7/30/06, 0652 (and later at 1028), Starbuck’s, Rose Garden District, San Jose, CA – I woke this morning to the smell of…is that garlic?

Indeed, as predicted by my brother and sister-in-law, the nearby Gilroy Garlic Festival filled the air with the aromatic stench of the “stinking rose.” To be honest, it was a wonderful sensation, and a unique way to start the day. It was, as is the case daily, offset by the sound of airliners taking off from nearby San Jose International Airport, but that’s to be expected.

I started out this morning by writing that “peace, serenity, and spiritual enlightenment are not going to be found in San Jose, Santa Cruz, Monterey, Carmel, or along 17 Mile Drive.” Since 0652, however, I strolled through the gardens of the Rosicrucian Egyptian Museum and the San Jose Municipal Rose Garden, both of which offered, if not serenity, an oasis from the nearby hustle and bustle of San Jose awaking from its Sunday morning slumber.

I returned via University Ave, where some of the more stately residences of “old San Jose” are located, including a Frank Lloyd Wright house (which are always worthy of study).

The only true distraction was the sound of what sounded like an angry hornet’s nest off in the distance. I quickly realized it was the sound of the San Jose Grand Prix, which is taking place downtown.

So, I must amend my earlier statement and establish that there are areas where relative peace and quiet are attainable in San Jose. It’s not the dead silence I sometimes experience in Cedar Creek, but then again I’m not surrounded by such splendor and beauty there either (except when my lovely wife is around, that is).

My hosts here in SJ have been gracious, generous, and willing to show me around and for that I am grateful. It’s been very pleasant catching up and spending time with family. The food – both home-cooked and from restaurants – has been worth mentioning. Between the grilled filet mignon and roasted red potatoes prepared and served on my hosts’ backyard patio, the seafood lunch (scallops and shrimp in a tomato-based cream sauce over pasta) and Anchor Steams on the wharf at Monterey, and the wine, Sam Adams Black Lager (!!), and appetizers at Santana Row
(see http://www.santanarow.com/dining/?id=152 and http://www.santanarow.com/dining/?id=143) , I’ve been living (or at least eating) “the good life” here.

To be honest, no one – least of all me – should expect the Bay Area to provide an environment for solitude. As I stated in my introduction, I wasn’t seeking solitude until after Napa Valley.

Central/Northern California has, thus far, fulfilled expectations, with the exception of the surprising amount of agriculture in the deserts southeast of the Bay Area and the barren mountains just east of San Jose. San Jose is bounded by mountains that are roughly on its east and west. The mountains east are brown and barren. The mountains on the west are green, lush, and for the most part have that ancient, untouched quality that I expect I’ll see as I head north into the coastal forests.

San Jose itself is a mixture of old California (canning was the mainstay industry here) and the explosive Silicon Valley businesses that have enriched the bank accounts and tax rolls of the area. My hosts live in the relatively peaceful (save their proximity to the airport) Rose District, which is a beautiful and, for the most part, very old part of town. My brief walk showed this part of San Jose to be quite idyllic, the very model of a peaceful, safe, “all-American” community. It’s comforting to know such communities still exist. No, it's not a gated community. That's the point.

The weather, which had so concerned my hosts and a good portion of this part of California (which had suffered historic and highly-unusual high temps recently), broke the day I arrived and has been most pleasing since. I experienced some significant climate changes yesterday during our trip to the coast. When we departed the Monterey Bay area, the temp was 60°. Upon arriving back in San Jose, it was 86°. Clouds and fog shrouded a good portion of the scenery yesterday, but it was striking nonetheless. Today is damn near perfect.

Some notes from yesterday’s drive: The surfer dude culture (mixed with a surprising east coast boardwalk/Myrtle Beach flavor) of Santa Cruz was in complete contrast to the thick forests, links style, ocean-side golf courses (including the super-exclusive Pebble Beach and super-duper exclusive Cypress Point), and stunning multi-million dollar homes along 17 Mile Drive, which winds (literally) through the peninsula that forms the southern border of Monterey Bay.

Carmel was somewhat of a surprise in that it was far more exclusive and, well, “hoity-toity” than I expected. I mean, a town that would elect Clint Eastwood as its mayor? Perhaps those rough and tumble days are in its past. It’s pretty upscale and cultured now, and for all I know, it always has been.

Even more contrast awaited me in the vast coastal agricultural area between Santa Cruz and Monterey. I saw the very fields that grow the strawberries I buy in Texas, along with numerous other crops. My brother mentioned that the area was so poor that they were forced to close a local library either established by or named for American icon-writer John Steinbeck. As the story goes, actor-comedian Bill Murray won $50,000 from a celebrity golf tournament and donated his winnings to reopen the library.

The surfers and volleyball players, barking sea lions, and relatively calm Pacific waters will be my memory of Santa Cruz. It’s unfortunate that I was not able to get to the aquarium at Monterey, otherwise I’d have had more to say about it than “nice bay” and “good lunch.” Time was slipping away from us, though. Perhaps the aquarium will be on the next journey (with my lovely wife, whom I miss terribly).

Upon our return to San Jose, we cleaned up and went to the previously mentioned Santana Row, which is a fascinating Disney-like faux “village” designed to look like a small European town full of shops, restaurants, hotels, and loft condos. It reminded me of some of the new casinos in Las Vegas that have vast “malls” inside, except this was outdoors (with a small amount of car traffic creeping through) and far more vibrant. We sipped wine outside and had appetizers and black lagers at the Mediterranean restaurant before returning home for the evening. As expected, there are way too many good-looking people here. The parade of people we watched was like something out of The OC or 90210. It's mildly disturbing, but you can't help but be slightly envious. Damn Californians...

Today, I begin packing the car (a Malibu, ironically enough) for tomorrow’s short-but-no-doubt-“worlds away” move to San Francisco.

Stick out

Why I'm Doing This

In many ways, I am a very fortunate person.

I am married to an angel, a woman possessing such uncommon intelligence, beauty (both inner and outer), grace, depth, strength, and ability to love that my cup runneth over. She has taught me a whole other way of living, of viewing life, and helped me to discover a reservoir of inner strength I had no idea existed.

I am stepfather to two fine young men who have both, in their own ways, helped strengthen my patience, reshuffle my priorities (for the better), develop my humility, my senses of wonder, humor, trust, and adventure, and forever altered (again, for the better) my role in life. I suspect they have had a greater, more positive impact on my life - and my outlook on life - than I have had on theirs. Moving them from rural Ohio to metropolitan Central Texas at a highly critical age was pretty intense, in retrospect. How that will ultimately affect them is still a developing question. I hope, in the long run, it will be a positive thing for them both.

I was overdue for a life lesson and the boys were an integral part of this phase of my maturing.

I enjoy what I do for a living, though the circumstances under which I "do" it have caused a great deal of stress, anguish, and - for lack of a better word - "concern." Those concerns need to be addressed and I'm currently at a loss on how to proceed(see below reference to "acceptance").

I believe I possess an acceptable level of sanity, though - like a lot of people - I see around me a world seemingly gone insane and either unaware of the depth of its madness or unwilling to acknowledge it . This causes spiritual/ethical/moral reflection that, sadly, leads to conclusions that generate more questions than answers (and even more stress). At times, my brain can't hear my soul and vice versa, due to the conflicts I witness externally and feel internally, not to mention the extraneous noise that accompanies life in the early 21st century.

So, for an otherwise fortunate person, I feel an enormous amount of stress, conflict, and spiritual disconnect. At age 48, I expected to be on more solid ground as a human being than I am. I'm not teetering on the edge, nor can I see the edge from where I am (at least, I don't THINK I can...I may not be looking in the right direction). But, my "level of discomfort" with my inner workings (which directly affects my ability to deal with my outer workings) is in need of some maintenance, if not retooling.

A "reboot," if you will.

One of my oldest, closest friends and "advisors" once told me that "God speaks to us in silence." So, after a brief interlude visiting family in the Bay Area, and a few days in Wine Country (I am a wine snob), I'm seeking that silence, and with it, some eye-candy...in the form of stunning natural scenery. And while it may seem contradictory to establish and feed a blog during this journey, my primary intent is to listen...to the silence, to nature, to myself, to my body (I am pushing 50, after all), and to anyone with whom I happen to strike up a conversation along the way.

The entire northern California and SW Oregon coasts, Upper and Lower Rogue River valleys, Crater Lake/Ashland area, Whiskeytown/Trinity Alps/Shasta National Forest area, Lassen Volcanic National Park, and Feather Rivers area will be my sanctuary, my "fortress of solitude."

I hope to return the same person, but different. I don't expect to discover all the answers (though I suspect I'll settle on a few), but I hope to hone my questions and better understand what causes me to ask them (and discard a few that, because they are unanswerable, simply need to be retired). Perhaps most of all, I hope to regain a certain "mastery" I once possessed of the art of acceptance

If for no other reason, I do this because I am fortunate enough - no, BLESSED - to be married to an awe-inspiring woman and mother. She deserves better than I currently "am." I don't expect to be awe-inspiring when I return, but I hope to at least be inspired to be a better husband, friend, partner, and human being (and wine snob).

The stage is set. The reservations made. The bags are being packed. California, here I come.

Stick out.