By Marcia E. Gawecki

On Monday, June 13, at 12:40 p.m., two men, one in full camelflage gear, were seen attempting to cross a busy section of Hwy. 74, about a mile from Mountain Center near Idyllwild. Parked to the left in a pullout was their gray work truck full of trees. The ones on top looked like manzanitas.

What were these two men in military gear doing in our national forest? Were they stealing trees?

They crossed the road and went up a rough embankment, but didn’t appear to have any shovels or trimming equipment with them.  Locals know that legitimate tree trimmers come in caravans and have lots of signs and equipment with them.

I doubled back around, and took a picture of the truck from the back and side. I couldn’t see where the men went, so I took a picture of the area where they entered. But, as soon as I snapped my picture, I saw one of them close up. He was in full green camelflage jacket and pants, and had a cap with a flap on the back (to shield the sun). The other guy was younger,  in a grey long sleeved polo shirt and jeans. Both men were wearing light colored canvas gloves. But nothing was in their hands.

When I got to Mountain Center, I called the Riverside County Sheriff’s non-emergency line. Kerie, the dispatch operator, took my information and said she’d send out a sheriff’s deputy to investigate.

I gave her the nearest cross street (McGaugh Road near Mountain Center) and the mile marker, 74:58:00. She asked about the color and description of the truck. I was able to enlarge my photos to give her more detail. Alas, there was no license plate.

She also asked about the nationality of the two men (Mexican), their height and weight and what they were wearing. When I had taken the picture, I was so close that I could see that one had a moustache.

Kerie said that she thought it was illegal to take trees from the national forest.

“Even if you live on national forest property, I don’t think you can pull out any trees from your yard,” she said.

About 15 minutes later, she called back to verify the location.

It’s tough times for everyone, and manzanitas and other full-sized trees probably fetch a good price. My mother’s neighbor in Sun City sold two full-sized Queen Palms for $2,000 each. It had taken them 10 years to grow, but they needed the money and someone was willing to pay.

Were these two men digging up and selling our manzanitas? The ones that were protected for all of us to enjoy? If they’re gutsy enough to take them in broad daylight, how many more have they taken?

Although it’s not illegal to purchase live manzanitas, they’re difficult to find. Internet searches came up with only a few native plant nurseries in San Marcos, Las Pelitas, San Fernando Valley and San Juan Capistrano. However, dead manzanita branches are used mostly as decorative centerpieces, and cost plenty online.

Its hardness, rich color and unique shapes make manzanitas ideal for designers and store owners. Their branches are used for wedding centerpiece arrangements, floral arrangements, jewelry holders and even as bird perches by pet store owners.

Perhaps the sheriff’s deputy arrived too late, and the manzanita perpetrators were long gone. But we, as locals from Mountain Center and Idyllwild, can still protect our national forest from tree poachers. If you see anyone like these two men acting suspicious, report them to the Riverside County Sheriff’s Department immediately. Write down the truck’s description and if you know the mile marker or nearest cross street, to help the sheriff find their location. The non-emergency phone number for the Idyllwild area is (800) 950-2444.

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

Two things you’ll notice immediately about the Idyllwild Dog Park this week. Many of the ornamental trees have been cut down, and there’s no water available.

The dog park is located inside a fence on the Idyllwild Pines Camp property. The camp donated the land to ICRC, which maintains the dog park for the Idyllwild community.

Manzanitas, oaks, and pines have been cut to stumps. The bushes camelflaging the front gate are gone. Only the tall cedars and pines remain, along with a smattering of trees. Now the sun beats down on the dirt, but dog owners say there hasn’t been any drinking water available for weeks.

The park is divided into two parts, separated by another fence. Each part had its own water spigot in the back with dog bowls underneath. But this week, the bowls remain dry.

When contacted this weekend, ICRC Chairperson John Simpson said, “Idyllwild Pines Camp maintains their property according to their needs.”

He added that ICRC doesn’t pay the water bill; Idyllwild Pines Camp does. But Town Hall is in charge of maintaining the dog park.

“I hate to see anyone cut down live trees,” said Barb, an dog sitter from Idyllwild, who was at the park with her friend, Lori, and their four dogs. The dogs were panting under one shade tree.

Barb pointed to a barren area in the park where only a stump remained.

“There was a beautiful pine tree here just last week,” Barb said. “My dog used to dig underneath it, and now it’s gone.”

She said that perfectly good oak, manzanita and pine trees were cut down to stumps.

“Why would they cut down live trees in a dog park?” she asked. “We need them for shade and our dogs need them to pee on, right?”

When asked about the trees, Cindy, from the Idyllwild Pines Camp, said that they’re changing things and moving things around. They’ve cut trees and bushes and plan to add natural plants to the front of the camp.

“We’ve really been needing it for a long time,” Cindy said.

Cindy didn’t know why the water in the dog park had been turned off, but said she’d look into it.

“We wouldn’t shut off the water intentionally,” she said.

Barb said that she called a friend on the ICRC board to ask about the water shut-off.

“Another lady who was just here said that it’s been off for one month,” Barb said. “You’ve gotta have water in a dog park!”

Barb added that she didn’t think that ICRC knew about the cut trees.

“The camp donated the land, but you’d think they’d let ICRC know what was going on,” she said.

Then Barb smiled for the first time during the conversation.

“Maybe we can plant some more trees here,” she said. “I have a fast-growing pine tree that I just got from the Home Depot.”

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

Memorial Day Weekend brought hundreds of tourists to Idyllwild, mostly for the yard sales. There were also hoards of part-timers here on a mission: to fire abate their yards.

No one can describe this abatement situation in a more humorous light than Ben Killingsworth, a current Idyllwild Fire Department Commissioner, and former columnist for the Idyllwild Town Crier newspaper.

In his recent book, “Waiting for My Wife,” a compilation of his Town Crier columns from 2003, Ben pokes fun of Idyllwild part-timers who come to enthusiastically abate their yards. Here’s an excerpt from “Making Little Clouds of Dust,” from page 242:

“Something else that didn’t take long to notice is that the average part-timer does more work in his/her place over a weekend than we full-timers accomplish in the five days in between. In fact, they are almost fanatic about it. I’ve even seen one or two jump out of their car with rake in hand before pulling to a complete stop in their driveway.”

Most part-timers are as enthusiastic about fire abatement as Ben describes, while others are not.  My neighbor from the LA area came to inspect her yard Memorial Weekend. The foot-high grass covered her front yard, but she decided to do nothing.

“It’s still too green,” she said.  “I’m going to wait until it dies to abate.”

Rhonda, from the Idllwild Fire Department, doesn’t think that’s the right attitude to take.

“We live on this mountain, and not just during spring and summer,” she said. “Even if you don’t live here year round, your home is still here all year. Everyone needs to take responsibility for abatement.”

Abatement notices went out a month ago to full timers and part timers, giving them a heads up, Rhonda said. Then the IFPD waited another 30 days, but is now doing residential inspections and giving notices to homeowners. Once you get a notice, you have 30 days to comply or you’ll be cited.

Besides the notices in the mail, Rhonda said there’s been many articles in the Town Crier. They also have lots of abatement information on their web site, www.idyllwildfire.com.

Since Memorial Day, locals have been trimming trees, weed wacking and raking pine needles. The organic waste site at the dump has grown from a few piles to a large mountain top.

Yet, these sights and sounds make some homeowners sweat. They work full time and can’t keep up with abatement too. One single woman in her 50s was seen raking her yard at midnight because she was afraid of getting a citation that she couldn’t afford.

“It doesn’t have to come to that,” Rhonda said. “If you are having difficulty abating your yard, the IFPD is here to help. We’ll recommend someone or give you more time.”

My other neighbor said that some Mormon volunteers came to her house and offered to abate her yard for free.

“They really seem like they care about our community,” she said.

“We want this year’s abatement in Idyllwild to be successful for everyone,” Rhonda added. “If you’ve received a notice and you’re having time constraints, just give us a call. We’ll work with you.”

The IFPD’s phone number is (951) 659-2152.

If inspectors see piles and waste in bags, they know that you’re working on abating your yard and aren’t going to cite you. However, she said homeowners with hard-core abatement issues who ignore the notices and don’t even try to abate their yards, will not receive as much sympathy.

“All it takes is a phone call,” Rhonda said. “Talk to Jack Peckham, our fire marshall, and he’ll work with you.”

More abatement information can be found on the IFPD web site at www.idyllwildfire.com. Ben Killingsworth’s book, with humorous accounts about abatement and other Idyllwild-isms, “Wating for My Wife,”  is for sale in the Idyllwild Pharmacy, Bee’s Books and on Amazon.com.

Copyright 2o11 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

If you do anything in Idyllwild this Memorial Weekend, go see the final show of “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s.” It’s a fast-paced comedy about a love triangle between a married couple and their dentist. It promises an evening full of old fashioned belly laughs. The last show is at 7 p.m. Monday night.

“This is not high art,” quipped Connor O’Farrell, the show’s director. “Good plays have layers and depth, but this one just offers joke after joke.”

“Murder at the Howard Johnson’s” is about trouble in relationships. Anyone who has been married or has been in a relationship can relate, and laugh at themselves,” adds Conor.

As it turns out, Conor and his wife, Holly O’Farrell, both performed in the first act of Sunday night’s show.

As Doug Austin, the Master of Ceremonies, explained: “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s” will be portrayed in three acts, with nine players, all in similar costumes.”

“The reason we’re using nine actors is because so many talented actors showed up at the auditions, and we couldn’t turn them away,” Doug said. “Actually, last year, everyone kept forgetting their lines, so we had to split it up!”

Doug’s reference was to last year’s comedy, the “Odd Couple” starring Vic Sirkin and Lou Bacher, two locals, who had to memorize 600 lines of dialog each. During their performances, they had their scripts on their laps and were calling for lines, Conor explained.

“Every now and then, they’d get this ‘deer in the headlights’ look, wait about five seconds, and then deliver their lines,” Conor recalled.

During Sunday’s performance, there were only two of those “deer” moments, but they recovered quickly and the audience laughed along with them.

“You end up memorizing the whole play, really,” explained Lou Bacher, president of the Idyllwild Help Center, who also plays one of the dentists.

“If Vic doesn’t give me the right line, I’m screwed,” Lou explained. “I don’t know where to go next. So you end up memorizing their lead-in lines, your lines, and basically the whole show.”

That’s a big bill for a man in his 70s, but someone has to do it.

Sunday night’s show could have been a bust because of the weather. It had been raining all day, with no sign of letting up at showtime. Yet, those hearty folks with tickets ate their spaghetti dinner in their laps, and didn’t complain about eating ice cream and cookies in chilly weather.

“Even if they cancelled the dinner, it wouldn’t matter,” said one part-timer from Carlsbad. “All of the proceeds go to the Help Center.”

Sunday night’s show was the third performance for the acting troupe with their final show tonight, Monday, May 30, at 7 p.m.

Ticket sales were going well. Before the show, Steve Taylor, a board member, said that they had already achieved $13,000 of their $15,000 goal. After the show, Lou said it was even higher at $14,000.

When I heard that nine actors would be playing three people in the same outfits and wigs, I was skeptical. But since there was only three characters in each act, it was easy to follow.

“I’m the only natural curly-headed redhead, so I don’t have to wear a wig,” claimed Betty Anderson, an Idyllwild newcomer with musical theater experience.

Speaking of wigs, the ones worn by the gigolo dentist were so cheesy that it was painful to watch. That shaggy, 70s Peter Frampton style wig was so ill-fitted and ridiculous on all three dentists.

Yet, it was the snappy dialog that carried this play. Written by Ron Clark and Sam Bobrick, it reminded me of those wonderful Neil Simon comedies set in New York. You’re just laughing and reacting to the first joke, when they’re onto the next one.

Conor, who plays Paul, the husband in the first act set on Christmas, is surprised to see his wife and dentist in the same room at the Howard Johnson’s hotel. Their affair surprises him, yet he has no idea about their dark and dubious plan.

“Didn’t I satisfy you sexually?” Paul asks Arlene, ignoring Mitchell (played by Frank Ferro, the dentist with the bad wig).

“A marriage is like baseball,” Paul explained. “Sometimes you pitch, sometimes you catch. Sometimes it goes into extra innings, and sometimes it’s rained out. But you love the game, so you’re in for the long haul.”

Arlene (played by Holly O’Farrell, his real-life wife), would hear none of that. She wanted sex, freedom and excitement. Nothing Paul, the hardworking husband and weekend couch potato, had to offer.

Yet, the banter between husband and wife, as they sort things out, is precious.

“Wait until you see how cleverly we planned this,” Arlene brags to her husband as they’re tying him up.

Later, she worries that he’ll catch a cold in the bathtub water before they drown him.

The second act is in the same hotel room six months later on the Fourth of July. Exit Conor, Holly and Frank Ferro. Enter a new trio comprised of Phil Drell as the dentist, Chris Singer as Arlene and Pete Caparelli as the husband.

The wigs, costumes and dialog works. The audience is laughing out loud.

“It was a great way to handle the show,” said Trish, a local, who is also an actress with the Isis Theater Company. “That way, the actors don’t have to recite so much dialog, and no one gets bored.”

Trish went on to say that she liked the show’s reference to locals like Elaine Bacher and the Town Crier newspaper.

“We should do that with the Isis Theater,” Trish said. “It’s a great way to connect with a local audience.”

In the audience Sunday night were some actor’s own fan clubs. The group of five women sitting ahead and next to me came to see Chris Singer in a curly red wig. They were staying at her Silver Pines Lodge and laughed at every joke, except for a few by the show’s MC, Doug Austin.

“Did he really say that?” one of the women asked. “I thought this was a family show!”

For the second act set on the Fourth of July, Arlene used a ploy to get her husband and lover into the same room. Yet, clearly hadn’t figured out her loyalties. Both men longed for her, out of habit and lust. Her hardworking husband lacked excitement, yet her lover lacked his earning power.

What surprised me was both men were willing to resort to murder to keep this ditzy redhead. Conor said to take this show at face value, but you just wanted to shake those two men into reason! Yet, both blamed popular culture (namely newspaper and magazine articles) as the culprit for Arlene’s dissatisfaction with their flawed relationships.

Yet, Arlene didn’t appear to be the “evolved” woman she claimed to be. Like a bee, she’d flit from man to man, still trying to “find” herself.

The final trio, comprised of Lou as the dentist/lover, Vic as the husband and Betty Anderson as Arlene, appear in the same hotel room on New Year’s Eve. As a group, they’ve been through a lot together.

When Arlene and Paul attempt to murder Mitchell, he tries to wiggle out with his so-called sincerity. He opens the window and shouts, “Hey world! I love Mrs. Paul Miller!”

“I think he means it, honey,” Arlene says to her husband. “He needs an apology.”

The audience knows that “Mrs. Paul Miller,” is a trophy between two sparring men, but not a true declaration of love.

Besides snappy dialog, audience members can expect lots of physical comedy, such as jumping on beds and walking on skyscraper ledges. All are done exceedingly well with minimal props.

Was one acting trio better than another? You be the judge. As a cohesive play, it worked. The actors weren’t taxed out in rehearsals, yet the audience wasn’t bored.

Yet, it didn’t take a local to follow along.

Charlie and Linda, a couple from San Diego, were visiting Idyllwild Memorial Weekend. They heard about the play at their hotel, and decided to give it a try. Years ago, their son had attended Idyllwild Arts Academy.

From the back row, they laughed along heartily with everyone else.

“We just love local theater,” Charlie said. “This was a lot of fun!”

“I have two rules to live by,” Mitchell (played by Lou Bacher) explained. “No lipstick and no personal checks.”

Yet, seeing Lou in red lipstick sporting a Peter Frampton wig is well worth the $35 ticket price.

The show is MC’d by Doug Austin who tells corny jokes, but keeps the auction items going. A weekday getaway at Silver Pines Lodge (for two) garnered $150, while two photos of Frank Ferro (fully clothed in 70s attire) brought in another $50 or so.

By tonight’s show, (Monday, May 30th) it looks like the troupe will surpass their $15,000 goal. Which is a pretty incredible feat given our tough economy.

“We’re serving customers at the Help Center now who once donated to us,” Lou said pointedly after Sunday night’s show.

Besides the Mary Austin Scholarship Fund, the show had help from Sysco Foods, Cafe Aroma, Community Lumber, Isis Theater Company, John Simpson for graphic design, Linda Anderson for spearheading the meal and all of the Help Center volunteers.

Tickets to tonight’s show (Monday, May 30) are still available.  Get them at the Help Center, Silver Pines Lodge or by calling (951) 659-4335. Dinner will be held from 5 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. Show starts promptly at 7 p.m.

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

If you’re up for a little murder-mystery-mayhem this Memorial Day Weekend, “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s” offers your best ticket.

It’s put on by the same group of community actors that brought you “The Odd Couple” last year.

So before you begin groaning or giggling, keep in mind this troupe raised more than $11,000 in ticket sales and auction items for the Idyllwild Help Center last year.

And since this year presents an even greater need, their goal is now $15,000. To achieve this, Director Conor O’Farrell has expanded the performances from three to four, to accommodate everyone’s schedule Memorial Weekend. Dinner shows run from Friday, May 27 to Monday, May 31.

“We added another night because of the popularity of ‘The Odd Couple,’” Conor said. “For the last show, we turned about 20 people away.”

Town Hall has a capacity of 120 seats. An Italian dinner is included into the $35 ticket price and will be served on the grounds around Town Hall.  Sysco Foods, Café Aroma and Help Center volunteers all worked together to make it happen, said Lou Bacher, who is now president of the Idyllwild Help Center, as well as an actor in the show.

“But instead of 600 lines that I had to recite for ‘The Odd Couple,’” I only have 200 lines,” Lou said.

The combination of a light comedy dinner theater worked for the Help Center last year, so Conor has agreed to another show. He chose “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s for this troupe because he had performed 15 years ago, and local audiences loved it.

“It’s a silly play, really,” Conor said over coffee at Café Aroma. “Great drama has layers and texture. This has nothing like that. It’s just joke after joke.  But if you want to laugh and have a good time, then we’ll deliver.”

Conor added that during “The Odd Couple,” performance Lou and Vic had their books in hand onstage and were still calling for lines.

“We were entertained by their screw ups,” he said.

But this time, Conor isn’t going to tax out his actors by making them learn so many lines. He’s assigned different actors for each of the acts.

“Wigs and costumes will be the same to help clarify things,” Conor explained.

You see, the story centers around an unhappily married couple and their dentist. Scenes are set at a Howard Johnson’s Hotel on New Year’s Eve, the Fourth of July and Christmas.  Without spoiling the show, just know that two of the three main characters conspire to kill one other. Murder, mystery and mayhem ensue.

The cast includes Betty Anderson, Holly O’Farrell, Frank Ferro, Chris Singer, Phil Drell, Pete Caparelli, Lou Bacher and Vic Sirkin.

“Without naming names, there’s one actor who is really awkward onstage. It’s so bad it’s funny,” Conor said.

Vic bristled.

“We didn’t invite you here to put us down and steal the whole interview,” he said.

“I went into acting because it’s always about me,” Conor said, and reminded Vic that play practice started in 15 minutes.

“What’s your first line?” Conor asked Vic, holding up a crisp piece of bacon.

Vic licked his lips and began panting loudly.

“Where are the towels?” Vic shouted.

“Good boy!” Conor exclaimed.

However, not everyone in the cast is a novice. Betty Anderson has been a model and actor for awhile. She and her family moved from San Diego to Idyllwild because her daughter, Gemini, is studying theater at Idyllwild Arts.

“Did Conor tell you about himself?” Betty asked.

Not only is Conor a good director, but an accomplished Hollywood actor. He’s appeared in film, theater and television. Some of the more popular TV shows include “NCIS,” “CSI,””Cold Case,” “The Mentalist,” “Star Trek: Enterprise” and “Without a Trace.”

“Fame aside, he’s just Conor, a crabby, egomanic director when he’s here in Idyllwild,” Vic reminded us.

One popular auction item will feature a semi-nude Frank Ferro, owner-manager of Cafe Aroma.

“Since the show uses lots of towels as props, we’re auctioning off a framed photo of Frank in a towel,” Conor said.

Last year, a photo of Frank in nothing but an apron raised $250 for the Help Center.

“Everyone thinks Frank is sexy,” Conor added. “They didn’t ask Vic or me to pose in a towel.”

Other auction items include movie box sets, a director’s chair and other autographed items.

Tickets for “Murder at the Howard Johnson’s” are available at the Idyllwild Help Center, Silver Pines Lodge and by calling (951) 659-4335. The $35 ticket price includes dinner, which will be served from 5 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. at Town Hall. Shows start promptly at 7 p.m.

All ticket proceeds go to the Idyllwild Help Center. The show was made possible, in part, by a grant from the Mary Austin Grant & Scholarship Fund.

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

After the Saturday night, May 21st performance of “The Spitfire Grill,” the audience was on its feet whooping it up. One might expect that from an audience made up of family, friends and faculty, but this one was made up largely of Idyllwild residents.

“I was told to bring tissues,” admitted Beth, one Idyllwild resident who is also an actor.

Others were drawn to the theater for the first time. What was the attraction to this performance about a small town in Gilead, Wisconsin, that struck a cord?

Perhaps it could have been a tale about Idyllwild.

“Didn’t it remind you a lot of Idyllwild?” Beth asked at intermission.

Yep, there were lots of similarities, good and bad. Small town gossips, rigid folks unwilling to accept newcomers, those harboring deep secrets, homeless folks living in the woods and  those who couldn’t wait to leave. But “The Spitfire Grill” also touched on topics that would interest locals like lost logging, natural beauty and escapism.

The story is interesting enough. It’s about Percy (played by Melissa), a young woman who leaves prison to start a new life in Gilead. She had seen a newspaper clipping of the changing fall leaves along Copper Creek. It seemed as likely place as any, yet most of the townsfolk don’t share in Percy’s plan.

Even her new boss/landlord  Hannah (played by Becca), a grouchy, bitter woman (who harbors a big secret) is strict with Percy and holds her at arm’s length. In spite of it all, Percy doesn’t buckle. As a newcomer, she appreciates windows without bars and  the beauty of her natural surroundings, even from inside a greasy grill.

Speaking of grills, The Red Kettle in Idyllwild got a callout in the program. It reads: “Special thanks to Martha and the gals at The Red Kettle.”

In fact, the three leads in the show, Melissa, Becca and Paulina, all went to The Red Kettle a couple of weeks ago for more than just lunch.

“We just ate and talked,” said Paulina and Becca sheepishly.

Likely they were talking to Martha and her waitresses about what it’s like to own and work in a local grill, day in and day out. Martha would give it to them straight.

Well, their research paid off. The show had a homespun feel to it. (Just like looking in the mirror, Idyllwild). There were likeable characters, like Shelby (played by Paulina), a shy housewife who is bullied by her husband. And Hannah, who took in an ex-convict without waitress or culinary skills. And Joe, the town sheriff, (played by Milan) who initially resents being Shelby’s parole officer, but later opens his to the natural beauty before him.

The annoying cast members included Effy, the nosy postwoman (played by Savannah), whose gossipy ways made everyone cringe, and Caleb, Shelby’s verbally abusive husband (played by Jake), who resents living in his cousin’s shadow.

“Jake cut his hair short for the sake of the show,” said Will, Jake’s friend.

Jake’s preppy locks were cut military-style to fit his angry, rigid personality.

“I just hated your character,” one woman admitted after the show.

“That’s a sign of a good actor,” said Will, proudly.

Like others, 16 songs in a two-hour show sounded a bit too much. The storyline was serious enough. Did it needed to be punctuated with song after song?

Yet, they made the whole story about The Spitfire Grill in Idyllwild, er Gilead, even richer. Anyone can recite dialog, but it takes talent to sing your way though a play, and make the locals laugh, cry and stand up and cheer.

You’re going to love all the lyrics by James Valcq and Fred Alley. You’d swear they’ve visited Idyllwild before.

Like “The Colors of Paradise,” sung by Percy and Shelby, as they wrote an ad about visiting Gilead and The Spitfire Grill. “Ever want to lose yourself/Come to a place where you can grow/where there’s people that you know/Own a piece of heaven where hummingbirds sing/and roots so deep into the earth, they’ll never pull away.”

Or “Digging Stone,” the song sung by Caleb, that could also reflect local frustrations about work and the economy.

“They kick you hard and make you crawl/A man is more than just blood and stone.”

But “These Wide Woods,” sung by Joe and Percy sums it all up beautifully:

“If these woods were mine/Dreams would come to me.”

Of course, none of the songs in “The Spitfire Grill” musical would be possible without the music. Instead of canned music on disk, this Idyllwild Arts musical had a live band. Five staff members and classical music majors played each sound effect, intermission music, set scene music and accompanying numbers for two hours. The band included: Nelms McKelvain on piano, Keth McCabe on guitar and mandolin, Patrick Doran-Sheenan on accordian, and music students Manje and Miley on violin and cello. When you see their tired arms after the show, tell them to take a bow.

You have one more chance to see “The Spitfire Grill” on Sunday, May 22 at 2 p.m. at the IAF Theatre on campus. All shows are free and open to the public, but come early to get a seat.

For more information, visit www.idyllwildarts.org or call (951) 659-2171.

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me.  All rights reserved.

Published on: May 22, 2011 @ 0:07

By Marcia E. Gawecki

The other night, I was awakened by a loud crinkling sound coming from my kitchen. All three cats in my room were not alarmed, so I knew that it wasn’t a human prowler. It had to be a raccoon.

Awhile back, I researched raccoon behavior, and knew they were cheeky enough to come inside your house in search of food. They have nimble fingers that can turn knobs, open doors, and basically make a hefty mess. But they also will be very aggressive if you box them in.

I calmly walked down the stairs, turning on lights, and making lots of noise. The perpetrator met me at the corner of the kitchen. He stood up on his hind legs to look bigger than he was. Still, he was only two feet high. I’ve seen him outside on my porch many times eating birdseed and bread crusts that I’ve left out for the birds.

He must’ve come in through the open window. Since I was standing in the pathway of his only exit, I quickly backed off, and went upstairs. I could hear him noisily crawl over the couch and out the window. After a few minutes, I closed it and inspected the damage.

This small raccoon had been reaching inside my large, 15-pound bag of cat food that was left on the floor. He didn’t use his claws or teeth to tear the bag, but calmly reached into the small opening to grab handfuls of kibble at a time. It was all pretty tidy, with none spilled on the floor. However, the banana muffin that was in a plastic baggie on the table was gone, with crumbs were spread across my laptop. I breathed a sigh of relief. No cupboards open or trash overturned.

The little guy was out on the porch now, looking for more food. So I scooped out a couple of cups of Friskies onto a plate. When I opened the door, he backed away onto a nearby tree. I sat down in the dark and watched him eat through the screen door. He never took his eyes off of me once. He would blindly reach sideways and grab the kibble off the plate and bring it to his mouth to eat.

I’m sure this was the son of the blind mother raccoon who had come into my kitchen before through an open door (See blog post, “Blind Mother Raccoon Thrives,” posted June 9, 2010). It was hard to imagine that anyone would want to kill or hurt him.

Yet, people actually hunt raccoons for sport. My mother said that my grandfather (whom I never met) “hunted ‘coons” in Ohio. He and his friends would shine bright lights into the trees at night, and then blast them with their guns. I’m sure the pelts weren’t worth anything with large bullet holes in them, and the meat couldn’t be tasty either. It all seemed pretty barbaric and senseless.

I had forgotten all about it until I read a story in Rolling Stone magazine about Steven Tyler, the charismatic frontman from Aerosmith who is creating a sensation on “American Idol” these days. I love Tyler’s music, and appreciated his heartfelt comments about the Season 10 contestants, especially our own Casey Abrams.

However, when I read that he wears several raccoon teeth on a chain around his neck, my blood went cold. The article didn’t go into detail about the incident, only that Tyler hunted raccoons as a kid, but still wears the necklace. Was it some right of passage? Kill a raccoon, skin it, knock out his teeth and make a necklace?

It’s not like teeth from a bear or a shark that would have given him a fair fight.  Raccoons are not carnivores, Steven, they’re pine cone eaters. They “coo” to each other like birds, but will snarl like dogs if they’re cornered and fighting for their lives. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that sound.

I’ve let out a string of profanity minutes before I thought I was going to die in a car crash. I was never so scared in all my life. And I’d be just as nasty looking down the barrel of a shotgun. That raccoon that Tyler killed likely was standing up, snarling, and bearing his teeth. But, he was likely cornered with no way out. Otherwise, he’d be over the fence and up the nearest tree.

Raccoon teeth are nothing to brag about, Steven.  It wasn’t a fair fight. You shined a bright light into the “home” of a pine-cone eating tree hugger, cornered, shot him, and took his teeth. I’m sure you tell a good story. That coon was acting as vicious as he could be.  After all, he was fighting for his life, and you were a kid hunting for sport. But it’s time to put away childhood things.

Granted, I’m annoyed when raccoons knock over my water cans, leave paw prints on my rugs and even tear my clothes off the line. But I  just shrug my shoulders and repeat what many folks in Idyllwild would say, “Well, they were here first.”

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

During this past week on Fox 11’s “American Idol,” I expected Casey Abrams, the heartthrob from Idyllwild, to shave his beard.  After all, he had to do something to top the Jennifer Lopez kiss.

Throughout Season 10, columnists, bloggers and reporters have been obsessed with Casey’s beard. Early on, he was compared to popular comedic actor Seth Rogen, but lately, some have been less than kind, calling him “a bearded doughboy.”

What is the big deal about a beard?  It looks nice on Casey. Does a beard always have to give the impression that a man is hiding something?

“He looks a little bit scruffy,” admitted  my mother when I asked her to watch the show.

My dad, a gynecologist, shaved his face every day of his professional life.

“Patients won’t come to me if I have a beard,” he said. “Medical professionals must be clean shaven.”

Probably the only one who could wear a beard without reprisal would be a psychiatrist. After all, Freud had one.

In an interview after he was cut from “American Idol” last week, Casey was asked about The Beard again. He admitted that “American Idol” judge Steven Tylor, the frontman from Aerosmith, caught his eye once and did a mock shaving motion.

“I really appreciated that gesture,” Casey said.

Casey said that he didn’t want to shave his beard because he has a receding chin.

Well, that makes sense. A beard would cover that up nicely.

During one of the show’s short videos (rather, the Ford commercial), each of the final six contestants got to poke fun at each other. When it came to Casey, everyone wore Abe Lincoln beards and talked about his zaniness. Jacob Lusk called him “odd,” but a “musical genius” at the same time. That night, even show host Ryan Seacrest, wore a mock beard.

Yep, Casey takes the beard chiding all in stride. Perhaps he takes cues from his father, Ira Abrams, a bearded film teacher at Idyllwild Arts Academy, where Casey learned his jazz moves.

Another interviewer asked Casey what his first album would look like.

“It’ll probably have an upright bass on it,” Casey said. “And a beard.”

Copyright 2011 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

Published on: May 4, 2011 @ 16:04

By Marcia E. Gawecki

The Idyllwild Barber Shop has been open for a few months now and Don Strunk, the barber, has a few good things going for him.

First of all, he’s got a great location, just off Hwy. 243 as you enter Idyllwild.

He’s a friendly guy, who is willing to give directions to almost anyone who stops by. Since he’s a newcomer too, he’s stocked up on Idyllwild maps, business cards and sales pamphlets.

Best of all, he charges a fair price for a haircut, and does a good job, said Bill Waring, a 7-time customer who lives in Palm Desert and Idyllwild. “But I think Don put something on my hair to make it grow faster!”

Most of Don’s haircuts cost $8, and only $15 for “hippy” or long hair. These prices are similar to what barbers are charging in Hemet, where Don used to work. He lives in Anza now, but said that town already had enough stylists.

“So I opened up a shop in Idyllwild, where everyone is friendly,” Don said.

Even at those low prices, Don said that can break even, and will eventually make a profit. He averages about two new customers a week. Later on, he might offer a chair to a stylist with experience in coloring and perms.

“I just do haircuts,” said Don, who lists only his first name on his business cards. He is a man of few words, preferring to let others in his chair do the talking.

“I don’t like going to beauty shops,” said Bill. “They scare the Dickens out of me. All those women and their perms!”

Bill said that it’s worth the drive up from Palm Desert every three weeks for a haircut.

“His prices are fantastic,” Bill said. “And he’s a nice guy.”

Because of his location, Don also gets students from Idyllwild Arts on weekends.  Michel, who comes from Mexico, said that his prices were right, and he did a nice job.

Don said that he was fortunate to rent the place, which housed Idyllwild Appliance for years. He had been looking around town, and almost settled on a place on Cedar and North Circle Drive. Then, he drove by Idyllwild Appliance and saw the guys moving out. He asked if the place was for rent, and called the owner immediately.

“When I told him about my plans to open up a barber shop, Jim said, ‘That’s the best darn idea that I’ve heard in a long time,'” Don said.

Don did some remodeling of the place, including painting the walls, changing the carpeting, and adding a checkerboard tile floor. He also has a TV with game boards in his waiting area.  Outside his front door, Don has put a few sandwich boards and for the holidays, he added some Christmas lights.

“I’m really lucky to be here,” Don said. “I love this town.”

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.

By Marcia E. Gawecki

In any given month in Idyllwild, CA, hundreds of squirrels run across Highway 243 and side streets and get hit. Locals know to honk their horns, and the squirrels will run back quickly. Their “stop and go” tactics might be able to divert natural predators, but they are no match for fast-moving cars and inattentive drivers.

That being said, squirrels don’t often die after being hit by cars. Barbara Hunt, a local realtor and animal lover, has nursed countless squirrels and birds back to life. She once told me, “Oftentimes, when a squirrel is hit, it’s only stunned, or temporarily dazed, but then the second car comes along and kills it.”

So when I saw the car in front of me, hit a squirrel I was hopeful when I drove by and saw that its head was still up. When squirrels die, they usually lie on their back or sides. Was it still alive?

I quickly pulled over and picked up a small basket from the back seat of my car, and a magazine. When I got to him, he was breathing heavily, but still alive. His back legs looked a little twisted, but otherwise he was OK. So I pushed him a little bit with the magazine to see if he would run off, but he winced in pain.

Just then, a guy drove by and shouted, “Hey! What are you, some kind of nut?!”

By this point, I realized that I was blocking traffic. It was 25 feet from a stop sign on Hwy. 243, so cars were slowing down naturally, but I was standing in the middle of the road. So when a friend of my boyfriend’s, drove up and asked nicely what was going on, I told her my intentions.

“So then get it out of the road,” she said, and I scooped him up without looking. He didn’t fight or try to run away. I think he was still dazed and likely in pain.

Just then, several young hikers walked by, and said that it was really cool at what I was doing, saving the squirrel and all. I was starting to get embarrassed about the whole affair.

I put the squirrel in the basket on the floor of the front seat and drove home about a mile away. He didn’t like the car’s motion, and crawled up under the dashboard. I was nervous that he might jump around or bite me in a panic, so I kept talking to him like I do my cats.

“Don’t worry, baby, everything’s going to be alright,” I cooed.

Speaking of cats, I have four of them, and I’m bringing a wounded squirrel home! They would dance on my head all night long if I brought him inside the bathroom.

Jeff, my boyfriend, suggested that I call Barbara Hunt to see if she’d take him off my hands. Her husband, Bud, answered the phone and said that she already had too many animals to take care of.

“So what should I do with the squirrel?” I asked, hoping for a few squirrel tips.

“Take it back to where you got it, and let it go,” Bud said. “Squirrels don’t like to be cooped up inside.”

My heart was racing. It was already dark and a wounded squirrel would be easy prey for a coyote. I decided he needed more time to rest.

“He may not live though the night,” Jeff said. “You’ve got to prepare yourself for that.”

Ever since I was young, I believed that I had a “gift” for saving the world.

His friend, Richard, who retired from the Idyllwild Post Office, gave me lots of peanuts and other squirrel food (His wife works for the U.S. Forest Service). He also told many great stories of how they have nursed bluejays, raccoons and even a bobcat back to health. They didn’t bring the bobcat inside, but brought her a medlee of raw chicken, beef and pork for weeks, until she was well enough to hunt on her own.

Many people in Idyllwild often go out of their way to help wounded animals. One woman I know has nursed a female coyote back to health, and another guy is nursing two baby raccoons. Seems like everyone in town has at least one story to tell.

“When it eats, then you know it’s OK to send him back,” Richard advised.

I put the peanuts, a bowl of water and a wool blanket inside the car for the squirrel. I cracked a back window for air and went to bed. After all the drama, I was exhausted.

Early the next morning, all four of my cats were sitting on top of my car, saying, “Please hurry! Let the wounded squirrel out!”

The squirrel was chirping and running around the car, but hadn’t eaten anything all night. It knocked over the water bowl and left some droppings.

But I didn’t take him home that day because he hadn’t eaten.

I worked all day, and returned home around 8 p.m. He was sleeping under one of the seats, so I set my alarm for 6 a.m. and prepared to return it to the state park the next day.

“That way, he’ll have all day to find its mother and get home,” Jeff said.

We were all quickly becoming squirrel experts.

The next morning, I witnessed him eating the peanuts and tried to get a few pictures, but he moved too quickly, or my camera was too slow.

So I drove to the park. It was a cold, sunny morning, and I had to smile. Growing up, one of my favorite movies was “Born Free.” My heart ached when Elsa was returned to the wild, but nearly starved to death because she didn’t know how to hunt. Although there were no parallels between a lioness and my baby squirrel, I felt a little sad about letting him go.

Actually, I decided he was a she, and called her “Cookie,” for being a “tough cookie” and surviving the car accident.

I opened up all four doors and waited. Cookie didn’t rush out. So I backed off to give her a little room. Well, after about 15 minutes, I was getting cold and a little bored. So I walked up to the back door and told her that I had things to do. As if on key, she jumped up on the back seat and paused for a second. I grabbed my camera and quickly snapped her picture.

Then Cookie took off, down the seat and out the door. She ran about 20 yards and stopped for a moment. I took another picture. Cookie was “Born Free.”

“Be careful!” I shouted, like a sympathetic idiot. “Stay away from the highway!”

As I drove away, I thought about how weird Cookie must feel, spending two nights in a car, and now being back home again. Would she remember me?

Tucker, my supervisor at work, thinks so. He lives next door to Barbara Hunt, and friendly squirrels often come to his door. Once, a bluejay landed in his hand.

I have to admit, I felt pretty good about giving Cookie another chance. I just hope that other motorists do too, and honk when they see squirrels crossing the road in Idyllwild or anywhere they live.

Copyright 2010 Idyllwild Me. All rights reserved.