Thursday, January 10, 2008

California Patina

I'm a native Californian. Born and raised in the southern most corner of the contiguous United States. Besides a 5 year stint in the DC Suburbs (which included a lifetime TKOL membership and a closet full of now useless winter coats), I've lived in California all my life. 18 years in Santee, 4 years in Santa Cruz, 1+ years in Los Angeles--and by the way, L.A. is a great fucking city--and now 10+ years within the San Diego city limits. I love California and the west. The weather is great, and the stunning natural beauty of Big Sur, the Eastern Sierra's, Santa Cruz, forests of redwoods, Yosemite, Santa Barbara, and the Mendocino coast is rivaled by few.

California is now on the verge of going bankrupt. This is really not something new. Arnold came in with a budget crisis 6 years ago, and amazingly, the crisis is still around. The housing market is tanking; realistically, we could be out of water in 10 years; the schools rank down near the bottom; and the number of people in prison could populate a moderately sized American city quite easily.

Yes, the California patina is getting rather thick and the future of California looks....well, grim. I've thought about jumping ship. It certainly could be a boon to move to another state with a lower cost of living, cleaner air, and nearly as much sunshine (see: fort Collins, CO). But would this be fair to the state that has nurtured me, fed me, loved me and educated me (see: UCSC)? Would leaving help my ailing mother?

Two years ago, a new research university was born in California--the first major research university in the United States in over 40 years (was UCSC the last one?). UC Merced is the most recent addition to the empire that is the University of California. Smack in the center of California, an hour away from Yosemite Valley and roughly 1.5 hours from Oakland. This new university represents what California probably meant to my maternal grandparents who moved here in the 1950's: possibilities. It represents what California probably meant to my paternal great-great grandparents who moved here in the late 1800s: opportunities. It represents what California means to the Mexican from Chiapas who survives on Pepsi and tortillas and lives in canyon dense with low-lying scrub: hope.

I may have a chance to join the faculty of this new university. A chance to mold with my bare hands, an institution that gave me possibilities, and opportunities, and hope. If the the dawn of promise is still rising in California, then perhaps it is my duty to take it with my bare hands and thrust it to it's apogee.

Sunday, January 06, 2008

Fair Weathered Fan

I'll admit it; I'm fair weathered. Here is what I wrote at halftime during the Chargers-Titans game.





















I swore that if the Chargers lost in the first round of the playoffs this year (for the third time in 4 years), I'd wash my hands of them. So I ate crow--like it was the first time or something.

I guess this is what I wrote last year after the the debacle that was the 14-2 "Martyball" season.

Click Here for 2007 tirade

So I eat crow all the time (tastes like rattlesnake).

Oh yea, I guess I'm out of my 6 month hiatus.