10.20.2008

Dyspeptic Daughters of the Golden Fried West

I looked into joining the fraternal organization The Native Sons and Daughters of the Golden West, because I'm a 7th generation Californian. I took a peek at the group picture of my local chapter, only to find about 20 overweight, middle-aged, dyspeptic-looking women in voluminous hairdos looking like they should belong to a club called Hometown Buffet and Applebees Enthusiasts of The Golden West. I'm not sure what I was expecting to find-- either something younger and hipper or, on the opposite end of the spectrum, women in prairie dresses and blue bonnets, having freshly escaped from some kind of Mormon sect. I don't need to join--the spirit of the pioneers manifests itself in my restlessness and wanderlust. I hear the El Camino Real bell ringing in my ears! The trains rattle my house at night and I feel I must go! Sometimes my grandpa gets up from the dinner table and inexplicably says, "Last of the frontier" as his parting remark!

Additionally, I just broke my cassette player listening to The Sons of the Pioneers tape. Outdated technology... last of the frontier...

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