August 20, 2004: A New & Improved San Francisco Call
When I was a kid growing up in New York, my
grandparents gave me a book called “A Child’s Geography of the World.” It
quickly became one of my favorites, and I spent hours reading and
re-reading its somewhat breathless descriptions of far-off countries and
customs.
OK, I was a weird kid. But this fat little volume
introduced me to an exotic place called California,
a land where they have the b-est, the bigg-est, the
fin-est, the high-est, the lovely-est of everything — so they say — the best
oranges, the biggest prunes, the finest grapes, the tallest
trees, the highest mountains, the lovelyest weather —
i.t.w.W. [in the whole World]. No, it’s not Paradise. That’s the ’est,
’est West.
“California,” the account burbled, “was named after
an island in an old fairy-tale and in many ways the real California is a
fairy-tale land.”
I swallowed this description whole, not knowing that
I had fallen for an old, old myth. Eight year olds will believe almost
anything. But so, apparently, will many adults. Even today, in an age of
nearly universal mass communication, Californians who travel beyond the
borders of their state discover that they are regarded as some kind of
strange creature. And the ’est factor still holds, because they are often
seen as representatives of the very best — or baddest, in
every sense of the word — that America can offer.
Balderdash! Those folks have been watching too many
movies.
Nevertheless, California does deserve special
attention. With a gross state product of $1.4 trillion, its economy is the
largest of all 50 states; it’s also the fifth largest in the world. With a
census count of 35.5 million, its population is the largest of all 50
states; it’s also by far the most diverse. And with an area of 156,000
square miles, even though a few other states cover more territory, it is
still larger than many of the world’s independent nations.
But big, by itself, is boring. California has another
characteristic that calls for close observation, like the spotting of a
shark offshore. Things happen here first. Just as weather systems gather
in the Pacific and make their way across the North American continent,
social and political pressure systems often arise on the West Coast and
gradually travel east.
They are often ignored or underestimated. Unlike the
National Weather Service, which maintains offices throughout the country,
followers of human storm fronts tend to cluster on the East Coast. From
that vantage point, the clouds of myth often obscure reality.
The San Francisco Call hopes to pierce that cloud
cover. Even though the state is not the fairy-tale land of my geography
book, some of its residents are in fact exotic. Or unusual. Or at least
different from people elsewhere. Others are very similar. But they too put
their own spin on the world by virtue of the environment in which they
live, far from the eastern epicenter. As the SFCall publishes articles of
national relevance with a decidedly Western point of view, it hopes to
bring a little clarity to the murky images of California that now clutter
the nation’s radar screens.
Here, for your kind attention, is a weekly series of genuine “Letters
from California.” If you find them interesting, I hope you will pass them
on to friends.
Betsey Culp
________________________________________________________________
