Soft Lips Obispo

As the twenty-first century wore on, life in California got stranger and stranger. A good example was the state lottery and what you could win besides money. In the summer of 2035, the prize was this: twelve changes to the official state map, any changes that the winner wished, permanent until future lottery winners made further changes. 

That was the summer that Mr. Patel and Mrs. Katel had the winning ticket. Being of an eccentric bent, they were delighted with the prize and lost almost no time breaking out their Rand McNally, Thomas Guides, and AAA fold-up maps.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this” raved Mr. Patel, small bits of foam forming at the corners of his mouth like a rabid dog on the prowl. He said that to his neighbors and to the local news channel. Sometimes he said it in his sleep. Mrs. Katel’s response was somewhat more contained, although inwardly the gears of her mind were fast at work at this unprecedented opportunity to make geographic name changes.

The Patel-Katels set their minds to the task and each came up with a list of six proposed changes to the map of California.

Mrs. Katel’s list:

1. California becomes Caliphoneya (spoken with a deep southern accent).
2. Barstow becomes Barstool.
3. Santa Cruz becomes Santa Cruzcontrol.
4. San Bernardino becomes San Berniesanders.
5. Carpinteria becomes The Carpenters.
6. Ojai becomes Oh-hi-there.

Mr. Patel’s list:

1. San Luis Obispo becomes Soft Lips Obispo.
2. Bakersfield becomes Baker’s Dozen.
3. Solvang becomes Solvent.
4. Truckee becomes Truckstop.
5. Route 14 becomes Route 14.5.
6. Ojai becomes Ohio. 

They hadn’t anticipated that they would pick the same city. In a state the size of California, the largest state in the union by population, that seemed unlikely. They would have to choose one of the two names, then add a twelfth change.

For the twelfth change, they agreed to turn Soledad into Soledad O’Brien. But on the subject of Ojai, they could not agree.

“What do you mean turning Ojai into ‘Oh-hi-there’?” shouted Mr. Patel. “That’s just plain silly. Clearly the town is calling out to be renamed ‘Ohio’, giving it the solid Midwestern backbone it always secretly craved!”

To which Mrs. Katel responded, “Solid Midwestern backbone? The town craves no such thing! You clearly don’t know Ojai. The people there are way more likely to go for ‘Oh-hi-there’. They will embrace the humor, the innovation.”

“Innovation?” said Mr. Patel. “You call that innovation? Maybe a ten-year-old’s idea of innovation. Would you be willing to change it to ‘Jai Alai’?”

“Jai alai?” responded Mrs. Katel. “You mean that Basque bouncy-ball game they play in Bridgeport, Connecticut? No! That would be a terrible name for Ojai. Sorry but I’m not changing my proposal for Ojai.”

Which left them with no choice but to contact the Lottery Commissioner so as to resolve the dispute. The Lottery Commissioner invited them to his office in Sacramento.

“This is what we’re going to do” said Commissioner Schwarzenegger. “We’re going to flip a coin. Heads, ‘Ohio’, tails ‘Oh-hi-there’. May the better man win.”

The ‘better man’ turned out to be Mrs. Katel.

And that is how Ojai changed its name to ‘Oh-hi-there’.

- copyright 2019 by P.T. Gachot

The Case for Common Sense

The Patels lived in a warm climate and one had to be mindful about buying groceries and leaving them in the car. Sitting in the sun with the windows rolled up, a car quickly turned into a greenhouse, a great place to grow certain varieties of plants, but also a very effective way of spoiling all kinds of foods.

For this reason Mr. Patel always made a point of seeking out shady parking spots. Even if there was no food in the car, he preferred keeping the interior of his car cool. It was just more pleasant that way, and any clothing or cd’s or other personal items would not get compromised by the searing rays of sunshine - sunshine that seemed to get stronger every year, regardless of whether or not you believed in global warming.

Furthermore, Mr. Patel did not mind seeking out the shadiest spots even if it meant parking in the farthest, most remote areas of a parking lot. The way he looked at it, Americans - himself included - were the most overfed people on the planet, and if they had to sacrifice “convenience” for walking long distances to and from the store, it was a good thing, an opportunity for badly-needed exercise. 

Mr. Patel was happy with his parking habits, and to his way of thinking they just made sense. But the community did not see it that way. There was a strong built-in tendency to park as close to the store as possible, and to refuse to make a connection between parking in the blazing hot sun and having your perishable foods spoiled. It was just considered impolite to make that connection.

Later, when people’s banana yogurt and organic eggs and frozen Lima beans were compromised, they were quite fond of throwing a fit about how their food was ruined, and how bad their luck was. This was followed by a stream of angry curses so virulent they would make a drunken sailor blush.

To Mr. Patel’s way of thinking, this was crazy. It simply lacked common sense. With the best of intentions he wrote an editorial in the local newspaper, the title of which was “The Case for Common Sense”. In it, he proposed planting more trees in parking lots, building solar panels and other design techniques that could solve the whole problem.

The community did not take well to Mr. Patel’s editorial. He was shunned in every possible way. First he was branded as “eccentric”, and not long after that terms like “subversive” and “threat to society” were overheard. Finally the floodgates were opened and labels such as “socialist”, “communist”, “hippie” and “tree hugger” were freely directed at Mr. Patel.

None of these words really bothered Mr. Patel very much, but when word got out about an angry mob carrying baseball bats, he made the decision to live like a savage in a remote corner of the Mojave Desert.

Actually he liked the desert very much, so it was really a blessing in disguise. Before long he found a nice, shady cave hidden in the mountains and was crafting spears out of palo verde branches. He frequently hiked to the tops of the nearby mountains where he found the vistas spiritually uplifting. For food he would suck on the juices of cacti and the fruits of Joshua trees. Sometimes his wife would bring him a change of socks and underwear.

This is how Mr. Patel ended up living like a savage in a remote corner of the Mojave Desert. 

- copyright 2019 by P.T. Gachot