Author: punchwpadmin

Words by Johanna Harlow

It’s 1972 and a Ford Galaxie leaves SFO Airport, driving along 101, then winding its way up hilly Page Mill Road. Turning onto a private drive, the car rumbles along the dirt driveway and pulls up outside a rambling farmhouse. Famed bluegrass musician Earl Scruggs and his entourage step out, ready for a remarkable meeting with singer Joan Baez.

The impromptu musical collaboration that follows is captured by filmmaker David Hoffman in his documentary Earl Scruggs: The Bluegrass Legend—Family & Friends. “Earl is on a personal search,” David says of the film’s premise. “He’s looking at places where banjo can be used in other kinds of music… He’s going to different people he likes, to try to find how his music fits.” Earl’s quest would later air on PBS. “The film was very popular on public television,” recalls David. “In the prime time, it got a very high rating—which surprised the people at PBS, because they weren’t used to country (music) being that popular.”

David captures Earl’s jam sessions with The Byrds, Bob Dylan and Doc Watson, among others. But Earl’s collaboration with Joan is arguably the film’s most powerful. After recently reposting the clip on his YouTube channel, David received over 25,000 likes. What went down on this day on the Peninsula clearly still strikes a chord over 50 years later. But why? To understand, you need to know all the players.

Cover Photo: Courtesy of Raph PH / Photo: David Hoffman

The Camera Guy

Before discussing the legends in front of the camera, take a moment to meet the visionary behind it. A scrappy filmmaker, David Hoffman is the kind of guy who jumps right into the action, hand-held camera at the ready. “There were maybe about a hundred of us in the country who were doing this kind of work—hand-holding, just talking to people,” he recalls. As a documentarian for hire, David has done a bit of everything over his long career. His subjects ranged from competitive inline skating and the military to Wall Street trading and 1960s drug culture. “I had my standards—but you could’ve hired me to do tooth decay, and I would have done a documentary on it,” David chuckles.

That said, his background scored him plenty of music-related projects. “I was a classical musician. I played oboe,” David says. “But then I played banjo and I had a folk song group in college. We played all the Pete Seeger songs. It was a pretty common, rebellious thing to do.”
The filmmaker’s respect for the country genre is evident. “On Long Island, where I grew up, you heard the Grand Ole Opry on Saturday night on the radio,” he describes. “And us music kids, we thought it was unbelievable … I still am mesmerized by the soul of that music.”

d (Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

Though David’s films have garnered Emmys, Golden Globes and an Academy Award, he doesn’t put much stock in such things. “Awards don’t mean anything really, you know?” he says with a shrug. “Some of my best films didn’t get noticed at all.”

So what does he care about? “I’m interested in what people think, and the way they express themselves,” he says of his deeply human approach to filmmaking, adding, “My talent is a sixth sense for what people are not saying.”

The Music Man

But let’s get back to Earl Scruggs, the heart of David’s documentary. Back in 1972, North Carolina native Earl had pioneered the bluegrass genre with Bill Monroe’s band, the Blue Grass Boys. He’d also revolutionized three-finger banjo picking (known as “Scruggs-style” today). Despite these contributions, Earl was chasing a more contemporary sound. After breaking with his more traditional musical partner Lester Flatt, Earl reached out to musicians he respected to set up jam sessions, embarking on a journey that would be highly influential in developing his sound as an artist over the rest of his seven-decade career. Along for the ride were David behind the camera and Earl’s musician sons (Randy on guitar and Gary playing bass).

Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

These jam sessions, set in the intimate spaces of people’s homes or the freedom of country fields, have an earnestness about them. And so does Earl. “Mensch of a guy, beautiful human being,” David says of how Earl treated artists and film crew alike with respect and dignity.

On his quest, Earl made music with The Byrds on a farm in North Carolina while horses cantered by and a barefoot kid perched on the tin roof for a view of the visitors. He and Doc Watson dragged chairs onto the lawn to strum in the great outdoors. Earl also paid a house call to Bob Dylan, playing as the pendulum of the old wall clock kept time like a metronome. And now, he’d arrived on the Peninsula.

The Legend / Humble Hostess

The East Coast-West Coast divide was evident as soon as Earl and the gang entered Joan’s house. “I’m gonna call it a hippie house,” New Yorker David says of the legend’s modest farmhouse with hillside views and outdoor shower. “I’m an East Coast guy—I’d never seen an outdoor shower!” he notes with a chuckle. “Two extraordinarily different cultures.” As the protest folk singer, the trailblazing country musician and his sons settle onto chairs and an earth-brown couch in the living room and begin tuning their instruments, a sense of anticipation builds. What’s about to transpire?
While their home lives may have looked different, Joan and Earl were united in opposing the Vietnam War. This was a particularly gutsy stance for Earl. “For him to say that is a big deal, because country music was notorious for people being for the Vietnam War,” David explains. “Earl was not highly political, but he was bold.” In the midst of a national draft and seemingly endless conflict, “he wanted the boys to come home,” David reflects. “That’s all he cared about.”

Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman

Joan and Earl also shared the easy camaraderie of old friends. About a decade earlier, they had met at the Newport Folk Festival, then went on to play together. The first few times the two interacted, Earl had a quiet but sweet line of approach. “He was so shy,” Joan recalls. “He used to come up and say, ‘Remember this one?’” Then he’d launch into a song on the banjo and wait for her to join in. “I had reason to be shy,” Earl protests. “I admired your singing so very much.”

And then Joan, strumming her own guitar, starts to sing. “Her voice.… it gets you,” David says. “Joan, you’ve got to understand, was overwhelmingly powerful. Her presence, the way she spoke, the way she sang, her decency, it overwhelmed me. It overwhelmed all of my film crew.” As Earl, Gary and Randy began to play, the warmth of their music complimented the alluring lilt of Joan’s vocals. “It worked,” David says. “And I was fortunate enough to witness it.”

Human Harmonized

But this musical meet-up was bigger than the songs performed that day. Perhaps what resonates with the current-day viewers of David’s film are all the spontaneous and delightfully human moments sprinkled throughout. While singing ex-boyfriend Bob Dylan’s hit song “Love Is Just a Four-Letter Word,” Joan breaks into her uncanny Dylan impression. After, she pulls her baby Gabriel onto her lap—and he promptly wraps chubby fingers around the microphone before gumming on the mouthpiece.

Halfway through the session, Joan divulges that she had a crush on Earl years earlier. With girlish glee, she recounts the time she gave a concert with Earl, then gushed about him to a stranger in the ladies room. “I said, ‘Oh gosh, this guy Earl, he’s just so far out!’” The woman turned out to be Earl’s wife Louise Scruggs. “I said, ‘You lucky bum!’” Joan recalls with a smile.

Despite her lofty reputation, Joan is gracious with Earl’s less-experienced sons. There’s a sweet moment when she gives an appreciative nod to Earl’s 16-year-old son Randy, recognizing his talent. “She looks at him like, ‘Whoa, who are you, kid?’” David recalls. The teen would go on to become one of the great Nashville backup musicians, winning four Grammy Awards.
At the end of the session, Earl’s oldest, Gary, dedicates a song to Joan’s husband David Harris, who was serving prison time for refusing to report for military duty after being drafted. The compassionate moment and tender lyrics of “If I Were a Carpenter” ends the session on a sweet note.

“Save your love through loneliness, save your love through sorrow,” Joan and Gary harmonize. “I gave you my onliness, give me your tomorrow.”
“We knew we had recorded beautiful moments, casual moments,” David reflects.

Joan Baez's outdoor shower was a foreign concept to East Coast filmmaker David Hoffman. When she invited him to try it out, he went in with his clothes on. Joan, finding this hilarious, joined him while also fully dressed. (Photo: Courtesy of David Hoffman)

The Road Ahead

Fueled by his quest for a new sound, Earl thrived in the years that followed. This boundary-crossing artist would go on to win multiple Grammys and be inducted into the Country Music Hall of Fame. He and his sons, performing together as The Revue, would be recognized as pioneers of the country-rock genre. At the age of 79, Earl would be presented with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

As for David, that East Coast guy now lives in Santa Cruz. In recent years, the filmmaker created a YouTube channel, where he’s connected with new audiences by releasing old clips from his past projects. Even at 83—months after surviving a stroke—he continues posting videos twice a day. “It’s a wonderful community,” David says. “I read almost all the comments.” His more than 1 million subscribers would suggest that the feeling is mutual.

And how about our local legend Joan? Inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the now Woodside-based protest singer is still pouring herself into music and political activism at the age of 84. Recently, she was honored at the 30th anniversary of the Sweet Relief Musicians Fund in San Francisco, performing alongside a dazzling lineup that included Bonnie Raitt, Taj Mahal and Emmylou Harris. Working the stage, she shook a tambourine during one tune and sang alongside Jackson Browne on a piano bench for another. She closed the evening with a rousing performance of “Diamonds and Rust,” with her grown son Gabriel playing percussion.

Listen to Joan and Earl

Sit down with Linda Hubbard, and you’ll be struck by how quickly it feels like you’re talking to an old friend. Her friendly tone infuses InMenlo, the hyper-local community news blog she’s been running since 2010. Covering the Midpeninsula communities of Menlo Park, Atherton, Portola Valley and Woodside, it’s the online equivalent of a chatty, well-informed neighbor giving you the scoop on all those little things that make your hometown unique. Which house has the best Halloween decorations? Is there a good event to take the kids to this weekend? And did you hear about the married couple who are both 100 years old? InMenlo is here for you.

Daily emails from InMenlo tend to have a handful of short items. The tone is light—you won’t find stories about politics or crime—but the website’s origin story is a little less rosy. InMenlo started as a passion project born of necessity.

Though she’s a longtime journalist, Linda wasn’t the founder of InMenlo, which launched in 2009. That honor goes to Linda’s late husband Chris Gulker. After a terminal brain cancer diagnosis derailed his high-profile career in photojournalism and tech, Chris wanted to do something that accommodated his newly limited mobility. He launched the platform with his good friend Scott Loftesness. Linda’s involvement was modest at first—she still had a day job—but after Chris died in 2010, she made the decision to keep InMenlo going. “I could make my way around Menlo Park and be a journalist, not a widow,” she says of that first difficult year. “It was something I could do, and something that I liked doing.”

While Chris created what’s widely considered to be one of the very first blogs (gulker.com), Linda’s journalism career was more traditional: writing and editing for newspapers and magazines, then transitioning to marketing. Among the suite of skills Linda’s picked up over the years, her ability to connect with people just might be the glue that holds InMenlo together. As an avid walker and restaurant patron, she’s always out and about, talking to people. “I get a decent amount of tips,” Linda says. Mostly, they come from InMenlo readers. “Our biggest post ever was when Steph Curry was going to be at Safeway,” she says of the Golden State Warriors star’s 2024 promotional appearance in Menlo Park. “That got 11,000 views.”

Linda keeps up the website and sends out daily email digests with only one paid staffer—the IT guy. Everything else is the work of her small team of volunteer contributors and of Linda herself. As many a media organization has discovered, keeping a crew of unpaid “citizen journalists” engaged and productive is no mean feat. Neither is replenishing their ranks when they drift away. “People raise their hands, and that leads to more people,” she says simply, adding that she doesn’t think she’s had a volunteer yet who didn’t have a connection to some other InMenlo contributor.

Anyone who subscribes to InMenlo’s emails might wonder if Linda ever takes a day off. The answer is: not really. “The good news about InMenlo is that none of my posts are lengthy,” she says modestly. On a recent day, Linda had two interviews that still needed to be written up, and plenty of other newsy items in the works. The time demand varies, but her commitment to posting items seven days a week does not. Even on vacation, she says she can always carve out a few hours to work on it.

Linda’s love of the news business dates back to Menlo-Atherton High School. She learned from a “terrific journalism teacher” and worked on the yearbook staff, then continued taking journalism classes while majoring in history at UCLA. One of her professors got Linda a job interview at the LA Times with “a fabulous crusty old editor” who hired her on the spot for an entry level job on the newsroom’s copy desk. “I guess he thought I could handle it,” Linda says. By assisting the reporters and witnessing their conversations with that old editor, she learned what it meant to be a journalist. “The cool thing about journalism is that I have met so many interesting people,” she says.

After college, Linda stayed in Southern California, eventually leaving the LA Times for Modern Maturity (now called AARP The Magazine). When Chris got a job offer from San Francisco Examiner publisher Will Hearst in 1990, Linda says she jumped at the chance to move back to the Peninsula. “I was happy to be home.” The publisher of the Palo Alto-based Peninsula Times Tribune—a former boss and friend from the LA Times—offered Linda a job heading up the marketing department. It was her first foray into the business side of news, and led to roles with a string of small marketing companies after the struggling newspaper finally folded in 1993.

When InMenlo turned 12 in 2021, the Menlo Park City Council took notice, issuing a proclamation declaring Linda a beloved local institution “as an ever-present and studious chronicler of the community.” It lauded her many roles, including editor, reporter and occasional photographer, and praised her “commitment to providing a reliable, impartial and detailed news source during a period when many communities have experienced the demise of local news sources.” InMenlo is studiously apolitical—not for lack of interest in local politics, Linda says, but because she doesn’t have the resources to cover it properly.

Linda has a tendency to deflect attention from herself by talking warmly about her late husband’s many accomplishments, and equally warmly about her second husband, Dennis Nugent, and the life they’ve built together. Dennis is one of Linda’s many connections from her Menlo Park school days. The two shared mutual friends from elementary school and got to know each other while at Menlo-Atherton. After reconnecting decades later, they proudly display photos of their blended family in their cozy home.

As for what’s next for InMenlo? More of the same, as far as Linda is concerned. She has no plans to retire from this labor of love. “InMenlo evolves along with the people who contribute to it,” Linda says, admitting that “It feels good to give something back to the community.”
Especially a community that she clearly adores.

neighborly news – inmenlo.com

The Grammy-nominated ensemble singer from Menlo Park sounds off about her first time at Carnegie Hall, why she doesn’t play soccer with bare feet and the song that made her cry on a plane.

Where do you sing?
I’m a cantor at St. Raymond Catholic Church in Menlo Park and perform with two Bay Area choral ensembles: Peninsula Cantare and the San Francisco Bach Choir.

Did you attend the Grammy Awards?
For “Best Choral Performance” nominees, the artistic director and the composer attend. While I was watching from home, my phone was blowing up with texts and pictures from my fellow ensemble members and folks at the ceremony sharing pictures and memories of our performance.

How do you approach singing solo versus as part of a chorus?
You really have to change the way you listen. In an ensemble, you have to make sure that you blend with the singers around you and move as one unit. When you sing as a soloist, you alone are vocally responsible for the emotion and direction of the piece.

What do you collect?
Vintage sheet music. I treasure the arrangements I have of pop music from the 1940s made famous by Doris Day.

Tell us about your first time at Carnegie Hall.
It was with The Oratorio Society of New York for the world premiere of Paul Moravec’s Sanctuary Road. The performance made me feel like I had finally arrived as a New Yorker and my “commute” from my apartment was a short subway ride to one of the grandest concert halls in the world. It all felt very fabulous and surreal.

Is there a piece of music you could listen to again and again?
The second movement of Tchaikovsky’s Fifth Symphony. The first time I heard the French horn solo, I was on a plane and was so moved that I started sobbing.

Can you share a childhood musical memory?
When I was a little girl, I sang “Edelweiss” from The Sound of Music in front of a live audience for the first time at the local library talent show in my hometown of Darien, Connecticut.

What’s the dumbest way you’ve been hurt?
I was playing a pick-up soccer game in middle school, barefoot, against someone wearing Doc Marten steel-toe boots. Guess who ended up breaking their toe?

What’s your favorite venue for performing?
Madison Square Garden. I performed there several times with Andrea Bocelli during his North America tours and the energy of 20,000 people reacting to your music at once is electrifying!

What age would you choose to be again?
I would be six years old because I loved kindergarten and have so many happy memories. My favorite was going to The Plaza hotel in New York City for tea for my sixth birthday, like Eloise from the Kay Thompson books.

What are you looking forward to this summer?
I’m singing the National Anthem at games for a couple of Bay Area professional sports teams. I’ll have more info on my website, thecharlottereed.com.

As told to by Margaret Koenig

I’m Buster, a terrier mix of many talents, including (but not limited to) snuggling, frolicking and delighting everyone I meet. With my scruffy good looks, outgoing nature and boundless energy, it’s hard not to fall prey to my charms. Three years ago, I bounded out of the Humane Society Silicon Valley shelter in Milpitas and into the lives of Hilary and Ed—and I haven’t looked back since. My love of cuddling delighted my new family, who happily let me squeeze between them on the sofa when they watch television. As for me, I enjoy their fondness for petting me (you know, you can never get too much of that). But you don’t get a name like Buster just by being affectionate—I have a frisky streak as well. We split our time between Palo Alto and Los Gatos, where I enjoy brisk walks with Ed, playing ‘keep away’ with Hilary and chasing squirrels in the backyard. I haven’t captured any squirrels yet, but I have mastered the art of pilfering biscuits. If I’m presented with a dog treat, I’ll snatch it and dash away so easily that I sometimes suspect people are letting me have them. But be careful, because I won’t just steal your dog biscuits or your spot on the sofa—I’ll also steal your heart.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Words by Margaret Koenig

What better place to put a local history museum than in a historic house? Preservation-minded Woodsiders did just that—but it wasn’t easy. Construction on one-time Pioneer Hotel owner Peter Mathisen’s house in Woodside Town Center was completed one day before the 1906 earthquake struck, according to local lore. For the next 85 years, three generations of his family called it home. In 1992, the town of Woodside bought the old Mathisen farmstead, including the barn, bunkhouse and surrounding land, planning to tear down the structures and install parking spaces. Fast-forward to 1999, when the much-delayed parking project was finally getting underway. Members of the Woodside History Committee pleaded with the Town Council to spare the sturdy old farmhouse, a reminder of Woodside’s humble origins. It’s a deal, the council said, but only if you can raise the hundreds of thousands of dollars the project will cost—and, by next week, draw up a plan for relocating the house from its current site.

Remarkably, the volunteer committee pulled it off. Woodside architects Thalia and Steve Lubin drafted plans for repairing and renovating the Mathisen house, uncovering its original siding and restoring its porch. Woodside contractor William Butler’s firm handled the work and in 2003, the Woodside Community Museum opened its doors with an exhibit on the area’s first inhabitants: the Ohlone. Since then, exhibitions have celebrated everything from the town’s equestrian heritage and great estates to its long history of wine-making. The museum’s newest display honors the 100th anniversary of the Woodside Fire Protection District. Visit on the first and third Saturdays of the month from 1 to 3PM; admission is free. woodsidehistory.org

Words by Johanna Harlow

Silent and still is something SFO Museum is not. At San Francisco International Airport, Terminal 2 is alive with the whir of rolling luggage and the constant murmur and flow of people. Some stop to appreciate a museum display, resting their arms on suitcase handles. Others hitch up their backpack straps and press on to the nearby bookstore or Air Canada lounge. One harried traveler rushes by in a whirlwind of wheels and heels in a desperate bid to make her plane.

“Over 52 million passengers from all over the world travel through annually,” says Nicole Mullen as she halts before San Francisco: City of the World, one of the museum’s many galleries scattered throughout the airport. “Our goal is to do shows that can delight and engage a vast public audience and can be accessible to a lot of people.” Nicole, the curator in charge of exhibitions, strikes a whimsical figure in a floral-print dress and librarian-chic glasses. She wears a lobster broach on her coat and an octopus bracelet clasped around her wrist.

SFO Museum got its start in 1980 as a way to humanize the airport and showcase the rich culture of the Bay Area, Nicole explains. Today, it’s grown to 25 locations throughout SFO with exhibits ranging from popular culture, design and history to technology, ethnography, folk art, natural history and beyond. It also includes photography galleries and the Aviation Museum and Library. “There’s always something new and compelling to work on,” she says.

No plane ticket? No problem. Your passport to learning doesn’t require a boarding pass. A handful of exhibits are located in publicly accessible pre-security areas, while the ones beyond a checkpoint can be accessed through prior arrangement with SFO Museum.

Eclectic Collections

Back at the San Francisco: City of the World exhibit, a couple of travelers pause to check out memorabilia from 1940s Chinatown nightclubs. Nearby, a mother pauses to rummage around in her bag while her little boy runs circles around the display cases in frog-print boots.

“I’m very proud of this show,” says Nicole, explaining that multiple local historical societies banded together to make it happen. Cases in a Golden Gate-red hold a wealth of items. A wool bathing suit from Sutro Baths, a thick section of steel strands from a cable car, an air vent grill from Alcatraz, a 1950s book titled Don’t Call it Frisco—each artifact a glimpse into this city’s big personality. Nicole points out some battered items salvaged from the 1906 earthquake. “That’s a teapot from the rubble,” she says. “Our photographer on staff, that was passed down from his grandmother.”

Besides other museums, Nicole collaborates with private collectors—and it’s one of her favorite parts of the job. Take Brian Coleman, an antiquarian from Seattle who lives in a colorful Queen Anne painted with sunflowers and griffins. “His whole house is bedecked floor to ceiling in the Victorian era. It’s quite spectacular,” Nicole marvels. Among his many loans to the museum: a pair of Victorian beaded slippers for Stepping Out: Shoes in World Cultures and an ornate nut bowl decorated with tiny silver squirrels for Eclectic Taste: Victorian Silver Plate.

For another exhibition, Metallica guitarist Kirk Hammet lent the museum his collection of classic monster memorabilia. His fiendish frenzy of monster magazines, mummy paint-by-numbers, Dracula lunch boxes, Frankenstein figurines and the prop head of the Creature from the Black Lagoon certainly made a splash in Terminal 2.

Occasionally, Nicole has to get creative to win over a more hesitant collector—on one memorable occasion doing so through his penchant for pastries. “I baked him pumpkin bread,” she smiles. “After that we were fast friends.”

The Curator Herself

As Nicole and I set off in the direction of Harvey Milk Terminal 1, she tells me how she ended up here. All around us, travelers pace by with pillows or headphones wrapped around their necks. A girl’s volleyball team, all in bouncy ponytails and leggings, move as one. And a coterie of Emirates flight attendants glide past in immaculate uniforms of crimson and cream.

“Museums are in my blood,” Nicole tells me. “It was something that I kind of lived and breathed.” In Plymouth, Massachusetts, Nicole’s mother worked as a site supervisor on the Mayflower II, a ship gifted to the United States by the English in the 1950s. At seven, little Nicole helped her out as a historic interpreter. “To spend more time with me, she took me to work with her on weekends,” Nicole explains. “I dressed in period attire as a 17th-century English immigrant.” Her role included talking about life aboard the Mayflower in 1620 and playing cat’s cradle with young visitors. By 14, she’d graduated to a paid position in visitor service.

Later, Nicole admits to rebelling against the business she’d known all her life. “When I went to college, I kind of wanted to get away from museums,” she confesses. It didn’t last.

After a year and a half in jobs she didn’t enjoy, Nicole accepted her fate. Museums were where she was meant to be. “I met so many interesting museum people from such an early age and have always been around them,” she explains. “Armed with an undergraduate degree in cultural anthropology, I applied for a job at the Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology at UC Berkeley as the education specialist—and the rest is history!”

Nicole landed a position at SFO Museum 15 years ago—and more than 75 curated shows later, she’s going strong.

Past Favorites

One of Nicole’s favorite exhibitions, From Pineapple to Piña: A Philippine Textile Treasure, explored the weaving of pineapple leaf fibers into lacey handkerchiefs, blouses and even shawls in the late 18th and 19th centuries. “These fibers are knotted by hand,” Nicole says in wonderment.

After talking about a show that featured a flurry of leotards from the San Francisco Ballet, Nicole pivots to the time they partnered with the California Academy of Sciences on a natural history exhibit. That show required SFO Museum team to wheel in a number of jarred specimens. “That was pretty wild,” she laughs. “We had a 19th-century giant squid in ethanol, in this antique jar.” They transported it in a van designed to carry hazardous material.

Another tricky task involved bringing in a car for an Art Deco-themed show. “That had to come in at night,” Nicole recalls. “All the engine oil had to be drained. It had to be pushed from the curb … That was quite a feat!”

The Sky’s the Limit

At last, we arrive at our intended destination—Rosie the Riveter: Womanpower in Wartime. “Our program is evolving with the airport,” Nicole tells me. “When they redid Harvey Milk Terminal 1, we gained two new gallery spaces.” This show, orchestrated by Nicole’s fellow curator Daniel Calderon, is a tribute to grit and girl power during World War II. Its cases are stocked with heavy-duty coveralls, rivet guns and welding helmets, plus motivational posters proclaiming slogans like “Women: There’s work to be done and a war to be won” and “Do the job he left behind.” Spirited swing music spills from the speakers.

The walls and ceiling of this space have not been painted your typical “gallery white.” Instead, they’re pitch black. When we step inside, it feels like the gallery has swallowed us up—but in a good way. “People are intrigued by going into this dark gallery space,” describes Nicole of the immersive experience. “They can really step out of the airport for a minute.”

It’s to be expected from an exhibition located in the newly redeveloped terminal. This award-winning concourse is a testament to innovation, featuring rooms for yoga and meditation. It also has a soundproof Sensory Room for neurodivergent travelers with a soothing area stocked with squishy pillows and a mockup of an airplane cabin with two rows of seats for travelers to prepare for the experience of flying.

It goes to show that SFO Museum has evolved as the airport does. Nicole spotlights the (pre-security) Aviation Museum and Library, which opened along with the International Terminal in 2000. Its design replicates the airport’s original 1930s passenger lobby and currently features airline travel posters, Virgin America ephemera and century-old propellers.

Nicole mentions one more recent change. A few years back, the museum’s team of 35 gained a new site to work their behind-the-scenes magic. “We do it all here,” she says. “We have a state-of-the-art storage facility, a conservation lab, we have a wonderful design lab where our designer lays everything out. We have an in-house wood shop and a welding shop.” There’s even a room for mannequin assembly. It’s no wonder SFO Museum is the only airport-located museum accredited by the American Alliance of Museums.

Our tour ends in front of Everyday Elegance in Chinese Ceramics, one of the pre-security exhibit spaces. From one of the cases, a “guardian lion” statue watches steadfastly over TSA. “Whether it is a plastic toy telephone or Chinese jade from the Asian Art Museum, every object is treated as a precious object,” the curator says. “Our registration department handles everything with gloves.”

The guest experience is just as valuable. “We have the ability to reach people who maybe wouldn’t purchase a ticket and go see this particular museum exhibition,” Nicole reflects. “They happen to stumble upon it here and they’re fascinated by it, or something moves them or there’s a nostalgia factor that hits home … It’s very rewarding to reach that type of audience.” Nearby, a family of eight gives a young man a heartfelt sendoff, waving fervently as they stand beside a display of glazed pottery.

find your gate – sfomuseum.org

Words by Bob Siegel

If you’ve made the drive down University Avenue towards the Dumbarton Bridge in recent months, you probably noticed a giant modernist sculpture at the edge of an empty field. It looks a bit like liquid mercury with its shiny, silvery color, and fluid, rounded surfaces. Not only is the shape intriguing, but so is the apparent incongruity of the location. If you tried to capture an image of it, you might have found that the sculpture is more adept at capturing you, as its undulating surface acts like a funhouse mirror, reflecting you in myriad orientations and distortions. Composed of stainless steel and standing an imposing 18 feet high, it originally debuted at the Burning Man festival in Nevada in 2019, where it conjured up the image of a shimmering mirage in the desert. It’s called Talking Heads, and it’s the work of local artist Oleg Lobykin. Born in Russia, Oleg lives in East Palo Alto—so the sculpture found a fitting temporary home. If you’re wondering why it’s gone missing in 2025, Oleg says Talking Heads recently found a new home in San Francisco at Patricia’s Green Park. A highly creative sculptor and stone craftsman, Oleg is also responsible for the statues of Benjamin Franklin and Johannes Gutenberg that adorn the front of the Stanford University Quad. That’s not Oleg’s only contribution to the Quad. He’s also involved in the ongoing restoration of its sandstone architecture. People are likely to have their own interpretations of Talking Heads. This intriguing landmark awaits yours.

Words by Johanna Harlow

San Francisco has a reputation for attracting some real characters. The City by the Bay has long been a favorite filming location. Remember when Scottie from Vertigo visits the graveyard at Mission Dolores and Eddie from Venom battles it out in the Tenderloin’s alleys? Or The Maltese Falcon’s Sam Spade witnessing a boat go up in flames over at the Ferry Building? And who isn’t familiar with the Fuller House family’s home in the row of Victorians known as the Painted Ladies? But it doesn’t take a trip to SF to find filming locations close to home. We have our fair share of scenic cinema-scapes right here on the Peninsula.

Our region’s stately mansions have been the settings for outlandish parties, while our sweeping natural landscapes have also graced the big screen. Classrooms and courtrooms, bridges and bluffs, these Peninsula places can’t help but capture the imagination. “We have everything,” says SF Peninsula’s film commissioner Cam Newton. “We have vast open spaces. We have mountains. We have what look like deserts. We have quaint downtowns. Every setting that you could possibly hope for in a movie is all within a half-hour drive.”

You may have stood in the same places where Robin Williams, Brendan Fraser, Jennifer Lopez and Zac Efron delivered iconic lines. You may even have attended school where Michelle Pfeiffer played an inspirational teacher. Check out the scene at these cinematic settings.

Cover Photo Courtesy of: Mike James / Interior Photo: Jeff Bartee

George of the Jungle Swings by Filoli

Pick a genre, any genre, and there’s probably a film that features Filoli. Fantasy, action, rom-com, drama, soap opera, thriller, musical—they’ve all been shot on its grounds. Is it any wonder? Those who have wandered the historic estate’s idyllic gardens and admired its ambitious architecture understand its magic. You’ll spot an aerial view of Filoli’s mansion and clocktower in the opening credits of every episode of the iconic 1980s soap opera Dynasty, and glimpse the estate’s gravel driveway during an unsettling scene in The Game, a thriller starring Michael Douglas.

Filoli’s ballroom, covered in murals and etched in ornate gold trim, has long drawn filmmakers. It’s been the site of a seductive dance during a pre-war Shanghai flashback in The Joy Luck Club and where Joanne and Maureen of Rent belt out the song “Take Me or Leave Me.” In George of the Jungle, everyone’s favorite ape man horrifies high society when he piles food from the buffet onto a serving tray lid he’s turned into a makeshift plate, then tucks a banana into his tux. This luxurious hall is also Joe’s home gym in Heaven Can Wait, a harp positioned right beside a rack of weights.

Photo Courtesy of: Brandon Price

High School Musical Sings at Stanford

Remember the plucky cast of High School Musical? As the theater kids and athletes ponder where to attend university in the trilogy’s final film, Vanessa Hudgens’ character chooses Stanford. As she settles into college life, we see her walking the courtyard behind Wallenberg Hall. She and Zac Efron also share a sweet song and dance in the Papua New Guinea Garden—right after he stares deeply into her eyes and murmurs, “My prom is wherever you are.” Ah, young love.

A university known for its advancements in the sciences, Stanford also has a cameo in multiple episodes of the long-running TV show Myth Busters. Hosts Adam and Jamie tested out the college’s driving simulator at the Volkswagen Automotive Innovation Lab for an experiment on driving with hands-free devices, tried out a mass spectrometer in an episode on germs and recruited the rowing team at the Stanford Rowing and Sailing Center to attempt the theoretical and outlandish sport of “row-skiing” (waterskiing behind a row boat). Bill Nye the Science Guy also filmed on campus, meeting with biologist and professor Chris R. Somerville to explore “Pollution Solutions.”

Photo Courtesy of: Don Debold

A Fishing Village Comes to Fitzgerald Marine Reserve

Did you know the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve served as a Shōwa period Japanese fishing village in 2016? For the movie adaptation of bestseller Memoirs of a Geisha, a film crew constructed a small hut along the bluffs of Moss Beach. Over two days, they shot the movie’s somber opening scene, establishing our heroine Chiyo’s impoverished childhood and the betrayal that sets her story in motion. Beyond that stormy ocean overlook, you’ll also recognize the cypress grove where a cart rattles along uneven ground. The film also shot verdant scenes at nearby Hakone Gardens in Saratoga and the Japanese Tea Garden at San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park.

Photo Courtesy of: Dennis Jarvis

Flubber Bounces Around Kohl Mansion

Over the years, Burlingame’s Kohl Mansion has been the site of a few ghost stories—so is it really a leap to imagine sentient green goo bouncing off its walls? Flubber, starring Robin Williams as a scatterbrained inventor, used the mansion for exterior shots of the fictional Medfield College. But it’s not just an educational institute in this comedy—it’s home to Mercy Burlingame, an all-girls private high school since 1931.

No stranger to show business, Kohl Mansion was memorialized in film long before “the talkies,” serving as a key set on the silent 1921 film Little Lord Fauntleroy. Considering that the mansion once belonged to Frederick Kohl, heir to the Alaska Commercial Company, this locale seems a particularly fitting one for the story of a poor little rich boy.

Photo Courtesy of: Robb Most

The Escape to Witch Mountain Kids Enter Coleman Mansion

The Italianate Coleman Mansion might be held in esteem by historians and architects, but to the kids in Escape to Witch Mountain, it’s another jungle gym. In this 1975 Disney film, the first glimpse the audience gets of the manor-turned-orphanage is of youngsters shimmying up its Corinthian columns and sliding down the handrail flanking the front steps. In the real world, the Menlo Park estate was converted into a private school, not an orphanage—and some of its lucky students played extras in the film. You’ll spot a number of Peninsula School kids chasing each other around in the background while the camera follows Tony and Tia, a young psychic and telekinetic. The field trip to the cinema was shot nearby at the Fine Arts Theatre on California Avenue. It stopped showing screenings long ago—serving as an oriental rug shop, then ZombieRunner, the beloved cafe and running store—but you’ll still find the original marquee above the entry.

Photo Courtesy of: Robb Most

Harold & Maude Put Pedal to the Metal across Dumbarton Bridge

Harold and Maude are certainly one of the Bay Area’s odder film couples. In this cult classic, a death-obsessed young man who drives a hearse and has a habit of staging melodramatic fake suicides goes on wild escapades all around the Peninsula with his 79-year-old car thief of a girlfriend. Their misadventures take them from St. Thomas Aquinas Church in Palo Alto (where the couple first meet) to Marshall Street in Redwood City (where Maude “liberates” a street tree with the intention of transplanting it in the forest) to the old Dumbarton Bridge (where Maude peels off, a motorcycle cop in hot pursuit).

There’s more. Hillsborough’s Rosecourt Mansion along leafy Eucalyptus Avenue acts as Harold’s family home. In real life, the private residence belonged to George T. Cameron, publisher of the San Francisco Chronicle. And let’s not forget the scene at Mori Point, a picturesque spot in Pacifica where a car careens wildly off the cliffs.

Photo Courtesy of: Robb Most

The Wedding Planner Comes to Crystal Springs Reservoir

What better place for a wedding than Woodside? In Jennifer Lopez’s film The Wedding Planner, an idyllic scene takes viewers for a car ride along Crystal Springs Reservoir. As the camera catches fluffy clouds above that shimmering expanse of water, it reminds us that it might be time for another leisurely drive along Highway 35. Bay Area moviegoers will also recognize one of the places the bride-to-be checks out as a possible venue. It’s Filoli again, its grounds flush with springtime daffodils, tulips and flowering trees.

Photo Courtesy of: Robb Most

Dangerous Minds go to Class at San Mateo High School

Time to hit the books. Both San Mateo and Burlingame high schools were used for filming in the drama Dangerous Minds. Based on a memoir, the story relays the experiences of LouAnne Johnson, a U.S. Marine who became a teacher at Carlmont High School, a Belmont institute with a rough reputation back in the ‘80s. LouAnne must have been over the moon when she found out she’d be played by Michelle Pfeiffer.

Photo Courtesy of: Jerry Pierce

Bicentennial Man explores oracle

Can you really have too much Robin Williams? We think not. Bicentennial Man, the tale of a housekeeping robot who gains consciousness and learns what it means to be human, seems a fitting story for Silicon Valley. When the robot and his custodian pay a visit to NorthAm Robotics, they are actually outside Oracle Corporation in Redwood City. As the two of them share a heart-to-heart, the tech company’s impressive blue glass office towers gleam in the distance. Only a 20-minute drive down the road is the Martin family home. Their charming ivy-covered English manor house with wave-course shingles is the main house of the Fleishhacker family’s 74-acre Green Gables Estate in Woodside.

Photo Courtesy of: Hakan Dahlstrom

Mrs. Doubtfire visits San Mateo County History Museum

Raring for more Robin Williams? Mrs. Doubtfire may have mostly filmed in San Francisco, but Redwood City’s San Mateo County History Museum also featured in this beloved family film. Before it became a museum, this stately building with its stained-glass dome and stone eagles served as the old County Courthouse. You can still step into a fully furnished courtroom upstairs and imagine Robin Williams pleading his case with the judge. While you’re there, don’t forget to check out the museum’s exhibit on lawmakers and breakers with displays of sheriff’s badges and a pair of dueling pistols.

I’m Romeo, and while I may be named after Shakespeare’s star-crossed lover, my life in Menlo Park is anything but tragic. This labradoodle’s got a very good thing going with Carolyn and her three kids, Maxwell, Madeline and Curtis, who brought me home on Valentine’s Day 10 years ago. We go on frequent trips to Town & Country and Stanford shopping centers, where I collect goodies from all the businesses. Sunny days often find us at the beach in Half Moon Bay, where I like to bury balls in the sand to dig up and play with later. And in the evenings, we go visit my favorite dogs and their treat-sharing humans at La Entrada School. I haven’t romanced any Capulets but I’m a little like my namesake in some ways—I love giving kisses! I just can’t get enough petting and snuggling, and I hate to sleep alone. I have so much love to give that Carolyn signed me up with Furry Friends as a trained therapy dog. You might find me at local schools during finals week, helping stressed-out students relax, or hanging out with residents at the Vi’s skilled nursing center and the Ronald McDonald House. If ol’ Will had only had an affectionate dog like me, maybe he would have been inspired to write Romeo and Juliet a happier ending.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

Words by Jennifer Jory

Andrew Fraknoi is a man on a mission—a space mission, that is. For decades, he’s inspired and educated both students and the public on the wonders of astronomy, from Foothill and Cañada colleges to San Francisco State University. “This is the golden age of astronomy,” Andrew declares. From radio stations and local TV to The Today Show, he’s become the Bay Area’s go-to astronomer for explaining celestial phenomena in down-to-earth terms. “My focus right now is to interpret the complex and abstract things we are learning about the universe so that people can understand them,” he says.

Born in Hungary, Andrew and his family fled during the 1956 revolution against communist rule, and ended up in an Austrian refugee camp. From there, they ultimately made their way to New York. “I didn’t speak a word of English,” Andrew recalls. “My mother had the idea of using comic books to teach English to me, and I particularly loved space comics.” He soon graduated to science fiction, and when it came time to choose what to study in college, astronomy was his first choice. “Eventually, I realized I could do space stuff for a living,” he beams.

Andrew’s excitement builds as he discusses the latest astronomical discoveries. “It looks like Star Trek was right,” he says with a smile. “There really are planets around other stars.” In 1995, the common perception was that there were just a few planets outside of our own solar system, Andrew explains. “Now we know there are other suns and 5,000 planets orbiting those suns or stars.” Recent breakthroughs and advances in astronomy are thanks to the James Webb Space Telescope.

“This is the biggest telescope we have ever had in space, allowing us to look back to the beginning of time,” he marvels. While light travels swiftly, the incredible distances mean that the images show galaxies as they appeared a very long time ago. “We are now seeing things 13.4 billion years old that are very close to the big bang,” Andrew adds, referring to the theory of the universe’s origin 13.8 billion years ago. “The earliest galaxies and structures are so far away and so long ago, they are amazing.”

Educated at Harvard University and UC Berkeley, Andrew’s career as an astronomer took off in 1978 when he was hired as the executive director of the Astronomical Society of the Pacific. Fourteen years later, working 80 hours a week at his job and newly married to his wife Lola, he realized the pace was unsustainable. In search of a less intense job, he applied for a teaching position at Foothill College in Los Altos Hills, where he was quickly hired and began a new devotion to teaching about space full time. “It was a very good fit,” he notes. “They have a lovely observatory run by a group of astronomy hobbyists and it was a job where I could have a life. I was there for 25 years and we grew the program significantly.”

Andrew also taught at Cañada College in Woodside, where the enthusiastic public affairs officer connected him with KGO radio. He soon became a regular, and could also be found sharing his astronomical insights on KQED TV. “I was a cheap imitation of Carl Sagan,” Andrew says humbly. The scientific community thought otherwise and the International Astronomical Union recognized his achievements by naming Asteroid 4859 “Asteroid Fraknoi.”

While teaching at Foothill, Andrew saw an opportunity to make astronomy education more widely available by creating a lecture series in the college’s 950-seat theater. Called Silicon Valley Astronomy Lectures, it featured Nobel Prize winners and best-selling authors. NASA took an interest in the program and offered to sponsor it. “Foothill College administrators were so enthusiastic they allowed us to use the theater for free,” Andrew recounts. Soon Andrew began making the scientific talks available on YouTube so that anyone interested in space could hear from experts. “These nerdy lectures have received 4.1 million views,” he grins. “The astronomer Alex Filippenko’s videos explain the James Webb telescope, and it is like watching Columbus get his ships ready.”

Andrew’s other focus centers on the search for life on other planets, which he pursues enthusiastically as a board member of the non-profit SETI Institute, headquartered in Mountain View. “This is the most exciting unsolved mystery in the universe,” he says. “Before I die, I would love to find out if there are other life-forms out there with whom we might talk about philosophy.  Being involved with the search for life has been a gratifying part of my career.” He also wants to set the record straight when it comes to unidentified flying objects. “There is not a shred of evidence that UFOs are alien space ships.”

In the search for intelligent life on other planets, Andrew cites Artificial Intelligence as a game-changing technology when it comes to listening for messages. “You have to look through many stars, through many channels, over a long period of time,” he describes. “With AI, computers and telescopes can work together, while the astronomer sleeps. AI can search for pattern recognition, which is key to searching for messages from space.”

Andrew’s passion to teach the marvels of the universe keeps him on the lecture circuit promoting space education for all. He currently teaches at San Francisco State University’s Osher Lifelong Learning Institute and offers classes like “If There Are Planets Everywhere, Where Are the Aliens?” and one on simplifying the theory of relativity without math called “Einstein Without Tears.” His commitment to communicating scientific concepts in layman’s terms has culminated in his free, online astronomy textbook that has become the most widely used volume on the subject.

Andrew doesn’t just write textbooks, he’s also tried his hand at science fiction. His childhood passion for the genre of the fantastic and intergalactic is still burning bright all these years later. “I have been keeping a notebook of ideas for decades,” he confesses. Despite what he calls “rejection slips from all over,” eight of his sci-fi stories have been published. Andrew now pays it forward to the next generation of future astronomers by writing the kinds of stories that captured his imagination as a young immigrant—a little inspiration for anyone else who wants to reach for the stars.

Editor’s note: This story corrects errors that appeared in the February 2025 print edition.

The CEO of Mountain View’s Harrell Design + Build talks about her top travel treasures, the motto that keeps her motivated and the laundry room feature you didn’t know you needed.

What’s most rewarding about working in the design, build and home remodeling field?
Seeing how the smallest tweaks and clever space planning can have the biggest impact on how one lives in a home.

What are some highlights from your early career?
My mom and I had a design studio together for 12 years prior to my move to California in 2000. We had the pleasure of working with Target Corporation, and worked with the “starchitect” Michael Graves on the restoration of the Washington Monument in D.C.

Is there a movie you can watch over and over?
The Way. Although the movie is about the Camino de Santiago, the movie partly inspired my goal to walk the entire Via Francigena in Italy. This is another pilgrimage walk from Canterbury to the Vatican. I’ve completed 60 miles of it, north of Rome.

Do you have a personal motto?
Produce or die! A friend’s father told her and her seven siblings this every morning. I find it hilarious, yet meaningful, but I have yet to say this out loud at work!

What’s a unique feature you’ve added to a home?
Adding a jetted laundry sink for gentle washing is great!

What’s one thing you’ve brought back from a trip abroad?
One? I love finding local art and bringing it home. Best souvenirs ever.

Is there something people are surprised to learn about you?
As a kid, I was in a Mr. Bubble commercial, and a commercial with John Denver. I also skied with Billy Kidd for a Hart Skis ad.

Have you always been in this line of work?
My first post-college “career” was in film production: I worked with the author/playwright David Mamet and William H. Macy as well as on a number of national commercials.

How did you get into Chinese calligraphy?
My daughter took Mandarin lessons for seven years, and the only adult class held at that same time was Chinese Calligraphy. I have always been fascinated with font design, and the characters are intriguing as a visual art form. It is meditative and calming—and learning the brush techniques and control takes years of practice.

What’s your biggest home-related pet peeve?
Poor consideration for sight lines. (Can we not see the toilet first thing, please?) And not treating the ceiling well.

What’s the best part of your weekend routine?
Not making plans! I hesitate to make weekend plans as my week is fairly structured. It’s my “unstructured play time.”

What do you collect?
Many things, but the oddest of them are probably my oil can collection from the London Eastern Railway and my plumb bob collection!

Words by Margaret Koenig

Believe it or not, the last free-flowing urban creek in the southern Peninsula might be right in your backyard. If you follow San Francisquito Creek from its mouth in the eastern Santa Cruz mountains to where it flows into the San Francisco Bay, your trek would take you through Portola Valley, Woodside, Palo Alto, East Palo Alto and Menlo Park, through nature preserves and residential neighborhoods alike. With an estimated length of 12.5 miles, the creek is the largest on the western margin of the San Francisco Bay and has no fewer than 22 tributaries. Though it’s little more than a dry creek bed during the summer, San Francisquito roars back to life in the rainy season.

Long before the San Francisquito was “discovered” by Spaniards in 1769, the area was home to the indigenous Ohlone population for roughly 15,000 years. The Lamchin tribe, a branch of the Ohlone, once lived along its banks, though this changed with the arrival of a Spanish exploration party led by Don Gaspar de Portolá in 1769. Portolá’s party camped alongside the creek for five nights, and in the period of Spanish colonialism that followed, the San Francisquito came to mark the territorial divide between the missions of San Francisco and Santa Clara. Today, the creek still serves as a geographical border, separating Palo Alto from East Palo Alto and Menlo Park, along with their respective counties of Santa Clara and San Mateo. After disastrous flooding in 1998 damaged more than 1,700 properties, the San Francisquito Creek Joint Powers Authority was formed to oversee the waterway, which is home to California Central Coast steelhead trout, a threatened species. Try to catch a glimpse of them via online images from the city of Palo Alto’s creek monitor cameras, or in-person by strolling across one of its pedestrian bridges, like the one at El Palo Alto Park.

I’m so pleased to meet you! I’m Aki, a friendly mutt sporting white freckled “socks” and a white-tipped tail. Let me tell you about my family. Mike and Mia’s three girls had been begging for a dog, so they decided to check out some local shelters. Their first stop was Pets In Need in Palo Alto. I was only five months old, but I knew right away that these were my people. After spending a little time together, I made my intentions clear by resting my head on each of their laps. They understood that I had chosen them, so they took me home to San Mateo. Mike and Mia quickly realized that I didn’t like my shelter name of Autumn. (Go ahead, try calling me Autumn. I’ll act like I don’t even hear you.) They renamed me Aki, which means autumn in Japanese, and now I happily come when they call. Another thing about me is that I look out for my friends. At the park, I protect my little buddy, a Jack Russell terrier, from any aggressive advances. I play hide and seek with the girls and cover them in affectionate, slobbery kisses. My family describes me as fiercely intelligent, playful and a tiny bit mischievous. They have to make sure I don’t see where they hide my treats, because I will remember that location forever and do my best to get at them when nobody’s looking.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.

If you think that Jimmy Fallon is the friendliest late-night host, then I’m just like my namesake. Actually, I’m #jimmyfallon (it’s a long story), but I answer to Fallon and I firmly believe that every stranger is just a friend I haven’t met yet. I was the runt of a litter of ShiPorkis (Shi Tzu, poodle and Yorkshire terrier mix) when I was brought to the Stanford Faculty Club and adopted by Diane just before Christmas 2015. She says that my eyelashes go on for days and make women jealous. She used to fret about my “lack of boundaries” when meeting new people, but if everyone adores me, what is there to worry about? On Christmas Eve last year, I had an accident that left my hind legs paralyzed, but thanks to a great surgeon at UC Davis and intensive rehab at Scout’s House, I’m back on all four feet. I still wake up every day happy and ready to befriend anyone who will give me a scratch behind the ears in exchange for a little kiss. Diane wants me to take it easy, so she got a stroller for our longer daily walks around San Mateo. When I’m not hopping in and out, I sit like a captain on the prow of his ship, offering a friendly greeting to everyone we meet.

Calling All Dogs: If you've got quirky habits or a funny tale (or tail) to share, email your story to hello@punchmonthly.com for a chance to share a page from your Diary of a Dog in PUNCH.