Saturday, I walked a precinct in Palo Alto for Josh Becker who is running for the California Assembly. Josh is energetic, intelligent, and intellectual: exactly what a Silicon Valley politician should be.
If Josh is emblematic of Silicon Valley, California, Dale Bumkin probably isn't a typical Georgian. But he sure does fit my imaginary archetypal Georgian politician. I especially like that he tells us that thugs and criminals have kept people from knowing that Alabama has a five billion agriculture business; that he was in the Marines during Vietnam – presumably, as opposed to in Vietnam – and, he carries a Winchester Model 1894 rifle: he wants us to know that he is a good ol' boy who likes his guns, but a conservative that has no use for one of them new-fangled automatic rifles. Dale's ad is going viral, and I want to help pass it along.
All posts by Steve Stern
Labor vs. Material in California freeway signs
It seems to me that California is going backwards in their – our? – new freeway sign program. The new signs use more material and are simpler, using less labor. It seems to me that we should use more labor and less material. Even if if they end up being more expensive. Putting more people to work and saving material are both more desirable than the other way around.
Old sign, requiring some assembly.
New sign, requiring almost no assembly.
We have a houseguest
Michele's sister is going to Europe for a month, living the good life. Michele has agreed to take care of her – her being Michele's sister – cat, Toby, while she – Michele's sister, again – is away. So far, Toby is a charmer, he is very friendly and very cute, in a goofy sort of way.
Yesterday, I left for a couple of hours, leaving him in the house but with the door to the porch open so he could go out and admire the view. When I came home, he had jumped off the porch – more than a six foot jump – and had commandeered our neighbor's old Alfa. But, when I called him, he ran over and followed me back into the house.
He is fascinated by the toilet flushing or faucets running. As soon as he hears them, he come over to investigate.
It is great that he is here for a month and even greater that he will be gone in a month.
pas·to·ral [pas-ter-uhl], Pastoral, American Pastoral
A couple of years ago, Richard Taylor – or, maybe, Tracy, or, probably, both – recommended that I read Philip Roth's American Pastoral. It just seemed slow. The plot sort of fluttered around, like a moth around a light. Yes, there were passages that were like a flash going off in a dark room; illuminating a moment, a scene, that perfectly caught the sixty's disintegration, but it wasn't a moment belonging to my generation – more my parent's generation – and I couldn't warm up to it. Not liking a book recommended by two people whose judgment I respect and I usually agree with – although, I suspect, I am much more low brow in my tastes than they are – is disconcerting. Even more so when the book wins the Pulitzer Prize and is on almost everybody's list of great American novels. Still, as much as I wanted to like it, I didn't.
Eventually, I learned to live with the disappointment.
A couple of weeks ago, Catherine Santos gave me a copy of Nevil Shute's Pastoral. Shute had the common decency to put, across from the front page – PASTORAL, n. A poem which describes the scenery and life of the country. (mus.) a simple melody. As I read Shute's Pastoral, the lights slowly came on.
Both books are describing the scenery and life of their time. Some physical scenery, but more emotional scenery. And the description in both books is much softer and simpler than the actual, horrific events that are taking place. The horrific events are the background to the simple, everyday actions of the protagonists. Like falling in love or being overwhelmed by despair.
Shute's pastoral takes place on a RAF bomber station in England during the early part of World War II. It is a love story between a young pilot and an W.A.A.F officer. It is a soft – I can't find a better word – story of hope in a world of horror. The hope is bright; the horror dim. For example:
She got a letter from him punctually by the first post on Tuesday morning, and read it in the privacy of her room. She answered it on Tuesday afternoon, when she was supposed to be resting for the coming operation, which was Düsseldorf. She spent the night on duty out at the group W/T station. That night twenty two machines left Hartley Magna. Sixteen came back, one landed in Essex, the crew of one bailed out near Guildford, and four failed to return altogether.
Roth's pastoral takes place in New Jersey as the post war generation's world starts to fall apart. It is a world that the hero, Swede Levov, a second generation secular Jew, thought had been made safe by America's prosperity and the orderliness of his life. But the hope of the young lovers has been obliterated and Swede had learned the worst lesson that life can teach – that it makes no
sense. He carefully learned the rules only to find out that The old system that made order doesn't work anymore. All that was left
was his fear and astonishment, but now concealed by nothing.
The books are strangely complimentary, although strangely might not be the right word, because it is hard to believe that
Roth didn't know about Shute's Pastoral when he wrote his American
Pastoral. Together, the two books are terrific.Hell, American Pastoral by itself is terrific.
A roundabout trip to Death Valley and back: back
Sometime during the night, the wind came up. I mean really came up. The next morning, Michele sort of slept in while the wind tore at our bag and erased our view by filling the valley with dust.
We packed – packing being defined as throwing everything in the back of the truck as quickly as possible – skipped coffee, and headed for the nearest coffee shop. Of course, the nearest coffee shop was 30 minutes down the fan, 15 minutes on a paved road, another hour on another dirt road – where we crossed the dry Amargosa River that I had crossed on New Year’s Day 1982 when it was covered with a thin layer of ice – and, finally, another 45 minutes on a paved road to Baker. Ready to break our fast.
After breakfast, we got on the highway from Las Vegas to Barstow that was pretty crowded with cars on heading back to LA. It was a big change from the day before.
Our plan, yesterday, was to go for a hike to Ashford Mine in Death Valley, but the wind put the kibosh on that. We both wanted to go walking somewhere – yesterday, we had walked less than we wanted because of the Golar Wash fiasco – but we really didn’t have any place in mind. The good news was that we had a lot of time in which to talk about it. First on the highway we were on, then on the road to Mojave.
After lots of discussion – lots of discussion because we had lots of time as the road went on and on – we decided to go for a short walk near the Tehachapi Loop and see if we could find a place to walk near the Kern National Wildlife Reserve in the Great Central Valley.
The Tehachapi Loop is on the rail line between Bakersfield in the Great Central Valley and Tehachapi Pass about 3,300 feet higher. The actual loop is the railway making a 360 degree turn and crossing over itself. I used to go by the Loop often on the way to Death Valley and once camped there but I was surprised to see how popular it has become.
We even ran into a couple from Holland.
Neither one of us had been to the Kern National Wildlife Refuge. It was in an area I used to drive through when I went out with a girl from the Great Central Valley but I had not been there since 1961. We figured it would be fun to see a couple of valley towns and check out the Refuge but we did not hold out much hope for the refuge being much of anything. The Valley was great with miles and miles of farms and small towns. The towns were much healthier than we expected with both the downtowns and the parks action packed on a Sunday afternoon.
When we got to the Kern National Wildlife Refuge, we were blown away. OK, bad choice of words, we were blown away trying to get into the Mad Greeks for breakfast hours earlier in the wind – but we were very impressed. It was a great place to end our trip, an oasis teaming with wildlife.
As the sun went down, we headed home. (Double clickable.)