There's a Kite Eating Tree in Santa Rosa

From the inland mined-out desert, we moved to the coast again. Our RV Park was next to the Russian River somewhat south of Cloverdale, CA. The funny thing about the internet, at least for us, is that we really don't search for wonderful things until we're near an area, then we happen on awesome unknown places like the Charles M. Schulz Museum and Research Center.

Archivist Sarah answers Debbie's 

question within minutes, showing 

the 1950 strip in which Snoopy 

danced on two legs for the very 

first time.

Research Center? you may scoff. The kindly older lady who took our tickets said many people come simply to study this man's work. She seemed happily content just to be there, lively talking with us for a few minutes about the wide range of visitors who come to learn more about Charlie Brown, Snoopy, and the whole Peanuts gang. 

 It seemed to John that the visitors broke into three distinct groups. We, who grew up spreading the paper on the floor to devour the comics section every day, wore huge nostalgic smiles.  Nothing could bother us in the hours we were there; we were eagerly excited, immersed in our innocent nostalgia, and we saw each other walk with a youthful bounce.

The 40-and-under folks who'd brought their own children wore smiles, too, but you could tell they were not our deep seated smiles. Their memories always had included that little yellow bird. Woodstock, to them, was just a note in their history classes, not a continent-wide, personally defining moment.

 And their kids just whined, “When are we going home? ”
Shuddup, kid, and go google “newspaper.”

Schulz was “Sparky” to everyone who knew him and everyone here praises him. He built an ice skating center there in Santa Rosa. He ate the same breakfast at his same table every day at the same restaurant, The Warm Puppy. His secretary went through the trash every day to take home the crumpled preliminary sketches and iron them flat again. The Museum was honored when she donated those keepsakes.

A replica of his work studio is on the second floor here, including the scratched wall behind the chair from leaning back while thinking. 

It seemed we could wrap this place around ourselves for a long visit, but the rest of the world is out there, too. We'll go back some day perhaps. The exhibits change regularly. Schulz drew nearly 18-thousand strips. One 70-year old docent admitted that he read five every day with his morning coffee –and hopes to live long enough to finish them.

We'll leave you with two points that man made in a soft, wistful tone of voice while touring us around: Charlie Brown never did manage to kick that football; and he never –ever– spoke to the Little Red-Haired Girl.