The Chool Bus (ch22)

CHAPTER 22: The Forks head south venturing close to LA via Santa Barbara and Moorpark, then, a taste of the Bakersfield sound at the Merle Haggard Museum.

As a prelude to the gang’s sweep through sunny Southern California (SoCal), Buck Wellstone dialed his all-access music smorgasbord to classic Bakersfield jams…Buck Owens…Merle Haggard…Dwight Yokem…the works. He knew they’d be on this road for a while. After all, California posts higher annual gross domestic product than major powers such as the UK, Japan, and France. There is much to discover and SoCal is no slouch for quality of living, despite stratospheric costs.

For example, Santa Barbara…sometimes referred to as The American Riviera: though evidence of human habitation of the area begins at least 13,000 years ago, it finally joined the Union in the mid-19th Century. During the Gold Rush years and following, the town became a haven for bandits and gamblers…it was a dangerous and lawless place…now a veritable paradise on the West Coast.

The gang didn’t have focus group interviews scheduled in Santa Barbara, but it (Santa Barbara) was on the road to Moorpark, a fairly newish LA-area enclave and home of Moorpark College, known for high rates of degree completion. Moorpark is also known for a unique program, The Teaching Zoo. One can imagine an inevitable mishap where people learning the exotic animal ropes lose control of their prickly critters. In this case, a Siberian tiger escaped a local resident’s confines.

Tuffy the Tiger met with an untimely demise as authorities were not privy to the animal’s history (Tuffy was declawed). Other reports indicate authorities couldn’t get a favorable angle for tranquilizer dart effectiveness, so they opted for deadly force…no more Tuffy…and the incident caused a bit of an uproar as the cat was on the loose for weeks. Escaped tigers not withstanding, Moorpark is said to have the lowest crime rates in Ventura County.

Anyway, the gang HAD to do some exploring in Santa Barbara. An area boasting a climate often described as Mediterranean with a strikingly beautiful view. The hillside community just north of downtown enjoys a sweeping view of the Pacific Ocean and Santa Ynez Mountains. With Mediterranean-style white stucco buildings topped with red-tile roofs reflecting the city’s Spanish colonial heritage. Billie was aware that she was missing most of the spectacle due to keeping her eyes on the road. But Buck was taking note, and when they finally got to stretch their legs and do some exploring provided guidance on where to go.

Movie buff, Professor T recalled his time in a class exploring the history of electronic media. He knew that Santa Barbara housed the world’s largest movie studio during the era of silent film. Flying A Studios and others produced over a thousand films during their tenure in Santa Barbara. While the massive American Film Company lot (which once dominated a full city block) was mostly torn down in the 1940s, a few key pieces remain: The Main Surviving Building…a one-story, Revival–style office located on Mission Street is still standing and meticulously preserved. It was once the actors’ green room, dressing rooms, and lounge, and now operates as the office for an architecture firm. When the Forks got there, they saw the original Flying A logo on the front of the building, the prominent arched windows, and the vintage entry light sconce…Mork Thompson was pleased. And once Professor T’s curiosity was satisfied, the gang trudged up the hill to Belmond El Encanto Dining Room in the Mission Canyon foothills, a gourmet lunch with incredible views.

***

Fed and edified in Santa Barbara’s alternate universe, the Forks made their way back to the Chool Bus and embarked for Moorpark…a couple days for focus group interviews at Moorpark College before pushing on to Bakersfield, a geological engineer’s dream museum right there in the same plot with Merle Haggard and the Bakersfield Sound Museum. Buck Wellstone wallowed in the detailed oilfield exploration and drilling exhibits, and the Hard Rock Cafe for country music fans, not to mention Mr Haggard’s boyhood home, fashioned from a vintage railroad caboose.

The flashy Nudie Suits, the back page stories of Bakersfield sound luminaries, the towering palm trees. It was all a bit dizzying for Buck…and he LOVED it.

Bakersfield is often considered to be the birthplace of the different, down-to-earth sound, sort of a rebellious response to Nashville’s highly produced, slick releases. The Bakersfield scene inspired many country artists, such as Dwight Yoakam and The Strangers. Yoakam, alongside Buck Owens, paid tribute to Owens by covering his 1973 recording of Streets of Bakersfield. The cover reached number one on the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart in 1988.

And Bakersfield’s premier luminary, Merle Haggard, was born and raised in Oildale. In the early 1960s, Haggard completed his first single, Skid Row, on Bakersfield’s Tally label. He went on to sign with Capitol Records a few years later. Most of Haggard’s early songs reflect his time spent in prison, farming, and working blue-collar jobs in Southern California, including Bakersfield. But he was more than just a unique interpreter of those lonesome country songs, he could also do amazing impressions of other country stars of the day. You could say he was the Jimmy Fallon of his era.

NEXT WEEK:
The Forks take a few days detour South to San Diego, then across the border to Ensenada before the next round of focus group interviews in Las Vegas.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

Notes from the Road (pt3)

Ok… i confess. While piecing together the second “HSoB: Notes from the Road” post, there was a nagging itch in the back of my buzz-cut cranium. Something was still missing. What was it? Well… the answer came roaring into awareness as i was bumping around West Colfax in Denver. I was there to celebrate T-Day with my aforementioned Texas comrade from the 2000s (the Bush Years) but also wanted to visit the new Casa Bonita as long as i was there. Anyway… i had some time to kill before my reservation, so i took a little detour, further west on i70 to “Lookout Mountain”, a peak overlooking the Coors brewery in Golden, and the final resting place of “Buffalo Bill”, a famous 19th-century Wild West entertainer whose comings and goings had him in good ol’ Hays America on occasion. 

So… paying homage to Bill, it hit me. When pressed, i declare Kanorado, half Kansas, half Colorado, my home base. And though the first “This Land” post dedicated to Kansas was given due attention, circumstances had me juggling too many priorities and restrictions to give Colorado a fair hearing at the time… more on that, later.

Anyway… let’s give it another go, shall we?

COLORADO…the other half of Rohlfie’s formative experience. As is typical in post-feminist-revolution fractured families, kids spend school months (work) with one parent, and summer months (play) with the other. And so, this was my childhood story. School in Kansas, “God’s Country” as Mother would put it, and summer nature explorations in Colorado, home of my father’s family. These two humans may have been mismatched from the jump, but, we aren’t here to talk about childhood trauma, so let’s just leave it there.

Colorado is a landlocked mountain state with distinct southwest flavor. In fact, the best green chili burritos in the world are served there (fight me). Sharing the Four Corners region with Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah, it is also bordered by Wyoming to the north, Nebraska to the northeast, Kansas to the east, and Oklahoma to the southeast. Colorado is noted for its mountains, forests, high plains, mesas, canyons, plateaus, rivers, and desert lands. It encompasses most of the Southern Rocky Mountains, as well as the northeastern portion of the Colorado Plateau and the western edge of the Great Plains.

The region was originally inhabited by Native Americans and their Paleo-Indian ancestors for at least 13,000 years and possibly much longer. The eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains was a major migration route for early peoples who spread throughout the Americas. More recently, the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush created an influx of pale-faced settlers traveling through Colorado via Santa Fe Trail, which connected established eastern states to Santa Fe and the Camino Real de Tierra Adentro southward. Others made their way overland west via Oregon Trail to the goldfields of California, or the Mormon settlements of the Salt Lake Valley, by way of the North Platte or Sweetwater Rivers, the easiest crossing of the Continental Divide between the Southern and Central Rocky Mountains. 

Alongside humans, wildlife found in the mountains of Colorado include deer, bear, squirrels, marmots, moose, pika, and red fox, though moose are not native to the state and the bear are fairly rare. The foothills include deer, squirrels, cottontail, coyote and mountain lion. The prairies are home to prairie dog, fox, badger, and jackrabbit. I have to admit, i have stories a-plenty for nearly every variation of Colorado’s landscape. Here’s a Grand Junction example. A somewhat gonzo road-trip tale, only slightly embellished, but mostly true (wink).

Within the urban sprawl of Denver, a place i have spent many a season, Littleton, Centennial, Northglen, Westminster, Thornton, Broomfield, Arvada, Aurora, and the Denver Tech Center (i wouldn’t know where to start). As well, i have stories for Colorado Springs, Pueblo, Steamboat Springs, Lyons, Estes Park, Dillon, Frisco, Breckenridge, Glenwood Springs, La Vita, Cuchara, Longmont, Loveland, Aspen, Woody Creek, and Boulder. For example, here’s another gonzo road-trip tale. Destination, Laramie Wyoming, but we started from the Keystone Ski Resort where my traveling companion and i were employed and living at the time. 

Finally, a shock to the system as my foggy impression of the Northern front range was of middle to lower middle-class living standards… mountaineers, if you will. To my surprise, in my attempt at selling a Rough and Ready camper trailer in Fort Collins, i found myself in a veritable paradise of a college town. It was a pleasant surprise, but since Colorado registration/tagging laws are different from those in Kansas, i was not in possession of the proper paperwork to sell, so therefore had to hightail it to Nebraska on the quick step. We sold the trailer there, but the HSoB tour had me pushing North for the summer leaving me in a time crunch. This, combined with the frustrating Fort Collins experience ended up unfairly influencing my mood at the moment of documentation.

So, yeah, Colorado, half of my home base. As i peck this, my sister and brother in law are pulling up steaks from their Georgia home and transplanting themselves back to Colorado. This fills me with gladness as now i have an excuse to spend more time in a place my father and his eventual life companion would call… “God’s Country”. They would not be wrong in saying that, but neither would my mother saying the same about Kansas… i agree with them all… Kanorado is God’s Country, and i’m proud to call it home. 

Now, as my attention has turned full speed to the book project, these blog posts will most likely be restricted to no more than one per month. It’s been a wild year of constant travel and posting, but now it’s, how did Jack Torrance put it… oh yeah… “All work and no play…” Just kidding, we’ll try to strike a balance, and we’ll make sure not to, as Clint Eastwood would put it, “let the old man in”, and hopefully, by the time we head back to Kanorado, we’ll have something to say about the “fibrillating heart of our divided nation” and a manuscript for my shot at the Great American Novel. 

Onward through the fog… Rohlfie