The handsome, perspiring gondolier cheerfully explained the day’s primi (appetizer) and secondi (main course) before taking our order. Wandering just off St. Mark’s Square in Venice, in the midst of throngs of tourists awaiting gondola rides in the humid, 100 degree heat, I noticed a nondescript open door set back from the canal. Curious, I thought—if this was a restaurant, it might provide a memorable experience. Indeed, it was one of the highlights of the trip to Venice. The male owner gestured for us to be seated while serving two tables filled with gondoliers and another table with local, smartly-dressed women. With no written menus, the owner shared the daily offerings. Due to our limited Italian, even hand signals were not enough to understand the day’s menu. To the rescue came a gondolier who sprung from his seat, translated the menu options, took our order and served us our wine! As more locals entered, each immediately went behind the small bar and retrieved water, wine or sodas. In the meantime our food was being skillfully cooked by the owner’s mother in the small kitchen in the back. Keeping a watchful eye over the family’s osteria is the Nona (grandma) whose large picture hangs in a prominent position near the entrance. The wafting aroma of garlic and fresh herbs signaled the impending arrival of our meals. The homemade pastas, grilled chicken and lamb were simple, yet delectable, the hallmark of good Italian cuisine. The locals appeared to be running tabs, but we settle “il cuonto” with cash, as no credit cards are taken. I don’t recall the name of the establishment and couldn’t find it on any restaurant websites or travel resources. Even if I knew its name, I wouldn’t reveal the location of this local gem.
The landing of Perseverance on Mars reminded me of some interesting past experiences. Bear with me as I do a sort of stream of consciousness that came to me watching the landing and communicating with friends. I have three friends who have worked for NASA, one of whom helped develop the Hubble space telescope. When this friend was working in Houston on the Hubble, he sent me a yellow page ad for a woman with my name, Dawn Starr, who was a “balloon stripper.” HAHA. When my youngest son was taking an aerospace class in junior high school, I mentioned to his teacher that I had a friend who helped develop the Hubble. She asked if he would come to present to the class. I was reluctant to ask, but he graciously agreed and did a great job. He lived only a few hours up the California coast, and brought with him some artifacts from the Hubble. He explained how they kept it charged all the time: in the sun, the batteries would recharge, then when dark they would rely on the batteries that had recharged in the sun.
Perseverance Mars Landin
As I mentioned the Dawn Starr balloon ad to a friend, we had a funny exchange about balloons and I mentioned there are balloon fetishes, as well as multiple other fetishes. There used to be a program on HBO called, “Real Sex,” which featured many types of fetishes, including but not limited to latex, dressing like babies, riding small ponies, etc.
So when my middle son went to be filmed for an HBO film, “I Have Tourette’s But Tourette’s Doesn’t Have Me,” I was surprised when I learned the film’s director was Ellen Goosenberg Kent, the same person who directed and produced “Real Sex.” I said nothing to my son until he was an adult. This 2005 film one an Emmy.
Hollywood was pretty run down when they filmed, but I found a nice, new hotel, The Delano, which had a sister hotel we had visited in Miami. Our friends, whose sons were also being interviewed and filmed for the film, had a different experience. Their boys wanted to know what the floor to ceiling pole was in their hotel room.
When I went across the street to an upscale restaurant, the woman sitting next to me at the bar was friendly. She was originally from South America. She said she worked doing ads for a weight loss pill. She was thin, so I asked her how much weight she had lost. She laughed and said none, that they had altered her ¨before¨ photos to make her look fat.
So those of you know me probably know I have three sons I love dearly, well at least most of the time. They have some neurological and psychiatric issues. Here is a confession of things I have said or done, which won’t likely be on the list of recommended parenting techniques. This is only a partial list.
Whenever your kids say something about planets, and you immediately say something about “Uranus.”
When you go into your son’s room with OCD and move his CD’s into a different place.
When you move other sons’ Playmobil characters into the wrong settings or change their hair or clothes to be a different gender or person.
When you tell you young (not yet aware) gay son that the gay son always takes care of his aging mother.
When your children don’t do their homework and even though you already bought a Christmas tree tell them that there won’t be time for them to decorate unless they catch up on their homework. When they don’t, we had a nude tree, but they still got presents. One got a piece of coal in his fireplace stocking.
When they turn into difficult early adolescents and you tell them they should go to another planet (not Uranus) until they turn human again.
When you take your eventual gay son to Gay Pride events and he is shocked.
When you tell same said son you will take his driver’s license away if he doesn’t take his college entrance exam. In spite of being a genius, he says he doesn’t know how to get to the local college. So he did take it, and in spite of not taking any of the typical pre-college entrance test prep classes, at graduation, it was announced he had the highest college-entrance exam score of anyone in his high school. He was also rated by one of the most admired and popular in spite of being the first person “out” in his high school.
When a son with a number of disabilities, but hugely intelligent, goes on to get black belt in Karate (even though resisting finishing), do stand-up comedy, be an avid dancer, economics degree from highly-rated University California Irvine, and now getting a master’s in Data Analytics at George Mason University.
When a son gets to be an Executive Chef at new and upcoming restaurant in DTLA, Belcampo. And is written up as chef of the week in the LA Times (yeah, that is how long things are relevant in LaLaLand). And also has done YouTube cooking videos. #family #fam #whatnottodoasaparent #belize
One of our favorite hotels in San Francisco was the (new) Palace Hotel (left is the Garden Court). Originally built in 1875, it was gutted and demolished following the great 1906 Earthquake and rebuilt. Famous tenor Enrico Caruso was performing in San Francisco, staying at the hotel at the time of the earthquake and swore he would never return there. The hotel also has rare indoor pool for San Francisco (on the third floor if I remember correctly).
When I was in Madrid I twice stayed at the Palace Hotel (right), and was surprised at the La Rotunda at the similar ceiling. I highly recommend both hotels.
Due to the inability to travel currently, I will post some photos and memories of some of my prior travels.
Leopard relaxing in Tanzania. Local author of a book on leopards told us you can spot leopards by their legs hanging from tree branches, when they otherwise are camouflaged by the tree. (This photo is not mine.)
Not long after I moved to Spain six years ago, (from the Central Coast of California), a Norwegian friend expressed interest in trying an American Thanksgiving. I was happy to do it, and invited a group of friends, not anticipating some of the challenges to come. While this year does not allow for Thanksgiving and other holiday get-togethers, I am reminiscing and laughing about a couple of past Thanksgiving celebrations.
It took some effort to find some of the American ingredients, like canned pumpkin pie filling, spices like sage for the stuffing, but found a whole turkey at the local carnicería (butcher.) When I purchased the turkey, I was asked if I wanted it cleaned. At first I said no, then asked to have her remove the remaining feathers and pins.
Surprise Thanksgiving morning as I began to prep the turkey, and discovered the giblets (internal organs) were not in the usual bag as in the U.S., but were still attached to the cavity of the turkey, so I had to detach them. No bueno. There were items inside I had never seen in the U.S. bag of giblets. Worse yet was the head was still attached, and I had to detach it, which took over an hour. I began to think there would be no turkey for dinner. Finally, got it in the oven, but the electricity in the stove and other appliances kept shutting off due to too much electrical demand, (a repeated experience at my dinner parties.)
In the end, it all worked out and the guests expressed pleasure at all the traditional American Thanksgiving offerings. Or perhaps they were afraid to give me their real opinions. I doubt I will ever make a whole turkey again.
I am reminded of my last Thanksgiving in the U.S. before I moved to Spain, which I wasn’t sure would happen. My three sons had other commitments on Thanksgiving, so I asked if they wanted a family Thanksgiving on an alternate day. All three enthusiastically agreed so they found a mutually agreeable date. Even with the standard Thanksgiving dishes, the dinner was atypical in their chosen topic of discussion: best and worst U.S. vice-presidents. I could add nothing elucidating to the conversation. As I was putting all the dishes on the table, I remembered the bread was still in toaster oven; I have an unfortunate habit of burning bread. My middle son remarked, “It’s not dinner until Mom burns the bread.” Good times.
I have reflecting on and been disappointed by Trump’s misogynistic attitudes towards females, especially women and other people of color, and also in his cohorts i.e., complicit cronies, (sorry can’t pass up and obvious opportunity for alliteration.) And I realized I have experienced similar treatment in my professional, which resulted in my eventually resigning and moving to Spain. (Photos are a sample of some of my new life experiences.)
I worked as a reputable, and highly-regarded Forensic Psychologist in California for over 25 years. I started working in the largest forensic psychiatric hospital (Atascadero State Hospital) at that time in the world, which I did for about eight years while beginning my private practice, (while starting a family.) As I was becoming increasingly successful in my private practice, the clinical “head” of the Psychology Department, Dr. David Plate, attempted to sabotage me by saying I had not submitted my paperwork on time for the annual review. I don’t remember exactly what he tried to do, but I think it was to get me disciplined or set the path for firing. I spoke to my female administrative boss and gave her all the data, and she advised me to take it to the Medical Director of the Hospital. I had no idea what might happen, but after presented my information to him, the issue was dropped.
I should note that the Dr. Plate seemed to have issues with minorities and women, which was one of the reasons I became involved in the Equal Employment Opportunity/Affirmative Action Committee, eventually being a co-chair on a sub-committee and chairperson of the committee. When I started working at the hospital, I was shocked at the disproportionate number of white staff compared to the patient population which was much more made of various minorities, e.g., brown, black, etc., so I got involved to try to increase staff to be comparable for better patients’ receptivity to a variety of staff and better treatment outcomes. To be clear, this committee simply sat in on interviews and tried to assure everyone, regardless of their race, ethnicity, or having a relative working at hospital, had the same fair shake at a position. I am and was data-driven, so I would always present the facts.
I had an excellent reputation with regard to my forensic psychological interviews, written reports, and testimony, well perhaps not counting a Judge who made me come to court to testify when I had only given birth to a baby about a week earlier, (the same Judge who after I testified the father had molested his child by digital penetration, the Judge said he knew what was and was not molest, and that was not, and that I was wrong.) This Judge also made other outrageous rulings, mostly in favor of fathers in child custody cases, and in favor of male expert witnesses. In retrospect, every time, I was ever treated horribly, like tricked to show up for a court case that was already resolved, being subject to scurrilous and untrue accusation while testifying, it was almost always by men, never substantiated.
There were other similar experiences, but I just moved on. I was working a ridiculous number of hours and raising three sons, some with special needs, by myself, and I was making enough money to raise them and have a decent lifestyle.
I was recruited by the Department of Mental Health (now department of State Hospitals) to start working at the newly passed Sexually Violent Predator Program in March 1996. Over time, how they structured our pay ranged from hourly, to a Department set fee for evaluation, to bidding for how we were paid. Two very interesting and informative things happened. First, during the contract bidding a group of male evaluators said we could not communicate about our big with other evaluators, which my other colleagues and I did not, but when the bids were published, it was clear that this subset of male evaluators had colluded because all of their bids were basically the same, and the people with the lowest bids could take large numbers of referrals and only the relatively small remaining number went to the rest of us with higher bids. They also tried to blame ME for the contracts going to bid because I made so much money. The money I made during the time prior to contract bids was set by the Department per evaluations and testimony. I did the second most work, so I earned the second most money. Interesting, another male colleague had earned 50% more money than I did prior to the implementation of contract bids, and he was never blamed. Later, a female colleague told me their blaming me had to do with my being female, but I ignored that.
Then the SVP Department hired psychiatrist Ronald Mihordin, M.D., J.D. who had a history in forensic evaluations and administration of programs. He was known for advocating his evaluators not make a connection between mental illness and violence under the Mentally Disordered Offender. Instead of allowing seasoned evaluators to independently form their opinions, as is the standard and the law, he would call and try to cajole evaluators to change their opinions that there was no connection between the individual’s mental illness and violent conduct. He fired numerous evaluators from that panel including me, after I told him I could not testify to his opinion. During his stint with MDO, he said anal digital penetration of pre-pubescent child was not sexual violence.
When he later was made the director of the Sexually Violent Predator Program (SVP), he quickly called the law “The Gulag.” He did things to undermine the law, including “training” that was not consistent with the state of the art to us experienced SVP experts, even though he had never done an SVP evaluation. He told us to ignore the “gold standard” for predicting risk of sexual re-offense. He hired people not considered to be fair, experienced and neutral experts, to advise our panel on how to do evaluations. He put up samples of my reports as what not to do at trainings, such as being too detailed about the crimes. Really? No attorney complained of my quoting the details of the crimes.
He started communicating and helping defense attorneys to get their dangerous patients released, which was totally in contrast to the intent of the law the people who supported it. He was undermining public safety. When I would testify and was asked what I thought about his guidance, I would give my honest opinion that he was undermining public safety. I think that, my being female, but also his comment to me once while testifying at Court that I was making too much money, were his motivations. Interestingly, he advocated for hiring State Contracted employees to do evaluations, and they were being paid over $100,000 a year and each only doing an average of one evaluation a year. I was being paid a few thousand dollars per eval, and my annual wages were based on the amount of work I did.
I did what I could to protect public safety. But he and the Department black-balled me and I wasn’t getting any new work. When I called the Department to ask why I wasn’t getting new referrals, the male administrator at the time, who I did not know, greeted me by asking, “Is this Starr Wars?” (Starr is my last name.) It was clear there would be no transparency or corrective action.
Fortunately, because I had done so much prior work, I was still getting sufficient business with updated reports and court testimony, and I also did private fair consultation and evaluations for both defense and prosecuting attorneys for SVP. Mihordin had it out for me I was told by colleagues. He was the same type of misogynistic, arrogant, threatened by women person as is Trump, and other similar men, malignant narcissists who have particular issues with competent and successful women, like recent comments about Trump’s comments about Kamala Harris being a “monster, unlikeable, and a communist;” calling Michigan Gov, Gretchen Whitmer names and whistle-calling his base which contributed to plans to kidnap her, kill her, and start a race war; disregard and contempt for some females testifying about sexual assault including about Supreme Court nominations; referring to women as “nasty” even though he has sex outside of marriage and with call girls; and too many more to mention. His vitriol is also bad with people of color.
Mihordin took a sudden retirement when the Attorney General was informed of his plan to testify for the defense in favor of a repetitive child molester who Mihordin had never even evaluated and was not qualified as an expert to testify on.
I was done, last son graduated from high school, sold my house and all my belongings, and moved to Europe where I am much happier. However, it wasn’t until recent consideration of Trump’s and other similarly-oriented males that I realized I had been subjected similar attitudes and behaviors; none of their behaviors or scurrilous comments had any basis in reality or were ever substantiated, but had long-lasting negative consequences.
