The Bee Effect

Unfortunately for honeybees, they are bees, and therefore lumped into the unsavory category of “bug” for me.  I’ve never been into bugs.  In fact, I’d rather they not come near me.  Just this morning my skin crawled when I was walking Kid 1 to school and we came across a tarantula.

Yes, I said tarantula.  It was moseying down the sidewalk, minding its own business, when the population of Kid 1’s elementary school that walks to school began collecting around it.  On the way home, three other moms and I relocated the tarantula, which began to charge us.  It was slow and crawly, but I am sure it was charging us.

Anyway.  Bees.  Intellectually I know that honeybees are the good guys, and they don’t want to hurt us.  It’s weird how bees in general have this double sided public image.  Bees!  Are bad for you!  If they sting you, you might have an anaphylactic reaction and die!  But, bees make honey and pollinate plants!  Without them, we’ll all die!

The second impression is what the film Vanishing of the Bees is all about.  A documentary about Colony Collapse Disorder, or the mysterious disappearance of legions of bees over the last several years, Vanishing of the Bees is fascinating in its storytelling, and endearing in its home-grown production value.  The interviews and the way the tale is woven keep you engaged even if you know the outcome of the story.  I might have picked a different narrator – “Juno” star Eliot Page’s creepy monotone kept pulling me out of the story to wonder if she was chosen because she was the biggest star the filmmakers knew at the time.  And I found the rudimentary graphics charming.  It was like someone made this film as a labor of love.

The lack of slick tricks makes you concentrate on the story and the interviews themselves.  At one point, a veteran beekeeper just about breaks down and cries.  The vanishing of the bees has caused him to almost lose not only his business but also his entire way of life.  He is determined to get to the bottom of the mystery, and is credited with first raising the stink about how hives were starting to be abandoned, thousands at a time.

By the end of the film, there are no concrete answers as to what happened to the bees.  The best the filmmakers can do is come to the most current conclusion of the industry:  that the bees are being slowly poisoned by the systemic pesticides used in modern mass farming of crops like corn and soybeans.  These are chemicals that are present in the crops from seed stage onward, and make it unnecessary for sprayed on chemicals that are more harmful to us.  The idea is that slowly over months, bees get exposed to these chemicals when they are bopping about the fields pollinating stuff.  Eventually they keel over or get lost and never make it back to their hives.

Why should we care?  Because bees are responsible for making all of those plants flower and fruit.  They are an essential part of the food chain.  Without bees, there is no food, which is why beehives are actually trucked across the country to aid in food production.

Drunk bees.  Bad for crops, bad for you.

After I watched Vanishing of the Bees, I met a strawberry farmer at an event sponsored by the California Strawberry Commission.  I asked him about the systemic pesticides, and what he thought about the theory that they are behind the bee mystery.  He said those aren’t used in his farms, and that he thought the bees were getting infested by a mite brought into the country by foreign produce.  “For a bee, it’s like having something the size of a dinner plate stuck to your abdomen,” he described.

At this point I say “ick.”  I’m going to eat only things grown in my garden, where there seem to be plenty of bees.  For more on this story, I do recommend watching this well-crafted film.

Day of the Horse

Sometimes, out here in the Conejo Valley, it feels like we are a world away from Los Angeles.  On this day in September, there was a storm moving through the area, so a trip to horse country coupled with dark clouds rolling over the sky made that faraway feeling even more pronounced.

I had read about Day of the Horse in the local paper.  Kid 2 loves horses.  That is, he likes to look at them from afar.  Given the chance to get up close and touch one, he wound up hiding under Agoura Hills Dad’s t-shirt.

This event, held at the Conejo Creek Equestrian Park which is run by the county, was a showcase of the many groups that give horse lovers a chance to indulge in their hobby, sport, or calling.  There were equestrian demonstrations, a belly dancing show (?), pizza sold by the slice, horse-related vendors, and several little ponies.  Even one wearing sparkly pink sneakers.

When the sky darkened and some drops of rain fell, the weather stole the thunder from the horses for a little while.  People were abuzz with reports that hail was coming down nearby, and others joked that being outside under the trees wasn’t such a great place to be hanging out in a thunderstorm.  But the rain never got heavy, and the thunder and lightning passed us by.  Before too long it grew sunny and hot again, lucky for the organizers and stars of the event.

Here is a photo album from the day.  If you’re interested in horses, you don’t have to go farther than Thousand Oaks to get in the saddle.

Day of the Horse

Agoura Hills Mom Recommends: Drop-In Hair Color

UPDATE: TINT is now closed.

Drive by hair color can fit into your schedule way better than a cut-color-blowout.

You know how they have all these new “blow-dry” bars like Blo and DryBar?  Where you can just walk in and get a blowout and nothing else and it’s cheaper and faster?  Well, now there is such a thing as a color bar.  I went to TINT in Santa Monica back in April to experience the magic, and I must say, if you happen to be in Santa Monica for a birthday party or some other kid adventure, I would recommend dropping the kids off, getting your hair colored, and then returning for pickup.

inside the front of TINT

Created by Frank Dino and Dana Clark, both legendary stylists on the west side, TINT is a place where you can simply drop in, all the way up to closing time, and get your hair colored – completely or just a touch up.  You pay a la carte prices for the service, and then when the color is finished and inspected by an expert, you go to the vanity station and dry it and style it yourself.

woman at vanity station

Expert colorist Frank Dino himself took care of me.  He inspected my current hair color, which was this faded blah blah:

before TINT

Dino working with another client, who told me she’d follow him anywhere

Dino advised me to go more natural, meaning a warmer brown.  I said what the heck, you’re the expert.  Also, he gave me wine.  I was gonna do whatever he said.  Working with my answers to the questionnaire I filled out when I arrived, and what I told him about wanting to cover my gray hair and the way I normally style it and how often I get it done, Dino chose and mixed the color to get it just right.  Then an assistant came and applied it to my hair.

beauty is pain

I sat for a while, drinking wine and tweeting.  Then a different assistant washed it out.  And finally, Dino checked the color and did the blowout himself.  I felt like a VIP.

after TINT

after TINT, different camera

I was impressed with the sleek design of the studio, the friendliness of the staff, the locker facilities provided so you don’t have to lug your purse, etc., around the studio or worry that it will get lifted, the location right next door to a fancy yoga studio, and the expert advice of Dino poking around in my hair and making me feel special.  Right around closing time a prospective customer popped in.  Dino didn’t turn her away, but sat with her and discussed her needs instead.  On their website, TINT says they take clients right up to closing time, so you can literally walk in the door at 7pm and get your hair colored.

The services I received at TINT cost $47 for the base application (on my roots) $15 for the rest of the hair which is called toner, and then $35 for the blowout.  I was there for a few hours, but only because I was taking pictures and asking a ton of questions.  In my real life, I would have popped in, said “do what you did last time,” and run out of there with wet hair to hightail it back to Agoura Hills.  Let’s be honest, I hate going south of Zuma and east of Calabasas.  I’m not making a special trip to TINT.  But I do have to go to Santa Monica every now and then, and next time I’m hoping to time it to when the grays start to show.

I received complimentary services during my visit to TINT to facilitate this feature.