Not again

My car was broken into last night. I forgot to put it in the garage. This is the SEVENTH time my car has been trashed and my stuff was stolen. The rock that was used to smash the window is still lying on the back seat.




This time they/he/she took about 10 CDs (which, trust me, I’m sure they would not like) and my son’s portable disk player that I had been using because I only have a tape player. They also broke my one and only cup holder. Total value of the items taken? Maybe a hundred bucks. Cost for me to repair the window and replace the items stolen? Who knows. Definitely more than a hundred bucks.

If I could have met and talked to the thief BEFORE he smashed my window this is what I would have said…"I understand that you are an idiot, desperate, and most likely a drug addict, but instead of messing up my car, can I please just write you a check?"

Last night

I took my friend to The Wine Seller last night for her birthday. She had never been there and she is not from Bako so I was excited to show her one of the cool spots to go. Unfortunately, it was not the same place I had to been before. The décor was different and the wall that used to separate the dining room from the wine bar was gone. The waitress who had served me many times was nowhere to be seen.

The menu was not exactly the same, but very similar. We ordered brie with fruit for an appetizer and the black and blue flat iron steak for dinner. The appetizer arrived shortly but with out any bread or crackers to spread the cheese on. When we requested some from the waitress she seemed confused. A little while later she delivered several pieces of stale pita bread cut in half. I decided to pass on the pita.

Not long after the appetizer, dinner was served. Our waitress was conscientious enough to ask the chef to split the steak and cook half medium rare and half well done. The meal looked nice, but I immediately noticed something was different. The vegetables were small and unimpressive and the salad was all iceberg. The steak was okay, my friend liked hers better than I did. Overall, I was disappointed. Our waitress was prompt and polite, but she made a faux pas that was so egregious it was clear she had no idea what she was doing. After talking up The Wine Seller to my friend and hoping to prove Bakersfield is not a hick town to a skeptical newcomer, I was totally embarrassed.

After dinner we went to Kosmos to see The Filthies. There wasn’t much of a crowd, but once the band started playing, people were into it.


Camera in hand, I went to the front to take a picture of the band, and immediately ran into Noveltown.


I have never met him before but I just knew it was him and he said he thought I was Bake Town because he had seen me at the Crawdaddy shows.

Typical Bakersfield – everybody knows everybody.

Another pic of the Grapevine for W.H.

Does this not look like the same place your grandmother took her picture?

Meat Town

There’s an article in the Business section of the paper today about how so many Bakersfield residents make steak a regular part of their diet. The local Tahoe Joe’s “is the highest grossing of the nine” in California. The article concludes that the reason for all this red meat consumption can be traced back to our roots, saying “many residents trace their lines back to hearty newcomers from Texas, Oklahoma and Arkansas.”

Now I know what to order when I go out to dinner tonight. Yee haw!

That's hot.

Maybe this will slow down the wave of people moving here.

Comments

First all my comments disappeared when I switched to Haloscan and then now all the new comments are gone thanks to a glitch in my template. Sorry!

Hopefully every thing will be fine from now on.

An Okie Tale

My grandparents came to Kern County during The Dust Bowl. My grandmother on my mother’s side was a bona fide Okie. I don’t remember much about her because she died when I was young, but I do remember she liked to drink beer and play poker and she had a one-eyed dog that chewed on carrots. . Her husband, my Papa, is 93 years old, drinks one shot of whiskey with a 7-Up chaser every day and doesn’t need glasses to read. During The Depression he built a small station along the road, sold gas and actually made money. When WWII came he was sent to Wyoming to guard the Nazi prisoners. He said they were nice guys and sometimes he would play cards with them.

My grandparents on my father’s side moved to Bakersfield from Texas so my Pop could work as a roughneck in the oilfields. For a little while he was sent to work in Saudi Arabia. The work was hard and he died young so I never met him. His wife, my Nana worked as a 911 dispatcher until she retired to a mobile home in Plano, Texas. She smoked Chesterfield non-filter cigarettes and drank Coca-Cola out of a bottle all day every day. She had bone spurs on her feet that looked very painful and knitted a million blankets while sitting in the chair she called her “nest.” We drove to Texas every summer to visit and the thing I remember most is the funny sayings she used like “uglier than a mud fence” and “like a duck on a June bug.” She passed away 15 years ago of a brain aneurysm.

My parents met at BHS in the 50’s, dated all through high school and were married shortly after my mom graduated. My brother was born a year later and my sister a couple of years after that. They moved to LA so my dad could go to college and I was born there. My mom almost died delivering me and had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. My dad couldn’t take care of me and my siblings, work and go to school by himself, so I was sent to live with the neighbors across the street. My family still swears that’s why I am so “different.”

My family moved to Bakersfield in 1970 and into a brand new house they could barely afford. For the first few years we didn’t have carpet and my brother and sister would place me on a towel and run down the hallway pulling me behind. When I was three years old we got a pool and my mom would make us stay outside so she could clean the house. When I was four years old my brother accidentally ran over me with his bike. That summer I was attacked by a spider monkey while eating a barbequed hamburger on the patio. The next year my brother stuck a penny toad in my ear and my sister played dead until I cried.

I got even by forcing both of them both to sit on the floor of the car all the way to Texas.

West 86

Amy in NY started this blog MONTHS ago in the hopes of creating a place for us old timers to gather and chat and hopefully learn more about our upcoming 20 year reunion. Unfortunately, the site never really went anywhere because apparently no one had anything to say. Waist High has performed a miracle and brought West 86 back from the dead. Hopefully the word will spread this time.

Thanks W.H.

W.U.D.

It started to rain last night and it's supposed to continue to rain all day. Weird.
What is this? Portland?

Road Trip

Heading south on 99. It's hard to believe there is a mountain right in front of me.



A handful of cows along the highway. What will this look like 10 years from now?



Heading up the grapevine. Oh hey! Now I can see the mountains.



A view of LA from Flo's house.



Professor Flo at work.



Heading home back down the grapvine into the wonderful Bako air.

The Great Smokey Valley

On the front page of the Local section today there are four maps showing the possible scenarios of growth in the San Joaquin Valley over the next 40 years. According to the article, the population in the valley is expected to double. The maps show a cluster of little orange and yellow dots spreading out from centers like Bakersfield and Fresno. It kind of looks like a bad rash.

On the front page of the Business section there’s an article describing how more and more people are buying BIG trucks – the four-door kind. All the people buying houses on what used to be farmland now need a truck to haul their kids and their crap around.

Basically all this means that as more and more people move into the valley and more and more of them drive around in their BIG trucks, Hummers and SUVs the air quality around here is going to become more and more unhealthy.

We might as well just all start smoking.

Mini History Lesson

Back in the days when the Yokut Indians were mashing acorns and weaving baskets, as the Kern River exited the canyon it formed a delta. Some streams flowed north toward Tulare while the remainder followed east toward lake Buena Vista. The Indians called the area Woilu. When the white settlers came they began to build on the land between the river and one of the streams. They called the area Kern Island. When Colonel Baker arrived, he built his home on the corner of 19th and N Street. In order to help people traveling in the valley, the Colonel planted several acres of alpha to feed horses. Baker’s field covered the area of what is now M and P streets. In 1869, according to the book Bakersfield: A Centennial Portrait “One of the Jewett brothers – either Philo or Solomon – suggested the name “Bakersfield,” which had already settled informally on the community.”

In 1873, one year after Baker died, Bakersfield became the first city in Kern County.

Quote

Having lunch with my mother yesterday, she began to talk about when she was pregnant with me. “I was so nauseous I had to take (name of some medication I don’t remember) everyday. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with you.”

Bake Thanks

Waist High was correct (as usual) when she wrote about how “being a blogger is hard work” (2/7/05). Besides hoping the right people will read the blog and worrying that the wrong people might, it’s just hard to think of things to blog about. Some days I am overwhelmed with ideas and other days I can barely manage a blank stare. That’s why we bloggers enjoy and appreciate your input so much. If it weren’t for your comments I would just go back to sitting in my closet talking to myself.

So thanks for your participation and let me know if there are any topics or ideas you would like to see covered.

Peace, B.T.

This Way not That Way

For some reason Bakersfield likes to give the same street two different names. Brundage Lane turns into Stockdale Hwy, which really isn’t a highway at all. Oak Street turns into Wible Road, California Ave changes to New Stine and Coffee Road becomes Gosford Road. Bernard Street turns into 34th Street after crossing Union Ave. The best is Rosedale Hwy (again, not actually a highway.) Rosedale changes to 24th Street for a mile or so, then quickly becomes 23rd Street. After cutting through the heart of downtown Bakersfield, 23rd Street turns into Highway 178. Luckily this is an actual highway.

I thought about all this when I noticed that they’re putting a new stop light in on the corner of 34th and Jewett. I’m not sure why, Jewett isn’t exactly a jumping place, but evidently they need to back up traffic and it seemed like a good place, seeing as it is right next to The Buckhorn, the diveiest dive bar in town. You see, besides changing the name of a street for no apparent reason, Bakersfield also likes to give the same (or a very similar) name to two totally different streets. In order to increase the confusion the streets are usually in completely different parts of town. We have Stine Road and New Stine Road, Olive Street and Olive Drive and Jewett and Jewetta Avenues, just to name a few.

The brilliance of this plan is truly mind-boggling.

Growing Pains

After reading about the killer mold yesterday, I was understandably alarmed when I saw the headline on the front page of today’s paper. “Growth overtakes schools.” Turns out it’s a different type of growth, but equally scary. The “explosive growth in all areas of Bakersfield” is causing overcrowding in the high schools. According to the article, “Frontier High School, not set to open until fall of 2006, will be overcrowded within two years of opening.”

That’s crazy! Where are all of these people coming from? And why if Bakersfield is supposedly so god awful, are they moving here? I understand that housing prices are affordable compared to the rest of the state, but don’t people have to have jobs? Was it not reported recently that there are no jobs? It makes no sense to me.

I have to admit, I don’t like the image that Bakersfield is a hick town, but I am not looking forward to becoming a suburb of L.A. I want my small town back.

Bakotopia contest

How cool is this? Bakotopia is giving away an iPod mini to the person who writes the best text rap. The idea is to write a rhyme about how desperate you are to find a date for Valentines Day and then send the rap as a text message from your cell phone. I love this idea! I got an iPod for my son this past Christmas and now I wish I had one. They are really cool. I encourage you all to send in your raps but I have to warn you, considering how desperate I actually am for a V-day date and the fact that I can rhyme like nobody’s business, I’d say I have this one in the bag.

Good luck and happy rhyming.

Tough Times

It’s tough living in Kern County. You have to be hardy to survive here. A couple of articles in the paper today prove it.

In the local section there’s an article about an apartment complex so moldy the residents are getting sick. One woman even blames the mold for the death of her two-year-old daughter. According to the article, “after finding lumps on her daughter’s head” she took her to the hospital. LUMPS ON HER HEAD? I would freak out if I found lumps on my kid’s head. Eleven doctors were unable to figure out what was causing the lumps, and the little girl's health problems continued. On Feb. 29, 2004 she died. How awful.

I have never heard of anyone having a mold problem in Bakersfield. It’s too hot and too dry. I cannot imagine how a landlord could ignore the fact that the tenants are complaining about mold GROWING ON THE WALLS and coughing their lungs up. The woman and 68 others are suing the owner.

The other article is on the front page and the headline reads, “Rule that stranded girl doesn’t worry school.” Apparently, kids in Tehachapi have to pay to go to school. According to the article, residents in the rural area surrounding the city, “pay $75 each semester for a bus pass.” Unfortunately for one little girl, her pass expired, so the bus driver REFUSED TO TAKE HER HOME. The 11-year-old, not knowing what else to do, began to walk the 30 miles home.

Now there is one person who really can claim she had to walk 30 miles uphill in the snow.

Safe and mostly Sound

I'm home again from my weekend visit with Dr. Flo. It was great to see her as always and nice to get out of town for a couple of days. I love her house, the decor. I guess it helps when the hubby is an artist. They also have a beautiful view of L.A. from the patio.

The Super Gumbo Bowl party last night was fun too. When I told their L.A. friends "I'm from Bakersfield" they seemed amused and several of them mentioned a desire to visit Buck Owens' Crystal Palace. I'm pretty sure that's all they think we do around here.

Today Flo and I did all the things I can't do in Bako, like shop at Nordstroms and have lunch at Whole Foods. The drive home was a breeze - it went by really fast. It doesn't even seem like it takes an hour and a half most of the time. I have a small stack of newspapers to go through to see if there is anything worthy of mention, and a large stack of laundry to go through to see if there is anything worthy of wearing. Regrettably, I have no photos to share. I took a bunch of pictures on the trip, but of course, I left my camera there, so the photo tour will have to come later.

I would take the time to come up with a more interesting post, but I have two days of TiVo to catch up on. I have my priorities you know.

Oh yeah – I forgot to mention... I also broke a plant and spilled coffee on her keyboard, so there’s a good chance this will be the last time I go there. Sigh.

Mumbo Gumbo

I decided to go to Los Angeles this weekend to determine for myself if the people here are more friendly than they are in Bako as that woman claimed in her letter to the paper. From what I have gathered so far, if you drive a very expensive car and appear to have a lot of money, they are indeed friendlier.

All right - I joke. I'm in Los Angeles visiting Flo cuz that's what friends from Bako do. They stay close. I am happy to report that the brilliant Dr. Flo has accepted a postion as Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. She's going to Vegas baby! How cool is that? Sure she'll be farther away, now when I go to visit I'll also get to lose a few hundred bucks at the blackjack table.

At the moment Flo and her handsome husband are preparing to make his family gumbo recipe. They're having a real life LA high society party today and I think they're going to let the embarrassing friend from Bakersfield join them for a few minutes.

I have to promise not to pick my teeth and say y'all. I hope I can do it.