Dog Wash!

Car wash, yes. But I've never heard of a Dog Wash. And would love to see a Cat Wash!

My niece, Santana, is a Cheer Leader at Vale High School. And today the Cheer Leaders had a fund raising event and it was a Dog Wash! I have never given Dakota a bath and didn't know how he would react so decided that I would take him to the Dog Wash and let them sort it out. I was the first customer of the day. I made sure I arrived early because I wanted my niece to do the honors, which she did beautifully. By the time they were finished shampooing, conditioning, cleaning ears, coat waxing, perfuming, and pedicuring, the line for Dog Wash was really quite long. Must have been six or eight dogs deep waiting for their turn. Of course I bought the super deluxe pamper special for $9. And because the girls did such a good job I also left a $1 tip. Lest you think I'm cheap, a 15% tip would have brought the total to $10.35 (so what if I was $.35 short of the 15% good manner tip). Still happens to be a good tip percent for Vale!

Thank-you 5th Graders...

For the past two years I have been a volunteer in Ms. Scotta's 5th grade class in the Mission District in San Francisco.

10-year old kids ask the most fascinating questions. My favorite came from a little hispanic kid who asked, 'Mr. Braniff, if the universe blew up would God still be alive?' You have to be sharp to keep up with these kids, let me tell you. My response was to answer his question with a question. 'Well, what if God created 10 universes and only one of them blew up, would he still be alive then?' 'Hmmm' he said and that was the end of that.

I just received a packet of letters from the '09 class and want to share some of the excerpts from their letters to me. I have quoted the excerpts exactly as they were written to me, bad spelling, bad grammer and all. Two of the kids spoke no english at the beginning of their 5th grade. One of them was Roxane from France, the other Muthana from Yeman. They speak english now, which speaks volumes about the kind of teacher Ms. Liz Scotta is. All the letters start out, 'Dear Mr. Braniff'.

'I think that you are an amazing and fun student teacher. You helped us a lot on every subject and you especially spend your time on comming to fieldtrips. When you came to some of the field trips you were always taking picures of us. Ms. Scotta told us that you are an excellent photographer and when she told us that you are were going to give us a dvd with pictures, videos, and music. I thought that it was the most special gift I ever had. When Ms. Scotta show us the dvd I was almost crying. Again thank you for this very special gift. I don't know if you remember but I am from France and I remembered that you were helping me at pronouncing number in english.' Roxane D.

'thank you for the pictures and I like all the fleacher marin headling. thank for make a dvd for us pictures. I like watercolors and I like the boats.' Muthana

'When we needed you you were like always there. I remmeber when we went to the moma museum I was in your group. I really miss you and friends miss you too. Thanks for being a good phothographer.' Paola H.

'First, I want to tell you thank you for helping Ms. Scotta with the students, and reading with us. Also, thank you for taking our halloween pictures, and our first 5th grade photographers. Next, I appreciate you and Ms. Scotta for having us improved our writing process, and my mathe skills.' Also, helping us do algebra, and fraction and even decimals, and percents. In conclusion I hope u could come back, and visit our school, and class again.' Tynesha D.

'Thank you 4 everything u did 4 us all year and u were a awsome photagrapher. It was a blast being with u in all the field trips. I really liked the Dvd u made 4 us it made me kinda like bursting out of sadness and crying.' Antonio Q.

'Thank you for being our class photographer and our class helper. We mostly liked that you took pictures of memories of our fifth grade year. I hope I have a teacher just like you in middle school.' Michael D.

'Thank you for giving us all your love to all the students I realy aprishiate that. Ms. Scotta chowed the students and me all the videos that you had done. That was so nice from you Mr. Braniff. I remember we went to the exploratorium and we so the eye of an cow and it was dicusting I really didn't like it because it was wird too.' Leslie P.

'Thank you for been whit us all the time and for been taking us photo and for been helping us and go whit us all the field trip and corect us no say bad words because there alot of them that are saying bad word in the school and Thank you for been reading whit us and been hyelping all the time and some times I didn't go whit you because I stay at home.' Anderson H.

'Thanks for being such a great volunteer. And I also wanna thank you for being our class photographer and for reading with us. In halloween I liked the costume you were wearing It was really funny when you pressed a button and water squirted out of the flower. When you came to our field trips it was funner than usual. The best field trip you were with us was Slide Ranch because you took pictures of us milking goat except me I did not want to milk one because it felt pretty weird.'

Volunteering the past two years has been a wonderful and rewarding experience for me. Sometimes it was frustrating. And sometimes when I was finished with my weekly four hour commitment I wanted to head to the nearest bar for a stiff drink! Thank you Liz for letting me be a volunteer in your classroom. And special thanks and gratitude goes to all of the students I have worked with over the past two years. You're the greatest!

'Wind River'

'Wind River' by Patrick Braniff

Ears hear
The unseen rushing
Move
Through narrow canyons
Of rustling leaves.

The guided whispers
Banked and channeled
Stir
Fields of winter wheat
And play clay chimes.

Pass this way but once.
Stand and feel
Rapids
Of throw away air
On wind-river's shore.

Disaster Clean-up 101

In order to understand 'Disaster Clean-up' you first have to create a good disaster! A good disaster sometimes takes days in the making, as it was at our house this past two weeks. For several days I kept smelling a bad odor in the kitchen area of the house. I examined everything to try and determine the source of the smell: food on the counter, the fridge, the garbage can, even the dog dishes. And then I examined them again, and again, and again over three or four days, never being able to determine the source of the foul odor. Finally, this past Monday I mentioned the smell to Dad. He too had been noticing the smell and couldn't find the source either. I headed over to Ontario to take care of some business and when I got back I found Dad in the basement. 'I've found the source of our problem.' he said. I went down the back stairs and walked into a playroom soaked with water. Kind of reminded me of that line from the very famous poem, 'Rhime of the Ancient Mariner' which goes like this 'Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink!'. Both bedrooms, the playroom and the utility room were soaked with water. It was apparent that they had been in this state for several days! What a mess! My first thought was, 'This is not how I had planned my day! This is not how I had planned my week!' For sure the disaster was now created!

Thank God for family! My little brother Tommy and his wife Kim came right over. We immediately began the process of pulling up the carpet and pad from all the rooms. Kim and I did everything we could to save anything of value that was in the basement. You have to understand that the basement was completely full of all kinds of stuff, mostly Mom's stuff from her years as a tap dance teacher, or her collection of screws and nails, or horse stuff, or scraps of fabric, or furniture, or or or ad infinitum! We ended up filling two dumpsters full of stuff we didn't save or didn't want. I threw away five turntables for playing vinyl records. We kept one in case someone wants to listen to Englebert Humberdink, one of Mom's old records which of course she saved, and so did we in turn! It took us two days to pull out all of the carpet and start the drying out process.

The insurance company insisted that they send in a Disaster Clean-up Contractor. They cut the drywall out, four feet high, all through the bedrooms and closets. They then put in six fans and two humidifiers for two days which just roared with noise. I was kinda wishing that like Dad I could take out my hearing aids to go to bed at night. The equipment finally left here yesterday. Disaster Clean-up finished.

Now we begin the reconstruction part of the project. We have to deal with a completely new insurance adjustor from another company since Dad's insurance does this outsource thing for different parts of the project. Must say they have been pretty easy to work with so far. Keep you posted.

The Day is the Story...

I forget sometimes that my happiness comes from the events of the life I live today, only today. For much of my life, I haven't been present enough to really enjoy and celebrate the pieces of the day that shine light on me. It's easy to wake up, immediately wrap yourself in the problems and behaviours of past days, and sometimes even past years. Justifying bad behaviour is easy when you present your problems. "You don't understand! If you had the same problems as I did I'm sure you would act the same! Probably much worse, since I'm better than you!" And of course this justification only made the problems and pain of my life grow bigger, taking on a life of their own. It was justifieded though. Just ask me. I would tell you. Not my fault!

Today I was able to celebrate my life with two cups of coffee, a toasted bagel with onion and chives cream cheese, fresh carrot and apple and ginger juice brewed in my juicer, watched Dakota run the puppy out of himself, chasing Starlings at the park; never catching them but running, first left, then right, then left, then right, again, hither nither until he collapsed at my feet with no puppy energy left (not even in one bone), pulled some weeks in the yard and set the water tractor for a pass-through irrigation, vacuumed the car out for my Dad and his lady friend who will travel tomorrow on their adventerous two days of celebration, took Dakota to Bully Creek to play in the water. and watched him put his head out the back window and then step on the electric window switch with one paw which closed the window tight to his neck trapping his whining head outside the car while his body wriggled inside to try and free himself! With some help from his Master (that's me), we were able to remedy his problem without him becoming too upset. All in all a great day. Enjoyed the moments. Celebrated my day. Loved my dog. Helped my dad.

No justification today for problems. There was only time today to celebrate love and light.

Art Beat

I've been to many a street fair! For the past 15-years I have lived in the San Francisco Bay Area. Street Fairs are a weekly event during the summer in San Francisco. They take place in different neighborhoods throughout the city. Each neighborhood has it's own theme. Some of my favorites were the Fillmore Street Fair (jazz), the Haight Street Fair (you could always buy a cool new pot pipe), the Castro Street Fair (great people watching), and the Folsom Street Fair ( 250,000 people celebrating sexual fetish - something you only need to see once). Street Fairs are a great way to connect with your community. And they don't cost much to attend.

On My 30th, I attended my first ever Street Fair in Eastern Oregon. It was held in my home town of Vale and was sponsored by the Drexel Foundation, a non-profit working to restore some of the old historic buildings in town, some of which will be used to promote the arts among young people who live here. The Drexel Foundation wants to restore the old Opera House and the Rex Theater, which has been closed for decades. I remember seeing Mary Poppins in the Rex when I was a child some 40-plus years ago. This was the second year this particular Street Fair has been held in Vale and was appropriately titled 'Art Beat'. It was held on Main Street, which is the oldest street in this Oregon Trail Town. The Old Stone House was built in 1872 and was originally called the Stage Coach Inn. It now houses the Vale Museum, which has a wonderful collection of Oregon Trail memorabilia.

The Street Fair had all the elements of the most successful ones I have ever attended: Live music (Headliner was Santana), booths selling crafts and jewelry, and of course activities where people, for a fee, could participate in some way to raise money for a worthy cause and at the same time have fun. 'Art Beat' booths included a dunk tank (hit the target with precision and drown some poor kid), a put put golf course (I was really entertained by the miss-spelling of 'put put' - see pictures), and the incredibly exciting bean bag toss and deep sea fishing booths (which each cost 1-ticket). And of course every Street Fair has something a little carnivalish and Art Beat was no different with it's Basket Ball Toss.

I had a great time! And as you can see, the success of a Street Fair is always measured by the smiles of happiness you see on your friends and neighbors faces.

I should mention that our live music headliner, Santana, was not the Santana of the 'Supernatural' album fame, but Santana Braniff, my niece, who is leaving around July 2nd to travel to Europe to sing in a choir of young people in four different countries before returning on the 18th. My little brother Tommy Braniff accompanied her on his guitar!

From my point of view, Art Beat was a smashing success!

My Favorite Poem - For 35-years Now...

Leap River, Toward Sky by Maxine R. Jennings

_________________________________

You, said my father in the forever of my youth,

Are like a river seething on a slate-blue morning.

Your malcontent reinforced by a cloudburst,

Your strength full and surging with eagerness, you shout

May the regiments of birch and willows be defeated!

Down with banks!

But like unyielding walls, my stalwarts towered on my right

And on my left; and they channeled my rushing.

_________________________________

Now, calm in a tall noon, I know about rivers.

For once I saw an armed and arrogant stream

Proclaim its triumph and promote itself to waterscape

In a muscle-wild invasion of everywhere.

Banks tumbled in chaos, weeds waded in shallows -

And a valley lay prostrate under gray waters

Knocking, shuddering, muttering zeros,

While the cracked dome of heaven wept, no shore, no shore.

Then the voice of the lost water rang with the words of my father,

And I recalled the wisdom of banks.

Bewildered in brassy hours, I think about rivers:

Another young stream, caught in the fren of his youth,

Presses to escape containing.

How this river, loud in its rush from the beginning,

Argues with banks - pounds them with watery protests,

Attacks them with waves, with waves!

Away with these absurdities

That tower on the right and on the left

To confine and to coil thes waters.

And the river recruits from the mountain

Other young streams waving foam banners and shouting.

Their logic demands the instant repeal of banks -

Is not river, whose form is the form of all rain,

Worthy of sun on more surface, more flowing room?

Let the hammered air report these banks unyielding:

Surge, river, and meet frustration.

Boast of your depth with your cataracts of half-reason,

Hurl your threats and your havoc, your wrath livid with current.

Certain in their holding are the stalwarts that tower

On the right and on the left; they will channel your rushing,

Till the valley for miles around is electric and light silvers the darkness.

__________________________________

Leap, river, toward sky; you are spilling freshlets

That lilt and linger on a tilting field,

And there is singing in the valley and plenty in the land.

Is there not also gratitude for banks?

Social Life? Not much for me!

My musical claim to fame happened at Vale Union High School, during my senior year, as a french horn player. In the spring of 1974 I traveled to Portland to perform in the state Solo and Ensemble Festival at the Oregon State Competition. I played Mozart's 4th Concerto for French Horn, all three movements, by memory. It took 35 minutes to complete. I took 5th place in the Oregon State finals. So when I was invited to attend the 'Spring Music Extravaganza' performed by the various music groups at the High School, I was very interested in attending. My niece is in the choir and I wanted to hear her sing.

The performance was held in the school cafeteria, just like before. There is a stage in the cafeteria. The tables and benches, for eating lunch, were put away in the wall cupboards, and chairs had been set up for the audience. The choir sang first. It was an all girls choir (small in number), which surprised me. Where were the young men? And then it was time for the Concert Band to play. The curtain came up and there they were, all five of them. Someone was playing the flute, another the clarinet, a trumpet player and a bass saxaphone player, finished off by someone on the piano. That was it! No percussion! No french horn! Where was the oboe, kettle drum, trombone section? Where was the concert band? I was shocked. I was looking forwad to some sort of cultural entertainment and this was it. I later found out that one of the members of the band was sick (I would have been sick too if I had been forced to perform in that kind of music extravaganza). But who knows, perhaps that one extra person would have made the difference. This was my first attempt to immerse myself into the social fabric of my new community.

Please understand, I'm not making fun of this, I'm just commenting on my experience. I know that funding for education has been drastically cut across America over the past number of years. This experience flew in my face, in a very real way, how these cuts affect our young people. Learning the arts and music is something that has enriched my life greatly. I hope these students get the opportunity to learn how the different art forms make a life more complete, whether it is music, sculpture, photography, painting, or gourmet cooking. I really believe the arts are a means of making our humanity more compassionate and our spirits more present, as we understand and create the beauty that surrounds us in our lives. Learning these skills at school is a great place to start.