Regarding the letters about vaccinations— has anybody noticed that polio has all but disappeared from the U.S.? As a 5-year-old living in San Francisco in 1953, I had what everyone hoped was a bad cold. I remember in late July, Dr. O’Gara (doctors made house calls then) shook his head and packed his little bag and left. Later, I stepped out of bed and fell, my spine stiff as a board, crippled with polio. That evening, quarantined away from my mother and father, I experienced one of the most horrifying nights of my life at Children’s Hospital; I was in a room full of other screaming, terrified, crippled children. The Salk vaccine had not come to the public quite yet and many people, including Canadian musicians Joni Mitchell and Neil Young, were afflicted with polio before the Salk and Sabin vaccines; Salk was an injection and Sabin came on a sugar cube. Jonas Salk, in one of the most impressive generosities I’ve yet learned of, refused any financial remuneration for his vaccine.
I really have not heard a convincing argument for refusing to vaccinate a child against measles; in some Arab nations, religious fanatics railed against polio vaccinations, preferring to try for some political/religious bunk by declaring the mass injections to be a Western conspiracy to sterilize Muslims. Since Islam has the most followers in the world, I guess those hysterics were not true.
You’ve got to fight, for your right … to measles paaartay!
Thank you Don Harte of Corte Madera, for your rebuttal [“Measles Schmeasles!,” Feb. 13] to the articles that use fear, shame and guilt to justify taking away a parent’s right to choose to vaccinate or not to vaccinate their children. When I grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, autism, asthma, diabetes and cancer were very rare and virtually unheard of for children. Most of us got the flu, measles, chicken pox, mumps and so on and lived through them just fine, and I never knew of anyone with any lasting consequences.
And, according to Dr. Anne Schuchat, the director of CDC’s National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, in an Associated Press story picked up by Fox News on April 2014, there had been no measles deaths reported in the U.S. since 2003. Nor have any deaths been revealed in CDC’s Morbidity and Mortality weekly reports. Yet during the same 10-year period, the U.S. Government’s database report, called the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS), reports 108 deaths from measles vaccines.
If we all stand up for our right to know and freedom to choose the way we want to stay healthy—including whether or not we choose to use vaccines—we will be protecting a fundamental right we cannot afford to lose.
What, you got nothing to say about Kolker’s baseball poem that week?
The grotesque level of bigotry, backed up by the lack of any comprehension of immunology, toxicology and the vitalistic paradigm of Chiropractic, is astounding. Then there is the lack of basic reading comprehension. Then there’s the lack of just being brought up properly, between the nastiness and the lack of respect. In decent society, chiropractors are referred to as “Dr.” (Or do we not deserve that title because we don’t kill anyone?)
Mr. Gardin, you say that smallpox was wiped out by vaccination [“We’re Hoping They Rolf Ebola to Eradication,” Feb. 20]. What about scarlet fever, typhoid, the polio epidemic in the 1920s and the Black Plague? Infectious diseases have their cycles, including measles. The great infectious diseases of previous centuries were not defeated by modern medicine. They were defeated, for the most part, by modern sanitation, refrigeration, etc.
Ms. Silverstein, I criticized the false concept of “herd immunity” [Suffer the Little Children, and Forbid Them Not Their Vaccinations,” Feb. 20]. You cannot have vaccination that works, yet doesn’t work, because there are those who are not vaccinated. I made no mention of “herd mentality,” though you may offer up a fair example of such. I never insulted parents who choose to vaccinate. While I am against vaccination, I have not made a case for prohibiting such, while you and many others want to force people to vaccinate their children “for the greater good.” That’s called tyranny.
Ah, now we come to Mr. Minikes [“Be Careful or You’ll Ruin the Credibility of Chiropractic,” Feb. 20], who fancies himself a scientist, and claims that he is upset that I used the term “medical Nazis,” that I use the term “Nazi” too casually. Well, Mr. Minikes, I, too, am Jewish, so I do not use that term “Nazi” lightly. When a ruling class co-opts medicine (both Hitler and Stalin did it “for the greater good”), and forces medical procedures on people, even healthy people, against their will, that is a despicable thing. We are seeing such a thing now, as our “enlightened” state legislature is formulating a bill to eliminate the personal belief vaccination exemption. The now everyday practice in medicine of “informed consent” came about from what was heard during the post-World War II Nuremberg trials. Informed consent is not done with mandatory vaccinations.
Mr. Minikes makes mention of Jon Stewart’s now-famous goofing on Marin. Frankly, I don’t find this sort of hatred funny, nor do I find the Marin “sticking-your-nose-in-everyone’s-business-because-I’m-more-progressive-than-you” attitude funny. What is wrong with parental choice in vaccination? And how can you know more if you are willing to follow the doctor off the cliff with your children and, maybe, trade measles for autism or leukemia or Type I diabetes? Minikes says that I was doing a “sales job” because I mentioned Chiropractic. Really? Have you ever considered how much medicine, in general, and vaccines, in particular, are sold? In how many places? Maybe, soon, you can get your vaccinations at the take-out window at Jack-in-the-Box. But, please, “ask your doctor” if autism is right for your child.
Speaking of real Nazis, there’s the next letter [“Sure, But Then How Would the Incumbents Get Re-elected?” Feb. 20], accusing Prime Minister Netanyahu of “warmongering.” Really? Is it warmongering to want to survive? I wonder if the writer of this disgusting letter has an SS uniform in his closet. Red shirt … Brown shirt … same totalitarian garbage! As a Jew, no one’s going to herd me into a cattle car. And as a chiropractor, no one will silence me, or, in any way, make me ride in the back of the bus. Get some decency and some common sense, Marin!
Meanwhile, I continue to “sell” natural health, to help as many people as I can get as healthy as they can. As they say in my native New York, “You got a problem with that?”
Q: I met this man a few years ago, and it was like a thunderbolt struck us—the stuff movies are made of. He told me that his female roommate was just a friend. We went on a few dates before I realized that she was actually his girlfriend. He promised that they were going to break up, so I hung around for a bit, but of course it never happened. Last year, I ran into him, and he said he was no longer with that woman and wanted to date me. I turned him down flat because I figured that if he was going to lie and cheat on her, then he would do the same to me. I’m kicking myself now because I have never met anyone like him. Is it really “once a cheater, always a cheater,” or could it be different for us? I have to put this to bed in my mind because I can’t stop thinking that I missed out on “the one.” —Opportunity Lost
A: Sure, your encounter with this man was “the stuff movies are made of”—the ones in which Godzilla comes clomping through town and puts his big clawed foot through the roof of some poor villager’s house.
What you should be doing is tiring your arm out by patting yourself on the back. You showed presence of mind in drop-kicking “the one”—the one who, before long, would have been in a bar telling some woman that you’re just his “roommate.” But now your loneliness is telling your logic to put a sock in it, luring you into a common error in evaluating risk that behavioral economists call “optimism bias.” This is best explained as the “I’m special!” bias and involves the unrealistic thinking that the bad things that befall other people will see us and go, “Nuh-uh…no way…not her!”
Though we know—usually from painful experience—that character change is hard (and rare), optimism bias leads us to flirt with bright ideas like, “Maybe he’s done with the cheating!” It’s probably easier to think that now, not having seen him for a while. And the reality is, even serial killers sometimes go dormant. This shouldn’t be taken as a sign that they’ve grown weary of cutting up the neighbors and storing them in Ziploc bags in their freezer.
Real change, when it happens, comes with signs that there’s been a transformation—like expressions of deep remorse about being unethical and a sea change in a person’s moral standards. And these are just the preliminaries. Character change is revealed through action—over time. Sure, you could keep this guy at arm’s length for a year while you observe his behavior. Or, instead of hoping against hope for character change, you could opt for a change of characters, as in getting out there and meeting new men. Should you fall back into feeling wistful about this guy, remind yourself of German psychoanalyst and philosopher Erich Fromm’s thinking that love isn’t just “a feeling”—it’s something you “do” (in this guy’s case, to more than one woman at a time). Or as one of my other favorite 20th century philosophers, a Dr. E. Fudd, put it, “Good widdance to bad wubbish.”
Q: I often come off needy and desperate, so I’m trying to play it cool with this great new guy I’m dating—a new and difficult tactic for me. There are two other guys who are into me. I’m not into them, but I’m tempted to keep them on the back burner—you know, throw them a few crumbs now and then to keep them hooked so they can be a distraction from the new guy. I know this is user-y, so I haven’t decided to do it, but I also haven’t come clean about where I’m really at. And I have to admit I don’t mind the validation they give me. Ugh. —Torn
A: If you’re going to turn men into emotional support knickknacks, why not go all the way? Cut their hearts out and stick them in Mason jars with cute labels written in glitter pen. What you’re contemplating is romantic fraud. Sure, stacking up irrelevant men like firewood so you can climb into the arms of the man you want is easier than exploring why you “often come off needy and desperate.” A wild guess: Because you are?
Typically, this comes out of trying to use a guy for jobs he can never fill, like making you feel OK about you. If that’s the problem, get to work on fixing it. In the meantime, avoid coming off needy and desperate by acting like a woman who might end up wanting a man but doesn’t need him. That woman doesn’t barrage him with calls, texts and surprise visits—or text back with an immediacy that suggests she’s been hovering over her phone like a starving hawk circling the den of the last prairie dog on earth. Get your restraint where you can, like by responding to a text from him by giving your phone to somebody to lock in a drawer for an hour.
Waiting to text back will help you come off like the woman you should try to be—one who embodies the understanding that emotional security comes from within—and no, not from within a bunch of other people.
No doubt you’ve noticed a tendency among theater critics, myself included, to describe the merits of a show in a review’s initial paragraphs, leaving any bad news for the last sentence or two. We do this knowing full well that many readers will never get there, the motivation being that this very fragile art form needs all the help it can get and it would be a shame if our subjective negative opinions discouraged someone with different sensibilities from attending.
As that rationale clashes with a critic’s duty to uphold recognized artistic standards and provide a truthful account of his or her experience, I’ve tried to limit the delay tactic and therefore am absolutely delighted when a production comes along that requires no splitting of moral hairs. We now have one such show in our own midst in the form of Marin Theatre Company’s current Bay Area premiere of The Convert, by Danai Gurira.
This gripping drama about the clash of native African and British colonial cultures in late 19th century Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), might be a trifle over long at just under three hours; the rapidly spoken Africanized English dialogue is at times difficult to understand, and it has an unexpectedly melodramatic ending. But, in both conception and performance the play is an undeniable tour de force that requires no tactical defense.
Though born in Ohio, Gurira is the daughter of Zimbabwean parents and her childhood was spent partly in Zimbabwe and partly in this country. Her professional career has been extremely varied, combining award-winning acting and playwriting in the U.S. with teaching stints in Liberia, South Africa and Zimbabwe. The Convert is the first leg of a planned trilogy that will trace the evolution of African society as Western domination wanes and is eventually ended. It’s a remarkably ambitious project that, though smaller in scale, reminds me of August Wilson’s series of plays about the black diaspora in America after the abolition of slavery. If future segments turn out to be anywhere near as powerful in their impact, we may be witnessing the emergence of a major new voice in our national theater.
Although the title is singular, there are actually two religious converts at the center of Gurira’s drama. The first is Chilford, a tall, thin, black man whose dress, manner and speech are almost a caricature of a Victorian church deacon—except that Chilford (Jabari Brisport in a finely detailed performance), despite having converted to Cathoicism as a child and earnestly preparing himself, has been unable to achieve his goal of entering the priesthood. Instead, the British Native Commision has given him a position as a lowly missionary whose job is to coax animism-practicing Africans into the Christian fold. Imagine, then, his joy when his flamboyant housekeeper, Mai Tamba (Elizabeth Carter), asks him to protect her beautiful niece Jekesai (Katherine Renee Turner) from an unwanted arranged marriage to a much older man, saying that the girl desires to be tutored by him so that she, too, can convert. He immediately renames her Ester after the biblical figure and designates her his protègè.
From that point on, a number of colorful characters swirl around this core trio as the conflict between natives and occupiers intensifies and they are caught in the middle. Actors filling out one of the most talented ensembles I’ve seen locally include JaBen Early, L. Peter Callender, Jefferson A. Russell and Omoze Idehenre. Besides his casting skill, MTC’s artistic director, Jasson Minadakis, provides a crisp staging that keeps the audience involved even when Gurira, in a bid to heighten the play’s realistic atmosphere, has her characters use the native idiom.
In summary, quite an achievement all around.
Charles Brousse can be reached at cb******@*tt.net.
NOW PLAYING
The Convert runs through Sunday, March 15 at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Avenue, Mill Valley. For more information, call 415/388-5208 or visit bo*******@**********re.org.
Chocolate cardamom cookies made with cricket flour. Moringa-based energy bars, and a device that helps farmers know exactly how much water to use on their crops. These were just a few of the cutting-edge products that were looking for funding at SF New Tech’s FoodBytes! Summit that took place on February 25 at the Bluxome Street Winery in San Francisco. “It used to be big food that was innovating, but that has flipped—it’s new, nimble, small companies that are at the forefront of emerging markets,” explained Nick Fereday, executive director and senior analyst at Rabobank International (a sponsor of the event), who oversees food and consumer trends out of the bank’s New York office.
The mastermind behind this matchmaking fest between tech, venture capital and cottage industries is Myles Weissleder, founder of SF New Tech, who assures attendees that they will “see live demonstrations from rising stars who are innovating and disrupting in the food industry.” And we did. One of those disruptors is Bitty Foods, which has partnered with chef/restaurateur Tyler Florence to produce a line of cookies and treats prepared with cricket flour.
Bitty Foods Founder Megan Miller said she had originally named her company Chirp, but found that the moniker made it hard for consumers to get beyond the visual of, well, eating insects. But here’s the thing—not only did the orange ginger cookie samples taste good, but the flour yields 28g of protein per cup. And here is its biggest selling point—it takes about a gallon of water to raise one pound of crickets, compared to 2,000 gallons of water for a pound of beef. Now that sounds like a sustainable product to me. Learn more at www.bittyfoods.com.
In all, 12 companies had 10 minutes each to present their products and indicate how much money they were hoping to raise. Along with “real” investors, attendees were invited to download the conference app and were given a virtual $5 million dollars to invest in their favorite choices. The company that accrued the most dollar votes received a People’s Choice Award that included a trip to New York City and a case of wine. Shawn Patrick, founder and CEO of Patrick’s Fine Sodas, received the coveted award for his Santa Fe, New Mexico-based company that makes probiotic sodas featuring Willy Wonka-like labels and peppy flavors.
Not only was it encouraging to see the tech and finance sectors paying real attention to these little food startups (some who have barely moved their operations out of their home kitchens and garages), but the level of social-mindedness these young entrepreneurs displayed was downright heartening. It wasn’t lost on this group that not only should a product taste good (and it does have to taste good), but it needs to be something that makes sense globally in a world of increasingly diminishing resources. I’m hoping the investors who attended FoodBytes were as encouraged as I was by the impressive lineup of forward-thinking producers and will be inspired to put their money where their mouths are! For more information, visit www.foodbytessummit.com.
STUB TO GRUB Here is another good idea with an important mission: The SF-Marin Food Bank has partnered with BART to make good on all of those partially used BART tickets that have remaining value on them. The Tiny Tickets Program will collect these leftover tickets and turn them into donations that can help provide food for communities in need. Drop off your tickets or mail them to the SF-Marin Food Bank (Attn: Tiny Tickets Program), and help feed your neighbors with the leftover change on those BART stubs. For more information, visit www.sfmfoodbank.org.
TASTE OF MARIN Eat and drink for a good cause! The biggest fundraiser for Fair Housing of Marin takes place on Thursday, March 12 at 6pm at the Marin Art & Garden Center in Ross. A diverse sampling of select Marin restaurants, live music, dancing and a raffle will all be on the menu. Tickets are $120 per person. For more information, visit www.fairhousingmarin.com.
Share your hunger pains with Tanya at th****@********un.com.
David Templeton sits down with Marin-based singer-songwriter Olivia Davis to talk about the ups and downs that inspired her first CD and the Christmas present that changed her life. Charles Brousse reviews Marin Theatre Company’s latest production The Convert. Our resident Dirt Diva is at it again and is talking organic milk–do you know where Starbucks gets its milk? Meanwhile Leona Moon lets you in on a few celestial secrets in this week’s horoscope. All that and more in this week’s issue of the Pacific Sun, available online and on stands today.
Heidi Kuhn, fifth-generation member of a founding family in Marin and a mother of four, established Roots of Peace in 1997 out of her great respect for her mother and her passionate conviction that the earth should be safe for children. She works courageously to remove landmines, the deadly seeds of war planted in the earth, and replaces these seeds of war with roots of hope and sustenance. Roots of Peace has worked in Croatia, Angola, Bosnia, Iraq, and Israel/West Bank, and current projects continue in Afghanistan and Vietnam.
Roots of Peace reclaims farmland despoiled by landmines, partners with American universities to bring best practices for environmentally appropriate agricultural, and assists and educates the local farmers to raise, market and ship high-value produce, enhancing their income at least threefold. These projects promote sustainable agriculture and education (in addition to training the farmers, Roots of Peace builds or enhances schools for children, and replaces formerly mined soccer fields).
Teaming with her husband Gary, who defines and shepherds the agricultural projects, Kuhn has built a dedicated staff and strong partnerships with the California wine industry and the U.S. and foreign governments.
Mrs. Kuhn’s commitment to this cause has been at great personal sacrifice. She continues to participate and support local groups here in Marin, as her heart lies here, and the beauty of her life in Marin inspires her to “pay it forward” and help make life better for someone less fortunate. She truly is a hero.
Ups and downs, flips and turns, twists and changes—that pretty much defines me,” says Olivia Davis with a laugh, her smile so convincingly upbeat that one would not easily guess at the rough road she’s traveled to arrive at this moment in time, a sunny morning in Marin County, freshly printed CDs in her bag, sitting at a coffee shop in San Rafael, sharing a cup of tea—along with her remarkable story— with a journalist. “Over the last couple of years,” Davis says, “my life has definitely been a series of flip opposites, one after another.
“It’s been rough,” she admits, “but also incredible!” Those flips and twists and competing opposites are just part of what makes the music Olivia Davis writes so moving and engaging. Till now, it’s been only her closest friends, family and a select number of doctors and nurses who have heard that music. But as a result of one of those aforementioned “twists,” that is all about to change.
At 20, the Marin-born singer-songwriter with the lilting country twang has just released her first professionally recorded CD, a remarkably engaging, deeply personal alt-country eye-opener titled The Starting Line. It’s an appropriate enough name for what Davis (www.oliviadavismusic.com) sees as a whole new beginning to a life that, at times, has felt like a long-distance race over rocky terrain.
Supported by a spate of local concerts and radio appearances, the new, independently recorded and distributed CD has been greeted with acclaim and close attention, as much for the sweetness and power of Davis’ singing voice as for the insight, wisdom and soulfulness of her lyrics. Remarkably, the five songs on The Starting Line speak to both young and old, appearing to mean one thing on the surface, while revealing more, to anyone who listens for the story beneath the story.
“That was intentional,” Davis says. “I want my songs to be applicable to lots of people in different situations. They are very personal, but also very universal.”
For example, “Back of My Mind,” the infectious first track on the CD, sounds upon first listen to be a standing-at-the-crossroads look at the impending loss of a relationship.
“Looking back on this one, I think it was a little prescient of me,” she says of the song she actually wrote during her college application process. “I was filling out these forms, and I was really stressed out, not even sure going to college was what I wanted to do.”
As a listener, once you know that, the whole song opens up.
“There’s a line in the song,” Davis explains, “‘How many things can I write to win? Guess I’ll just be who I’ve been.’ That’s about writing these essays trying to prove I was someone they wanted to have at their school. It’s a song about wanting to be liked by people I wasn’t even sure I wanted to like me. It’s about blindly doing what other people—my parents, my college counselors—said I should be doing.”
That said, if her fans find meaning in the song as a tale of a person giving up on a relationship where too much has been demanded, she’s just fine with that.
“I want listeners to be able to hear my songs and create their own stories, create their own version of what they’re about,” she says. “I love it when I listen to writers who do that—writers like the Dixie Chicks and John Prine. I think that’s what makes a great song.”
As it turned out, Davis—who grew up in San Rafael, attended Marin Academy and played the flute in the school music program—eventually was accepted at UC Santa Barbara, where she began with no declared major, focusing primarily on environmental sciences, the field her father works in. Still not certain where her future was headed, she went to classes, wrote songs on her guitar and waited for clarity.
Davis often plays guitar at her home in San Rafael.
Then, in the fall of her sophomore year, everything changed.
“I got really, really sick,” she says. “Which I guess is nothing new for me, but that fall, it was the worse it’s ever been.”
Davis, though she’s always downplayed it, has had cystic fibrosis her entire life, diagnosed with the degenerative genetic disease when she was just a year old. Primarily affecting the lungs, cystic fibrosis (CF) also affects the pancreas, liver and other organs. Since childhood, Davis has been receiving treatments for the disease, which include an annual two-week-long stay in the hospital to run a vital “Pulmonary Function Test,” measuring her lung health, and comparing it to previous years.
“We call them PFTs,” says Davis, a veteran of nearly 20 such annual hospitalizations. “Basically,” she explains, “PFTs measure the percentage of lung function you have compared to someone your age who doesn’t have CF. Someone your height, and your size. At my healthiest, when I was little, I would score in the hundreds, sometimes even over a hundred percent. But slowly it got worse, and then in high school and early college, it was like, in the 70s.”
That fall, during her second year at UC Santa Barbara, she knew something was different, and the PFT confirmed it, showing a lung function score of just 53 percent.
“I’d never been that low,” Davis says. “It was very scary, so I basically left school immediately and checked myself into the hospital. California Pacific Medical Center— that’s where I’ve been going since I was diagnosed. I was in for a total of two months over the course of that winter. I was really, really sick.
“Not too surprisingly,” she adds, “I ended up in a very dark place. That whole time, I was figuring out what I should do. What should I do about finals? Should I go back to school? I was suddenly faced with something that made me really aware of time, of being in the present. During that time in the hospital, we really didn’t know if I was going to ever get better. A lot of time, what happens with CF patients is that they get really sick, and that PFT becomes their new baseline. It is a degenerative disease, which means it gets worse and worse over time. So for all I knew, 53 [percent] could be my new normal.
“It was,” she succinctly acknowledges, “a very scary time.”
There were, for what it’s worth, a few compensations that helped Davis keep her spirits up over the course of her long recovery. For one thing, during her hospital stay, she was surrounded by people who’d known her for years.
“All the same doctors and nurses have been taking care of me since I was a baby,” she says. “When I was little, the one thing that made going to the hospital not terrible, was that I got to hang out with all my nurse friends.”
Another thing that helped, a lot, was her music.
“I actually think singing has helped me build lung function,” Davis says. “Any exercise that helps you control your breathing is a good thing. That’s why I started flute lessons when I was in fifth grade. Wind instruments are helpful for kids with CF.
“CF kids are also known for their raspy voices,” she adds. “I used to worry I wouldn’t have enough breath to sing powerfully, but my voice coach Amber always says, ‘I don’t want you to think that way about singing. Don’t think you get the best sound if you have the most air. It’s not about air. It’s about where you’re directing the sound.’ She didn’t want me to feel like I wasn’t going to be able to sing as well as others just because I don’t have as much lung function as others.”
Davis—who started writing her own songs in high school—was accustomed to hauling her guitar for her annual two-week stays at the hospital, where CF patients were encouraged to decorate their rooms and bring along whatever made the stay easier.
It was during one stay, while she was in high school, that Davis wrote the song “For Mother,” the second track on her CD. A lullaby and a love song, “For Mother” was written from the point of view of a mom sharing a few tender words of wisdom with her child.
“Growing up,” Davis recalls, “I never saw how different my life was from other kids. It was just part of my thing. I did meds a couple times a day. I went to the hospital once a year.
“As I’ve gotten older,” she goes on, “I’ve gained some perspective, and it’s like, ‘Wow! A lot of things in my life are not very normal.’ That might not have been very easy for my parents. It must have been so scary for them, at times. So that song is about finally appreciating what my parents might have gone through, bringing up a kid with a serious illness.”
During the dark days of the winter that she left college, wrestling with what to do if she did recover—which she eventually did—Davis found herself turning to her music in a big way.
It was a fact her parents took notice of.
“I just decided that school would be there for me if I decided to go back, but that right at that moment, I needed to do what makes me happy,” Davis says. “I didn’t know how much time I had to be doing the things I love. I was kind of depressed. That’s when I started to get into my music really seriously, writing a lot of new songs.”
That Christmas, looking for a way to lift their daughter’s spirits, Davis’ parents dreamed up an idea of a Christmas present that would ultimately do much more than that. It would give her a whole new direction in life.
Davis’ voice coach Amber Morris, along with Morris’ husband Tal Morris, own and operate Ice House Recording, a state-of-the-art recording studio in San Rafael.
So for Christmas that year, Davis’ parents told her they’d purchased a three-hour recording session for her, at one of the best recording studios in the North Bay.
“I thought it was going to be, like, this nice little recording of myself that I could keep for myself, and no one outside my family would ever hear,” Davis remembers. “I did not realize the extent of the actual project.”
According to Davis, it was around May of last year, when her health was showing gradual but steady improvement, that Amber Morris approached her.
“She said, ‘If our studio is going to produce this project, it has to be up to our standards,’” Davis says. “‘So this is going to be a real CD. You’re going to record it, distribute it and promote it—because it’s going to be a real thing.’ That was actually pretty exciting, but I still thought it was going to be just my guitar and me. I didn’t realize it would be me and a bunch of professional cover musicians, playing actual arrangements of my songs, with, actual cover art on the CD!
“It was Amber and Tal pushing me to take my music more seriously,” Davis says. “They encouraged me to own my identity as an artist.” What started out as a planned two-or-three-song recording session turned into several days, with the Morris’ donating the extra hours and talking a band of session players into contributing to the project as the young singer’s very first backup band. “It was my parents’ idea, and they paid for some of it, but the Ice House pretty much gave us this project,” Davis says, laughing as she adds, “I didn’t feel worthy! It was like, ‘Why do I get to do this?’ But then, when I started to hear my songs, all arranged and put together with other instruments, it was just the coolest thing in the world.”
She pulled together two more songs she’d written at various times in the previous years. “Who Am I Anyway” is a catchy song about an existential crisis, played as a smooth and sassy series of impossible questions and observations, and “On Hold,” probably Davis’ most consciously open song about the pain of being sick for so long, is a gorgeously crafted tune that alternates between slow-tempo laments and up-tempo defiance. “I can breathe,” she sings in the chorus. “I can breathe in my own way!”
There’s even a line about the bracelet she wears in the hospital during her regular stays among all those people who’ve watched her grow up over the years.
“The truth is, I wouldn’t be a musician without CF,” Davis remarks. “I got into music because of CF. The two are very intertwined, but there’s more to me, and to my music, than just CF.
“I’m trying to walk this thin line between my music and my illness,” she says. “I don’t want to come off like I’m using my illness as a tactic to get people to listen to my music. That’s not why I’m talking about it. I talk about CF because I want people to know about it. It’s part of my story—but it isn’t my whole story.”
The CD’s most uplifting song is the one she wrote specifically for the CD. “I Choose Life” is a powerful tune about facing dark days, and an uncertain future, and focusing on those things that are good and beautiful, delightful and surprising.
“I think of it as my anthem,” Davis says with a smile. “It’s how I get through the times when I feel down. I just remember that life is precious, and sometimes you have to face an illness or a loss to really appreciate that.”
The recording sessions took place over a period of a few months last spring. The majority of them—all of Davis’ vocals and the accompanying session work—were recorded at Ice House. The CD, produced by Tal and Amber, along with producer and engineer Evan Galante, was mastered in San Rafael. Though a number of CDs have been printed for distribution to radio stations and newspapers—plus a few for Davis to carry with her, just in case—the strategy, at this point, is to put emphasis on Internet sales through CD Baby and on Davis’ website.
Of course, she’ll have CDs available at her concerts, too. And that’s the other piece of the transformation that started with one very bad winter over a year ago. Davis is now performing for other than just friends, family and nurses.
On February 26, she fulfilled a dream by playing at The Sweetwater in Mill Valley, opening for Peter Bradley Adams.
“I’m getting actual gigs,” she says with a laugh. “I’ve been really putting myself out there. It’s been such a whirlwind! In a way, it’s like that Christmas present ended up giving me more than just a recording session. Will I ever go back to school again and finish what I started? Maybe. But for now, I’m just going to take the path that’s in front of me.
“It gave me a whole new life!”
Ask David what his favorite Olivia Davis song is at ta*****@*******nk.net.
ARIES (March 21 – April 19) What’s the first rule of Fight Club, Aries? Don’t talk about Fight Club. The second rule? Don’t talk about the Ram! Your blood will be broiling on March 11—I feel bad for whoever has to sit next to you on Golden Gate Transit. Invest in a stress ball and maybe a phone app that makes ocean sounds and whale calls.
TAURUS (April 20 – May 20) Time to let it go, Taurus? Is your significant other still mixing in your whites with colors on laundry day? Unfortunately, the stars are here to say that that isn’t going to change any time soon. Some celestial tension might cause you to be extra particular on March 12. It’s always great to pay close attention, but does your partner really need an extra set of eyes while changing the Brita filter? Chill out.
GEMINI (May 21 – June 20) It’s time to get a little closer with someone special, Gemini. No, collecting dates’ names before spending a fun-filled evening and courtesy walk of shame doesn’t count as intimate. Pluto and Uranus are teaming up for an emotional showdown that will push you in a direction that allows you to let your guard down.
CANCER (June 21 – July 22) You’re up to bat, Cancer! Did you find yourself in a new position of leadership? Humble is a good look for you. You’ve earned your new spot for a reason and your team appreciates your newfound considerate disposition. Hit a home run on March 12 and plan a team-building retreat. Can you say bowling and beer?
LEO (July 23 – Aug. 22) Pack your bags, Leo! No, you’re not getting kicked out—you’re getting out of town. You’ve been seeking a little adventure, and on March 12 you will receive the golden ticket. It may not be the destination you dreamed of, but have you ever heard of business trips taking place in Cabo? Just enjoy the free meals!
VIRGO (Aug. 23 – Sept. 22) Feel like you need to head in a new direction, Virgo? It’s understandable—you’ve been stuck in the middle lately. Take the focus off of others and redirect it to yourself. Answers to a long-awaited (and potentially avoided) question will appear on March 10. Yep, you might be getting dumped.
LIBRA (Sept. 23 – Oct. 22) Never think you could get sick of your kids, Libra? The time has come! Family drama is at an all-time high, and you could say that you’re over it. Of course, you love your little ones (or parental figures—for those Librans sans offspring) unconditionally, but you don’t have to support them through everything—like becoming skydiving-certified.
SCORPIO (Oct. 23 – Nov. 21) Feeling under the weather, Scorpio? Don’t worry—that’s nothing a little Airborne and green tea can’t fix. Health is a new priority for you—you can kiss your latest episode of Ebola goodbye. Juicing is a good look for you—keep up the hard work. Your self-esteem, your partner and your assets will appreciate it.
SAGITTARIUS (Nov. 22 – Dec. 21) Were you an extra on the new season of House of Cards, Sagittarius? Well, someone who looks like you sure was. Get ready to get recognized—it’s your big break, or your 15 minutes of fame—whichever you prefer. This celestial lineup is here to help you go viral if you so choose. Take time to craft a stage name on March 7.
CAPRICORN (Dec. 22 – Jan. 19) Feeling more than a little emotional, Capricorn? Not that you haven’t been doing a great job of playing it cool, but the pile of tissues amassing in your cubicle gave you away. It’s OK to cry. Your fourth house of emotions is here to offer a reminder that A Walk to Remember makes even the bravest Capricorns turn into a puddle of tears.
AQUARIUS (Jan. 20 – Feb. 18) Take a swing, Aquarius! A mood swing that is! This planetary mash-up is causing a ruckus for even the calmest of signs, so don’t feel shocked that a restless soul like yourself might have some ups-and-downs starting March 11. The key here: You’re allowed to feel however you want. As long as you don’t commit a crime, it’s fine.
PISCES (Feb. 19 – March 20) Put it in the bank, Pisces! Have you been going on a spending spree again on your lunch break? It’s time to dig deep and develop a savings plan on March 9. Think about it—do you really need those red-and-white-striped sailor shoes from Walgreens?
The needle and the damage not done ...
Regarding the letters about vaccinations— has anybody noticed that polio has all but disappeared from the U.S.? As a 5-year-old living in San Francisco in 1953, I had what everyone hoped was a bad cold. I remember in late July, Dr. O’Gara (doctors made house calls then) shook his head and packed...
You’ve got to fight, for your right ... to measles paaartay!
Thank you Don Harte of Corte Madera, for your rebuttal to the articles that use fear, shame and guilt to justify taking away a parent’s right to choose to vaccinate or not to vaccinate their children. When I grew up in the ’60s and ’70s, autism, asthma, diabetes...
What, you got nothing to say about Kolker’s baseball poem that week?
The grotesque level of bigotry, backed up by the lack of any comprehension of immunology, toxicology and the vitalistic paradigm of Chiropractic, is astounding. Then there is the lack of basic reading comprehension. Then there’s the lack of just being brought up properly, between the nastiness and the...
by Amy Alkon
Q: I met this man a few years ago, and it was like a thunderbolt struck us—the stuff movies are made of. He told me that his female roommate was just a friend. We went on a few dates before I realized that she was actually his girlfriend. He promised that they were going to break up,...
by Charles Brousse
No doubt you’ve noticed a tendency among theater critics, myself included, to describe the merits of a show in a review’s initial paragraphs, leaving any bad news for the last sentence or two. We do this knowing full well that many readers will never get there, the motivation being that this very fragile art form needs all...
by Tanya Henry
Chocolate cardamom cookies made with cricket flour. Moringa-based energy bars, and a device that helps farmers know exactly how much water to use on their crops. These were just a few of the cutting-edge products that were looking for funding at SF New Tech’s FoodBytes! Summit that took place on February 25 at the Bluxome Street Winery...
David Templeton sits down with Marin-based singer-songwriter Olivia Davis to talk about the ups and downs that inspired her first CD and the Christmas present that changed her life. Charles Brousse reviews Marin Theatre Company's latest production The Convert. Our resident Dirt Diva is at it again and is talking organic milk--do you know where Starbucks gets its milk?...
Heidi Kuhn: Lifetime Achievement
Heidi Kuhn, fifth-generation member of a founding family in Marin and a mother of four, established Roots of Peace in 1997 out of her great respect for her mother and her passionate conviction that the earth should be safe for children. She works courageously to remove landmines, the deadly seeds of war planted in the earth,...
by David Templeton
Ups and downs, flips and turns, twists and changes—that pretty much defines me,” says Olivia Davis with a laugh, her smile so convincingly upbeat that one would not easily guess at the rough road she’s traveled to arrive at this moment in time, a sunny morning in Marin County, freshly printed CDs in her bag, sitting at...
ARIES (March 21 - April 19) What’s the first rule of Fight Club, Aries? Don’t talk about Fight Club. The second rule? Don’t talk about the Ram! Your blood will be broiling on March 11—I feel bad for whoever has to sit next to you on Golden Gate Transit. Invest in a stress ball and maybe a phone app...
