Sunset over Pacific Beach, La Jolla CA
I spent part of this week on a business trip to the southern end of our great state, training staff down in San Diego. The ocean’s moderating influence on air temperature makes the California coast particularly appealing for inlanders like myself this time of year. So I was surprised to learn, while watching live video feeds of the devastation wrought by Hurricane Harvey, that San Diego was under an “extreme heat advisory.” The temperature? 85°F. What I thought to be pleasant is apparently dangerously hot by San Diego standards. I suppose it’s all a matter of what one is used to.
Meanwhile, back home in Sacramento, we continue to experience day after scorching day of 100° plus temperatures, as one of the hottest summers on record marches on into September. Driving north from San Diego, we stopped for lunch in Santa Clarita before chugging over the Grapevine into the Central Valley. The thermometer in our car displayed an outdoor temperature of 112°F. It felt like a flashback to our three years of living out in the Mojave Desert. Our holiday weekend promises more of the same, with the Saturday temperature forecast to hit 111° here in California’s capital. We hide out in our tiny house and blast the A/C. 150 miles to our south, my octogenarian parents (who rarely turn on the central air in their large home) have been paying $400 per month in electricity bills just to keep the house cool enough to avoid heat stroke.
During the monotonous 1,000 mile plus round trip to and from San Diego, it was hard not to notice the roadside signs and billboards up and down the Central Valley along Interstate 5 and Highway 99. I am a bit too young to remember the whimsical Burma Shave signs of yesteryear, but old enough to recall the goofy South of the Border signs that dot Interstate 95 through North Carolina as one approaches that tourist trap in Dillon, S.C. Anyone remember the upside down sign emblazoned with the legend “Pedro Feex Later?” It sounds more than a bit racist now, but as a child in the 1970s, I didn’t know any better and thought it was hilarious. This from a New York Jewish white boy who had never met a Mexican-American and didn’t know what a tortilla is until the age of 35.
Here in California, the signs planted in the fields along the vast empty expanse of freeway cutting through Fresno, Kings and Kern Counties shy away from cheesy advertising in favor of pleas for water. Yes, water. You have to live here to appreciate the never-ending political and financial battles over obtaining more water for agricultural purposes. Now, I don’t pretend to know a thing about California water politics, but I am aware of the constant shrieking and hand-wringing over the relative merits of building tunnels in the Bay Area and high-speed rail service between San Francisco and Los Angeles as opposed to making greater efforts to satisfy the seemingly insatiable thirst of our farmers. I also hear a lot about diversion of Sierra Nevada snow melt runoff away from the Central Valley to satisfy the water needs of southern California cities. Amidst allegations of the south stealing the north’s water, I am reminded of the nation’s bitter division during the Civil War. Indeed, there are perennial proposals for everything from California’s secession from the Union to dividing our sprawling state into two, four, six or eight states of more manageable size with greater local control. If you don’t believe me, check out hashtag #calexit on Twitter or this recent article from the Sacramento Bee or this one from the Los Angeles Times. In California, land of the ballot proposition, anything (no matter how outrageous) can be put to a vote.
With water being the essence of life, it is difficult for anyone to argue against it. However, the signs along the freeway have a tendency to pander to base instincts at the expense of rational thought. One is led to believe that providing more water to California’s agricultural interests is a “no brainer.” But is it, really? And so, without further ado, I present for your entertainment two of my favorite roadside signs that I have seen in multiple locations with a number of minor variations.
“Is growing food wasting water?” The most recent version of this sign features a photo of a young boy with a puzzled expression scratching his head. Um, well, for starters, define your terms, please. What exactly do you mean by “growing food?” Perhaps you are referring to California’s famous fields of lettuce, onions and tomatoes, our orange groves and almond orchards, our world-renowned vineyards. Or perhaps what you really mean are the vast hay and alfalfa fields that suck up water to feed, not our people, but the animals that power the state’s beef cattle, dairy and poultry industries. This type of “growing food” leaves us with a legacy of methane gas that contributes mightily to global warming (I told you it was hot) and waterways polluted with millions of tons of animal feces. If you should happen to think I’m being overly dramatic, by all means take a ride down I-5 past Coalinga and catch a whiff as you whizz by Harris Ranch. The hubris of that operation in posting billboards advertising its restaurant boggles my mind. How would you like your shit today, sir? Rare, medium or well done?
Is growing food wasting water, you ask? I’m surprised that the state’s agricultural industry has the nerve to bring this up. It sure is wasting water when used to sustain hungry and thirsty livestock just long enough to kill the poor beasts and turn them into hamburgers, steaks and Chicken McNuggets. If raising animals for meat and dairy were banned from the state, we’d have more than enough water to grow the plants needed to feed our own people and export to neighboring states and to the world. But agricultural interests don’t want you to know that. They must think we’re ignorant, stupid or both.
“No water for valley farms = No jobs!” Oh, goodness, you’ve got to love this one. Again, define your terms, please. No jobs doing what?? No jobs picking grapes, strawberries and citrus? Check out this article in today’s paper, suggesting that a significant reduction in the number of undocumented Mexicans crossing into the United States to perform backbreaking labor in the fields at low wages has resulted in increased automation and fewer jobs. This has nothing to do with water.
Then, of course, one must consider the folly of the paradigm that is California’s agriculture industry. The PR people will tell you that we are “the nation’s salad bowl” and that we feed the world. Excuse me, but why? Anyone who thinks about our climate for even a minute would have to at least ask. The climate of California’s Central Valley is Mediterranean, just one tick shy of desert. We are a very dry place. It doesn’t rain at all here for most of the year. Our water supply depends largely on how much snow the state’s northern and eastern mountains get in the wintertime. The phrase “seven years of drought” is bandied about regularly. Yes, we have year-round sunshine and suitable land, but who in their right mind would plan extensive agriculture in a desert climate with little water? All of us need a steady, reliable water supply for our homes and families. I say people before agriculture.
Our state’s agricultural industry is largely dependent on irrigation. That means bringing in water from elsewhere because we don’t have much here naturally. Wouldn’t it make a lot more sense to concentrate our nation’s plant-growing operations in areas that God has blessed with plenty of water instead of in the desert? The Pacific Northwest and New England come to mind. Why deprive the people of our cities of their water supply in order to run the Rain Birds and sprinklers that prop up the state’s agriculture?
When the sign says that no water means no jobs, what it really means is that no water means no agricultural jobs. The state’s big agricultural interests would have us believe that we’ll all be out of work unless we kowtow to their demands to commandeer our scarce water supplies so they can keep making money. This is a lie, pure and simple.
I have to laugh when I hear the wry suggestion that the entire valley be paved over to bring all the call centers here from India and the Philippines. I do get it, though. We have evolved into a post-agricultural, post-industrial economy that focuses on the information industry. Concentrating our state’s economic efforts in that direction instead of wasting them on irrigation not only fits with the realities of climate change but would also create plenty of jobs and bring renewed prosperity to California.
Uncle Guac’s Stupid Sign of the Day
(Hand-written on green construction paper and taped to a telephone pole. I wish I could have taken a photo of it, but I was driving.)
I will buy your house for ca$h! Call Larry.
Oooh, Larry, now aren’t you a stud? Put that dollar bill away, you big spender, you. Actually, I’m not looking for ca$h. I was kind of hoping you would pay me in chicken eggs. Bawk!