Along for the Bride&emdash;

I first met Diana Harris nearly 30 years ago when my late wife, Jane, and I flew down to Southern California to hear her sing at a Venice nightclub called F. Scott’s. I had only recently moved to the capital from L.A., and found out that evening that Harris, an almost-native Sacramentan, had only recently moved to L.A. to get into show business. During the next several years, I heard how she was doing through my oldest pal, Phil Syracopoulos, who occasionally hung out with her. (He’d been the one who’d invited us to fly down to hear her sing.) Flash-forward 20-plus years: Jane was one of the artists featured in a group show at the Solomon Dubnick Gallery. She was telling someone at the opening-night reception that I’d just written a musical (Friday at Five, which premiered at the Sacramento Theatre Company this winter, directed by my daughter, Jessica). A booming voice burst in: Hey, is your husband auditioning singers, or what? It was Harris, natch&emdash;but because our initial meeting two decades earlier had been so brief, it took all of us a few rounds of who’s-on-first to figure out how we knew each other. By now, Harris had been a singer, composer, actress, interior designer and photographer. Shortly thereafter, she became much more: a family friend who made it a point to visit Jane, over the course of her nine-year illness, whenever she was in Sacramento to visit her own family. These days, Harris is still singing and acting but has turned her talents&emdash;well, at least a few of them&emdash;to producing, directing and shooting highly imaginative, charmingly retro wedding videos: deliberately jumpy home movies that look as though they were made 40 years ago with an 8-mm, silent Kodak camera. That’s the allure of them, though Harris uses up-to-date techniques to achieve her effects. She edits and adds music on her computer, and plays with light and color in postproduction. The end result is something very old-fashioned and very postmodern. You can see what I mean, since I clearly don’t, at

Roger: Over and Out&emdash;
Despite an effort or two along the way to upgrade, Roger Dickinson has steadfastly remained a member of the Sacramento County Board of Supervisors since the War Between the States. He recently made news&emdash;twice. First, he urged his fellow supes to join him in calling for an end to the war in Iraq, a decision that possibly doesn’t fall within his purview. (My research staff will be double-checking this if she makes bail.) Then Dickinson announced he wouldn’t be running against Mayor Heather Fargo in the November election, which was the first time many of us heard that his running was even a possibility. A political insider suggested to me that an attempt to draft Dickinson to run for mayor had been brewing and that’s why Dickinson made the announcement. But given the timing of his other announcement, I’m wondering if the attempt to draft him had actually originated with the Selective Service System.

Speed Dahl&emdash;
In January, the main subject of this column was my car accident of the previous October. In February, I wrote about attending a wine-tasting class at the Delta King (in November). Both columns mentioned Candy Dahl, the second one identifying her as my fiance. I’ve heard from a number of you who expressed surprise but also delight at my good fortune (the engagement, not the accident). Now I need to tell you that the information I provided is even further outdated: Candy and I ended our engagement on Jan. 26. By getting married.