January 1, 2006

I don�t know very much about the history of California. I do know there was a gold rush, and before that there were a bunch of Spanish missions built by Father Serra, and before that native Indians were all over the place.

Maybe that�s the problem. It�s a crazy mixture. No two families or groups of people have the same roots or cultures.

California should not be called the �Golden State�. It should be called the �Extreme State.� After all, isn�t it spoken of as �the land of fruits and nuts?�

I didn�t grow up in California. (Neither did just about anyone else, by the way.) I was born and raised (sounds like a barn) in Kentucky. The history I know, is all about Daniel Boone, Abraham Lincoln, Steven Collins Foster, Fess Parker�(Oh no, he was an actor wasn�t he. See, I�ve been in Hollyland too long.)

If you�ve been around me very long, you know that I am perpetually comparing CA and KY. Or CA and anything east of the Continental Divide. As soon as you cross that line, things get weird. No trees. No rivers. Nothing grows except above 5,ooo ft. elevations. Heck, it doesn�t take elevation to grow stuff back east. The highest peak in the Appalachians is about 8,000 +/-. That�s just about where the clean air starts out here. Thin, but clean.

The wild west is, �well, WILD. I mean, I live in the suburbs of the largest city in the U.S. (area-wise) and this year our tract of homes has been invaded by coyotes, bobcats, possums, raccoons, bald eagles, huge white owls, snakes, all kinds of hawks and crows, � not to mention a few rats. Occasionally you hear of a bear coming down to swim in somebody�s pool. Oh yeah, we have pools. Lots of pools. It�s part of the ambiance.

I have a pool. It doesn�t increase your property values one iota. But it does collect lots of soot from the annual brush fires. And when the Santa Ana winds blow down through the canyons and passes, (I call them gullys) the pool collects a whole truckload of leaves and twigs and other unrecognizable debris. Every year, the pool serviceman (another expense) just groans and tells me that I need to cut down my trees, precious few they are.

I understand that California just made the top five list of the states with the worst roads in the nation. You can spot that in a second if you are driving across on I-15 from Las Vegas. The minute you cross the Nevada State Line to the land of fruits and nuts, the car almost bottoms out and you think you have run off the road. (Not that Vegas doesn�t have its own variety of �fruits and nuts�, mind you. But they have great roads.)

California is known the world over, as the place where all the �trends� begin. Now, if you are a �trendy� person, that�s cool. But if you are a Kentucky transplant, you just tend to stay home a lot and not look around.

When we first moved to this valley, we purchased a brand new tract home. Of course, there were no walls (that�s what they have instead of fences, open yards and friendly neighbors, out here.) and no landscaping. So we put in a lovely used brick retaining wall with wrought iron topping and corner lampposts. Then we planted three Liquidambars (the only tree that turns red in the fall, out here)�spreading junipers, and one multi-trunked olive tree. The latter was our concession to living in CA. We lived there seven years and watched it grow into what we termed �Wattses Woods.�

Then we sold the house. The next owner promptly removed ALL the trees; painted the house gunmetal gray; tore out all the used brick/wrought iron fencing and replaced it with matching gray block walls.

We were from Kentucky. They were from California.

There is nothing old in California. Including the people. When they reach retirement age, they go elsewhere. Elsewhere is affordable.

One of the first things I noticed about California is that all the buildings are new. When a building gets outdated, it is torn down and a new one is built in it�s place. This gives a person the impression that California has no history. The evidence has been removed. Everything out here is clean, shiny and new. Or out in the desert. That�s where the junk is. Not everyone is slim, blonde and wears shorts. But it helps. Otherwise you just stay home a lot.

Recently, I have been thinking a lot about California. And I have decided one thing for sure.

The reason that you can travel all over the world and find things labeled, �California Style�, or �California Cuisine�, or �California Kitchens�, or�whatever�is due to one fact. California is not a state.


California is a state-of-mind.

This is in Leona Valley near here. It looks lovely doesn�t it. Well, looks can be deceiving. That little left to right shaded area about where the trees are, is where the San Andreas Fault runs, right down the center of the valley.

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