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March 3, 2010

California Dreaming

To drive through downtown Santa Barbara
is to count the amazing variety of Volvo, Mercedes, Lexus, and BMW SUV's and wonder where the gasoline comes from, as off shore drilling declines. You get the picture -- our top echelons have become quite prissy. The redwood deck is beloved, not the falling coast redwood tree; Kitchen granite counters are de rigueur, not the blasting at the top of the granite mountain; the Prius is a badge of honor, not the chemical plant that makes its batteries; we now like stainless steel frigs, but hate steel's coke, and iron ore, and electricity lines; arugula is tasty, not the canal that brings water 400 miles to irrigate it; I support teacher unions and -studies courses in the public schools, but not with my Ivy-League bound children. -- Works and Days

Posted by Vanderleun at March 3, 2010 11:53 AM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

VDH: Priceless.

Posted by: Ricky Raccoon at March 3, 2010 12:24 PM

Not long ago I had to make several excursions through Santa Monica- Los Angeles' enclave of like minded libtards. I can say, with no small amount of pride, that I made it into, through, and out of Santa Monica without flipping the bird, screaming obscenities out the window of my car, or accidentally on purpose side swiping a Prius. All it took was three xanax, and my wife's threat of imminent physical violence to keep me in check.
Hey- you do what you gotta' do.

JWM

Posted by: jwm at March 3, 2010 1:27 PM

The dreaming occurs because we are so successful. We are so far from the farm that we forget what it takes to grow food (hence PETA). We are so far from the factory that we forget what smelting ore means.

I saw the farm at Greenfield Village; I saw the factory in tours of the Ford Rouge Plant.

And I like to think that I am not an idiot.

Posted by: Mikey NTH at March 4, 2010 5:14 PM

Mikey NTH:
Did that ever spark some memories. I was born in Detroit, and remember the Rouge plant tours well. They concluded with a drive by a professional driver in a brand new Ford around a test track with steep banked turns. And visiting the space-age to come at the Ford Rotunda. I can also remember cub scout tours of steel mills, scary heat, and the giant ingots coming out of McClouth steel still glowing red. And (to be fair) the occasional sulfurous smell of the nearby oil refinery. We used to say, P.U. that stinks! And we went out and played, and had fun just the same.

JWM

Posted by: jwm at March 6, 2010 7:00 AM

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