Doni Chamberlain and son Joseph Domke (ANC founder) at the March 20 James Madison Freedom of Information Awards in San Francisco hosted by the Society of Professional Journalists, Northern California Chapter.
Now that I’ve passed the Shasta County Board of Supervisors coverage baton to veteran journalist R.V. Scheide, I have more mental space to recalibrate, restore and explore random thoughts about various matters unrelated to the Shasta County Shitshow’s nearly five years of insanity, starting with COVID 19.
Indulge me today as I share this and that, and various things on my mind, in no particular order.
• Since I last checked in, I received the Golden Sledgehammer award from the Society of Professional Journalists. The 2025 sledgehammer joins the slate coaster in my living room engraved with “Courage in Journalism Award” from the Sacramento Press Club last year. While it’s an honor to be recognized by my peers, being assaulted twice in two years while working as a journalist seems to have contributed to my awards. I’d rather live in a county where law enforcement took action against assaults upon journalists.
• Speaking of shitshow, because I live in a 1938 house that has persnickety sewer pipes, nothing other than toilet paper can be flushed, ESPECIALLY not wipes of any kind, even the so-called flushable ones. (Skip this passage if it’s TMI for you.) One of the reasons I’m an anti-flushed-wipes ambassador is because my plumber has lectured me on this very subject, way back before I knew better. Your average person believes the words on packaging that claims wipes are flushable. To illustrate this mistruth in advertising, I came across this unscripted video by one of the dedicated, talented plumbers who works for a company that’s been with me and my old houses for more than 15 years. Apologies in advance for the f-bombs, but this is clearly one frustrated guy. Once you see this, you will never flush another so-called flushable wipe again.
• A pronunciation pet peeve: More and more, the word “important” is losing its first “t”, so it’s often pronounced “impor-ent”, even by news anchors and professional speakers. The endangered “t” is happening with other words that contain a “t” somewhere in the middle, such as cur’ains, kit’en, cer’ain, but’on, and writ’en.
• Some years ago a trend emerged in retail establishments where, the moment a customer’s foot crossed the threshold, a nearby employee would quickly yell out, “welcome in!” It’s not just a Shasta County thing. It’s everywhere. No doubt the intent is to put shoppers on notice to let them know they’re seen, whether out of friendliness, or to deter shoplifting. Either way, although I appreciate the motivation, it’s always driven me a bit crazy, because the word “in” is unnecessary. Just “welcome” will suffice. Ditch the “in”.
All these years, the one and only time I’ve heard a store employee say “welcome” minus “in” was from a clerk inside the Dollar Tree on Athens Avenue about a year ago. I complimented her on being one of the few people I’ve heard anywhere just say, “Welcome” rather than the superfluous “Welcome in”. She had such a cultured countenance about her that if she were living at Downton Abby, she’d be upstairs. She had a sweet expression upon her face, adorned with large glasses. She spoke quietly, and without looking up from her cash register as she rung up my items, she said, “Well, it’s the correct thing to say. There’s no need to say “in” after “welcome. It’s just, “Welcome!” I nearly wept with understanding. We chatted a bit. Turns out she works two jobs, one of which is at Walmart. She’s also a college student. I think she’s got a good future ahead of her. For what it’s worth, she said occasionally a shopper will admonish her for omitting the word “in” in her welcoming greeting.
• Show me somebody who’s never sprayed Windex on leftover birthday cake before tossing it in the trash and I’ll show you someone who doesn’t have an eating disorder.
• Dear City of Redding: It’s been a while since I brought this up, but please consider my suggestion for a city slogan: Redding, the city of trails and bridges. It’s positive, it’s accurate, it’s conducive to relevant logos, and it reflects the concept of a city that’s not stagnant, a city that’s going places. Seriously. Consider it, please. Thank you, and you’re welcome.
• While I’ve got the City of Redding’s attention, I suggest it consider doing as Modesto has, with a fun citywide Modesto Garagefest. The city provides maps, posters, stickers and even T-shirts for those who sign up to participate.
• Shasta County may have its issues – especially since 2020 — but there are many good people here. Today, I give three cheers for Doug at the Safeway on Pine Street for having the patience (multiple times) to teach me how to use the Safeway app to do everything from clip online coupons to scan sale items. Thank you, Doug.
• I’ve done a few kitchen remodels, and my next kitchen remodel will include a ceiling fan, to keep the super sensitive smoke alarms from going off.
• Also regarding kitchen remodels, take it from me and NEVER buy a copper kitchen sink. They are a pain to keep clean. Give me porcelain or stainless any day.
• All my adult life I’ve wanted an outdoor wood-burning oven, starting with an ’80’s Sunset Magazine plan for one created from a cardboard oil drum.
It’s been a few years since I put in an order with Kyle Wymore, a local man who owns Oasis Woodfire Oven LLC, and crafts wood-burning outdoor ovens. During a conversation about ongoing delays, he shared how difficult it is for him to find and keep good workers to help make bread ovens, or do all kinds of other work he has available. He’s willing to teach them, but he said that in his experience, a lot of young men just aren’t interested in working, or if they are, once on the job site they rip off his tools, or they arrive late, or they’re on drugs, or they never return. Because of this shortage of workers, Wymore said his ovens may be no more, and mine might might be his last, at least for a while.
Doni Chamberlain stands next to her long-awaited wood-burning outdoor oven with Kyle Wymore, the oven’s creator. (It’s not ready for baking. Some internal work is still needed.)
• The sickest I ever got was after eating discount lamb found in Safeway’s “manager’s special” section.
• I’ll know I’m wealthy when I never buy marked-down grocery store meat again.
• Although I’m in detox of sorts after monitoring nearly five years’ of Shasta County Board of Supervisors meetings, it was such an ingrained part of my life that it’s been tough to go cold turkey. To wean myself from the meetings now that R.V.’s covering them, I occasionally tune into the live streaming sessions, especially to get a read on the three new supervisors. So far, I’m most impressed with District 2 Supervisor Allen Long for his intellect, civility, speaking ability, knowledge, his obvious heart for our people, and his willingness to challenge board chair Kevin Crye.
On the other end of the spectrum I am least impressed with District 3 Supervisor Corkey Harmon. He’s shown himself not to be his own man, which was the opposite of his campaign promise. Instead, on the most important votes (like selecting the chair), he votes in lockstep with Crye. Harmon is the antithesis of Long. Harmon is unprepared, ignorant, and complains about such inconveniences as having to drive in big-city traffic to reach Sacramento for county business. Harmon doesn’t speak much, but when he does, he mumbles and stumbles so badly that spectators hold their collective breath hoping Harmon can make his point with as few grammatical errors, flawed facts and as little butchered, disjointed rhetoric as possible. Observe that if Harmon does venture to speak, it’s to share a story about himself or his business, as if he lacks the sophistication and basic intellect to conceptualize anything about which he cannot personally relate.
During the Shasta County Board of Supervisor’s special meeting tomorrow to select the next Registrar of Voters, Harmon has another chance to demonstrate whether he has the mental acuity and fortitude to select Assistant ROV Joanna Francescut as the obvious stellar choice for ROV. Or, will he follow Crye’s demented lead, and choose yet another inexperienced MAGA train wreck that will once again make Shasta County a national laughing stock?
Bets, anyone?
• As I drive around Redding I see the ghosts of bygone places that I really miss. For example, I miss the Salvation Army downtown, that’s now a Bethel Church affiliated business. I miss the People of Progress thrift store. I miss Tuesday Morning on Hilltop Drive. I miss La Cabana Mexican Restaurant, and the entire Manzo family. I miss Carnegie’s across from the Post Office, and its tomato basil soup. Those are in my fairly recent memory.
Going even further back, I miss the Cake Company on Bechelli Lane. (I would give my left-handed ex-husband’s left arm for the Cake Company’s brownie recipe). And I have fond memories of Woolworth’s downtown (southwest corner of Placer and Market.) It had a long luncheon counter, where my sisters and I occasionally went with our mom and ordered ice cream sodas, a fountain item that’s gone the way of payphones. At Woolworth’s we also bought movie candy to sneak into the Cascade Theatre across the street. But the best part of Woolworth’s was in the back corner, where it featured a mini pet store, with creatures like tiny turtles and parakeets. Or you could get your photo taken in the little photo booth.
What bygone North State places do you miss?
While you ponder, I’ll tell you something I don’t miss; the Shasta County Board of Supervisors meetings. Thank you, R.V.!
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