The Great Central Valley Adventure

No trip out of town would be complete without a side visit to somewhere, anywhere, to soak up a little culture.  For my visit to Fresno, I decided that I would pay homage to the great John Steinbeck on my way home.

Still basking in the glow of the successful presentation, I breakfasted (sounds more sophisticated than "had breakfast" but not as medieval as "broke my fast") at my hotel, then checked out, turned on Siri to guide me, and headed out of town. 

After listening to one of the presenters yesterday speak on water usage on the farms of the Central Valley, I was very much aware of all the agriculture as I headed across the valley toward the coast.  I can't tell little farms from multi-billion dollar corporate giants, but I can admire a well-turned field and orderly fruit and nut trees.  I admired them so much that I was reminded of Jack London's Valley of the Moon, my favorite London book (with The Star Rover coming in a respectable second).  In Valley, the lead characters, Billy and Saxon leave their industrial jobs in turn-of-the-century Oakland and head off down California, seeking a better way of life, a life of working the land.  Along the way, they discover Portuguese farmers who arrived in the Salinas Valley without much of anything and yet managed to carve out prosperity through their small holdings.  When I saw all those cultivated acres today, I imagined Billy and Saxon walking along the dirt roads, meeting farmers, discussing agricultural techniques, soaking in the rich fertility of California's land.  They opened themselves up to new adventures, and I wanted to do the same.

But enough of the romance.  Tooling along, I stopped thinking of Billy and Saxon long enough to enjoy the sight of the beautiful San Luis Reservoir--so pretty but without enough water to fill it properly. I also found San Juan Bautista along the way, and decided to visit the mission there.  It seems as though I were not the only one to have this notion--there wasn't a damn parking place in the entire flippin' town.  What was that about?  Was it a special John the Baptist holiday?  I guess I'll never know.  I drove past the overflowing mission, turned around, and headed back for the open road.

The sight of Casa de Fruta on the side of the road set my mouth to watering, so I again pulled off the highway. What began as a little fruit stand in 1908 has grown into quite the enterprise.  My sister advises that fruits and vegetables were for sale, but I never even saw them.  What I saw was all manner of chocolate and nut combinations that called to me for purchase.  And I heeded their call.  With bags of chocolate-covered pecans, chocolate-covered cherries, and carmel corn with almonds and macademia nuts, I added gifts for my girls and a Diet Pepsi for the road.  I then explored around the various shops, all named Casa de--Casa de Sweets, Casa de Wine, Casa de Coffee, and the inspiring Casa de Burrito.  

Enough Casas, and I was back on the road.  Soon I was in Salinas and parking Stella in the cool parking structure next to the National Steinbeck Center. The Center sits at the end of Main Street, Salinas, such a typical Main Street that it again sent me back in time to the early decades of the twentieth century.  The Museum itself is fairly new, pretty state-of-the-art.  I began by watching two little videos, one a bio of Steinbeck that neatly obliterated anything complex or even slightly unsavory in his life, the other a little film about farming in the Salinas Valley.  

Then it was time to begin the exhibit itself.  The designers did a wonderful job, setting the life of Steinbeck within the context of his books.  And I never realized just how many books there were.  He was quite the prolific writer back in the day.  Lots of books I never heard of, including The Moon Has Fallen, In Dubious Battle, Cup of Gold, and more. During my own "Steinbeck period" (like Picasso's "blue period"), I read the standard fare, Of Mice and Men, The Grapes of Wrath, Cannery Row, and my favorite, East of Eden.  But Steinbeck wrote about more than just the Salinas Valley and Monterey.  He served as a war correspondent in WWII and wrote much about the common soldier along with lots of non-fiction.  The Center's exhibit is very hands-on, with lots of things to touch, move, open, etc., very much like the Oakland Museum of California.

I was all Steinbecked out by the time I finished, so I headed out for a walk down Main Street.  There were a couple of movie theaters, several shops, delis, and restaurants.  Best of all was the big antique store.  I browsed around in there for a quite a while, channeling my parents who are enthusiastic antiquers.  I then stopped in to the Monterey Coast Brewing Company for lunch--which including one of the best Pilsners I've ever tasted.

I wish I could have gone on exploring California--like Billy and Saxon had done.  But, alas and alack, time had run out, and I left lovely little Salinas and pointed Stella (my 2008 red Dodge Charger, for those of you who don't know) for home.  But I'm not done.  The Phi Alpha Theta Conference in Chico and the Crystalline Classic Showcase Skating Competition in Santa Rosa are coming up in April--more chances to release my inner adventurer.  I can't wait!!!
 

 

On My Own

Today, I journeyed to beautiful Fresno, California.  The purpose?  To attend a symposium for grad students at Fresno State.  This will be my first academic presentation, the first time I've spoken to an audience of my peers on the results of my own original research.  I've presented my findings before, don't get me wrong.  But those audiences were mainly older Sacramentans, easy to enthrall with the story of my great-aunt Daisy and her unique place in Sacramento history.

This time, my audience will include students, critical, bright, questioning students.  I know my material--I love my material.  Lost Cause themes in the films of the 1930s is surely a subject to warm anyone's heart.  And I know it cold.  Still....

I had a nice drive down here from my little home in the Grove.  Along the way, I remembered the things I learned from the sainted Joe Pitti in my two California history classes with him.  As I went through Stockton, I recalled what I learned about the State Mental Hospital there.  During the last half of the nineteenth century, a disproportionate percentage of the inmates there were Irish or of Irish descent.  Why, you may ask (especially those of you who claim an Irish heritage)?  It seems like the upright non-Irish officials in California found that the Irish penchant for heavy drinking, moroseness, and inveterate whoring made them, in a word, crazy.  So off to the hospital they went, to dry out, to clear up whatever venereal disease they may have acquired, and to generally get their shit together.

Past Stockton, the little town of Lathrop was built as what is known as a "spite town."  The Stockton city fathers, during the hey day of the Central Pacific Railroad, decided to play chicken with the Big Four.  Yes, that's right, they wouldn't let the railroad through their fair burg without a chunk of coin coming their way, too much coin for the tight-fisted RR tycoons.  So, the CP bypassed Stockton and went through their own created town, Lathrop, named for the wife of Leland Stanford, Jane Lathrop Stanford. And then 100+ years later, Stockton went bankrupt.  Somewhere, Collis Huntington is laughing.

Lathrop also made California history as its train station is where David Terry, a nasty-ass, pro-slavery, Senator-killer, met his demise.  For those of you who don't know Terry's story, follow the link for a look at this freak-show of early California.

Bad, bad David Terry

One more note about history struck me as I drove through the fertile San Joaquin Valley.  Before it became a haven for all kinds of tasty crops, it was the center of the very profitable hide-and-tallow industry.  Huge cattle ranches spread across the Valley, raising cows not for the delicious steak and hamburger, but for the leather for shoes and the tallow for candles.  Think about how it smells while driving by Harris Ranch.  How about that times ten down the length of the Valley?  Yeah, my nineteenth-century self would not have been down with that.

So, its about time for dinner, then I've got an evening with Eric Foner planned.  Love me those Civil War historians....

The view from my room--STELLA!

Afterglow

Back in my little room at the Best Western, all snuggled in, feeling nice thanks to the beer I had for dinner.  Time to think back on the day's events....

I arrived at the CSU Fresno campus a little past eight, just pulling in to the parking lot as friends Tim and Steph were getting out of their car. Tim is my "school husband," which I guess makes Steph my "sister-wife."  I was so glad to have them with me today--while Tim has only presented at one other conference, that's more than I've done. And Steph is the grounding influence and cheerleader--and the perfect mate for Tim.

So, the Fresno folk provided some muffins, etc., for a little warm-up, then it was off to the classrooms that served as breakout sessions.  Both Tim and Troy, another classmate from CSUS, were scheduled to present on different panels but both in the first session.  So, I didn't get to see Troy's presentation.  But I saw Tim's and it was fabulous.  Of course it was.  I've gotten to know lots of talented students during my years at CSUS, but Tim tops them all.  His research is intricate and complex, and he brings such attention to detail to his analysis that it makes me just want to cry for my own.  And, to top it off, he's an excellent writer.  So, its no wonder that the only question asked after the presentations by the four members on his panel was directed to him.  While the three others gave interesting talks, Tim was best in show.

After a short break, it was on to another panel of four presenters, this one composed of all students from Fresno State.  While their presentations were very good, there were some of their professors in the room.  These erstwhile educators took the opportunity after the presentations to make pronouncements, ask questions, and give advice.  Ugh.  Not only was this dull as dirt, but it was lunchtime and those fools were keeping me from the chow line.  And you know that's not going to go over well with me.

Lunch was box sandwiches, which was fine.  The keynote speaker, though, was a little out of my league in terms of his topic. He was talking about the use of digital materials by historians, and how he teaches students about such things.  It wasn't about the technical aspect of utilizing digital resources--it was the theory behind it.  Damn, this guy was long on theory.  Tim and Steph, who had only gotten four hours of sleep last night due to last minute work on Tim's presentation, both looked glassy-eyed, and I'm fairly certain my face wore that look that says "Because I don't understand you, I am annoyed by you."

Oh, dear.  Then came the moment of truth.  With Steph, Tim, and Troy in the audience, I took my place on the panel entitled "The Impact of Media in American Culture."  Like the lunchtime keynote speaker, I was also "going digital" (not to be confused with going commando, which I was NOT doing).  I had not printed out a copy of my speech, using my brand-new iPad instead.  Concerned that I would need possible back up (like wearing both a belt and suspenders), I also had a copy on my phone and in my email.  So I was ready, as ready as I'd ever be.

I began my speech, entitled "Perpetuating the Myth: The Myth of the Lost Cause in the Films of the 1930s."  I haven't seen the video of my presentation yet (yes, there is video evidence thanks to Steph), but I felt like I stumbled a bit over my words in some places.  At one point, my newly acquired iPad determined to bring up the screen keyboard for no damn reason, throwing me off kilter for a few seconds, but I recovered and finished.

I wanted to run into the audience and just sit down and enjoy the fact that it was over.  But that's not how these things works.  I had to sit on the panel and listen to the two other presentations.  The gal that came after me was amazing, analyzing Courtney Love, Liz Phair, and the third-wave feminism in their music and performances. The next guy spoke on the role of the press in the early years of the Vietnam War.  Then it was opened to questions.  At first, nobody said anything.  But the moderator had some questions, and I was so happy when he addressed them to me.  You see, I had to cut so much out of my paper to fit a 15-minute presentation, that there was a lot I didn't get to say.  But when he asked me his questions, then another lady asked a question, and then the keynote speaker from lunchtime asked me a question--I got to spout off so much more knowledge.  Then I felt good.  I was speaking off the cuff on a subject I love, and it just doesn't get better than that.

With that, the conference was over.  A quick change of clothes, and it was off to The Dog House, apparently a Fresno hotspot as it was packed. Several beers and some onion rings, and I needed nothing more for my dinner.

In all, this was a very valuable experience.  The conference was small, it was all grad students, and it was a safe envinronment in which to learn how to do this sort of thing.  I know what to expect now, and I'll be able to apply lessons learned here when I present in Chico next month.

For now, its time for Eric Foner and some M&M's.  I'm sorry to say that I didn't have my date with Foner and his Reconstruction last night.  CONFESSION ALERT:  I watched Titanic instead.

Tomorrow I explore the Steinbeck Museum in Salinas, then its homeward bound.

Nighty-night....