An anecdote in Reader’s Digest some years ago described a woman who found herself seated next to Bing Crosby on an airliner. Staring at him, the woman exclaimed, “Why, you’re Bing Crosby!” Bing calmly replied, “Well, everyone has to be somewhere.” Bing was correct of course; but I find myself asking lately why everyone thinks they have to be in California? So when I read a headline regarding Kern County stating “And now for the bad job news” I realize things are not getting better, but might be some better if there were not so many people living here.

What with all the bad news both here in America and throughout the rest of the world I await the predicted major earthquake that will cause a good part of my native state to be shaken into the Pacific Ocean taking out Frisco, L. A., and Dago and wondering just how bad things can get? Ok; that bad. Might have been better had the Lord a hankering to get the business done during the time of Dana’s recounting his adventures in Two Years Before the Mast. My, but that man could write! He makes you feel and taste the sea and the rime around your mouth as you read that classic of American literature.

But way back in the time of Dana’s classic the west coast was not that populated and the loss would not have been the disaster it would become now. The disasters of the 1906 quake, Katrina, the flooding in the Midwest now will pale if what is forecast for the west coast takes place both in the potential loss of life and financial. But for the millions of us sitting here happy as clams, well, maybe only a couple of clams, such a thing might as well be some horrific SciFi disaster tale. But alas Krakatau was real, Tunguska was real, Myanmar, the list goes on of the catastrophic dangers facing us wherever we dwell on this planet. However, with the many millions now in harm’s way the disasters of the present era take on a greater significance in terms of the loss of life.

As Bing so well said, everyone has to be somewhere. But with the burgeoning billions now inhabiting the world the more desirable places to be are coming at an increasing premium. And while I used to live in Oakland for example I wouldn’t want to live in most of the neighborhoods there. I can say the same for many of the most desirable places throughout the west coast in which I have lived at one time or another but are now gang-ridden and graffiti smeared. If a catastrophic earthquake takes out the west coast haters of America will be dancing in the streets as they did on 9/11; but I wonder if Mexico will sue America over the loss of millions of its citizens here illegally?

Like Lawrence of Arabia in the film, I find the great western deserts desirable because they are “clean,” without fences, asphalt, or concrete; just the wide panoramic vistas of the Big Empty’s that I find enchanting and mind expanding. But this has never dulled my senses to the fact that abundant water and greenery are desirable for the mind as well, and most people quite reasonably would prefer Malibu or Tahoe to Death Valley.

But as to everyone having to be somewhere, if threatened by a comet for example and I couldn’t escape I would prefer the end of Richard Crenna and those Indians in the 1978 TV film A Fire in the Sky, just kicking back with a pipe of magic mushroom out in the open desert, watching that comet approach and waiting for the end to come. Now that I think about it, here I am in the Kern River Valley with abundant clean air and water, no traffic congestion, no gangs or drive by shootings, no graffiti and some visitor from one of the congested warrens of L. A. might look about and ask me like Shoeless Joe in Field of Dreams “Am I in heaven?” But now, Kevin Costner wouldn’t want to be in Iowa and The Music Man certainly wouldn’t be getting off the train there. How quickly our circumstances can change from heaven to hell, and even a far less significant earthquake can cause Isabella Dam to break and wipe out the town.

There is enough to worry about these days to satisfy anyone with a bent for gloom and despair, but even if given a normally sunny disposition one can be excused for wondering when the next shoe of disaster will drop here in America? As it is certain items are disappearing from store shelves across the country, and even here in the valley we are experiencing some shortages due to high fuel and food prices. Tomatoes? My, we have every reason to believe the worst of a government that can’t seem to tie its own shoelaces.

My electric bill for last month was $24.16; and that includes the power for my well. No A/C or swamp cooler and living alone with the resident cat does not require the use of much electricity. But I understand the needs of a family with children, and many in such circumstances could not live as simply as I do nor would many wish to. Still, just the high cost of fuel is causing some major readjustments in the lifestyles of millions of Americans, many such things beyond just inconvenience.

Few of us believe any politician is going to offer a cure for what ails America; but what if bread, TP and water to flush toilets become luxuries? Ah, then Americans will be ready for a Messiah to deliver our nation. And few will care whether he is of heaven or hell. Me? I’m now the elderly and somewhat detached observer of events like the price of gas, earthquakes and the floods in the Midwest over which I have no control. But I can’t shake the feeling I’m in somewhat the same position of Richard Crenna and those Indians, even though I haven’t yet seen that comet in the sky. I’ve got the pipe, now all I need is the magic mushrooms and all would be well. As it is, since everyone has to be somewhere I realize the Kern River Valley is a somewhere many would choose if they could and count my blessings accordingly.