Are You Cowboy Enough?

Towns, like salespeople, must promote themselves and their products in a particular way so as to find buyers or to convince unwitting passersby that they themselves should be buyers lest they live hereafter unfulfilled lives.

Oakdale, like so many products (or towns), has its own brand, and this brand is circulated, inserted, announced, presented and reiterated in so many ways over time - in more lasting and ephemeral ways - and this explains the prevalence of the "Cowboy Capital of the World" image that fuels its sense of self.

A brief reference to an aspect of Oakdale's short history is relevant here. Before being the Cowboy Capital and having to vie for the title with a city from another state, the city carried the moniker "The City of Almonds" because, understandably given that the city was surrounded and practically besieged by acres and acres of immense and orderly orchards (as described here), the town should carry a name that fit itself.

At some point, however, the city appeared to decide to absolve itself of any dedication to its real and main commodity and instead develop a different kind of marketing, self-promotional mechanism that may have fit more into external inclinations towards a stereotypical sense of a 'western town.' Although I need substantiate this suspicion more, it is in response to external desires and a need to improve commerce that drove and continues to drive Oakdale to present itself as fitting within a particular discourse of "the West" that emphasizes its affiliation with the lineage of lone, isolated cow-wrangling rough-and-tumble figures. Sure, there is a cattle industry here as well [more figures on its predominance], but it is worth noting that a sense of what makes a town sell becomes its image and even crowds out any more substantive appreciation for what and how it actually is.

Many places are like this: SF draws on certain communities, symbols and images in order to draw tourists and others, and New York and any modern city tied into global flows of capital desire to participate in consumption and commerce (to some extent); but this desire has, in many places, distorted the key formative and identity-determining aspects of a place into participating in tried and already-dominant hegemonic values that interfere with a different kind of development of self.

In fact, it has been telling itself that it is the Cowboy Capital of the World for so long, it has forgotten its own origins, has become caught up in the spectacle, the signs themselves, and forgets what produces them.

Meanwhile, few really consider the offensive implications of basing a town on any such symbol.

Such is the Image that attempts to make a place of this place without place.

As the Water Runs: Irrigation, Canals, and Ponds

Oakdale could not be without its produce, and the fields on and with which this produce is grown are thirsty beyond comparison, necessitating the formulation of an expansive array of water-supplying, water-catching, water-distributing and water-farming systems. These systems are many and complex. They involve well-thought out plans for utilizing water in the most efficient way possible.

In some cases, canals carry water to all of its necessary destinations, and these canals take many forms. Some are well-dug, intentionally-constructed and relatively permanent concrete structures, sometimes taking a prominent V-shape, and angled to ferry its liquid contents from its point of earth-contact to its resting home in the earth once again. Others are less clearly-defined and meander in amorphous, sometimes-curvilinear shapes on their way to deposit their water in the ground. Even other water systems clandestinely supply their beneficial nutrients via underground water-system or more patent drip water systems. There really are too many to count. But what all of these different amphibious equipments suggest is a shared participation in the reality of water as a key resource for these (and all) parts, in one way or the other.

Nearly all of this water originates in the Sierras, our nearest mountain range, where regular (but decreasing snowpack) annually thaws, furnishing (normally) ample supplies of water for any use.

Unlike many surrounding Central Valley areas, Oakdale sits atop a wealth of full, quenching underground reservoirs, and is happily seated adjacent to a quickly running river, the Stanislaus.

But, like many precious resources, water is heavily sought-after, and irritation district official bodies and their representatives carry much power and influence here (not to mention, high pay). This is understandable given that their decisions affect the locals, those who might eventually consume the produce, Bay area residents (who may drink the water or purchase the produce), not to mention so many others unrecognized or ill-accounted for. Such decisions require much time and thought and the seriousness of the issues has, as as of late, engaged many more sectors of the community in political matters than previously, which is probably, on the whole, a positive matter itself.

As getting together to talk about a shared issue, a problem held in common, is never, in-itself, bad practice.

These features of the local environment speak to the reality that water is as important as the thing which seeks to transport it. Without the proper systems, or people to inhabit and operate them, we might be produce-less, parched and even worse, in a place even more rapidly desertifying.

Business is as Busyness Does

Industry in Oakdale is a patchwork of produce and cattle-based agriculture, supported by a sizable service industry and a number of other stores. Their presence provides reason and commerce for the town, even if much of what is actually raised and grown is trucked and bartered elsewhere. Labor in these industries offer the people that inhabit this place with their identity, not to mention a sense for what defines them as denizens of the Central Valley, the "Heartland" of California so to speak.

Formerly, Hershey's populated the town but has since ceded its factory to more modest owners, while lea
ving its own once-prominent Visitor's Center as evidence of its decline and final escape to the South. Nevertheless, the town hasn't soon forgotten its presence, event for the depressing example the Center left: every year during early summer (and about the time when the Cowboys come out), the town holds an event which is now called "Cowboys and Chocolate," containing within itself both the admission of the decay of the city and its ostensible, aspired-for promise of resilience and overcoming even in light of foreboding economic circumstances.

Opposing the unceasing onslaught of mass-produced fast food are a constellation of home-grown cafes and restaurants that play to an array of tastes. They fit into two main categories: those that play to the parodical and self-effacing Cowboy image and 'Mexican food' joints. Although a more thorough and expansive approach is in order to really justify a claim, Oakdale has often been said to have some high-quality, highly-pleasing Mexican cuisine.

But like so many cities, the spectacle of various highly-routinized, highly-franchised fast food restaurants that mass produce commodity-like food abuts many of the other locally-initiated gastronomic endeavors, leaving in their wake failed business after failed business

And while my own proclivities disincline me from partaking, this place as well entertains a number of meat-centric eateries, focused on aggregating, broiling, baking and serving various cuisines that participate in the spectacle of Oakdale as a 'cow'town.

Divinely Electrified Revelation, Oakdale's Church Signs

Religious institutions are a crucial part of the life of this place. Places of worship are routinely visited by lay and devout members of various faiths, and they serve also as necessary sites of social intercourse and generally relaxed engagement.

Churches of all stripes of Christianity reside here but there are so few that might fit outside of this narrow category.

Given their significance to the overall character of the town, the establishments furnish and encourage many of the creative efforts contained within it. Many musicians find their first notes in pious contexts, with, to a lesser extent, participation of artists and writers.

Even more amusingly is how devout comedians (or just lay people with a penchant for witticisms) find their outlet in electrified Church, simultaneously a way for the Church and the author to display themselves while serving as a hopefully-engaging means for increasing future service attendance and participation.

Each display is unique, and they are regularly updated - nearly weekly - with some of the latest in divinely-inspired insights and pithy knowledge. Some are less self-conscious than others, and with a few, you can really see how they provide parishioners with the opportunity for their own chance at comedic or prophetic stardom.

Sometimes the messages they are quirky. Othertimes they are corny. Occasionally they are confusing. But always, they are a sight to see.

And such is the will of God in this place without a place called Oakdale.

Moving on Forever: The Orchards of Oakdale

Knowing the rural involves first coming to terms with the noteworthy symbols that make up its circulated spectacle. In popular culture, two of these symbols are the orchard and the pasture, but coming to understand what they might signify and how they differ, not to mention what it feels like to be around and describe them shows how limited such portrayals have so far been.

The orchards, pastures and fields that surround Oakdale are a standing testament both to its profound faith as well as its indefatigable working spirit. These plots are to be found in patchworks in every possible direction, on the outskirts and even very nearby town.

Produce and livestock of all kinds inhabit these places, giving them a checkered, quilted appearance from above. Almond, walnuts, grapes, and a variety of other fruits and vegetables sustain this place (and its agri-coffers), while the warmer weather encourages the cultivation of heat-tolerant plants. Numerous cattle ranches can be founded patterned alongside endless rows of budding or aged and matured trees, the likes of which mirror and emulate the endless of mosaics of Escher. But I think these rows - their neat construction and seeming endlessness - are responsible in part for the enduring Christian sentiments that appear to buoy and anchor this place (and are buoyed and anchored by it).

By this, I mean to say that apparently infinite stretches of road, electricity relay towers, pasture and crop formations imply a kind of eternity in presence and aesthetic that cannot help but utter poems of and prayers from those that live on and around the land (or those that witness it themselves). But this is not to establish cause: just to muse on an odd parallel in their prevailing values.

These patches can be viewed easily enough as long one has a car or a bike (even a tractor); just don't expect to get anywhere quickly, as a parked yellow bus or monstrous trailer might occlude your scenic progress.

 Importantly, orchards and pastures exhibit crucial differences aesthetically and functionally. Orchards are orderly, defined, rigorously planned and plotted rows and columns of trees that cover massive expanses of otherwise uninhabited dirt. Pastures, however, are open fields, the kind for cows or horses to graze on: the sort that unfold to provide sublime views of the world beyond.

Every now and again however, there are stark and beautiful marriages of these distinct geographical features of rurality. One example is pictured here, and special scenes like this one uniquely emerge with the early days (or pre-days) of Spring, heralding its arrival and warning all of its impending showers. The green patches that are found lining and dividing trees are soft and sparse but often appear just as ordered as the trees themselves, instigating us to wonder if they are just young trees aspiring to be like their much older brethren.

Originally, in fact, and as dated photos suggest, Oakdale was the Almond Capital of the World, and while such a moniker is nothing to scoff at, city promoters endeavored for more, finally settling on a much more grandiose (and difficult to substantiate) "Cowboy Capital of the World," which it defended in a brief but noteworthy standoff with a Texas town for the title (decided by and over rodeo ticket sales).

Oakdale would be nothing but for Orchards and Pastures, and these features nourish many local families through the production of countless items of produce and the generation of milk; but even more notably, they provide the means by which we are able to show ourselves in regional, national and international markets. The Central Valley's rural productive apparatus sustains a significant portion of the California economy to say nothing of how Oakdale plays a partial but significant role in this commerce, the way in which these features of land are utilized and deployed, aside completely from their aesthetic presentation and potential.

On the Road to Town

Oakdale's streets are as diverse as the different kinds of weeds one might fight bordering their paths.

In town, most are well-paved, cared-for and maintained. Newly laid eggshell white paint glares at drivers as their cars speed by, diverting their attention for just a moment's glance. There are exceptions, though; rundown paths line the town the town, and distinguish areas of blight.

Even in the large, top-heavy vehicles that assertively roam this place, one can feel the grit, the holes, the imperfections. No street is immaculate here, just some better at staving off a final judgment of "broken" than others. Woe goes to more public investment in infrastructure.

Outside of town, roads, like many public utilities, have been left derelict. Some more well-tended-to than others, many of them are crumbling, scattering, and in need of attention. They meander in and around an assortment of farms, pastures and meadows, reminding us both of what they are for and the sheer impossibility of any plans of escape for the denizens of this place.

The exception to this rule is the road that enters town from the north and departs it to the west, to the Golden Gate. This foundational tanned trail gives Oakdale one of its raison d'être so to speak. The road curves and winds as it becomes Oakdale, travels along our slow, stalled main streets and escapes again to the wonder of the rolling yellow hills of rural California. 

Roads and paths that puncture, border, criss-cross, grid and set Oakdale also echo a feeling of infinity that similarly characterizes the Orchards and Pastures (fields) that lie on the town's fringes or (sometimes) very near town. Often, towering electrical relays pair with roads and accompany them on their long, seemingly-endless stretch.

These roads give Oakdale is outline - pencil-marks - from which the rest has been colored and filled in.

A Storming Self

Sometimes we have existential shocks: failures on the part of our environments to provide for us or our own inability to meet the expectations or desires we have for ourselves. These are difficult, challenging and terrifying moments, even if they aren't physically threatening or harmful. But they are nevertheless key and changing, watershed moments in our lives that may throw us off the paths we have previously been on. Weathering them is no easy task, and they may shake the very existential foundations upon which we've been living for as long as we have. But they are not insuperable, and we must draw on our past habits and conventions but deploy them in new and novel ways to ferry us through such bleak, dark waters.

Often, we overcome and persevere (although there are many instances where this may not be the case), but how we do so is important, is key.