Tuesday, March 18, 2014

Richmond—a Dazzling Discovery for History



View from Ford Point
I’m always willing to explore a destination, even one with as unsavory a reputation as Richmond, California. The place has been represented as the poster child for deteriorating neighborhoods, crime—sort of the worst of Oakland, air-lifted and plunked down a little farther north. Things are definitely changing.
The Convention and Visitor’s Bureau and Richmond Main Street Initiative are fighting back, and they mean business. There’s nothing like money to revitalize an area, but it means nothing if no one cares. I met more dedicated, sincere, hopeful people in the two days I spent in Richmond than I’ve seen in a long time. Most of the development is taking place in the northwest end of the city, near the artsy enclave of historic Point Richmond (a former railroad town developed in the 1890s), and around nearby Ford Point and Marina Bay.



Miller/Knox Park, Point Richmond

Point Richmond has been a cool spot for decades, and home prices there reflect it. Summer brings a compact farmer’s market with live music, and three of my favorite hang-outs, Hotel Mac (happy hour and food), the Up & Under (great pub food), and the Baltic (fun bar and great music) are open year round.








Photo courtesy of SS Red Oak Victory
The real prize in the area for historians, cyclists and strollers is the Ferry Point Loop & Shipyard 3 Trail in Point Richmond (about 5 miles) that passes the Miller/Knox Regional Shoreline, the S.S. Red Oak Victory (a WWII ship open for tours—and movies!--built in the shipyard), and the Marina Bay Trail near Ford Point (roughly 4.5 miles), that circles Marina Bay, following the coastline to the Central Ave. trailhead; the trail is marked by a WWII National Historical Park including Rosie the Riveter Museum (displays and excellent historical documentaries). The trails are connected by a series of city streets: Canal Boulevard, W. Cutting Blvd., Hoffman Blvd and Harbour Way South (about 2.5 miles). I didn’t think much about WWII—it seemed the distant past, though I knew my father served on a railroad battalion in France. The Rosie Museum’s films and exhibits helped that part of my history come to life. And a good cup of strong coffee from nearby assemble restaurant, sipped while watching sailboats on the bay made for a lovely day.
Mom, my brother, dad in uniform
Of course, it helps if your introduction to the city is a reception catered by assemble, with an evening’s worth of fine wines poured by the Rhone Rangers, held in the East Bay Center for the Performing Arts. The Rhone Rangers are a national affiliate group who grow and produce wines from grapes originally grown in the Rhone region of France. The work of two excellent vintners I sampled have tasting rooms in unusual places: Rosenblum Cellars in Alameda, and Bonny Doon in the scenic little enclave of Davenport, on Rte. 1 north of Santa Cruz. The East Bay Center, led by artistic director Jordan Simmons with dozens of classes in music, acting and other disciplines, would make a believer out of anyone—it’s that inspirational.
Photo courtesy of East Bay Center for the Performing Arts
NEXT: RICHMOND 2: A SECRET ROAD AND THE COOLEST B&B--IN A LIGHTHOUSE! ON AN ISLAND! FOGHORN INCLUDED...

Mind Travels 2 - Courtroom Sketches

During the courtroom drama over the last couple of months,  I made sketches of some of the players. Initially, it helped me remember who was who--then I became fascinated by the parade of personalities that took the stand or were involved in the trial some way. The judge, court deputy, some of the attorneys, a few witnesses and more are in the mix below. The original sketches have been destroyed as part of my obligation as a juror. The players below are not individually identified to protect their privacy:

 

 

 

 

Monday, March 17, 2014

Mind Travels - But is it Justice?


Many of you know my travels were interrupted between January 6  and the first week of March this year as I was selected to serve on a Federal jury. The criminal case involved three defendants (two humans and a corporation) and 22 counts involving international espionage, conspiracy, sale of trade secrets, income tax fraud and bankruptcy fraud. We’re talking China and TiO2 by chlorination process. TiO2 may mean nothing to you, but to the owners of the trade secrets in question, it’s worth billions. TiO2 (titanium dioxide) is a fine powder that’s an ingredient in everything white, including paint, porcelain, paper, and yes, the fillings in Oreo cookies and Twinkies and your teeth. 

There are five companies in the world who use this process, and one of them is E.I. DuPont, the U.S.’s major by-chlorination manufacturer, and one of the biggest honchos in the game. Much of this process is public knowledge—however, a few measurements within the plant build are closely guarded secrets.

Every day, 16 of us picked at random from more than 90 “candidates” listened to testimony by the FBI, IRS, and various experts and involved parties while examining about a third of nearly 3000 documents, pictures and engineering charts in evidence. I nodded off periodically, as did everyone, including the attorneys—sounds terrible, doesn’t it? At times I wondered if they were doing it on purpose. I learned a lot about the US judicial system.

After 16 weeks of testimony, I was informed I was first alternate—so I didn’t even get the chance to join deliberations. We all took notes during the trial, but our books were shredded at the end. The remaining 12 jurors were a motley group, among them a phone company employee, truck driver, a coach, a bus driver, a computer engineer, a librarian—smart, dedicated people, though no one had ever owned a business, worked in chemical engineering, or did sales presentations for a living. In other words, most of us were not remotely "peers" of the defendants.

In a trial, the only information a juror hears is what’s presented—so the strength of the case rests on the ability to pick and choose what to present, and cleverness in countering what the other side has presented—we’ve learned all this from TV. A lot of evidence is suppressed before the jury sits down (and sometimes during the trial). In real life, the government attorneys were eager, earnest, and massively outgunned by the defense attorneys, who were sharp and well-fortified with cash. The expert witnesses called by the prosecution (that’s the government, of course) limped along, second-rate picks by any yardstick. The defense dazzled with top echelon star witnesses (who were paid between $100K and $250K for their time). In my next life…

This case would never have come to trial, I believe, if DuPont hadn’t tried to set up a TiO2 plant in China and failed (supposedly because DuPont wanted to control the money and/or wanted to dump waste. Those reasons don’t make sense; if China wanted the trade secrets that went along with the manufacture of TiO2, they could have easily stolen them after the plant was built, then built their own plant without much danger of recrimination—something else was going on here). Mandarin-speaking defendant #1 and his company won the contract instead, claiming that he could duplicate the famous DuPont process, as he was consulting with former DuPont employees (defendant #2) without the theft of trade secrets—there was another former DuPont consultant, though the jury was told he died before the trial. Only after the trial did we learn he committed suicide.

Reminiscent of a two-year-old stomping his foot and shouting, "If I can't have it, nobody can", DuPont presented the FBI with an anonymous note (?!) claiming defendant #1 and a Chevron employee who had worked as a minor consultant for him were stealing trade secrets. The Chevron employee and his wife (close friends of defendant #1's family) lost their jobs and home, but they stayed out of prison—I suspect because he turned state’s evidence against defendant #1--could he have written the "anonymous" note? Either way, the FBI does force people to turn on their friends to save their own skins. In fact, if defendant #2 had turned, he probably wouldn’t be on trial. I honestly believe he thought he did nothing wrong.

Long story short, the jury convicted both defendants on all counts. If I were there, I would have fought to clear defendant #2 of conspiracy at least—I believe he was brought on board strictly for the dog-and-pony show to get the sale in China, a common business sales practice. I’ve used it myself. 

After learning of the suicide of the other consultant, I am even more convinced that defendant #2 wasn’t the one who brought in the incriminating charts and documents. He got painted by the same broad brush as defendant #1, who, yes, was guilty of income tax evasion and bankruptcy fraud to the tune of more than eight million bucks.

Justice is a relative term, and I’m not at all sure it was done in this case. Two families were destroyed, right or wrong. One thing I do know—don’t get on the sticky side of a major US corporation or the FBI. The former is making pillow talk with the latter, and the latter is full of eager, earnest, righteous people who can’t wait to make your life a misery, justified or not.

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

1Woman1World..2 Years!

Sunset from my driveway, February 2013
I've traveled around the world, and loved (nearly) every minute of it--and I'm happy to be home. I'm lucky enough to live in a fantastic place, the San Francisco Bay Area. I've lived here most of my life (thanks to my folks choosing this area to settle in when I was small), and have enjoyed a lot of local attractions. In addition, as a member of Bay Area Travel Writers (a professional group), I'm often invited to destinations and events that are off the radar of many locals and visitors--so I'm going to continue to review and share as many of these great activities and places with you in the coming year as I can--and who knows, I might throw in an exotic destination too, since I'm a gypsy at heart.

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Money Buys Happiness...


The vineyards are beautiful, even in winter

Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn


To end my year around the world on a high note, I chose to take myself to the Willow Stream Spa at the Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn for my birthday. The last time I was there was for my daughter’s high school graduation—we each choose two treatments (I had an herbal wrap and a massage, and she had a facial and massage). No doubt about it—it was an indulgence then and now.

As a die-hard researcher, I checked out all the local spas to see what each offered, including the Claremont in Berkeley, The Carneros Inn and Meadowood in the wine country. Luxury does not come cheap anywhere, but Sonoma Mission Inn offered the best options for the money. 
I booked the Guided Journey package ($385) that included a massage, chardonnay-olive oil-sugar polish and a pedicure among several choices. The services would have cost $165, $175 and $65 if purchased individually.
I drove up the morning of my birthday, anticipating a soak in the famous mineral water of the “bathing ritual” portion of the spa before my first treatment. I fondly remembered the pools and hot tub from my long-ago visit. After paying and asking for envelopes so I could tip in cash rather than add the “required” 18% tip for services to my credit card bill (I know it’s European and old-fashioned, but I believe in tipping according to service received), I popped down to the locker room (ultra clean and pleasant with showers, toilets and mirrored make-up room) and changed into my fluffy white robe and comfy slippers. There was supposed to be a concierge to show me around when I went downstairs, but there was no one in sight, so I wandered around for a while perusing the two outdoor swimming pools until I found the door to the bathing rooms. That’s when I received the only unpleasant news of the day.
Bathing Ritual Pool
Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn
I’m afraid the spa and my own memory share the fault—the bathing tubs and steam rooms that were once sex-segregated were now co-ed, and bathing suits (which I definitely did not bring) were required. I looked longingly at the body-temperature pool, the 104-degree pool, the steam room scented with eucalyptus and the dry sauna—all off-limits to naked me (though I could have worn my robe into the saunas). Nobody mentioned bathing suits when I booked, so better communication would be a plus. Two former attendees of the spa I talked to later said communication between the hotel and spa isn’t what it should be, but I booked directly with the spa, so no excuses.
The spa has a small boutique, so I spent the better part of my free hour trying on several $90 bathing suits, none of which fit properly. In a sour mood, I trundled back down to the locker room and grabbed my underwear—which (thank goodness) matched, and was a comely shade of brown, even though a bit lacy. I changed into it, and proceeded to the bathing area. Fortunately, the tubs had few people, and I ducked into a shower stall whenever spa personnel (the missing concierge!) came by. I got to try all the tubs and saunas, and fell madly in love with the wet sauna—my sinuses jumped for joy.
Wrapping up in my robe, I waited in the pleasant relaxation area (almonds, apples, bananas, tea and flavored water all available) for my masseur. Simeon L., handsome and British, guided me up to the massage room, where he proceeded to give me one of the best massages I’ve ever had, working out a periformas muscle kink I’ve had for more than a year. Simeon was exceptional, and I wholeheartedly recommend him to all—I’ll certainly go back to him in the future (visitors can book their favorites).
While lounging around, I got a tip that the Church Mouse thrift shop right across the street from the entrance to the Sonoma Mission Inn had a few new bathing suits on hand for situations like mine. I scurried over (well, as fast as my liquefied self could scurry), and bought a new Speedo suit for $23. Across the road, the Inn’s Big Three restaurant, though nearly deserted, served up a fine menu for everyone from the gluten-intolerant to full vegetarians and in-between. I had a bowl of truly homemade chicken noodle soup ($10), and made my way back to the spa for my next treatment.
Jennifer M. led me into a darkened, warmed-up treatment room and encouraged me to inhale deeply each of the scented potions she was going to use on me. Willow Stream has a signature blend of essential oils that includes lavender, neroli (bitter orange), sweet orange and a few other things, and it smells both comforting and energizing. The “polish” portion of the chardonnay/olive-oil/sugar-polish is like getting a rubdown with scented sandpaper—fantastic for taking off dead skin, but not for the sensitive. After being thoroughly scrubbed, I rinsed off in the in-room shower, and returned to a clean-sheeted table for the lotion potion. Olavie Chardonnay Body lotion smells incredible. I asked for a relaxing massage (as with a regular massage, you can specify what level of pressure, specific areas of need etc.), and I practically oozed back into the waiting area, where Rudolfo was waiting to prime and polish my toes.
Rudolfo is a charmer—he led me back to the salon where I was soaked, sanded and prepped—and allowed to nap a little in the massage chair during the process. The result: model-worthy feet.
Floating back to the changing room, I (very) slowly got myself together for the drive to a nearby restaurant to meet with friends for dinner. A darn-near perfect day all around!
Entrance to the hotel
Courtesy of Fairmont Sonoma Mission Inn