Wednesday, October 8, 2003, Saratoga Springs, NY I’m listening to the “Round Table” on WAMC this morning after, the discussion is somewhat surreal because it’s New Yorkers talking. There’s an air of bemused abstraction about this recall election and the spectre of an action hero being foisted upon their California cousins. The feeling I have is more visceral, more gut-wrenched. We’ve just returned to Saratoga after seven years in California, and now look backwards in sorrow.

Let me try to paint a more accurate picture of California; albeit with the limited knowledge of our seven year residency. This state is almost impossible to categorize due to its size, at last count nearly 36 million – and growing by 600,000 each year - its varied peoples and its dynamic and vibrant economy. Yes, that’s right.  A vibrant economy.  

From my perspective, talk of a “collapsed economy” is Chicken Littlesque to say the least. The nation is in a recession, but California continues to be the bright spot. Housing prices in the state are on a breathtaking, skyward arc that defies both gravity and logic.  The California Association of Realtors, in an AP report, projects that the median price of a single-family home will hit $414,000 in 2004, a 13 percent jump from the projected 2003 median of $366,450. The California Gross Domestic Product (GDP) for the second quarter of 2003 was revised up to 3.1% from an earlier projected 2.4% according to Kei Matsuda, Senior Economist for Union Bank of California. “Retail sales are up and industrial production continues to expand.”

And while Silicon Valley collapsed like the house of cards that it was, high quality jobs are abundant in telecom, defense and biotech, - with some seasonal setbacks. A good friend of ours was laid off as a research biologist at one biotech, and snapped up at nearly double his salary at another right down the road.

So why the unhappiness?  Let’s be clear; there are problems. Big problems. For example in San Diego, where we lived, the housing developments are spreading so quickly and so far afield that the highways – big, multi lane jobs that dwarf our polite NY parkways – can’t keep up with the increased loads, and monstrous daily back-ups are now the norm.  In Los Angles, commuters drive through the dark to the only affordable homes, some 100 miles distant. I had a rule of thumb: If I had business in downtown San Diego – some 20 miles South - I would leave after 10, and set off for my return no later than 2:30. This is standard survival practice for most of the major CA cities.

Energy prices are also a major factor is this debacle. The “Energy Crisis” as it was called was nothing more than deregulated corporate malfeasance; the energy companies toying with the state like a cat with a wounded mouse. And while Gray Davis wasn’t exactly Conan pitted against the energy cartel, he was also playing against a stacked deck, as we’ve now learned – and conveniently forgotten – in the unraveling of Potemkin villages like Enron. The collective anger, however, gets laid on the chief of state, not on the corporate rapists.
 A third, less tangible, yet quite real factor is the sense of place. California is a place of limitless beauty; the coast, the deserts, the Sierras. The weather is most agreeable on earth, and the outdoor lifestyle that it affords is truly luxurious. But it is the land of the second immigration, a place where people move to. Ourselves included. Almost no one is “from” there. People’s roots are shallow in CA, not unlike the ubiquitous palm trees.  

That feeling of disconnect from the land, the community, and the past manifests itself in the exploitive developments, the lack of community, and the growing feeling of isolation – despite the incredible density of habitation. When we left to raise our boys in the smaller, more close-knit community of Saratoga, many friends said “ I’d do the same thing.” When we asked what was keeping them in CA, most said “the weather.”

But was malaise and free-range discontent enough to start this western wildfire? No, not enough to start it, but enough to fuel it. The arsonist was Darrell Issa. Issa made millions selling car alarms to the paranoid owners of luxury vehicles. He tried to buy his way into Congress and, after squandering a chunk of his fortune over two election cycles, finally won a seat. Not content as a freshman Congressman, and not popular enough to ever win in a Gubernatorial free election, he initiated the recall for his own personal reason; to replace the incumbent Governor with himself. His stooges were paid to gather signatures – an embarrassingly low number in such a large state – and presto, the recall was set into motion. What Issa didn’t count on was his old nemesis – his own lack of popularity. He was eclipsed overnight by all manner of political wag, and of course, the hulking shadow of the Terminator. But the important lesson here, like in Florida, is that a very small minority can effect major political change.  

It’s interesting that the entire recall effort, and Arnold’s campaign platform were completely absent of substantive solutions. The entire thing was run in the negative.  “Kick the Bum Out” was the motto, leaving the unanswered question “Who the hell is the new bum?” The amazing thing is that the old – and popularly rejected – Republican machine is behind Arnold (and wisely out of sight). What these dyspeptic voters don’t realize is that they’ve just reelected Pete Wilson’s titanium skeleton wrapped in the Terminator’s rubber face.

So now the disenfranchised have been heard. Is there any good that comes of all this?  Perhaps, yes. A new and formerly uninterested voter base was energized. Jesse Ventura did the same thing for independents, and the major parties can no longer afford to ignore this fact. Perhaps Arnold will become larger than the role his handler’s have written for him. The recall also focused attention on the problems of the state, which is a good barometer for the rest of the country. California is today what many states will become in the future. On issues of immigration and water use alone, it’s the state to watch, and to learn our lessons early.

The radio continues, but I’m only half-listening now. I’m thinking of our friends in California. Arturo, the waiter and gardener, who lives illegally in a small rented room, but dutifully sends his money back home to his wife and children in Mexico. Bruce, the research scientist, who is finding new cures for disease with stem cells. Theresa, who is giving hope to infertile couples by arranging embryo adoptions. What will become of these people? What will their new California look like? Who will hear their voices?