Earliest Art Memories

Certain experiences with art from my childhood stand out in my memory. When I was in second or third grade, I liked to draw horses, and I was pretty good at it for my age. I turned in a horse drawing with homework one day. The next day, the teacher called me up to her desk for a private conversation about that drawing.

“Who drew this picture?” she asked, somewhat sternly. I was confused, since my name was clearly written on the drawing. I hesitated and she asked again, "WHO drew this picture?" I finally answered "I did," stating the obvious, I thought. 

Now the teacher looked confused. She said, “You didn’t draw this whole horse.” I said, “Yes, I did.” She said, “Didn’t someone else help you with this part?” pointing to the hooves. 

It was beginning to dawn on me that she didn’t believe I could draw a horse like that. I was beginning to feel insulted. After all, everyone in the classroom asked ME to help THEM draw horses. “No,” I said, “I drew the whole thing.” 

She was beginning to look doubtful, but it was clear that she still didn’t believe that I could draw like that, so I offered to draw one for her right there. She finally said that it wasn’t necessary, so I guess she believed me. 

I’ll never forget that moment, when an adult asked me a question that had an obvious answer, when I was accused to not being the author of my own work. 

When I was in the 6th or 7th grade, I was given a series of individual art lessons. I don’t know how this came about, whether a teacher suggested to my mother that my talent be encouraged, or if Mom thought about it on her own, or how my parents afforded it, for that matter. At the end of the first lesson, the teacher told me to sit outside and draw my own house before the next lesson. 

Apparently, even then I didn’t like plein air painting. I thought to myself, “I know perfectly well what my house looks like. I don’t need to go sit outside and look at it in order to draw it!” So I drew a highly accurate rendering of the house we were living in at that time. 

When I showed it to the teacher, she seemed quite bemused and finally said, “You didn’t sit outside and look at your house, did you?” I was quite surprised that she knew that, but I admitted I hadn’t. “But it looks just like my house,” I insisted.

She smiled, chuckled, shook her head, and said, “I’m sure it does, but it shows it from an angle that no one but a bird or someone on a ladder could see. If you were sitting outside and looking at it, you wouldn’t see the entire roof like this, and the house would sort of go up like this.” She demonstrated. I immediately “got it.” I understood the concept of point-of-view and perspective, and I also understood that accuracy is not the only goal of art.

Another vivid memory is taking a class field trip to see a Vincent Van Gogh exhibit. When and where it was has grown dim in my memory. I went online a couple of years ago and found that there had been such an exhibit in about 1958 at the old Los Angeles County Museum of Art or at the Southwestern Museum, but I can’t find that information online today. That date doesn’t fit with what age I remember being or where I remember living. 

Whatever time or place it was, I will NEVER forget the first time I saw a genuine Vincent Van Gogh painting! “Wowee,” I thought, not yet knowing the term “blew my mind.” By that time, I was familiar with many of Van Gogh’s works via reproductions, and I learned that reproductions cannot possibly convey the energy, beauty, and vivid colors of his art. I also remember thinking that I now understood why people liked looking at art, that it IS a worthwhile activity, that it’s worth it to go see the actual works. I was absolutely thrilled and exhilarated by that exhibit.

My fourth and final memory has to do with musical theater. We had an Uncle Bobby McColgin, who had been married for a few years to my father’s sister Ruth. He worked at Columbia records, and he occasionally grabbed a bunch of 33 1/3 rpm record albums  and mailed them to us. They were mostly out-of-date musicals, and my sister and I were always excited to get them. Our Mom liked to listen to them, too. I’m sure this is where my love of musical theater originated. 

When I was in high school, Bye Bye Birdie came to Los Angeles, with the original Broadway star, Dick Gautier, in the role of Birdie. Again, I don’t recall the venue. For some reason, Mom determined to take us to see it. We couldn’t afford it, and Dad would never “let” us go. He hated to drive downtown and he couldn’t drive us himself, so he would throw a fit if Mom tried to drive us. But Mom was determined and decided on our usual strategy -- we didn’t tell him and made up an elaborate story to cover our tracks.

After much excited anticipation, the big day of the matinee came. Mom drove my sister and me downtown, and we actually managed to get there alive. Poor Mom had to buy the cheapest tickets, and we were very high up and behind a pillar. We had to take turns peering around the pillar. But nothing got in the way of our enjoyment of the energetic singing and dancing and the bright colors of the show. When Dick Gautier did his sexy dance in that gold lame skin-tight outfit, Mom put her hands over her face and groaned. Then she tried to cover my sister’s eyes. It was too late for me, since mine were already popping out of my head. We all had a grand time and managed to get home safely without Dad finding out or getting mad at us. Seeing my first real musical is still a vivid memory. 

Now I’m remembering that when I was in the 4th or 5th grade, a girl I knew at school invited me to her house, and she wanted to play a record for me. It was “HMS Pinafore” and that was an ear-opening experience for me. I had no idea such things as musicals or operettas existed, and I absolutely LOVED this one. Another still vivid memory, and I’ll always be grateful to that little girl.

January 1, 2015

Monarch fluttered by
After so long without one
Its beauty blazes

Will I remember
New Year's Day as the last time
I saw a monarch

Grandma's Quilt

My grandmother, Rose Echo (Bonesteel) Brown (1898-1973), made a quilt out of my mother’s childhood dresses. My grandmother sewed all of my mother’s clothes, as I suppose many people did in those days, and she was a fantastic seamstress. She created a quilt with a random pattern, with pieces of cloth of various sizes and geometric shapes, known as a “crazy quilt.” My grandmother was very artistic, so even though the pieces are put together in no pattern, it is clear that she considered shape, color, and texture to create a pleasing abstract design.

This quilt was originally incredibly heavy and warm. I touch the heavy, scratchy, wool cloth and feel sorry for my mother having to wear what I would assume to have been quite uncomfortable, hot dresses. But maybe they were appreciated during the winters in Indiana. I don’t know, and now my mother, Vera Hope (Brown) Todd (1918-2003), is not around to ask. 

I also don’t know when Grandma made the quilt or when she gave it to Mom. Did she make it when Mom was young, to be put into a hope chest? Did she make it after Mom eloped with Dad in 1937 when she was only 18? My parents always indicated that Grandma didn’t approve of their marriage because she didn’t like my Dad, but now I am wondering if she was appropriately concerned that Mom, whose father had recently died and who had just graduated from high school, was too young and inexperienced to make such a decision as to marry my “wild” PK (Preacher’s Kid) father, and during a Depression, too. Maybe Grandma made the quilt and gave it to my parents after I was born seven years later, when she apparently “forgave” them for eloping.

All I know is that the quilt was in our house for as long as I can remember. It was always brought out when we were sick, to keep us warm and comfy. My sister, Jean Ann Todd (1946-2014), especially loved the quilt. It was held together with fuzzy yarn ties, and when she was a child, Jean loved to hug the quilt and rub the yarn between her fingers. She kept the quilt and used it for most of her adult life, until it became very worn. She gave it to me in 2007, and I simply stored it.

The quilt was originally backed with dark brown satin. Hand-tied beige yarn held front, back, and middle together every six inches. The middle was extremely heavy wool quilt stuffing. When I recently took it out of storage, I saw that the satin back was faded and in shreds. There were several rips in the front. I hand-sewed the tears on the front, but it was impossible to save the satin backing.

So I took the quilt apart. The satin backing peeled away fairly easily. I cut away the inner stuffing and tried to preserve all the yarn ties. I found and bought a dark brown sheet, made out of Modal, that matched the color of the satin as I remembered it. I did not replace the stuffing, since the quilt is plenty warm without it and it is bulky enough as is. Since I am not nearly as good at sewing as my grandmother or my cousin Peggy, I machine sewed the sheet to the quilt front, trying to preserve as much of Grandma’s original sewing as possible. It doesn’t look exactly as it did, but it is very close. It is now useable, and I am wondering if one of my daughter’s would want it.

Grandma's "Crazy Quilt"

Grief Another Way

My last "Untitled" post was a poem about the sudden, unexpected loss of my sister in March.  To see a visual expression of those feelings, click HERE.

Untitled

Oh crushing sorrow

Companion of my lifetime

Sister died Sunday

I failed to protect

My baby sister, Mommy

I deserve this grief

Trials of old age

Must now be faced on my own

Us torn asunder

Without her to share

Memories of our youth will

Slowly slip away

If only she'd called

If only she'd heard me say

Let people help you

Musings in a Cemetery

In October we went with the American Birding Association to see birds at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery in Point Loma, San Diego. It was a beautiful day, and the cemetery was full of lively, colorful birds, mostly Yellow-rumped Warblers and Western Bluebirds. At the same time, row after row of graves was very sad, especially when I started reading the headstones and saw how many of the dead were so young. I was moved to write a short poem:

Endless rows of graves
Thousands served and died too young
Stone perches for birds

A Short Poem on the Meaning of Life

Sea to shining sea
All this is your time, your turn
To enjoy and care

Meditations on Extinctions

Recently I began a series of paintings about the loss of bird species, and then I wrote some haiku-like poems on the same topic. (Since I wrote my first haiku, I have learned more about it and realize that mine are not really haiku, but haiku-esque.) I enjoy the challenge of trying to express an idea or feeling in 17 syllables, as well as on a two-dimensional piece of paper. Both are exercises in trying to express a great deal of meaning in a small work.

30,000 BC - 1884

Thousands of Great Auks

Lived eons on far islands

Sailors ate them all 

1870 - 1889

Millions of bison

Extirpated in less than 

Twenty years of sport

Passenger Pigeons

Billions when whites came

Tasty flesh and useful down

Hunters sold them all

Carolina Parakeets

Our only parrot,

Pretty on hats, a farm pest,

We destroyed their homes

The Cause

Habitat loss and

Invasive species cause bird

Disappearances

Blame

Invasive species
The enemies of wildlife
Indeed they are us

Nature in 2100

Crabgrass, cockroaches,

Carbon gas, and coyotes

There used to be birds

A Book Report

Just finished reading “Beautiful Ruins” by Jess Walter, an absolutely wonderful book, so many interesting fully realized characters, revealed by their behaviors in nuanced and touching scenes; a complex plot with interesting philosophical questions about the nature of time, memory, how our lives are affected by random events, how interconnected we all are. Also, hilarious at times. Sweet, sad, and disgusting at others. All this in gorgeous prose, with an occasional sentence that is PERFECT.

One of the characters is dying of cancer. From pages 314 - 315:

And the truth is, most of the time, she IS at peace, HAS led a great life, IS happy her son has returned. ... But other times, honestly, the whole idea of being at peace just pisses her off. At peace? Who but the insane would ever be at peace? What person who has enjoyed life could possibly think one is enough? Who could live even a day and not feel the sweet ache of regret?

I loved that sentence -- What person who has enjoyed life could possibly think one is enough? And that’s why I love a good book like this. For a while I get to live another life, a different life, several lives.

Page 325:

There would seem to be nothing more obvious,

more tangible and palpable than the present moment.

And yet it eludes us completely.

All the sadness of life lies in that fact.                          --Milan Kundera

Page 335:

And it’s a life with no shortage of moments to recommend it, a life that picks up speed like a boulder rolling down a hill, easy and natural and comfortable, and yet beyond control somehow; it all happens so fast, you wake a young man and at lunch are middle aged and by dinner you can imagine your death.

Thanks to my good friend Tere for lending me this book.

Emotional Extremes

This has been an emotionally extreme year, with great joys (a university graduation, two weddings, a new grandson) and deep sorrows (loss of sister's partner and having to put a beloved dog "to sleep"). When I was young and extreme emotions were common, I had thought that in old age there would be wisdom, serenity, and emotional calm. Not so! 

An obvious idea occurred to me today that the extreme emotions of youth and age are simply different. When one is young, there are the highs of falling in love/lust and the lows of breaking up, plus the anxiety and pride of education and work achievements with some failures. As a senior, I find the main emotions are a deep love of family members, with great joy over the new ones, and pride and happiness with their accomplishments. The increasingly common emotional lows are grief and sadness at the loss of friends and family. 

I couldn't think of a way to convey this "insight" in a painting, so I tried a haiku, which doesn't quite capture what I am thinking and feeling either.

Youth's extreme emotions
Are lust, achievement, defeat.
Age has love, loss, joy.

Memorable Moments

We have recently been involved in putting on two weddings. After the months of planning, it seemed that the weddings went by in a flash, and without photographs, I would have forgotten a lot that happened. However, certain moments stand out clearly in my memory and at the time they felt both emotional and meaningful. And they were often the totally spontaneous and unexpected moments. I thought it would be nice to blog about a few of them.

My daughter Emily got married in a beautiful, rustic outdoor setting. As her father was walking her down the aisle, her veil got caught in a tree branch and was yanked from her head. I jumped up from my seat and jammed it back on her head. As I straightened the veil, I was overcome with love for her and on impulse I took her face in my hands and kissed her. Then she continued down the aisle, calling out, "Thanks, Mom!" This sweet moment was well documented:

Another favorite memory was the young couple's first dance. Emily's fiance Nick was NOT known for dancing. As a surprise they secretly had their first dance choreographed by the award winning choreographer Kelly Todd. Several days of practice were involved. At the wedding, as the first dance began and Nick smoothly led Emily around the dance floor, I could hear the crowd gasping and saying "No" and "Wow" and "What?" When they went into their choreographed movements, the crowd burst into cheers and hoots. I was busy videotaping it, but a few photos show the fun:

And of course, it was wonderful to see how beautiful and happy Emily and Nick looked just after they were married:

Our son Matt married Christina a couple of months later. Several unplanned moments made wonderful memories for me:

At the rehearsal dinner on a boat, I tried to get the baby to
smile while two photographers captured parents and baby.

During formal family portraits, Ryan spontaneously
joined the Chavez family!

I finally managed to get a photograph of
all the Kee men!

Matt and Christina had a lovely first dance, but a later dance with them and their baby was incredibly cute and sweet:

And of course, it was wonderful to see the newly married couple so happy and beautiful:

This got me thinking about my other daughter's wedding in 2004. Again, only certain moments stand out in memory. One again involved a veil. During formal photographs of the bride, taken on an outside, upper deck overlooking the Pacific Ocean, the wind suddenly picked up and Kelly almost lost her veil. She was laughing her head off while she tried to get it back under control.

Of course, Kelly and John, competitive swing dancers, put on a fabulous first dance:

And they too looked happy and fabulous after marrying:

Reviewing one's happy memories is good for one's mental health!

Conversations

Some people complain that Twitter and texting are making the country inarticulate. Here is a verbal exchange between two neighbors that I overheard this morning:

      "Morning."
       
       "Weather."

       "Nice!"

After Reading Heilbrun

I just finished reading “The Last Gift of Time: Life beyond Sixty” by Carolyn G. Heilbrun. Here are quotes from that work:

I was shocked, almost from the moment I left Columbia, by how little I missed it, how relieved I was not to have to plunge, ever again, into that poisonous atmosphere.

I entered into a period of freedom, and only past sixty learned in what freedom consists: to live without a constant, unnoticed stream of anger and resentment, without the daily contemplation of power always in the hands of the least worthy, the least imaginative, the least generous.

[To find meaning in later life,] ...the undertaking ... requires strong effort and the evidence of growing proficiency.

The only cure for sadness, [T. H.] White said, was to learn something.

...one sometimes feels compelled ... to complain ... but does not do so because all the people one sees are sick of it and will visit even less often if complaints or criticisms are forced upon them....

[May Sarton wrote] “We have to make myths of our lives,” she wrote. “It is the only way to live without despair. ...It is only past the meridian of fifty that one can believe that the universal sentence of death applies to oneself.”

Whatever the satisfying and as yet culturally endorsed adventure after sixty may be, its necessary element is the sense of something essential and vital having been achieved or discovered or learned. [Heilbrun argues that romance and sex are the only culturally sanctioned adventures for women, and that’s awkward after 60.]

The secret, however, of successful--and therefore continuing--association with the young lies in knowing that they are more valuable as suppliers of intelligence than receivers of it.

...leave the future to those who will inhabit it.

Here are some thoughts I had after reading her book:

By 60 or 70 we have developed a personal wisdom -- the sum of our experiences, knowledge, and unique view of the world -- and the frustrating issue is that we cannot use it to help our adult children, who want to learn their own lessons and develop their own wisdom. Our value to them is to be present, to observe, to approve, to support, to listen, to appreciate, to love. (Oh, and maybe most important, to finance.)

I like to think another contribution we older folks can make to the lives of the young is to provide a possible model for how to deal with life, since we obviously cannot give them advice on how to do it. If we can make ourselves happy and if we can handle what life deals us, then maybe that can give the young some ideas of how to do that for themselves, when their time comes.

As Heilbrun noted, many old people ask “What’s the point?” and become despairing. Humans are meaning-making creatures, which explains the power of narrative, and our job is to create the point. Make something up!

The adventure I have found for myself after sixty is painting. It meets Heilbrun’s requirements for effort and evidence of increased proficiency. It banishes sadness, because I am always learning something. I can express my personal wisdom with it. It is fun! And it is culturally acceptable, though Heilbrun seemed to think there were no culturally sanctioned adventures for old women. I consider the freedom Heilbrun discussed, the freedom of not caring any more about what people think of me or about what is socially acceptable, to be another adventure for old women. Seize the day!

Don and Eva

We live in a community property state, and in the middle of the night I was wondering whether my married children understand how the community property laws work. It seems simple: If they inherit something from me, they can consider it theirs and leave it to others as they see fit ONLY if they keep it in a separate account and never mingle any of it with their spouse’s money. Otherwise it becomes community property. And then I remembered a story from my childhood.

Don and Eva were long time friends of my parents, and I believe that my father and Don were boyhood friends before either of them married. I think they were in the army together during World War II. They owned a gas station together before the war, and they had a couple of businesses together afterwards, too.

My little sister and I thought Don and Eva were a funny couple. Don was skinny and quiet, while Eva was plump and lively. Don did not smoke cigarettes, and Eva was a chain smoker. She had that deep, raspy voice of heavy smokers that some people used to think was sexy, and when she laughed she usually ended up coughing a lot. When we were dragged along as children to see Don and Eva, I knew I was going to have a hard time breathing, and I tried to avoid her big hugs that always included clouds of smoke. We went to see her when she was in the hospital with emphysema, and I remember her lying in her hospital bed wheezing and hacking and smoking away. It is hard to recall, in the present day, how pervasive and socially acceptable smoking once was.

Don and Eva never had any children, and they were fond of my sister and me. They always said that they intended to leave everything to us, but they had only one will -- Don’s. It was fairly standard in that it left everything to Eva, and if she predeceased Don, everything went to us. Since Eva was dying of emphysema, they saw no need for any other type of will. They weren’t very old and Don was healthy, so it seemed a safe bet that Eva would predecease Don. 

However, as she lay dying with Don by her side, he suddenly had a heart attack and died. A couple of hours later, Eva died, too. We reacted to this news with a complex set of emotions -- shock, sadness, and a secret thought that it was somewhat romantic that they couldn’t live without each other. Only much later did it become clear that this unexpected order of death had economic consequences. Since Don died first by a couple of hours, Eva inherited everything. Since she had no will, everything went through probate to her closest relatives, her brothers and sisters. We got nothing.

At the time, we were young and thoughtless, and the fact that we inherited nothing did not bother us. Besides, Don was only middle aged, and if he had lived on, he may well have remarried or spent all his money. Only later, as an adult, I began to think that it was rather sad that their expressed wishes had come to naught. Eva did not even like her brothers and sisters, all of whom lived out of state and did not visit her while she was alive. They were quite rude to us, locked us out of Don and Eva’s house, and did not let us take even a little thing to remember them by. They disinvited us to the joint funeral, but that’s another story. At any rate, this sadness for how Don and Eva did not get what they wanted in the end motivated me to learn about estate planning.

What Is Love?

I love my grandchildren.

I love them with full heart.

I adore them.

I think of them frequently.

I could look at their faces all day

And often do.

If one of them needed a kidney,

I would say “Take mine”

Without hesitation

Without even thinking is there an alternative

With gratitude that I could help.

Is this the one true pure love?

Uncomplicated by the cares of parenthood

Uncomplicated by sexual attraction

Uncomplicated by doubt.

They love me too

Just as I am

With gray hair and wrinkles

Even without presents.

2012 Election Advice from Grandma Ju Ju

2012 Election Advice from Grandma Ju Ju

In the past, my kids have asked for guidance on how to vote on the various propositions that get put on the ballot in California. This year, no one has asked. But that has never stopped me! If you know how you are going to vote, or if you just don’t want advice, then please stop reading now. And if you think I’m really wrong about something, let me know!

First of all, government by initiative is a terrible way to govern, especially in our state, where rich people or corporations can put together a piece of self-interested legislation and get it on the ballot for just a few hundred thousand dollars and then spend millions on deceptive advertising to get it passed. Likewise, they can spend millions to defeat “good” propositions.

Second, it’s almost impossible to get reliable facts about the propositions. One side says one thing and the other says the opposite. I have a Ph.D., so I am supposedly of above average intelligence, but I have read and re-read some of these propositions and still cannot understand what they mean. 

So how to decide how to vote? One thing I do is look at who supports which side, and another is to “follow the money” -- see how’s paying for it. For example, with the new “open primary” system, I have a “choice” between two Republicans for assemblyman. Neither the Republican Party nor the Democratic Party have given an endorsement. I find out which candidate the most right wing group supports and then vote for the other one.

Proposition 30 -- I most strongly recommend a Yes vote. Governor Jerry Brown, whom I like and sort of trust, is stymied in trying to work with the legislature to solve the state government’s financial problems. This is largely because the voters a few years back passed a proposition by 51% that changed the law to require a 66%  majority vote to pass any tax increases. Given how divided the country is, it is nearly impossible to get a 66% majority agreement on anything. Frustrated, Jerry decided to ask the voters directly to increase taxes temporarily in order to fund education and public safety. It raises sales tax by one quarter of one percent for four years and slightly raises taxes on people earning over $250,000. Not much to keep our schools open! The people opposed are the usual anti-government, anti-tax groups.

Proposition 31 -- No. Would establish a two year budget cycle (thus delaying the aggravation every other year) and give more power to the governor to cut stuff out. Supporters are the usual anti-tax, anti-waste groups, and the people against are respectable.

Proposition 32 -- Strongly recommend a No vote. This one is really evil and deceptive. It looks like it would reduce the role of special interests in our elections, but in fact it would increase the role, because the only groups really being restrained from donating to political causes are unions. Major funding for this one comes from the Munger family, who also put on a couple other propositions on the ballot. Charlie Munger is VP of Berkshire Hathaway, the 8th largest multinational corporation in the world (it used to be run by Warren Buffet). I don’t know about you, but I have never felt that huge multinational corporations are interested in looking out for my interests or the public’s interests. 

Prop 33 -- No. This one seems to deregulate auto insurance a bit. It was written and funded by the insurance companies, another group of giant corporations who do not seem interested in my well being or that of the public.

Prop 34 -- Strongly recommend a Yes vote. Abolishes the death penalty. Since there is absolutely no evidence that the death penalty deters crime, and since there is evidence that innocent people have been put to death, this one seems a no brainer. Oh, this proposition would also save the state a ton of money!

Prop 35 -- Yes. Increases penalties for human trafficking. And who is FOR human trafficking???? The only groups who wrote against this proposition are sex workers unions and pornographers. Hmmmmmm.

Prop 36 -- Strongly recommend a Yes vote. Revises the three strikes law and reduces draconian sentences for minor crimes on a third count. Would also save the state a ton of money.

Prop 37 -- Yes. Would require labeling of some genetically modified foods. Major opponents are Monsanto and Du Pont, giant multinational chemical corporations. Read the small print on all those TV ads denouncing Proposition 37 as unscientific and confusing and burdensome. There you see Monsanto, who developed crop seeds that would not reproduce, so farmers would have to buy new seed from Monsanto every year. Third world subsistence farmers were really hurt if they bought this seed. Furthermore, they have developed crops that are resistant to Roundup, their best selling herbicide. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think I want to eat vegetables that can ward off Roundup. Many countries in Europe BAN genetically modified food, and most require labeling. The main thing, of course, is that we have no idea what eating genetically modified food will eventually do to the human body. Do we want to be guinea pigs? I’d just like to know and have the choice. This proposition is not a perfect law, but it’s a beginning. We should join the rest of the First World and require labeling of genetically modified food.

Proposition 38 -- Strongly recommend a No vote. Why? This one sounds so good -- temporarily increase taxes to fund education and early childhood programs. BUT, and it’s a big BUT, this one is also funded by a Munger. Why would an owner of Berkshire Hathaway care about this issue? Aha! This is actually an end run about Jerry Brown’s Proposition 30. In the small print it explains that if two propositions conflict (and 30 and 38 do), then the one with the most Yes votes will take effect. 38 increases taxes on incomes over $10,000! It does not increase taxes on incomes over $250,000 as much as Prop 30 does. Of course a fabulously rich person hopes this one gets more yes votes.

Prop 39 -- Yes. Supposedly makes multi-state businesses pay California taxes on business done in the state, which in the past they were able to avoid doing by getting to choose which tax model to use and naturally they’d choose the one that made them pay the least taxes. The usual business and anti-tax groups oppose this one.

Prop 40 -- Yes, though a vote on this is moot, since the court already approved the new re-districting plan, which this proposition asks us to do.