A Lexus-Mercedes caravan of privilege disturbs the sylvan stillness along a Northern California back road, motoring under an honor guard of redwoods that have no choice in the matter. In defiance of nature’s odds, every driver is a man.

This can only mean that it is time again for the annual Bohemian Grove encampment, where, for more than a century, thousands of men have shed wives and cares to hike, listen to lectures, drink, discuss current events, celebrate the arts, drink, share frat-boy traditions, enjoy boon companionship no woman could understand, and drink.

A teary-eyed toast, then, to this wooded womb, followed by soulful consideration of one’s connection to greatness while urinating beside a skyscraping redwood. Who knows what titan of industry, what head of government — what Bohemian! — has relieved himself in this very spot?

Herbert Hoover? Henry Kissinger? Art Linkletter?

To quote the sacred script of the grove’s notorious Cremation of Care ceremony, which includes the requisite summer-camp assembly of robed men, a 40-foot concrete owl, and a body burned in effigy (conspiracy theorists note: it is not a real body):

Once again, midsummer sets us free!

But some of the ritual is missing. For most of the last 30 years, protesters by the dozens and hundreds have agitated outside this dark-wooded lair, denouncing it as a networking opportunity for the male elite, where valuable connections are slyly made over gin fizzes and bra-strap adjustments before the next performance in drag.

Here, in 1942, the Manhattan Project was conceived. Here, in 1967, Richard M. Nixon and Ronald Reagan were said to have settled on who would first seek the presidency. And here, in 1981, Caspar Weinberger, then the secretary of defense, gave a “lakeside talk” that seemed to hint strongly of the military buildup to follow.

Some of the world’s wealthiest and most prominent begin arriving today for the annual encampment at the Bohemian Grove, a gathering some describe as a benign men’s club and others as an insidious gathering of power.

The encampment is expected to have 2,000 attendees at any one time, a guest list that has included U.S. presidents and foreign heads of state, politicians, industrial barons, actors, artists and musicians.

As in the past, their identities and a description of the programs are closely guarded by officials of the San Francisco-based Bohemian Club.

Club General Manager Matt Oggero declined to discuss the event, although he did say the grove has hired 600 to 800 local workers, mostly high school and college aged.

“We hire a great bunch of really great young people each year,” Oggero said.

The encampment opens on Friday and will run until Aug. 1. It will include a Cremation of Care ritual, “low jinks” comedic play held on the middle weekend and a “high jinks” serious dramatic play the final weekend.

The most heavily attended weekend will be July 24 and 25.

Grove members also provide entertainment for the annual Monte Rio variety show and fund-raiser, scheduled for July 29. Last year it raised $32,000 for Monte Rio Fire Services Foundation, Monte Rio Elementary School Foundation and St. Catherine of Sienna Catholic Church.

The men-only conclave has been described by some as nothing more than a gathering of rich Elks, while others believe it is far more insidious, with back-room deals being made in the 120 individual camps that are scattered throughout the 2,700-acre redwood forest.

Past encampments have been attended by both Presidents Bush; Presidents Ronald Reagan and Richard Nixon; former cabinet members Colin Powell, George Schultz and Henry Kissinger; and business leaders Stephen David Bechtel, Leonard Firestone and David Rockefeller.

Encampments have also drawn protesters, although for the past few years they have been low-key or non-existent.

Activists now are more distracted by problems looming elsewhere, said Susan Lamont of the Peace and Justice Center of Sonoma County.

“The world works with the affluents and the powerful knowing each other and working together, and that is symbolized at the Bohemian Grove,” Lamont said.

“I am not one who thinks plots are hatched there. It is more the reinforcing of the network. If you want something done, you think of the person you met at the Bohemian Grove.”

Hundreds of private jets will begin landing today at the Charles M. Schulz-Sonoma County Airport, where attendees will be met by limousines and rental cars and whisked to Monte Rio.

“We are starting to get reservations, but I’m not sure how strong it will be,” said Glenn Barrett, general manager of Kaiser Jet Center. He said he can expect 100 to 200 planes during the two weeks, ranging from the smallest corporate jet to the Boeing Business Jet.

They will bring activity to the airport, where the recession has eroded operations. So far this year, flights are down 14 percent for the same period from last year. The airport charges landing fees and gets 11 cents for each gallon of fuel sold.

“With the recession we have seen a fall off in traffic,” said Jon Stout, airport manager. “Seeing an uptick is a good thing.”

Bohemian Grove is a 2,700-acre (1,100 ha) campground located at 20601 Bohemian Avenue, in Monte Rio, California, belonging to a private San Francisco-based men’s art club known as the Bohemian Club. In mid-July each year, Bohemian Grove hosts a three-week encampment of some of the most powerful men in the world who meet in secret. They’ve been meeting once a year since 1872!!! Mainstream media has been covering up for them!

WATCH THE BLACKOUT HERE

http://news.google.com/news/search?aq=f&pz=1&cf=all&ned=us&hl=en&q=bohemian+grove

But much about the conference is speculation, as always, as details are often hard to come by. Allen & Co. and Sun Valley Resort keep the guest list, as well as the schedule of events, a secret. And a special guest usually shows up, such as Tony Blair in 2008—who, at that point, had just finished duties as British prime minister.

http://www.mtexpress.com/index2.php?ID=2005132101

NEW YORK (Reuters) – As Rupert Murdoch, Bob Iger and other media honchos assemble in Sun Valley this week for some fly-fishing or white water rafting, spirits should be brighter than a year ago: stock prices are up by about a third, after all.
That alone provides the currency and freedom to get down to the real business of the media summit, one that boutique investment bank Allen & Co annually hosts in the shadow of the Pioneer Mountains in Idaho. For the past 27 years, the Sun Valley Lodge has been the spot where blockbuster media deals have been hatched.

Even in 2009, when advertising revenues nosedived, Comcast’s co-founder Ralph Roberts had the moxie to talk to General Electric Chief Executive Jeff Immelt about a deal for NBC Universal.

http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2010/07/at-sun-valley-brighter-moods-may-not-mean-big-deals

BOHEMIAN GROVE

Bohemian Grove is a 2,700-acre (1,100 ha) campground located at 20601 Bohemian Avenue, in Monte Rio, California, belonging to a private San Francisco-based men’s art club known as the Bohemian Club. In mid-July each year, Bohemian Grove hosts a three-week encampment of some of the most powerful men in the world who meet in secret. They’ve been meeting once a year since 1872 and mainstream media has been covering up for them!

http://freepressinternational.com/bohemian-grove/

http://freepressinternational.com/2009/06/jimmy-buffett-is-a-member-of-bohemian-grove/

GULF SHORES, Ala. — Tickets will be available beginning at 10 a.m. CST Wednesday for the free concert featuring Jimmy Buffett and friends, there will be a 4-ticket limit, and the concert audience is being capped at 35,000 people, concert organizers announced today.

The tickets will be available through www.CMT.com, Ticketmaster.com and all Ticketmasteroutlets. Tickets will be required for entry to the beach concert featuring not only Jimmy Buffett and the Coral Reefer Band, but Kenny Chesney, Zac Brown,Allen Toussaint, Sonny Landreth, Jesse Winchester and additionalspecial guests.

Unable to make it or not lucky enough to get a ticket? The concert will be aired live and commercial-free beginning at 7 p.m. on CMT. Performances also will be simulcast live on Radio Margaritaville, available on Sirius Satellite Radio and XM Satellite Radio, and streamed live on www.CMT.com.

The concert will be held on the beach in Gulf Shores, where Gulf Shores Parkway (Ala. 59) meets the coast.

“There are always welcome breaks in every storm but the unfortunate reality is that this disaster is not going away for a while — but a few hours of fun, void of the constant reminders of the situation, is a good thing and that is basically what I do,” Buffett said in a news release.

Gov. Bob Riley thanked Buffett and the other artists for coming. “Their music will lift up spirits and help encourage visitors to come here and enjoy our world famous Southern hospitality,” Riley said.

John Hamlin, a senior vice president for music events and talent at CMT, said Gulf Shores was chosen for the concert because it “is at the center of the vast coastline affected by the oil spill, and we hope that people from all across this beautiful stretch of America will come down, support local businesses on the way, and enjoy some great music to elevate an important cause.”

It’s also no secret that Buffett has many ties to the area.

Born Christmas Day 1946 in Pascagoula, Miss., and raised in Mobile, his parents and relatives continued to live on the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay. Buffett’s sister, Lucy, runs LuLu’s at Homeport Marina, a popular eatery and nightspot on the Intracoastal Waterway in Gulf Shores.

Lucy Buffett has been doing broadcast advertisements promoting Gulf Coast tourism in the wake of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill.

The July 1 concert is being produced by the state of Alabama, the city of Gulf Shores, CMT and Live Nation. Local promotional services are being provided by Mobile-based Huka Entertainment.

For anyone who misses the concert broadcasts, CMT will present an encore Friday broadcast at 6 p.m. July 2, 8:30 a.m. Saturday, July 3, 1 p.m. Sunday, July 4; and 10:30 a.m. Monday, July 5. Excerpts and artist interviews will be available atwww.CMT.com, organizers said.

When I decided it’d be funny to spend election night party-hopping the Republican events, I had no idea I’d end up meeting Vanessa Getty, hear Ross Mirkarimi tell me a joke and see a man asked to turn his September 11th conspiracy theory T-shirt inside out. But I’ll never doubt this city again. San Francisco, you are weirder than I ever thought possible.

My very good friends, SFist’s Brock Keeling and NBC Bay Area’s Jackson West decided to join me on my quest to infiltrate a Republican election night party. It seemed like a wacky idea, something fun for our blogs. I threw on pearls, Jackson shaved his beard, Brock wore striped socks. I even tossed my great-grandmother’s mink in my car for good measure.

We were dressing up as Republicans! Isn’t this rich?

Brock, Jackson and I might differ in our lefty politics, but according to any red state rebel, we’re each bound for hell. Everyone would be covering the Democratic events, we figured. Let’s see what happens at Republican parties.

I’d heard a rumor that Republican Congressional Candidate John Dennis would be having a fancy shindig with free food and drinks at the Financial District’s Palio D’Asti. Actually, I’d heard this rumor from Palio’s owner, Chef Dan. And Dan made it clear that we were welcome to swing by and check out the scene. Brock, Jackson and I arrived at 6:30 p.m. and were ushered into the private room in the back.

Indeed, a full bar was flowing and lovely, fancy hors d’oeuvres were passed from uptight white person to uptight white person. It was then that I noticed the “9/11 Explosive Evidence” T-shirt man. His sideburns seemed almost aggressive as he pushed past us towards the asparagus pizza.

The back room of Palio is gorgeous, but it isn’t huge. And the John Dennis folks filled up a little more than half of it. The crowd was certainly older. There were lots of well-dressed ladies and silver haired men, but I was most impressed with the collection of very beautiful, very similar young women. I stood in the middle of an Ann Taylor catalog and hoped my big hair and pearls were helping me blend.

All of a sudden, Ann Taylor Model Number 12 announces to the 30 or so of us gathered, “The candidate is arriving! Let’s all go outside and greet him!”

No one reacted and she continued to plead. They actually wanted us to walk back through the restaurant and out the front door to stand on the sidewalk and applaud as John “Defeat Pelosi” Dennis arrived. I looked at her like she was nuts.

Brock and Jackson shrugged.

“C’mon.” They said. “Let’s do it.”

Seven or eight of us wandered outside. We stood on the freezing sidewalk for 10 minutes as the Ann Taylor gals held a huge John Dennis sign. A man in a cowboy hat called me “ma’am.”

Mr. Dennis appeared to be waiting in his car for God knows what, but his wife and daughter stood around the sidewalk with us. His daughter was adorable, dressed in a little ballerina outfit and holding a wand. She approached the big sign as Ann Taylor Number 8 asked her, “Who’s that?”

“My daddy!”

“And what’s he gonna do?”

“Beat Pelosi!”

Jackson and I stood on one side of the front door as Brock was trapped on the other. And finally, when he decided the time was just right, John Dennis emerged from his Kia and walked towards the restaurant as folks from the campaign snapped photos and captured video. As he came closer and closer to the front door, Brock looked panicked. It was up to him. The candidate was approaching.

And so, at the perfect moment, without missing a beat, a proudly homosexual San Francisco journalist opened the door for the Republican to get into his own party.

I had to pull myself together because cowboy hat was fast upon me. “After you, ma’am. You must be freezin’ out here!”

Returning to the back room, the crowd had grown significantly since we’d been sent outside.

Apparently, someone had come up to Jackson and said, “I’m on to you” before offering a fist-bump. So we were getting a little paranoid. But before we left, I wanted a moment with 9/11 T-shirt guy. We headed over to where he stood gesticulating wildly, when Jackson said, “Whoa. Look at his shirt.”

9/11 t-shirt guy had turned his “Explosive Evidence” t-shirt inside out. And obviously, that’s not the kind of thing you do to mix up your look. No, someone had clearly asked him to give the conspiracy theory a rest. So he stood there with his hands flying all over the place and the tag of his shirt hanging off his back like everything was perfectly normal.

“The thing is,” Jackson leaned over and whispered, “If September 11th was a conspiracy, wouldn’t George Bush be in on it?”

We agreed that was a fair point as we snuck out and headed across town to the Marina. The San Francisco Young Republicans were having a party at The Republic, and Brock was exhilarated. “This is the most exciting night of my life!”

I rolled my eyes. “Brock, you said that when we went to Outback Steakhouse.”

Brock, Jackson and I agreed that we were all running on a bit of adrenaline. You’d think we’d breached the Bohemian Grove, we were so riled up by our adventure. As we made our way to the Marina, we planned what to say if put on the spot. My big idea was to offer, “So, abortions, huh? Can’t wait till those are illegal.”

Jackson called dibs on “Everything’s coming up Orly Taitz!”

And Brock really had nothing to worry about. He could just hold the door.

If you’ve never been to The Republic before, Jackson described it perfectly. “This looks like a Cameron Diaz movie.”

The Marina crowd has never looked more stereotypical than it did at The Republic last night. Frat boys and future ex-wives sat and stood around the bar watching basketball and drinking beer while adjusting pastel polos and hair product. There were lots of high fives and the use of the word, “Bro.”

Behind the bar was a larger room with a massive flat screen featuring Fox News. We awkwardly stood in the back until a young man came over to us. “Are you here for the Republican party?”

We admitted we were.

“Awesome! We’ve reserved all of these tables.” He motioned to the room, filled with folks sitting at tables and staring at the huge television.

I introduced myself, as did he. Turns out, Young Republicans President Ed Sheppard is a pretty laid back guy, certainly more so than the John Dennis crowd. I relaxed a bit and asked him about what’s it’s like being a Republican in San Francisco. Lo and behold, Ed’s a Second Amendment guy. He has four (4) guns, one he plans to use one day for protection and the others for “shooting.”

Firearms aside, Ed was funny. He chatted us up, answered our pushy questions, cracked self-deprecating jokes. I told him about September 11th T-shirt guy. “Every side’s got nuts, Beth.”

Well put, Ed.

The Young Republican party was pretty tame, and we wanted to get across town to Kamala Harris’ party before they ran out of free food. So we said goodbye to Ed and dashed across town to Delancey Street. The Delancey Street Foundation, for those of you are might not know, is “the country’s leading residential self-help organization for substance abusers, ex-convicts, homeless and others who have hit bottom.” And Kamala’s party, held upstairs in some kind of huge serenity lounge, had an open bar.

We had to walk through courtyards, up and down stairs, escorted every step of the way by men in black trench coats. It was all very odd and I couldn’t figure out if trenchcoat was protecting us from the residents or the other way around.

Once inside an actual Democrat’s soiree, we ran into lots of folks we knew. Brock, Jackson and I stood around chatting with the Brians, Matt Haney, Susan Christian, Chris Fadeff and Rebecca Prozan. I sipped my (free) Diet Coke and chatted with the Guardian’s Sarah Phelan as we wondered what the story was with booze being served in rehab. After all, Delancey Street is where Mayor Gavin Newsom sought treatment for alcohol abuse.

“You’ve got to see this.” Sarah motioned me over into another big room where the walls were covered with photos of famed Delancey Street founder Mimi Silbert and dozens of celebrities. Here’s Mimi with Clint Eastwoord, another one with Sharon Stone, a whole Colin Powell collection. And smack dab in the middle was Mimi with Gavin Newsom. Under the photo was a label which read, “Mimi Silbert and San Francisco Mayor Gavin Newsome.”

A framed photo of Gavin hanging on the wall of his very own rehab with his name misspelled is perhaps the greatest piece of artwork I have ever seen in my life.

Glorious art aside, Kamala was taking forever. It was getting late, I had to get my Republican experiences down on paper and word was, she was in the building, just hanging out in a private room somewhere, waiting for the competition to concede.

In the meantime, we watched Gavin Newsom win the Lieutenant Governor primary. I thought the best part of his speech was when he said he was a doer AND a dreamer. He doesn’t just dream, you guys. He does. And he doesn’t just do, he dreams! Honestly, I haven’t stopped saying it. I love the doer/dreamer thing. It’s very West Wing.

Finally, sometime after 11, State Senator Mark Leno gets onstage and begins talking about how wonderful Kamala Harris is. On and on, he goes until admitting he’s “vamping until Kamala’s ready.” At least we had some kind of entertainment before Harris’ big entrance. Which she made, of course, after an eternity. The crowd went nuts, she accepted the nomination and I was thrilled it was finally time to go home. Christ, Brock had already snuck out.

Jackson waited outside while I said my goodbyes. And as I stood getting my coat from Brian Devine, I noticed her. There, not 5 feet away, stood Vanessa Getty with no one to talk to. I just about died. I didn’t know whether to text Brock or curtsey.

“Excuse me?” I said. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”

Guess who is surprisingly normal. I couldn’t believe it either! She’s tall, taller than me and that’s saying something. She was dressed in black, with a fabulous clutch and an easy smile. Vanessa looks dramatically more human in person. She was relaxed and kept touching my shoulder to make her points about what a magical evening this had become. Honestly, I have no idea what she said. All I could think was, “Vanessa Gettyis touching me right now and Brock is missing this.”

And she kept talking! I actually thought to myself, “Jesus lady, I’ve got to get home.”

But seriously, I can’t drive home this point enough: Vanessa Getty is bracingly normal. It was almost disappointing.

I grabbed my things and Brian and Chris began to walk me out, but on our way to the door, we passed Mark Leno. There were lots of hugs and kisses, lots of quickly catching up before attempting to dash off, when Mark asked if we knew any returns on Prep 16. Brian pulled out his phone and reported some numbers.

By about 11 votes, No on 16 was winning.

“Beth!” Mark grabbed my shoulders. “This is huge! This is HUGE! We’ve got to go back to the No on 16 party!”

“What? I can’t go to some hippie party. I have to go home.”

“Oh please.” Mark actually rolled his eyes at me. “I have to drive to Sacramento tonight. You’re coming with me.”

I’d never seen him like this before. Mark was more excited about Prop 16 than his own campaigns. He took my hand and marched us out of Delancey Street. Brian and Jackson, while both exhausted, were up for anything that involved getting in a State Senator’s Prius and the next thing I knew, the four of us were flying across town as the clock ticked past midnight.

The Prop 16 party was at Otis on Maiden Lane, and as the four of us marched down the alley and up to the front door, Brian and I shot each other a look. We left Vanessa Getty for this? People still wearing backbacks sat around refreshing their laptops as Beyond Chron’s Paul Hogarth hugged us hello and Supervisor Ross Mirkarimi whooped with glee.

“This is really fun.” Jackson whispered.

“And bizarre.” I whispered back.

I stood and took a moment.

I’d gone from September 11th T-shirt guy to Brock working as a Republican doorman to Ed and his four guns to Vanessa Getty being normal to Mark’s Prius to Ross Mirkarimi smiling at me and saying, “I know you!”

Then he told a joke. At least I think he did. I’ve spent so long calling Ross Mirkarimi humorless, I actually lost time from shock at his making a funny. It was all too much. I’d been election night partying for over 6 hours. I needed to sleep. After all, I’d been a doer all night. At 1 a.m., it was time to be a dreamer.

Carlsbad resident James Anderson and his family were among about 50 relatives who attended a private memorial service for Art Linkletter on Sunday at the TV personality’s Bel Air home. They quietly shared stories of Linkletter’s life and his trademark humor, glimpsed by the world on his long-running “House Party” and “People Are Funny” shows.

Anderson’s mother, Dawn, of Sedona, Ariz., is one of Art and Lois Linkletter’s two surviving children.

A second private ceremony for the affable entertainer, who died at home May 26 at age 97, will take place soon at one of his favorite spots, Bohemian Grove in Northern California, said Anderson’s wife, Adrianne. “He died in his sleep — which was what he wanted,” she said.

Linkletter’s roots ran deep in San Diego. His adoptive parents moved here when he was 5. He was raised here and graduated in 1934 from San Diego State (then a teachers college), where he met Lois, his wife of 74 years.

Always loyal to his alma mater, Linkletter gave SDSU a collection of photos, film and personal memorabilia, now in the library’s special collections.

One of Linkletter’s final public engagements was a motivational speech at a La Costa Resort and Spa convention a year ago. Then 96 and slowing down, he delivered his talk from a chair, said Adrianne, whose 14-year-old daughter, Sophia Linkletter, has inherited her great-grandfather’s love of show business. Early last year, Linkletter went to see her perform in the children’s chorus of the San Diego Opera’s “Tosca.”

Sophia, who has a talent agent and a manager, is about to start work this summer on an independent feature film, “In Conclusion.” At age 4, she made a guest appearance with her family on Bill Cosby’s “Kids Say the Darndest Things” TV show, modeled after a similar segment on Linkletter’s old “House Party.”

Sophia says her great-grandfather was supportive of her career choice and generous with advice.

“Now I feel I have to carry on the legacy,” she says. She’ll get a chance in July at Kit Carson Park Amphitheater, where she’s performing in “13 the Musical.”

Glittery event

Several attendees of the “All That Glitters” gala at the Museum of Natural History were assigned bodyguards. You might say that they were on exhibit. They were adorned with jewelry to draw attention to the new gem-and-jewelry exhibition.

Before the dinner, 19 women were escorted to the museum “vault” and accessorized with precious jewels lent by Charles Koll and Hearts on Fire jewelers. Attorney Courtney Coyle sparkled in a $350,000, 65-carat diamond necklace, while author Jeanne Jones shone in a 48-karat platinum necklace valued at $248,000. Spa operator Deborah Szekely sported $345,000 in glitter, only to be outshined by gala chairwoman Ellen Zinn with more than $1.3 million in bling as bodyguards, camouflaged in formal attire, hovered. At about the stroke of midnight, the $4 million in jewels went back into the vault, and organizers breathed a sigh of relief.

Sticky fingers?

The colorfully painted wallets offered by street vendors in Ocean Beach grabbed Jim Grant’s attention. Were they…? Yes, they were made of duct tape. When he asked one of the self-described “urban travelers” what inspired the idea, he expected to hear that the peddlers had been smoking something other than cigarettes. Instead, a vendor replied with a grin, “We all want more money to stick with us.” Apparently the idea, or the $2 “sticker” price, caught on. When Grant returned the next day to buy one, they were sold out.

After a one year hiatus, the historic Rancheros Vistadores Ride will take place again this weekend.

Saturday’s ride will be the 80th for the Rancheros. About 500 riders will take part in the week long event that begins with a parade in Solvang and a ceremonial blessing on the field at Mission Santa Ines.

Local historians say the ride reminds many longtime residents of the Valley’s rich history.

“It’s a historical event and we a lot of people that turn out to the Mission to see the riders come in,” said John Crockett of the Santa Ynez Valley Historical Society. “It’s impressive to see 500 riders come into one place.”

The group was founded by John Mitchell, son of a Chicago bank president, Naval Aviation Serviceman in World War I and husband to Lolita Armour of the meat-packing industry. Mitchell was a member of the exclusive Chicago club but also the Bohemian Club.

It was after returning from a two-week Bohemian Grove encampment that he discussed with some friends about forming their own version. This led to the creation of the Rancheros and began with the first full ride in May 1930.

Ranchers until the 1860′s would drive cattle to nearby Missions, where they would meet other driving groups, move to the next Mission, until all the cattle were brought to market.

A collision early this morning in Sonoma County seriously injured a pedestrian who was struck on state Highway 116, a California Highway Patrol officer said.

CHP units responded to a report of a collision involving a pedestrian on Highway 116 at Redwood Drive in Bohemian Grove just before 3 a.m., CHP Officer Robert Haven said.

A vehicle struck a person who was reportedly standing in the roadway, Haven said. The victim was taken to a hospital with major injuries.

Further details were not immediately available, Haven said, and the collision was under investigation.

Bill Mann is a renowned media writer and blogger for, among other publications, Huffingtonpost.com and used to pen for the old SF Examiner and Oakland Tribune.He forwarded me an interesting little story and said this item is 100% true, so here it is, for what its worth…Talk about a confluence of events: Walter Cronkite dies, 40th anniv. of moon landing and Bohemian Grove going on up at Monte Rio.Five years ago, Cronkite was at the festivities in the Grove. A young sound technician from L.A. walks up to him and says, “Mr. Cronkite, is it really true the moon landing was a hoax?” Cronkite looks at the kid like he’s a kook, wheels around and away, not saying a word.

As is the tradition, this year’s Variety Show will feature special guests, Grammy Award winning musicians, hot rock bands, jazz, and special acts that are guaranteed to delight spectators of all ages. A special treat this year will be the first-ever appearance of the Bohemian Club Big Band to start the show rolling.

Walt Disney didn’t have an overwhelming connection to San Francisco, although he and his wife were awarded honorary citizenship and keys to the city in 1958. A bit of wining and feasting with members of the city’s elite Bohemian Club at their exclusive Sonoma County grove in 1936 is also credited in author Bob Thomas’ biography as the inspiration for the snoring scene in the dwarfs’ cottage in “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.”

In the hamlet of Monte Rio, Sophie’s Cellars wine shop is preparing for today’s arrival of the big spenders, the cadre of America’s wealthiest men gathering at the Bohemian Grove to kick off the annual encampment of power politics, hijinks and serious drinking.

“They consume a lot of wine,” said co-owner David Defries. “One day a grove member spent $20,000. It’s not unusual for one member to come in and buy in one day what we have sold in a month.”

Defries said every year there’s a three-week window when business is outrageously prosperous, when bottles of wine, in the $400 to $600 range, sell easily. The priciest wine on the shelves is the Schrader, 2004 CCS Beckstoffer Vineyards, Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon at $580.

He calls this interval “a bit magical” because the shop has unlimited access to practically any wine in Wine Country – in the world, for that matter. Wineries want to get their wines in front of the shop’s well-heeled customers.

“For the last three years we helped grove members with a big-bottle event and we needed 80 magnums,” Defries said. “Wineries opened up their wine libraries and the owners even offered up magnums from their private cellars. The wine sometimes came from winery owners in private cars with a driver. Wine normally comes from a distributor.”