There are days I pine for big city living. The excitement, the culture you can only find in a world class city.
You know, like Fresno.
Fresno fancies themselves the "San Francisco of the Central Valley", the urbane center of sophistication. And they're probably right, all things being relative. Not only that, but they have Yosemite right out the back door too.
And they hate Bakersfield.
All I listen to anymore in the car on the radio is public radio. It's broadcast out of Fresno since Bakersfield is too provincial to be able to support one of their own. Besides news from the outside world, care of NPR, and a decent selection of classical music I also get the Fresno calendar of events. Wine tastings and gallery openings. Symphony and theater performances. I can only listen in with envy.
The Bakersfield calendar of events? Funny car races and monster trucks. World wrestling just passed through town, their version of a night at the opera. The county fair's coming up, and with it the lawnmower races.
And we can't forget the Fall poultry show.
What a sorry state of affairs it is when you find yourself thinking a move to Fresno would be a move up in the world.
