Gary Moffat is a writer, former publishing executive and 2000 transplant from Chicago whose family launched one of Old Town Auburn’s favorite entertainment venues, Carpe Vino, in 2002. Moffat, who now has a print outlet for his opinions in a regular Sentinel column, has written for the Chicago Tribune, national shelter magazines, telecom industry publications and two self-published Internet newsletters. And, oh yeah, he wrote more than 100 columns on wine for the Auburn Journal. Carpe Vino, his latest venture, is a local magnet for lovers of fine wine, fine dining and fine art.
Come the early morning hours of September 16, it will be easy to mistake the lock-up at the Placer County Jail as a casting call for the next James Bond thriller.
Look, there’s Dr. Evil sitting on the bench next to Odd Job. And isn’t that Pussy Galore with the clunky, chrome bracelets? Funny, I don’t remember her wearing those in Goldfinger. And count them: seven disheveled James Bonds, each one visibly shaken, locked in “stir.”
It doesn’t take a Hollywood mogul to imagine the scene that will unfold following this year’s Black & White Ball production of 007 Bond: License to Thrill. An untold number of hard partiers could lose their motor vehicle operator’s licenses for 2008 after they are arrested for Driving Under the Influence (DUI). As a modest consolation, they’ll get a free photo session and one night’s lodging ... a License to Chill in the Placer County cooler.
This column debuted July 13th in the Sentinel without a word of explanation. It just appeared, and that was probably a mistake. I should have shared with you my goals for this weekly monologue, and I should have introduced myself.
I’ve never been a “joiner” or a club person, and after observing recent pyrotechnics at the Elks Lodge on Pine Street, I am reminded why.
If you missed the story—broken in Auburn’s daily newspaper—the Elks have been embroiled in a dust-up with the City over improvements to the club’s half-paved, half-gravel parking lot. If reports are to be trusted, the Lodge has been quietly making improvements to its grounds—sans necessary permits—and someone ratted to the City.
I have seen “The Other Side of Auburn,” and it is the 160 Club, a venerable honky-tonk, watering hole and good-time emporium where I made my first memorable visit a few Saturdays ago.
Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder, but in Auburn, what is beautiful to one person is blighted to another. Just ask Earl Eisley.
His family has operated a nursery in Auburn for more than 100 years, and photos characterizing portions of his business on Nevada Street as "blighted" turned up in a report identifying areas for redevelopment in Auburn. Fearing his property was earmarked for condemnation under the city’s eminent domain powers, Eisley wasted no time in marshalling support forces at council meetings and through a letter-writing campaign to head off this perceived threat to his family’s legacy.
