A couple of observations about death and the streets of Bako.
And no, I'm not talking about Bako-ites Mad Driving Skillz.
The first is... rolling tombstones? Really? Is this just a Bako thing? Or is it a morbid fad sweeping the nation? I'm talking about cars with "In Memoriam" decals on the back windows. They're everywhere here. They're white and they always say "In Memoriam" in an arc over someone's name and their birth and death dates. They're never for anyone old - the oldest person I've seen so far was 25. And sadly, most are for children and infants. It's almost guaranteed to ruin your day - you're driving around, minding your own business, having as pleasant a day as is possible in Bakersfield, and then you come up behind Debbie Downer with a dead infant on her back window.
The dead children are just tragic, no doubt about it. But for the teens and twenty-somethings, I find myself searching the car for clues as to how they died. It's turned into a game. Sometimes it's poignant - the car festooned with Marine stickers and yellow ribbons leads you to believe the person died serving the country. Sometimes it's grisly - the truck covered with X-streme sports stickers paints a gruesome picture of a double back flip gone horribly wrong. And sometimes it's Darwinian - the truck covered with beer labels, Jack Daniels logos and a Hooters bumper sticker is just a matter of thinning the herd.
All the same, it's something I'd rather not have shoved in my face every time I get behind the wheel.
The second observation is just macabre. The blood bank is a big deal here, which it would have to be what with all the unnecessary surgery. It advertises all the time on TV, and is a huge sponsor of charity events.
Good on them.
But here's the thing... if you donate blood, you get a door prize. A lovely parting gift.
You get a license plate frame identifying you as a donor.
And entry into the "club".
Which club?
Well that all depends on how much blood you give. Casual donors become members of the "Platelet Club". More frequent flyers become members of the "One Gallon Club'.
Or "Two Gallon Club".
Or "Five Gallon Club".
I've seen one up as high as "25 Gallon Club", but the car was parked and as far as I know the driver may have been dead of blood loss on the floor mats.
The higher the number, the more unwell the drivers look. One Gallon Club members simply look anemic. Ten Gallon club members look positively cadaverous.
Taken together, it makes even a short trip to the market a rather grim experience.
Then again, why should that be any different than day to day life here.
