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Fools rush in
where angels fear to tread.
Dev.
Hults
Editorial
^ O O N S
Now & Then
T ID C -^
A pril - Tides
WASHINGTON ANU OREGON COAST TIDES
STANDARD TIM E
H IG H TID E S
What fools we mortals be. A fool and his money, how did
they get together in the first place? Where do angels fearlessly
tread? Yes, obviously Spring is upon us, and nothing can be
done. Young men’s thoughts and old men’s memories turn to
love. And we are all fools when it comes to love. Your
beloved editor is no exception. We would like to drop the
third person plural that we regularly use in our editorials for
this one time. We use third person for a lot of reasons;
tradition, to protest the common overuse of the singular
pronoun ‘I ” and to indicate that the opinions expressed are
from more than one person. But this is a purely personal
piece about the most personal of feelings, love.
Love; it is the subject of many an essay, poem and novel.
It seems a pity that English has but one word for such a
spectrum of experiences. I’ve been told the French have
several words, differentiating between love of a parent for a
child, a lover, a friend, of a god, etc... And it is that ‘etc.’,
that I would like to comment upon. Specifically the love of
art. I, myself, make art, I perform art, I collect art, & I
promote art in all of its wondrous forms. It and the people
who create it are the love of my life. I have found that if I
meet an attractive intelligent person who has neither talent nor
passion for some art, I am really not interested in having much
of a relationship with them. 1 don’t dislike them, I respect
them, I just don’t understand them. But if they share my
passion, I instantly care for them, no matter their physical,
social, economic, or intellectual condition. When you see
someone you love, there is. I’m sure, a chemical reaction in
your body. The pleasure juices flow. When I hear good
music, look at beautiful art, I have a serious Pavlovian
reaction. I’m hungry. I’m homy. I’m happy. I’m eating.
I’m in love. I take the beautiful thing someone created and
bring it into my body, through my eyes, my ears, my hands,
even my mouth, with the art of cooking. There it will remain
and live and give me pleasure until I die. How can I possibly
express the pleasure I have had from the arts since I was bom?
So, this must make me an ‘art-ophile’? Or an ‘art junkie’? Or
just a simple Art Lover. I know my condition is not rare, but
it doesn’t seem to be the ‘norm’. People on average don’t
spend a lot on what I call art. Entertainment yes, art no. There
is even an ongoing debate about doing away with the National
Endowment for the Arts. Try to raise some money for an art
project these days. It’s not easy. The grant system is
complex, and the legendary ‘patrons’ are few and far between.
Not just in the newer fields that challenge the limits, but the
‘establishment’ arts; symphonies, museums, literature all are
struggling to survive. I don’t understand. I really don’t, and it
breaks my heart. As regular readers know I and a few friends
started a non-profit called the Left Coast Group to publish
works by writers and artists from what I call the upper left
edge of America. I have some experience in fund raising and
with a great deal of help from the community the Left Coast
Group has managed to produce two books so far Uncle
Mike’s Guide to the Real Oregon Coast, with disturbing
illustrations by Steve McLeod and Letters to Uncle Mike, by
Michael Burgess. I am so proud of what we did, but it is an
exhausting job. I now face the same task again. I have the
completed manuscript for Sally I^ackaff* s Wildlife on the Edge,
a beautiful collection of Sally’s Wildlife columns from the
Upper Left Edge and the Daily Astorian, spanning five years.
It is full of delicate pen and ink drawings of the flora and fauna
of our region, all hand lettered, including the blurbs on the
back in Ursula l x Guin’s, and Cannon Beach Gallery’s Jane
Davidson's own hands; and is not only lovely to look at but is
a fun read and a useful tool, as Sally has included an index and
bibliography. The second volume I want to publish is also
illustrated by Sally Ixckaff (yes I dearly love her art), and it is
also beautiful. It is a first novel by the author of many a
history text, Charles Le Guin, Ursula’s husband. Called North
Coast, it is the story of two young men from different back
grounds who are trying to understand themselves and their
worlds. I am also printing some small chap books I have
permission from Don Berry to publish an edition of his essay
How to Dress a Nymph. and there a several poets who deserve
a wider audience. I know that I should be spending more time
working at my bookstore, but I love seeing the piles of paper
turn into books. I love to watch people read them and smile,
ContmuaA on oasa
DATE
A Walk in the Jag Wood
by Lauren Allsop
A long time ago when I was nine, my mom and dad took
me to the zoo. We went to the alligators. I loved the
alligators because of their devilish grins. Then, we
went to the polar bears.
As we were going into the polar bear cave, I decided
to run around in circles until I got very, very
dizzy. I tripped on a rock and hit my head on a
cement wall. I cracked my head open and got knocked
out.
While I was knocked out, I had a dream that I was in
a weird place. A place you only read about in books.
Then I saw a man. He was wearing velvet: a red velvet
shirt; blue velvet pants; a black velvet cloak; and
his shoes were made of sheep skin with leather laces.
I decide to follow him to his house. While 1 was
following him, his golden necklace fell off. I picked
it up and examined it.
It had a picture of a man on it. The man was Duke
Grover. I learned about him in school. "But he was on
money in medieval time! Oh no! I went back in time!!"
I shouted.
"Well," I thought, I’m dreaming, so I better return
the necklace to him." So, I followed him to his
house.
When I got to his house, I opened the door and no one
was there.
It was getting dark. I had to go When I opened the
door, there was a very, very big jaguar in front of
me. It started to growl at me. I was so scared, I
couldn't even scream. I picked up the necklace and
chucked it at her. She started to dart.
So I decided to get some weapons, while I could. 1
ran around the house trying to find something to
defend myself with. I ran into the main room. There
was a knife by the fireplace. I grabbed it.
I started to run out of the house into the night. I
ran as fast as I could go, so that "thing" couldn't
get me. Suddenly I came to a clearing. I decided to
sleep there for the night.
When the sun came up, I heard horses coming toward
me. I leapt to my feet.
A man on horseback, carrying large guns, came up to
me. He looked like Duke Grover.
He asked if I had seen an orange cat with black
spots. I said, "Yes." "Where?" he asked. "Over
there," I said. I pointed in the wrong direction
because I love animals and I couldn't let this man
kill this beautiful creature.
So, off he rode in the wrong direction.
I decided to go back to the man's house to return tbe
knife to him. So, I followed the path to his house.
When I came up to the house, I decided to look in the
window first. I saw the man sleeping in his bed. He
looked up and motioned for me to come in.
So, I came in and he started telling me his story
while we ate biscuits and drank tea. He told me how
his dear friend, Laura, can change herself into
animals. Most of the time she is a unicorn.
"Whoa, a unicorn!" I interrupted. "Yes, a unicorn,"
he laughed as he spoke.
"But I saw a jaguar here yesterday," I said. "Oh,
well she changes into a jaguar when she guards my
house while I'm away," he said.
"You have to go into the woods to find her and warn
her about Duke Grover," he said "How do you know
that I met Duke Grover?," I asked
"I have a crystal ball that M ura gave me. It allows
me to see everything in this land," he said.
"But why do you want me to find I aura9 Can't you find
her?," I asked. He said, "No, because I can only
leave my house during a certain time.
"Okay, I will do your deed," I said.
So, I went off on my journey. I searched for hours in
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— ------
The Cubs are begining their home season April 3rd,
and during the Seventh inning stretch Harry Caray’s
widow will lead the fans in singing “Take Me Out to
the Ballgame”. The team looks pretty good and yes,
this could be the year Go Cubbies!!
the woods. I decided to go on just a little longer
before turning back.
Then, I saw a beautiful, little cottage. I thought,
"Great, I have found the place I've been looking
for."
There was a whole bunch of sunlight on this place It
made the rest of the woods look dark, gloomy and
scary. Right as I was walking up the path to the
door, a unicorn came out from behind the little
cottage. It looked so beautiful.
1 said, "Laura?"
The unicorn started to change into a woman She said,
"Yes! That is my name. How do you know that?"
"I am friends with the man with the beautiful, golden
necklace. He sent me to look for you," I said
"Oh, you mean Merlin. So, you're friends with him,
eh?," she said.
"Oh yes, he sent me to warn you about Duke Grover He
is very dangerous. He has very big guns. I saw them
today. They are huge! Bazookas practically! And he
was looking for a jaguar," I said.
Laura was shocked! Her eyes grew huge! "Did you tell
him that you saw me?"
"Yes," I said.
"Which way did you send him?," she asked
"Oh, the wrong way, of course," I replied
Mura sighed, "Phew!"
After we finished talking, 1 ran back to Merlin's
house. I told him that I had done his deed and asked
him to return me home.
"Oh, yes," he said. "Go over and stand by the
fireplace And pick up that knife." he told me
C onTnued on
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UPPCR. LEFT Cb&E APRIL W8
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