Dispatches

OBVIOUSLY, the REB is issuing dispatches these days. She's making her way to Squaw Valley (see map), cuz she's a big cheese in the celebrated conference they hold there each summer. (She co-cheeses the writers' workshop.)

Limber Lou is tagging along. Before he left OC, I gave the fellow a camera (a Fisher Price digital with a Hasbro lense and Whammo viewfinder), but I forgot to tell 'im that he's supposed to send me photos of his adventures. He's real smart though. He'll figure it out.

Yesterday, I mentioned Reb's Squaw Valley gig to my folks, so naturally[?], they assumed that I was headed up there (not), and, after a while, my dad came around with maps and Auto Club books. "Here," he said.

Well, hell, maybe I should go up there. I'm going up north to visit my sister soon anyway, so maybe I could swing by.

I asked my mom, "when we did all that driving and camping when I was a kid, did we ever get to Squaw Valley?" Sure, she said. She commenced recounting our adventures there. But after a while, it became clear that she was talking about Heep Big Valley or Indian Brave Valley or something. Not Squaw Valley.

I'm surprised she didn't launch into a discussion of "Falling Rocks" signs.

"They're named after an Indian, you know. You're supposed to watch for 'im."

Squaw Valley is just six miles from Tahoe City (according to AAA), and so I asked my mom, "We did visit Lake Tahoe, right?" My dad then launched into a dissertation on the water of the lake: "At a certain depth, the water is below freezing, but it's still a liquid because of the pressure."

OK. If it ain't true, it oughta be, I always say.

My mom said, "Yes, we drove around the whole lake! Remember? With Opa!" ("Opa" is German for "grandpa.")

I kinda remembered. I do remember the lake. It's beautiful. It's very deep. I looked it up.


"I remember that it was so cold!" added mom.

I thought we went up there in the summer?, I said.

"Yes, during the summer. But it was incredibly cold!" repeated mom. She shivered.

After a few minutes, I realized that she wasn't talking about the lake's weather. Nope. She was talking about the lake's water.

Later, apropos of nothing, she handed me a bone.

Sunny says, "Hey."

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word now
And you say, for what reason?
And he says, how?
And you say, what does this mean?
And he screams back, you're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

—from Dylan's "Ballad of a Thin Man"

P.S.:

Could someone tell me if the building at right is Cal's Warren Hall? Good Lord, I hope not.