No Peaks

More than anything else, what Bakersfield most resembles is "Twin Peaks". Without the scenic beauty.

The weirdness factor of this town is off the charts. Now, I'm no stranger to weird environments. I've lived in Hollywood and Venice Beach, both no slouch in the weirdness department. But in both those instances the weirdness could be chalked up to youthful rebellion, drugs or dementia. In Bakersfield, the weirdness isn't so much a bug as it is a feature. Case in point: yesterday's trip to the market.

Yesterday I took one of my increasingly rare trips out to the real world. We were out of dog food. Not for us, for the dogs. Although, at the rate things are going, that may soon be a meal for four. At any rate, I needed to take a trip to the supermarket.

The first person you encounter at the grocery store is Cindy, manning the floral department. She's a kindly looking, grandmotherly type. She reminds me of my old first grade teacher, Mrs. Prosser.

Except Mrs. Prosser never dyed her beehive fluorescent magenta.

Which Cindy does.

Not always magenta. Sometimes it's neon green. Or orange. It seems to depend on her mood.

Occasionally I'll pick up some flowers when I'm there to dress up our otherwise dreary existence, and when I do I can't take my eyes off her hair. Yet no one else seems to even notice. Maybe everyone is just used to it. Maybe she's been such a fixture at the store that everyone is just over it. Still, I try to imagine her sitting in church with that hair.

So I made a quick trip of it and just picked up six cans of dog food. And also some rawhides, because they were on sale. As I approached the checkout lines, my stars were aligned... there was no one in line.

I chose the express line, staffed by Tammy.

She seemed a bit lost in thought and as my dog food slowly rolled up to her on the conveyor belt, she stared at it intently and said, to no one in particular...

"All my friends say I drink too much. They say I'm an alcoholic. They're probably right..."

WTF?

How did we get from dog food to AA? It's a good thing I wasn't buying any box wine.

It was then that I realized there's a good reason I never leave the house, and quickly got in my car to leave.

As I was driving home, a car pulled up next to me at the light. It was a high school kid in a Camaro.

And he was smoking a pipe.

Not your father's pipe. He was smoking a long, curving, clay elf pipe.

Like in "Lord of the Rings".

I was next to Teenage Gandalf.

All of that, in just my little 20 minute outside adventure. Imagine what I would see if I actually explored this place. I'm not sure I have the stomach for that.

An Offer I Could Refuse

I think it's safe to say that without the dogs there would be no blog. Most of the Bakersfield weirdness I experience is found on our daily walks.

Case in point, yesterday we were out on our afternoon stroll when a beat up rattletrap pickup truck pulled up alongside us. The passenger window rolled down and behind the wheel was a grizzled old yokel. He smiled a toothless grin and then said...

"I wanna buy your dogs."

Now, our dogs are adorable. Who wouldn't want to buy them? I assumed he was being cute and smiled and politely told him they weren't for sale.

His grin faded and he suddenly turned serious.

"No really... how much ya want for the dogs?"

Now I was creeped out.

I told him again they weren't for sale and turned away, doubling our speed and dragging the dogs along with me.

He finally pulled away, and as he passed I heard him say "Them sure is some good lookin' dogs."

The way he said it made it sound like he wanted to eat them. And if you saw him, you'd realize that, well, it's Bakersfield... not ruling anything out.

It's a shame we didn't encounter him a couple of weeks ago, when I had the opossum. I bet he would've really liked that. I hear it tastes like chicken.

The Truth Is Out There

This week is the annual Perseid meteor shower and supposedly you can see dozens of shooting stars an hour. On the news last night they said that last night was the peak, the best night to view it. So before we went to bed I headed out to the backyard for a smoke and to see if I could see anything.

And I did!

Not a shooting star... a U.F.O.!!!

Or rather, a "U.B.O."... "Unidentified Bako Object". Seriously.

I was kicked back in a lounge chair, staring at the sky, when suddenly I saw a single bright blue light making a beeline east to west. It was traveling faster than any plane I've ever seen, it made not a sound and left no trail. It wasn't on any flight path I was aware of - planes going over Bako travel north to south, hugging the coast.

The most surprising thing about it was how utterly unsurprising it seemed. Bakersfield is home to all kinds of weirdness and freakish anomalies. What's one more? U.F.O.'s? Sure, why not. For all I know, the miles of farmland surrounding this town probably hide dozens of crop circles.

If you think about it, it makes a certain amount of sense. Bakersfield is ringed by all manner of military bases. And it's a straight shot east to Area 51 in Nevada. Which just so happened to be the direction the thing was traveling from. If I was the military and I was testing alien spacecraft, I know I'd choose Bako as my flightpath. Taking off and landing over a bunch of clueless hicks who'd never in a million years question the military. Sounds perfect! And on the off chance one crashed and irradiated the whole town or wiped it off the map, I doubt anyone would notice or care.

"Didn't there used to be a town between Los Angeles and Fresno? Huh? Never mind..."

So I'll keep an eye on the news and see if anyone mentions it. Probably not. These people never seem to look up.

This morning when I got up the air was funky and foul, which we've learned can only mean one thing... must be one of the days they burn the cows.

Coincidence?

I think not.