Sooner Or Later

I've written frequently about how Bakersfield seems to desperately want to move to Oklahoma. But I'm beginning to realize I may have misread the situation.

Readers of this blog know what a huge fan I am of the local news. Whether it's a live remote from the monster truck rally or the poultry fair, it's never less than entertaining. So imagine my excitement when I managed to score an interview at one of the local stations.

I don't want to mention the station for fear of shooting myself in the foot, so suffice it to say it's the one with the anchorwoman who looks like a Korean drag queen. I showed up at the nondescript building downtown, near the adult theater, for the interview at the appointed hour. The people were extremely nice and the interview went well. And then came time for the obligatory studio tour.

Years ago I had done work for the ABC and NBC stations in LA. Any visit to the studios always ended with a tour and it always seemed to be such a beehive of frenetic activity.

Here? Not so much.

The stations in LA were "O&O's" - "owned and operated" by the networks themselves. As such, they lacked for nothing when it came to talent or technology. Here in the hinterlands the stations are affiliates. They pay a license fee for the privilege of broadcasting "Dancing with the Stars" and the pretense that Brian Williams is part of "the team". They used to be mom and pop type operations, but over the years they've been gobbled up by companies hoping to form mini-media empires, cobbled together with fourth tier stations scattered across flyover country. And they don't have anywhere near the resources of the networks.

At any rate, we headed off on my tour of the facilities.

Or what there was of them.

I always thought their news set looked so dumpy and sad on TV. In person it was just tragic. More than anything else it reminded me of drama club in high school. There didn't appear to be much action, but then why would there be? There's an hour of local news in the morning and then they cut to the network morning shows. After that, it's infomercials. Watching the local channels, you may not get a sense of what's happening around town, but you'll end up knowing more than you care to about Yoshi Blade Ceramic Knives. Around 3 or 4 the syndicated talk shows kick in and then another hour of local news at 5. The network takes over for the evening and then it a light news wrap-up at 11. The end.

As the tour continued we passed what looked like an abandoned control room. Holes in the walls where monitors once were, banks of control panels that looked like they were being cannibalized for parts.

"This used to be the control room. We don't need it anymore. We used to do all the programming here, but now it's done remotely out of the home office."

"Where's that? I asked.

"Tulsa."

So I was wrong about Bako. It doesn't want to move to Oklahoma, it's becoming Oklahoma. It's nothing but a puppet, run remotely from Tulsa. That would explain the tornado fetish. I always assumed there were so many Sooners here because of the oil industry, but I'm beginning to think it's only the first wave of colonization. Maybe all the knife commercials are really secretly ninja training sessions. Stranger things have happened.

I guess that doesn't count as "breaking news" here, but even if it did it would just be quashed by "the home office".

By the time the rest of California figures it out, it'll be too late.

Shakn'Bako

I read an alarming report earlier this week that the scientists at Cal Tech now believe the San Andreas fault is even more ripe for a major earthquake than previously thought, and they already thought it was overdue. Not only that, but they now predict it would be even bigger than expected, an 8.1, which would make the Northridge quake in '94 seem like hitting a pothole by comparison. I'm thinking about it today because the dogs are acting really strange this morning. More so than normal. I think they know something.

You would think a major quake on the San Andreas would be a major concern here, seeing as how the fault lies just 50 miles south of town. But you'd be wrong.

The faultline is actually closer to Bako than it is to Downtown LA, yet in LA they seem keenly aware of the danger they face. Older buildings have been retrofitted and reinforced. Newer buildings are built on base isolators and other shock absorbers. Everywhere you look there are "in case of earthquake" directions. People stock up on emergency supplies and all the local stations run reports on the coming "Big One".

Here? Not so much.

Living in Bako it's hard to believe you actually still live in California. "Earthquakes you say? Never heard of 'em". There seems to be almost zero concern about the earth massively shifting beneath their feet. A few months ago I was chatting with some women I was working with and the subject turned to emergency earthquake supplies (why I have no idea). The women seemed completely dumbfounded, first they'd ever heard of such a thing. You would have thought I was talking about a hidden pot of gold in the garage. In the year we've lived her I can't recall ever hearing earthquakes mentioned on the local news, and yet every time a storm rolls through they will be quick to remind you that there's an infinitesimal chance, however unlikely, that we might just get a tornado! It hasn't happened in recorded history, but they really seem to want one.

And that's the thing about Bako. You really get the sense that a lot of people here resent the fact that their fair city rests in the Golden State, and not somewhere out in the Bible Belt where it obviously belongs. More than anything else, this place is really nothing more than "West Tulsa". Which probably explains their endless yearning for twisters.

But still, you would think they just might have a passing concern with the possibility of a quake, especially since it wasn't all that long ago (1952) that one almost wiped this place off the map. Or perhaps they might be a tad bit worried about the immense, shoddy dam that looms to the east, the one that even the Army Corps. of Engineers says will probably fail in a major quake, submerging Bako under 6 feet of water. But again, you'd be wrong.

Although perhaps I've misread the situation.

I've noticed that a lot of people here own boats. Maybe they are planning ahead after all.

Where The Wind Comes Sweepin’ Down The Plain

I think a big part of the reason why this place is such an epic failure is the fact it's really nothing more than a faded, third generation copy of Oklahoma.

Call it... "BAKLAHOMA!". With an exclamation point - ask any marketer and they'll tell you an exclamation point adds excitement, and Lord knows this place can use all the help it can get.

There isn't anything inherently wrong with faded, third generation copies. A faded, third generation copy of San Francisco or New York would probably still be pretty interesting. The problem lies with the source material.

I mean, you have the same dust bowl agriculture as far as the eye can see. You have the same rusting oil economy. You have the same Hee Haw culture. You even have the same people - I see half a dozen Oklahoma license plates in just the immediate neighborhood, and during football season the houses are festooned with "OU" and "Sooner" pennants and flags. And yet absolutely none of it seems authentic.

But enough about that.

There's a reason you never see a "Top Ten Things To Do In Bakersfield" list, and that's because there's really only one thing to do here...

LEAVE.

Which is what we plan to do later this afternoon. I've learned not to get too excited about leaving for long weekends because it just makes the re-entry that much harder when you have to return.

There's always the chance this place might get wiped off the map while we're gone. Silly, I know. But if you don't have your dreams, what do you have?