San Francisco

The Chool Bus (ch21)

CHAPTER 21: The Forks interview folks in Redding, Sacramento, and San Francisco before taking some time in Monterey with the Steinbeck vibes on Cannery Row.

The gang enjoyed some pizza and a couple beers with Professor T’s relatives in Redding before getting a good night’s sleep ahead of the next grueling leg of the tour. Sacramento, and San Francisco would challenge Billie with their traffic. She learned a thing or two about urban congestion in Portland and the lessons stuck…they were no longer having to apologize for late arrivals. Of course smoothing things over would be much easier if Professor T could take his diplomatic approach up a notch or two, but it’s all in the rearview as Billie was getting real good at choosing alternate routes offered by Siri’s drunk sister now programmed with Rosanne Barr’s salty voice.

“Are you blind AND deaf?”
Roseanne barked at Billie whenever she missed a turn. 

***

It took a full day to finish at State University in Sacrimento, then it was off to one of the most storied, cosmopolitan cities in the US. The interviews were to take place at the University of California, Berkley, and this was an eye-opener for the flatlanders riding in the Chool Bus…oh yeah. See, weather in the Bay area is famously mild, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by the nation’s many…many unfortunates living out of cars, vans, and motor homes. 

Buck Wellstone could hardly get his jaw off the floor as the Chool Bus past block after block of hovels lining the sidewalks. Vacant lots filled with RVs and tents…small cohorts of unhoused individuals tightly clustered in pungent slapdash micro-communities. It’s a bit much for a Big Sky Texas cowboy to take in.

The mix of folks appearing for the interviews was as diverse as the city itself, and once the final round was complete, the gang was more than happy to be moving on. Not out of any fear or loathing for an overwhelming presence of the nation’s down and out, rather the unsettling juxtaposition of some of the best and brightest cohabitating a mere’s security door from the nation’s doomed, not simply there because Mother Nature’s wrath is less prominent, no…it’s San Francisco…one of the world’s most celebrated cities.

At the end of the day in Berkley, Billie met some of what she considered the most interesting people she had yet to encounter in all her years on the high plains. One was preparing an IPO for his artificial intelligence development company, another impressed Billie with wisdom beyond years, and nearly penniless. She and her rescue dog had been living in one of those tent cities for the past several months. Not sure what to do next, but inclined to hop a cargo freighter to Viet Nam. Clear-eyed about the downsides of life in a communist country, but at the same time, done with the zero-sum, social darwinist hunger games of capitalism. 

“Why Viet Nam?” said Billie. 

“Not one hundred percent sure,” said her new companion. “I’ve always felt we Americans should try to do something…anything to help folks in South East Asia recover from the devastation the American war did to their land. So, i signed up with an international NGO to help the locals plant a billion trees.  

“Trees?” said Billie.

“Yes, even though there’s no way for us to mitigate the human losses, we certainly can help to repair damage to nature’s oxygen-generating forests and urban greenspace. So… we’ll see. Right now looking to get myself and my dog, Buddy, vaccinated for the stay, however long it may end up being.”

Billie smiled, “That sounds like a worthy adventure.”

Billie’s new companion continued: “Proud to be an American, land of liberty within the confines of total freedom and absolute justice.” She went on. “And so, if total freedom ends in anarchy and absolute justice to tyranny, i choose a little of both…liberty. I plan to give way to contrition with mine, and not just for the people of Southeast Asia, but to the land we shredded with our bombs and weaponized herbicides.”

***

Later, on the road to Salinas, Professor T was reacquainting himself with John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row characters and settings as the gang agreed to spend the next day in Monterey soaking in the atmosphere, trying to overlook the touristy vibe and really get emersed in the world created by this great American storyteller.   

For one, Professor T, contemplating the tent enclaves in Berkley’s vacant lots, couldn’t ignore a sense of deja vu. How there must be similar stories in there. On Cannery Row the nation’s doomed found ways to thrive through interconnection and mutual support. Necessity giving folks on the waterfront row and in the Bay Area canvas-roof enclaves license to give in to the better angels of human nature. Prostitutes, drifters, iconoclasts, and rebels forming surrogate families protecting inhabitants from the devastating isolation of the modern world.

***

Presently, Professor T turned his thoughts to the brewing storm waiting for him back home in Kansas. His anger was beginning to temper a bit. He thought about the lessons taken from the pages of Cannery Row. Could he beat back the legal attack with angry defiance? Should he put his back into a fight against the natural flow of the universe, or could he defuse Abagail’s attack with acceptance? Regardless of the outcome, could he just simply let things be? He would find out soon enough as he was summoned to appear in court back home because Abigail’s attorneys had filed a suit to collect damages. 

The Zoom conference outburst had not helped his case at the University. He was written up for “chronic low performance,”  a bureaucratic prelude to being subject to an unfavorable post-tenure review, one step closer to being dismissed. Scheizer & Bok will use this bit of unfortunate news in their case for damages. 

“You have ARRIVED, dummy!” Roseanne Barr’s voice barked as Billie steered the Chool Bus into the Salinas RV park where the gang would spend the night.

NEXT WEEK:
The Forks head south (SoCal) venturing close to LA via Santa Barbara and Moorpark, then, a taste of the Bakersfield sound at the Merle Haggard Museum.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

This Land: SoCal

Okay, folks, let’s dive back into the Golden State. As we discovered last week, California is too vast to tackle in a single post. So, after exploring the northern reaches, it’s time to turn our attention to Southern California.

Now, Ronnie has a bit of experience with the major metropolitan areas of Los Angeles, San Diego, and San Francisco. Not exactly a seasoned pro, but he’s done his fair share of touristing. In San Diego, he joined his brother for a reunion after his naval stint on the USS Blueridge. The entire family made the trek to Sandog for the reunion and a wedding in nearby Bullhead City, Arizona, via Vegas. Talk about a whirlwind!

In Los Angeles and San Francisco, Ronnie and his university choir embarked on a tour, serenading various churches with a repertoire ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime. And now, on this HSoB tour, do you think he’s eager to brave the notorious traffic jams and revisit these urban behemoths? Hell to the no! But in the name of this chronicle, he did venture close to LA via Santa Barbara and Moorpark. Just a few years ago, he also spent a week in the Berkeley area, hopping on the BART to explore every nook and cranny of that stunningly beautiful, yet deeply troubled city.

As you can see, our experience is limited, and California is so vast that we can only offer snapshots, digital snapshots.

In our previous post, we highlighted some of the best that Northern California has to offer. Now, it’s time to balance that with the not-so-great. Let’s start with the reason Texas and Colorado are overrun with Californians: the sky-high cost of living. California boasts some of the highest living expenses in the United States, especially in major cities like Los Angeles and San Francisco. Then there’s the constant threat of natural disasters. Earthquakes, wildfires, and droughts are all part of the package. While locals might shrug off the frequent tremors, wildfires and mudslides can be downright terrifying, depending on where you live. And just like Seattle and Portland, California’s urban centers are plagued by traffic congestion and mind-numbingly long commutes. As a direct result of the high cost of living, housing affordability is a major issue. Home prices in California are among the highest in the nation, making it difficult for many people to own a home. No wonder so many Californians are fleeing to Texas and Colorado.

Enough about the bad and the ugly. Let’s talk about the good stuff. Yosemite National Park is an iconic destination, widely regarded as one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Its towering granite cliffs, cascading waterfalls, and ancient sequoia trees are simply breathtaking. California is also the birthplace of the film industry, producing countless famous actors, directors, and producers. Not to be outdone, Silicon Valley in Northern California is home to many of the world’s most influential technology companies and their visionary founders. And of course, California has a long history of attracting writers, musicians, and artists, who have enriched the state’s cultural landscape.

As we write this, we’re in inland Southern California, in a town called Bakersfield. Country music enthusiasts will recognize the significance of Bakersfield, which became a hub of the country music scene after World War II. It gave birth to legendary figures like Buck Owens and Merle Haggard, and their legacy continues to influence artists like Dwight Yoakam. This is a special place. Now, Ronnie has something to say. He points out that the Bakersfield of Merle Haggard’s heyday is long gone, replaced by a sprawling, big-small town with all the associated challenges and opportunities. We won’t go into specifics, but let’s just say the range is vast, from the ridiculous to the sublime, but with a predominantly working-class vibe and a fair share of fallen souls.

Buck’s Nudie Suit
Bakersfield, FOREVER!
See Rosinante for scale

These are just a few of the many factors that make California a unique and diverse state. It is a land of stunning natural beauty, economic opportunity, and cultural richness, but it also faces challenges.

Be well…
Be safe…
Good luck…
Pay it forward… R.H.

From Nor to SoCal…
The range is royale…
From Santa Barbara…
To Monterey…
From Bakersfield…
To Eureka Beach…
California IS America!

Hot Springs or Busk: Chapter VI (class bamboozle)

America, that grand experiment in democracy and greasy cheeseburgers, has split in two. It’s a nation of Penthouse and Outhouse, caviar dreams and dumpster diving. And in San Francisco, the poster child of this cracked reality, the divide slices cleaner than a Zuckerberg algorithm.

On one side of the looking glass, you have the Tech Titans. Think smooth-faced whiz kids who probably still get carded for rated-R movies, but their bank accounts have more zeroes than the national debt. They cruise around in their self-driving Teslas, sleek as chrome beetles, sipping twenty-dollar green smoothies. Their fortress-like penthouses look out on the city like bored gods on an anthill. At night, they gather at fundraisers you couldn’t buy your way into with a suitcase full of pirate treasure, nibbling on edible gold and discussing the colonization of Mars. It’s enough to make a regular Jane want to scream into her tear-stained pillow.

Then, there’s the other side… the sidewalk crew. These are the folks who exist in the blind spots of the digital aristocracy. Tents sprout like poisonous mushrooms along cracked concrete, faces etched with a lifetime of hard luck, and eyes that mirror the dull sheen of discarded iPhones. They push their worldly belongings in shopping carts, a symphony of rattling wheels and despair that no noise-canceling headphones can drown out. The smell of unwashed bodies and stale urine hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder that while some worry about stock options, others worry about their next meal.

The great irony, one that would have Kurt Vonnegut cackling into his cornflakes, is that these two Americas need each other. The tech overlords, for all their billions, would be lost without the army of delivery drivers, baristas, and dog walkers that keep their designer lives running like clockwork. And let’s not forget those poor souls who clean up the aftermath of their all-night coding binges fueled by energy drinks that could power a small nation.

Meanwhile, the street folks are an endless source of moral hand-wringing for the penthouse set. They fuel charity galas, anguished blog posts, and the occasional guilt-ridden donation tossed to a panhandler like a bone to a stray dog. It’s a sick kind of symbiosis, the way their high-tech kicks need the muddy puddle to prove just how awesome they are.

H. L. Mencken, the old cynic, would have a field day with this mess. We can practically hear him snorting into his whiskey highball: “Democracy is the theory that the common people know what they want, and deserve to get it good and hard.” Ouch.

The thing is, nobody seems to be doing anything about this chasm that grows wider with each passing Uber Eats order. Politicians, as usual, are flapping their mouths like beached fish, some spinning promises about fixing a broken system that’s been cracked since before iPhones were a twinkle in Steve Jobs’ eye, others still blaming the poor for not pulling on their bootstraps hard enough. Both sides, with a few rare exceptions, not even trying to hide the fact that they are bought and paid for in a system of abject corruption. They’re too busy eyeing their campaign donors in those sterile fundraisers to actually do anything that might rock the boat.

So it goes. While the tech wizards dream of space colonies and the sidewalk crew prays for a dry patch of pavement, the rest of us stand somewhere in the middle, bewildered and nauseous from the whiplash. The great American experiment, once a beacon of hope and hotdogs, now resembles something more like a Salvador Dali painting… melting, distorted, and just plain bizarre.