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George Muteff: 20,000 words and counting! |
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Written by Darin Boville
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Thursday, 18 September 2008 12:17 |
Our hearty congratulations to Half Moon Bay resident George Muteff for achieving what many thought impossible--posting north of 20,000 words in a two week period, September 1st through 15th, 2008, on the HMB Review’s forum, TalkAbout. It appears that George's output of ninety-three psosts in that time period is, far and away, the most voluminous in coastside forum history.
Clay Lambert, Editor of the Half Moon Bay Review and moderator of the TalkAbout forum, declined to comment.
George’s favorite topics are out-of-office City Councils, puppet-master Mike Ferreira, and a small plot of weeds near current Councilman Grady’s house.
Muteff’s post are often long and rambling. Many times they are a play by play description of eight-year-old City Council meetings. Occasionally other citizens will respond to George’s posts.
By way of comparison, op-ed columns often run about 500 words. By that metric George has produced over forty op-ed columns in just two weeks!
Barry Parr, publisher of the popular website Coastsider.com, when informed of the news that Muteff had exceed all previous records asked, "George who?" We've contacted Muteff and will include his (highly edited!) comments when he responds.
You can get a taste of the excitement at these representative threads:
1. “Were The 2000-2005 Council Members Litigious?”
2. ”Let’s Look At The Personnel”
3. ”What We Know”
Our congratulations to George!
Photograph by Darin Boville
Updated 8/3/08 to include the number of posts (93) made by Mr. Muteff. |
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A Tree Falls In Montara |
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Written by Darin Boville
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Thursday, 24 July 2008 19:15 |
The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. --William Blake
When I bought the house in Montara I noticed the large Monterey Cypress tree out front was leaning...but lots of trees lean.
Later I noticed that many of the branches on the house side had been cut by prior owners putting most of the weight of the tree on the other side. But that is common, too.
I’m “pro-tree.” I think it is criminal how people cut down trees on the coast on the flimsiest of pretexts. They want sunny but yet they bought in Montara. What part of “fog” didn’t they understand?
So I defended the tree. Over the next four years some people suggested that it was a danger, that was leaning too much, that the next big wind storm might knock it over. I pooed pooed such silly, and perhaps cowardly, ideas. (Secretly, during high winds, I moved my kids out of their bedroom--just in reach should the tree fall on the house--to spend the night farther back in the house).
But then came the National Geographic moment. I was standing in my drive one day, after dusk, looking up in the tree for owls. That's when I noticed the smoke pouring out of the edge of an old trunk-cut. It was a weird smoke, coming out from under the bark as if under pressure. In the dim light I was puzzled but my young daughter’s fresher eyes saw better than mine. “Those are termites, Dad.” And so they were. Seemingly millions of them, making an exodus out of my front yard tree.
This was at the same time exhilarating--Nature, in action!--and disturbing--hmmm, that tree must weigh a zillion pounds and it sure does lean.
The next day I took a rock and pounded on the tree. The road side of the tree seemed solid enough but the house side rang hollow. The side the termites came from.
That was the moment I turned against my tree.
Fast forward past the arborist inspection ($350, by the way) and the trip to get a tree-cutting permit in Redwood City (another three-hundred some dollars, by the way--the clerk rolled her eyes when I told her that cutting trees was controversial on the coastside).
Now I have a bright yellow tree cutting notice nailed to the Cypress.
Now I have become a pariah of the neighborhood.
I watch people drive by the house, slowing when they see the notice, shaking their heads in disgust. I get e-mail from neighbors decrying my decision and pointing out the glowing health of tree (“I don’t see any signs of termites.”) I overhear snatches of conversation as people walk by using words like “disgust,” “what a shame,” and “illegal.”
I get dirty looks. I don’t like it.
I’m required to display this yellow sign for ten days and the County has promised to come out unannounced to photograph my sign as part of the permitting process. One neighbor (or a committee of them) rips down my permit sign during the night and casts it into the bushes. I nail it back up. They rip it down. I nail it up. They rip it down.
I start to feel besieged and unwelcome.
Tree-cutting day can’t come soon enough and at last it arrives. The buzzsaws buzz. The sawdust drifts through the air. Branch by branch the tree comes down. It takes three days.
Three days of neighbors driving by, walking by, three days of neighbors e-mailing me. Disgust. Shame. Illegal. Their attitude is different now, more confident. If before I was merely accused, with the first bite of the chainsaw I am convicted.
When the main trunk finally slowly tilts and then falls over I clearly feel the vibration through my shoes from fifty feet away. I’m sure every neighbor in Montara clutched at their chest at that very instant, sighing in despair at the loss of a loved one.
But as I approach the fallen trunk I feel a thrill of righteous vindication--the broken tree stump is pocked with dark blotches, with soft-wood cavities, dark and rotted looking. Wood from the center of the tree crumples in my hand moist and as light as balsa wood.
“It was rotted out!” I shout, up and down the road, shaking the spongy wood at the window of every passing car. “It was rotted out!”
The next day I notice neighbors driving by the house, walking by the house, some inspecting the sawdust-covered tree stump. They shake their heads in disgust. I get an e-mail saying what a shame the tree was cut down since the stump shows no sign of termites.
What a shame.
Click here for a slideshow of rotted tree images. |
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The Digging Has Begun! |
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Written by Darin Boville
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Monday, 17 September 2007 20:56 |
I hate handshake shots. I never shoot them. It’s “staged news”--usually presented with the staging element invisible to the viewer which only makes me hate them more.
Think of a photo that might be captioned “The President shares an quiet moment with the First Lady” and you get one idea. And then see the wide angle version of the same shot with fifty press photographers forming a wall of cameras and flashes just inches from the President’s and First Lady’s faces and you get the idea of what I am talking about.
Next thing you know a generation of reporters have been conditioned by the easy pickings and live almost entirely off of such staged news events. Add in your sensational fires and crimes and, bingo, that’s what passes for news at most television news stations and newspapers. It’s no wonder viewers and readers are abandoning these “traditional” outlets like fleas from a drowning dog. They still serve a need, of course--it is just that the need they serve isn’t our need.
But this morning a friend came by on the way to the Caltrans tunnel opening event and invited me along--and so I went.
And I had fun. Congressman Lantos gave an excellent speech contrasting today, the anniversary of the completion of the drafting of the Constitution, with the tunnel, a smaller example of the People working their will. Supervisor Rich Gordon and State Senator Leland Yee also gave very nice talks. So good were all three that I regretted not bringing my video camera. Sorry.
And then the photo op. Videographers and photographers can be terribly uninventive. If you are running an event and want to control the coverage, all you have to do it offer a good visual, the photo opportunity, and *that* will be the image they run, the clip they makes the airwaves.
In this case the organizers were planning to have a image of Lennie Roberts--the citizen-leader of the movement to substitute the tunnel for the “bypass” (read: four-lane highway through Montara into Moss Beach)--working the controls of the digging machine to make the first scratch into the mountain to begin the tunnel. Now look at the coverage on the television and local papers and we’ll compare notes about how many used that image--and ponder the independence of the press.
But it was good to see Roberts getting credit, and April Vargas was there who also deserves our applause (along with many others).
For me, the digging of the tunnel marks a more important moment in our coastal history. It was the tunnel that galvanized the citizens of our community and led to the formation and strengthening of local political groups. Wavecrest then added fuel to that fire, dividing the coast into “developers” and no-growthers” even more.
The digging of the tunnel has begun. Wavecrest is about to change ownership to POST. Two great victories for activists along the coast. But now the great challenges are gone. The challenges that brought people together have been overcome. What now?
See a gallery of photographs from the event in our Photo Gallery.
{mos_fb_discuss:3}
Photos by Darin Boville |
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A House on a Hill? |
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Written by Darin Boville
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Friday, 22 June 2007 20:59 |
Sometimes things that seem so clear at a distance become indistinct up close.
Here's a photograph of 1050 Acacia (the big house in the background looming like a yuppie version of Dracula's castle over the helpless single-story house in the foreground). Obvious example of greedy developer building a house too tall? Going as far as to bring in dirt to raise the ground level in order to make the house even taller in order to secure those ocean views?
Here's another photograph.
Peek through the trees, squint one eye, and if you stand in just the right way you'll see the back of Rob Carey's house. Rob is upset. Rob is very upset. Rob built a web page. Rob says that Ron (Ron Nelson, the builder) broke the law in building his tall--nay--looming, house and now Rob's privacy is greatly infringed upon.
Lots of "Ron's" and "Rob's" in that last paragraph. It's confusing.
It gets even more confusing. Rob's house is a one story house. Ron's is a two story. Given how close houses are here in California that is sort of a recipe for one house looking down into the backyard of the other.
But in the end we are talking about a few feet--did Ron (that's the builder) raise his house beyond the legal limit? I don't know. There sure is a lot of fresh dirt there. But getting into the blueprints and building codes is a matter best left to others.
More important, though, is the underlying question--whether he did or he didn't, does a few feet matter in terms of the privacy of the house to the rear, Rob's house (that's the neighbor).
I went up to the second floor of the new house and looked out the window. I looked down into the neighbor's yard. I looked at Rob's rear windows. I could see everything.
Then I got down on my knees and looked out the second story window again. Sort of like lowering the house by a few feet. I could still see everything. There was no difference at all.
So I don't know. If Ron (the builder) raised his middle finger to spirit and letter of the law then I hope he gets what he has coming. I hope he will be made an example to others. But otherwise I'm finding it hard to get worked up about this one.
(Read an earlier report on 1050 Acacia at Coastsider.com)
{mos_fb_discuss:3}
Photos by Darin Boville
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