Harvest Moon

          (Photo of 2012 Bay Area Harvest Moon, photographer unknown) 

By Mark W. Danielson

In layman’s terms, the Harvest Moon is the full moon that is closest to the fall equinox.  I have many memories of them.  As a kid, I once pedaled my bike over a hill at sunset and unexpectedly came face-to-face with a huge yellow one that was at least a gazillion miles wide.  Petrified, I raced home and hid under my bed until my heart slowed.  Many moons later at age seventeen, my fifteen year old buddy and I were camping under the wing of my rented airplane at a small airport near Mount Shasta.  Since we had the only airplane on the airfield and it was quite dark, Dan and I swapped lies while star gazing and munching on the Kentucky Fried Chicken Momma June got for us earlier that day.  Suddenly all was quiet as a red glow appeared over the Sierra Nevada, silhouetting the mountains.  As the glow intensified, we anxiously spoke about fire season and how quickly fires spread this time of year.  Just as we were about to slide out of our sleeping bags and notify the authorities, the top of the full moon peeked over the ridge.  Relieved, we laughed and swapped more stories as the moon made its Heavenly ascent.

Like the sun, the moon also has a dark side.  On October 29, 2012, the full moon’s high tide, a cold front, and Hurricane Sandy created a perfect storm that bulldozed New York City and the New Jersey coast.  Soon after Sandy made landfall, the Manhattan skyline went dark, making technology on every level worthless.  Granted, this storm’s path was a fluke, but it should always remind us that our frail existence is far too dependent upon energy and outside help. 

On September 29^th, the east and west coasts both enjoyed the beginning of a Harvest Moon.  This particular moon will forever hold special meaning to my family.  On this night my father and mother admired it from the deck of their Napa, California, apartment.  For two hours they held hands, sharing memories of their sixty-four wonderful years together.  The next morning, the actual date of the 2012 Harvest Moon, Dad was gone.  He passed in seconds and never suffered.  We are all grateful for that.

Four weeks later, we celebrated my father’s life under another near full moon.  As fate would have it, this was the same moon that wreaked havoc on the east coast, yet in Napa, it shined as a beautiful reminder of my father’s life and his last evening with his bride. 

Heaven does not recognize east or west, political boundaries, war, devastation, bloodshed, or sorrow.  It is a peaceful place where Dad now lives.  I feel his presence every day, and in time I hope to join him.  Until then, Dad, God bless you, and thanks for everything.  I miss you dearly.

In Search of A Good Meal

By Mark W. Danielson

Two weeks ago, Lyne and I enjoyed a wonderful California vacation by first visiting my relatives in Napa, and then driving down the coast to Monterey, Carmel, and San Simeon. The weather was perfect. In Napa, we enjoyed a wonderful hike through Jack London State Park, and dined at a foo-foo restaurant near the Napa River. The wait staff here was highly experienced, but we weren’t real fond of the tiny uncooked squid floating in green brine below our fish entree. After saying good bye to our family, we headed to Monterey Bay, where a high fog hung over us. Our visit to the aquarium was fantastic, but lunch at Bubba Gump’s was less than stellar. We truly enjoyed visiting the Mission Carmel, but dining at Clint Eastwood’s Hog’s Breath Inn was quite disappointing. We loved the nostalgic Carmel Mission Inn, but our dinner there was odd, thanks to our bizarre waitress. The hotel was perfectly preserved in the ‘60’s, but so was our waitress. In fact, she spent as much time talking to the bartender, our drinks literally in hand, as she did tending to us. With the exception of the Napa restaurant, our dining disappointments had one thing in common – the wait staff knew little about providing good service. We certainly didn’t expect that our best meal would come from a diner named Sebastian’s Store, which resides inside an old whaling station located across the highway from Hearst Castle.

Constructed in 1852, this small wooden building is a registered State Landmark and has been owned by the Sebastian family for over fifty years. Inside, it’s also a general store, a post office, and a Hearst Vineyards wine tasting bar. Everywhere you turn, you find timeless relics such as an old fashioned milk shake machine, Coca Cola napkin holders, and a variety of trinkets for sale. But what keeps Sebastian’s going is they know how to treat their customers. You see, these folks have figured out that if you serve good food in a friendly atmosphere, people will talk about it and more customers will follow. Lyne and I both ordered the French dip sandwich, which is made with all-natural Hearst beef. Truly, it was the best sandwich either of us has had, and the presentation was equally superb. And though our order was served through a pick-up window, it was delivered with a genuine smile. You see, dining should be an experience, not merely the consumption of food, and it’s up to the wait staff to ensure the dining experience is enjoyable. That’s the key difference between our experience at Sebastian’s versus the so-called fine dining establishments we dined at.

Perhaps one day our less experienced wait staff will learn how to serve with dignity and create a memorable evening. Then again, in tourist towns, perhaps they feel there’s no need to put in the effort. After all, tourists will always come, right? Maybe. But then there’s that old saying, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” That’s right – people talk, so maybe they won’t be back. So think about it, -- if it takes 98 percent effort to do your job, why not put in the extra two percent to do it well? Aside from earning better tips, you’ll have more fun and so will your customers.
Our drive back to Oakland was interesting. Since the low coastal fog had caught up to us, we decided to drive El Camino Real (101) rather than risk a knuckle-curling drive back along Highway One. We were glad we did because the entire area surrounding Paso Robles has been transformed into vineyards, and those vineyards continued nearly all the way to King City. We stayed at the Hayes Mansion in San Jose, which was a really classy place. (photo below) We made the mistake of dining downtown rather than at the hotel, and our experience at McCormick’s was very disappointing. You see, we were seated across from the bar where the wait staff constantly congregated to socialize to kill time as they weren’t busy. In spite of walking by us numerous times, not once did our waitress check on us or offer to re-fill our drinks. I have spoken with their manager and he is very eager to correct these deficiencies. Interestingly, my e-mail to the Hog’s Breath Inn manager generated no response.
We drove over 600 miles in our sunshine-yellow Rental Bug in six days and took back fond memories of visiting family and Hearst Castle. Interestingly, out of all our meals, Sebastian’s remained the best, which is why it’s worthy of this post. If you’re planning to visit Hearst Castle, be sure to include Sebastian’s in your trip.