almost the same time, they released another disc. A five-song, 12-inch EP called Fondue Party showed Polyrhythmics’ playful side. It recalls classic genre-blurring releases like Herbie Mann’s Memphis Underground and Push Push.
As bracing and high-energy as Polyrhythmics’ music is, there’s an undercurrent of urbane sophistication and subtlety on the studio cuts. And Brown concedes that getting that subtlety across in a live setting can present a challenge. He explains that his jazz background emphasizes improvisation, an approach in which “multiple stories are being told from soloist to soloist.”
But Brown says the longer, more groove-oriented approach employed by Polyrhythmics means that a more intentional approach is required. “There’s a lot of ego that needs to be taken away,” he says with a chuckle. “I have to take myself out of it and think more about the journey, the story that we’re telling as a group.”
Polyrhythmics plays with Floratura May 17, 9pm, at Moe’s Alley, 1535 Commercial Way, Santa Cruz. $20 advance / $25 day of show moesalley.com
The great roller coaster arose amid screams above the golden strand of the Santa Cruz Boardwalk—a tooth-loosener, eyeball-popper, and one long shriek.
—Herb Caen, San Francisco Chronicle
Early morning at the Boardwalk is one of my favorite times. It is ever so calm and quiet, save for the squawking of seagulls circling over the waterfront. There is a subtle sense of anticipation as the day is about to unfold, and in early spring, there is still a bite in the air and a light mist sits over the bay. Sweet scents of cotton candy and saltwater taffy emanate from the colonnade as I’m preparing for the kinetic human energy that gathers and then reaches a crescendo each and every day along the promenade.
It’s a stroll that I’ve taken hundreds, if not more than a thousand, times over the years, ever since I was a kid on the Santa Cruz waterfront in the 1950s. There was a stretch of years when my cousins and I would walk it nearly every day. I never grow tired of the carnival ambience—that crazy midway mix of sights and sounds and aromas and anticipation, and today, I confess, a little apprehension, too. I’ve been invited to ride the Boardwalk’s iconic wooden roller coaster—the Giant Dipper—which on Friday, May 17, will be celebrating its 100th birthday.
Riding the Giant Dipper is a rite of passage for virtually every young kid who grows up in or around Santa Cruz. You need to be 50 inches tall to get on the ride—a little over four feet—which most kids reach between the third and fourth grade. I remember having to wait until the summer after fourth grade until I finally got my chance to ride it—with my parents, as I recall, on their wedding anniversary in August of 1964. I still remember the evening, proud, excited, and nervous, boarding one of the cars, sitting next to my dad with my mom behind us (she was actually 9 when the ride first opened in 1924)—and then, well, the magic of it all.
What I will never forget—it’s been permanently embedded in my memory—was the absolutely mesmerizing panoramic view from the top of the first high climb, looking out over the City of Santa Cruz all the way to Bonny Doon and the ridges of the Santa Cruz mountains, out into the vast darkness of the Pacific Ocean beyond the bay, the coastal terrain stretching all the way to Watsonville and Moss Landing, and the lights sparkling everywhere in the distance, Oz-like.
And then, whooooooosh!, in an instant, it all goes away. The world drops beneath you. I remember my mother screaming, a primal caterwaul of fear and who knows what, and you hang on for dear life.
What a ride!
DOWN UNDER Boardwalk workers meet with Charles Canfield in the parts of the park no tourist ever sees. PHOTO: Wai-ling Quist
CHAIRMAN OF THE BOARDWALK
My companion for today’s jaunt is none other than Charles L. Canfield, the former president and CEO of the Santa Cruz Seaside Company (the overseer of Boardwalk operations), who continues to serve as the SCSC’s chairman of the board. For a couple of old salts who have spent big chunks of their lives on the Santa Cruz waterfront, we seem surprisingly excited (perhaps even a little anxious) by our morning itinerary.
One of the first things one notices about Canfield is that even though he’s no longer in charge of the day-to-day at the Boardwalk, he seems to love every nook and cranny of the place. His smile takes on a youthful radiance as he talks about the joys and delights of being involved with one of the oldest remaining amusement parks on the Pacific Coast. I know how old he is (I’ll let you do the math; he graduated from Santa Cruz High in 1957), but he shows no signs of slowing down. He clearly still loves it—passionately and intensely.
“Hey, it’s a cool spot,” he says, with a sparkle in his eyes, an adolescent grin. “It’s fun and it makes a lot of people happy.”
Canfield greets many of the Boardwalk employees we encounter with a nod or friendly hello. It feels genuine and unforced. “Charles’ leadership style is to treat his employees like part of the family,” says Kris Reyes, the Santa Cruz Seaside Company’s director of external affairs and strategic development. “There is absolutely zero ego with Charles. Everything is about the Boardwalk and the employees and working to make the park better year after year.”
When Canfield talks about the Boardwalk’s accomplishments—and there have been many since the park celebrated its centennial in 2007, including being named the recipient of the Golden Ticket Award for the Best Seaside Amusement Park in the world—he often directs credit to his staff or uses the plural “we.” “It’s not about him and never has been,” says Reyes. “It’s about the team.”
Charles Canfield’s earliest memories of the Boardwalk are of coming to it with his family for Fourth of July fireworks celebrations in the late 1940s, when most of Santa Cruz would partake in the annual festivities, along with thousands of tourists from the sweltering inland valleys of California. We reminisce about the massive Independence Day crowds of our childhood and the mounting anticipation that always was in the air.
His most beloved spot (as was mine) was the old Fun House, an interior amusement center with a clown-face entrance that featured slick wooden slides, air blasts, distorted mirrors, rotating barrels and a large spinning wheel called “the Platter,” which was Canfield’s personal favorite. “You’d get on in the middle and hold onto someone and suddenly you’d be flying through the air together,” he laughs. “It was a little dangerous.”
When I announce that the Giant Dipper—with its high-rising, red-and-white scaffold-like frame and cars that descend at speeds up to 50-plus miles-per-hour—is looking a little intimidating, or even imposing, to me this morning, he responds with an assuring grin. “We’ll be alright.”
LANDMARK Did you know the Giant Dipper got its start downtown? PHOTO: Contributed
ROLLING THROUGH HISTORY
Roller coasters have long been an incredibly popular national pastime, from coast to coast, deep into the American heartland. Thrill seekers to this day can’t seem to get enough of those intestinal contractions and fear-infused sensations of being out of control.
Derived from “ice slides” that permeated Russia in the 18th century, and later, according to lore, by Russian soldiers sliding down mountains in France, the modern roller coaster gained popularity in the United States in the aftermath of the Civil War.
The roller coaster craze, counter to what has been generally portrayed, first hit Santa Cruz as early as 1885. It was located downtown, on what was known as the “Hodgdon lot,” on the east side of Pacific Avenue (near the juncture of Maple Street). “[Jacob] Schlueter, of Oakland is in town,” a report in the Santa Cruz Sentinel noted that spring, “erecting his Roller Coaster, or gravity railroad, a substitute for riding downhill on the snow with a sled. Music every night, after opening, which will take place early in June.”
The Sentinel, and its fervid competitor, the Santa Cruz Surf, competed for info on its development. “Work was commenced on the roller coaster this morning,” the Surf noted a few days later. “It will take about ten days to complete the structure. The track of the roller coaster will be about 500 feet in circumference and the highest point about 24 feet from the ground. At night the grounds and coaster will be illuminated by the electric light.” Total cost of the project was $600.
The ride was extremely popular. On the Fourth of July weekend, the Sentinel published a front-page poem titled “The Roller Coaster,” written by R.M. Coates exclusively for the paper. It concluded:
A one-eyed man, with crooked leg,
Upon the cushion sat.
And as he darted through the air,
He lost his Derby hat.
I had no money in my purse;
My watch I put in soak;
Then rode the coaster up and down,
Till I was fairly broke.
By October of the following year, however, the Sentinel reported that “the roller coaster would be removed to the grounds back of the bathhouses [in Beach Flats], before the opening of the next summer season.” By winter of the following year, a one-sentence notice in the Surf declared that “the old roller coaster has been torn down and sold for lumber.”
It never made it to the beach.
RIDE THE RAILS
A little more than two decades later, on Sunday, May 31, 1908, above-the-fold headlines in the Sentinel declared “THAT ONE OF THE GREATEST OF SCENIC RAILWAYS” in the world would be coming to the Santa Cruz waterfront, at a cost of $35,000. It was to be built by the prestigious L.A. Thompson Scenic Railroad Company out of New York City, with a straight track running nearly 1,050 feet—making it the longest ride of its kind in the U.S. at that time.
An Ohio-born grocery store operator named LaMarcus Adna Thompson had developed a passion for gravity rides dating back to the 1880s. He combined his business skills with a fundamental understanding of the laws of gravity and inertia to fashion a global empire. He would be called the “Father of the American Roller Coaster” and would eventually have six so-called “scenic rides” on Coney Island alone.
Thompson was a perfect match for the Boardwalk’s reigning impresario, Fred W. Swanton (see Good Times, June 27, 2012), who was trumpeting the wonders and excitements of his beachfront amusement park and casino throughout the West. “It is already apparent,” the Sentinel reported, “[that] Thompson’s proposed ride will be a very graceful one, as the curves already constructed are beautiful.”
The Scenic Railway became an instant hit, and it outlasted the extravagant Swanton, who, in 1912, was unceremoniously ousted from his position with what was then known as the Beach Company. By 1915, the financially bereft enterprise was reconstituted as the Santa Cruz Seaside Company, with Swanton persona non grata anywhere near the waterfront.
UPS AND DOWNS
And so it was that in 1923 another beachfront entrepreneur with unbridled ambition came to town. Arthur Looff, the 35-year-old son of the famed carousel wood-carver, Charles I.D. Looff, who had fashioned the Boardwalk’s celebrated Merry-Go-Round in 1911, proposed a larger, much more exciting replacement to the Scenic Railway: the Giant Dipper, his biggest project to date (it had a sibling coaster in San Francisco known as the “Big Dipper”). He envisioned a “combination earthquake, balloon ascension and aeroplane drop.”
My friend Ted Whiting III, the Boardwalk’s former vice president of Legacy Affairs (and who remains its unofficial historian), has always emphasized the significance of “concessionaires” in the Seaside Company’s history. Private entrepreneurs leased space or land at the Boardwalk for their own subsidiary enterprises; the Seaside Company, especially in its early years, left the cost of risky innovations to others. The Dipper was no exception.
As a result, the Seaside Company did not fund nor construct the Giant Dipper—Arthur Looff did. In February of 1924, the Santa Cruz Evening News proclaimed: “Arthur Looff, the owner and builder, is one of the foremost men in the amusement world of the Pacific coast, with a long record of successful operations. The amusement devices he has built have shown continuous improvement so that we are assured of the very latest and most thrilling ride on the coast.”
Visitors swarmed from all over to ride the coaster. By the summer of 1928, revenues had grown considerably. But the Wall Street Crash of October 1929 and the ensuing Great Depression cut Boardwalk revenues substantially in ensuing years. The accruing interest on Looff’s initial $60,000 investment, along with his lease, became too much to bear. By 1933, Looff initially threatened to move the ride to Long Beach, then called it quits and sold his once crown jewel for what was rumored to be a dime on the dollar. But the Dipper now had a permanent home—and permanent ownership.
HIGH MAINTENANCE
Nearly 70 million riders since its opening a century ago, the Dipper has undergone very few modifications over the years. The one major change was the installation, in 1984, of a pair of new trains, built by Morgan Manufacturing of Scotts Valley, which embrace both the classic look of woodies and the blessings of modern technology.
The secret sauce of the Dipper is that each and every day a crew of six special mechanics work the track and various mechanics of the operation; there’s never a moment when the roller coaster is running that one of them isn’t on hand.
As Canfield and I approach out destination, we are greeted by a pair of sturdy young men—Eddie Ernes, a graduate of San Lorenzo Valley High who serves as supervisor of the mechanics crew, and Neil Kunkel, a graduate of Santa Cruz High who I recognize as an all-league catcher from two decades ago.
Each morning, several hours before the ride opens to the general public, Kunkel explains, the crew covers the entire length of the tracks looking for any possible malfunction or hint of structural imperfection. “It’s a 100-year-old framework, made almost entirely of wood,” Ernes says. “While virtually every inch has been replaced from time to time, it’s still vulnerable. We’re vigilant every second of the day.” There’s never been an accident caused by either a mechanical or structural failure during its 100-year-history, and Ernes and his crew intend to keep it that way.
Sometimes these days I feel as though I’m put together with rubber bands and glue and could use a little maintenance myself. As I approach my 70th birthday—and after more than a few bouts with mortality—I’m a little concerned that I may implode or simply fall apart on the upcoming ride. Talking to Charles and the enthusiastic mechanics has given me a new confidence, and I jump into the train ready for a new adventure.
The first 15 seconds or so are encased in a tunnel of darkness as you pull up to Lift Hill. The climb is everything I’ve always remembered, slow, steady, with the clankity-clank, rat-tat-tat of the thick pulley chain beating out the soundtrack to the approach. The grand view at the top is still magnificently panoramic, and then there is that first rush down the hill (what Looff called the “Aeroplane Drop”) and the hard centrifugal pull to the left of the hairpin turn and a constant flow of adrenalin. At first, I held on tight, but once I realized no body parts were about to fly off, I lifted my hands up in the air for the final sprint.
It’s thrilling! It’s life affirming! It’s fun! What an absolute rush!
And then it’s over. Six decades after my first ride I realize that the 100-year-old Giant Dipper was providing me with another rite of passage, albeit of a different sort. At 9 years old, I had my life before me, clueless about what to expect and why. I couldn’t see beyond that first turn. Today, it’s mostly the other way. The gravitational forces and laws of mortality hit us all. At some point we all take our last ride on the Dipper. But the one this morning, I feel fairly confident, will not be mine. Knock wood. There’s still more track ahead.
Special thanks to Seaside Company archivist Jessie Durant for providing archival photographs and documents for this story.
For a majority of its 92-year-history, the Downtown Santa Cruz County Veterans Memorial Building has provided a gathering place for veterans and the community.
From Alcoholics Anonymous meetings to weekly yoga, meditation sessions to fencing classes, along with weekly food pantries, the Vets Hall—as it’s known by locals—carries the veterans’ mission to serve.
And once in a while Santa Cruz has the opportunity to give back to a venue that has given so much over the decades.
This month the Vets Hall is hosting not one but three separate fundraisers—all organized by locals—to raise money for building and equipment upgrades. An essential part of the nonprofit’s income, the money made from shows and renting rooms goes directly back into programs servicing veterans and the houseless community.
“It’s amazing to see—across all three shows—how many people are willing to give back to a place that gives back to not only the music community but others as well,” says Joel Haston, the Vets Hall events coordinator and interim building manager.
On May 3, the first fundraiser kicked off with a circle pit with local punk and metal bands: Worship, I Don’t Wanna Hear It, Give You Nothing, Nothing Over Silence, Casino Youth, Slam and Intrusive.
On May 5, things were a little more laid back and irie with 831 Love Benefit, an all-reggae night featuring True Zion, JR Rankin, Valley Roots, Ancestree and other acts.
The trio of fundraisers culminates May 17 in an eclectic festival starting at 4pm with 16 bands, local comedians, art and food vendors, info booths from local nonprofits, and a burlesque show. The entire event is all ages, except for the burlesque show, which will be 18-plus and require a valid ID.
Like many Santa Cruzans, fundraiser organizer Jesse Kenneth Cotu Williams has a lifetime of memories at the downtown establishment dating back to his days as a punk kid, or “grom.”
“I remember seeing the Suicide Machines in the [Vets Hall] basement in ’96 or ’97,” he recalls.
Two stages—the main hall stage and the Starving Musician stage upstairs—will host Perch, Diggin’ Trails, The Randy Savages, Boss’s Daughter, Thanks Buddy, Rabbit Truck and Outpatient X.
There will be information tables for nonprofits like the Santa Cruz Animal Shelter along with art collectives.
“Especially now, when everything [downtown] is in flux with development, it’s crucial to keep our anchor venues and spaces open, says Artist & Info Coordinator Rosebud Widmann.
“We really have an eclectic offering of different creative worlds from many different genres of music and types of art,” she explains. “I’m very excited for people to meet one another and inspire each other.”
Along with being a community space, the Veterans Memorial Building is—first and foremost—a place for United States vets to reintegrate and better their lives after service.
The nonprofit also oversees the six-acre Veterans Village in Ben Lomond, which houses 11 people in 10 cabins. The Village is hoping to double its residency with the addition of new cabins.
“Without the services it’s just a regular apartment complex,” Executive Director Keith Collins says. “For permanent supportive housing, our veterans need the services so they can retain the housing and have enriched lives.”
Benefit show 4:30-10pm at 846 Front St, Santa Cruz. $20 suggested donation.
Getting picked in an immigration lottery system in Fiji, where he was born, paved the way for Imran Mohammed to come to the U.S. and earn his citizenship in 2006. Having grown up in the kitchen cooking with his mom, he had a passion for food.
Mohammed also aspired to one day own a business, and was able to bring all that together when he and his wife, Anahi, purchased the Strawberry Patch Cafe two months ago. Imran describes the ambiance as an homage to Watsonville culture, bright colors paired with lively music amidst a mix of modern and country vibes. The menu is rife with American classics influenced by Mexican and Indian cuisines.
The breakfast burritos with housemade salsa and Indian-spiced potatoes are a hit, and the pastries include banana bread, carrot and coffee cakes. Lunches start with the paninis, like the Pavo Mia with roasted turkey, caramelized onion, baby pickles and Swiss cheese, and the Jamonella with ham, Gruyère cheese and arugula. Salad choices abound with local organic produce and house made dressings.
Describe your culinary roots?
IMRAN MOHAMMED: Part of it comes from my Indian culture and my mother. I grew up spending a lot of time in the kitchen with my mom and watching Food Network. We would take recipes we saw and test them out for ourselves, and this really ignited in me a passion for cooking. It’s really about making people happy, and my wife feels the same way about food. I’ve found my culture and her Hispanic culture have inspired me to bring more diverse flavors into the food we serve. And we have an amazing staff that supports us, coaches us and helps us grow the business.
What’s next for the business?
We want to bring back artisan pizzas, which were served here years ago, cooked in an outdoor oven on our patio that will produce a delicious pizza. And we also plan to offer boba tea, add more color and seating, and put on live events.
Open 6:30am-4pm (7am Sat.-Sun). 734 E. Lake Ave., Watsonville, 831-722-0480; strawberrypatchcafe.com.
A proposed residential-commercial building by the clock tower downtown is 18 stories high.
Would you embrace it, tolerate it or fight it?
NICOL SCHMIED
Fight it. It looks nice already, and we don’t need more towering things that are too big. I like that the sun shines on the clocktower, and with that building, who knows? We already have too many big buildings that are coming up. —Nicol Schmied, 51, Teacher
NORBERT SCHMIED
Fight it, definitely. We need lower-income homes, I get all that. We need to go one step at a time. Right now we’re going five steps at a time.
—Norbert Schmied, 52, Managing Director
MICHELLE BRILL
Esthetically I would be against it, but purposefully, I would want to know exactly what would be in the building, like services or things that would help the city.
—Michelle Brill, 51, Sales
TYLER ZINN
It’s alarming and conflicting, if our one option is to build higher. We have an issue, people are homeless. But it won’t look pleasant or historical like Santa Cruz was. They’re building “affordable houses,” but not for my income.
—Tyler Zinn, 41, Jewelry
KELLIE MURPHY
I would fight it, they shouldn’t put that big of a building there.
—Kellie Murphy, 64, Business Owner
KENYON BLOOMQUIST
I think it would be an eyesore. It looks like San Jose, and I don’t like San Jose. Enforce the height limits and see if we can nix it. I think it’s ridiculous and won’t go through, so it’s not worth worrying about.
In March our noteworthy hometown earned a new ranking on a short list of 11 Blue Zone cities in all the US, second only to Boulder, Colorado—according to a recent assessment by online wellness platform Aging.com.
This new nomination has little to do with water. Instead, the term relates to Live to 100: Secrets of the Blue Zones, a 2023 Netflix documentary. The term “Blue Zones” was coined by Dan Buettner, a seasoned explorer, journalist and National Geographic Fellow who began noticing patterns during his worldwide travels.
In 2000 his research led him to Okinawa, Japan, drawn by its reputation for longevity. Inspired by what he discovered there, Buettner set off on a global quest with a National Geographic–backed team of scientists and demographers to identify the small set of communities where people live longer, healthier lives.
Armed with data and insights gleaned from interviews with centenarians, Buettner and his team identified five regions that stood out for their remarkable combination of longevity and high quality of life in old age: Sardinia, Italy; Okinawa, Japan; Nicoya, Costa Rica; Icaria, Greece; and finally Loma Linda, California.
Buettner’s research shows there’s no pill or supplement or magic diet; it’s a cluster of mutually supportive things that keep these communities aligned to wellness habits associated with long, healthy lives.
To be clear, Santa Cruz was not named a Blue Zone by the official decision makers. Instead the website lists Santa Cruz as the second happiest city, another worthy merit.
But according to the researchers at Aging.com, Santa Cruz is an exemplary city for Blue Zone status. Preservation and restoration efforts in this city over the last 50 years have allowed for the presence of prevalent community gathering points, a bustling, prestigious and walkable college community, and strong tourist attractions.
A few of the key points the official blue zones have in common:
Diet: Blue Zone residents typically follow plant-based, Mediterranean-style diets rich in fruits, vegetables, whole grains, legumes and nuts. These foods are high in fiber, vitamins, minerals and antioxidants, which support overall health and reduce the risk of chronic diseases such as heart disease, diabetes and cancer.
Physical Activity: Regular, moderate physical activity is the norm in Blue Zone communities. Instead of hitting the gym, it’s more common to engage in natural forms of exercise such as walking, gardening and manual labor, which help maintain cardiovascular health, muscle strength and mobility.
Social Connections: Strong social networks and close-knit communities. Residents enjoy regular social interactions with family, friends and neighbors, which provide emotional support, reduce stress and foster a sense of belonging and purpose.
Purpose and Meaning: Blue Zone inhabitants maintain active lifestyles and engage in activities that align with their values and passions, whether it’s contributing to their community, pursuing lifelong interests, or practicing spiritual or cultural traditions. Having a sense of purpose is linked to lower levels of stress, greater resilience, and improved mental and emotional well-being.
Clearly, it’s less about geography than healthy habits. Hugged by redwood-forested mountains, Santa Cruz County has 29 miles of beaches and an extraordinary number of state parks, dozens of trails for hiking and biking, and local farmers markets.
So to the question, is Santa Cruz a Blue Zone? We don’t need an official stamp to know the answer, and maybe it’s better to keep it that way.
Anyone ready to dive into the Mediterranean lifestyle is welcome at my new three-week workshop at Café LaMarea in Capitola. Visit ElizabethBorelli.com for details.
Spring is a glorious time to visit Silver Mountain Vineyards. Vines are green and lush, and beautiful panoramic views over fields and mountains are breathtaking. Owner and winemaker Jerold O’Brien leads guests on a tasting of marvelous bottles. Bring a picnic and enjoy a spectacular view!
Although O’Brien grows his own chardonnay grapes in his organic vineyards, fruit for this 2019 Chardonnay ($40) is from the well-known Tondré Grapefield in the esteemed Santa Lucia Highlands appellation. And kudos go to vintner Anthony Craig, whose experienced hand has turned out many fine wines.
Tondré Grapefield is named after Tondré Alarid, who farmed the land as a sheep pasture in the 1950s. Now the fertile soil is a prime grape-growing region for chardonnay and varieties that benefit from a longer hang time, resulting in maximum fruit flavor.
One of our favorites spots for breakfast and brunch is Heavenly Roadside Café. Chef Danny Voutos has been preparing the most scrumptious dishes for years, and he always gets it right. His scrambles and omelets are outstanding, and folks travel from miles around for his house specialties. The café is run by Danny, his wife, Marty, and their daughter, Isabella. It’s a family affair, and it shows in their attentive service—always taking care of regulars and newcomers alike. Treat your mother for her holiday. Danny’s burgers are delicious. Try the “Roger Federer” with mushrooms and Swiss cheese.
Heavenly Roadside Café, 1210 Mt. Hermon Road, Scotts Valley, 831-335-1210. Open 7:30am to 2pm. heavenlyroadsidecafe.com
...a place like Davenport, population 650, is pretty much impossible to duplicate. The same applies to one of those establishments, Whale City Bakery Bar & Grill...
Always … Patsy Cline is the brainchild of musical entrepreneur Ted Swindley, and this musical show fits the talents of lead performer and Jewel founder Julie James from her bouffant hairdo down to her kitten heels.
The band’s name suggests a sound that draws from the complex and intricate rhythms of the Africa. But while Seattle-based Polyrhythmics began with Afrobeat as a musical starting point
Riding the Giant Dipper is a rite of passage for virtually every young kid who grows up in or around Santa Cruz. You need to be 50 inches tall to get on the ride—a little over four feet
For a majority of its 92-year-history, the Downtown Santa Cruz County Veterans Memorial Building has provided a gathering place for veterans and the community. From Alcoholics Anonymous meetings to weekly yoga
