I’ve Been To California Several Times . . . from the North to the South, and in spite of the State being Gorgeous – I have ZERO INCLINATION of ever Spending my Time or my Money in this Bizarre Part of America, even though there are many Good Conservative People in California who Read & Support Galganov.com.
It’s Incomprehensible To Me How Such A Gifted State Can Be So Un-American.
If I Happened To Be A Resident Of San Francisco . . . I would NEVER ADMIT IT, since the shame of belonging to a Culture that Protects Illegal People, and then Sets them FREE, after Egregious Crimes, goes beyond Simple Understanding, IT GOES TO THE MENTAL DISEASE OF THE LEFT.
California Is A Sick Mindset.
YEARS AGO . . . Anne & I took a West Coast – Northern California Vacation, where we stayed at an Exclusive B&B in Carmel By The Sea. It’s a beautiful area, where People have the right to have Pride in their Environment, and even though we were thoroughly enjoying ourselves, there was always a NIGGLING FEELING, that somehow we didn’t belong.
ONE DAY WHILE ON THE TRIP . . . Anne and I decided to take a well advertised Train Excursion through the Middle of Napa Valley, where it was promoted, that on the Train, we would be treated to a GOURMET MEAL and Local Fine Wine, as we passed Vineyards and Wineries along to our Destination, where we would be given a Tour and Tasting at one of the Biggest Napa Wineries.
First, the Train was a Luxurious 18th Century Style Coach, pulled by a Diesel Engine, instead of a Steam Engine, as we were made to expect.
Then . . . We began to meet some of the Other Passengers, mostly from the North East, who were without exaggeration – POMPOUS SHMUCKS, wanting to appear to each other as Special & Knowledgeable Connoisseurs, when it came to Wine, Vineyards and Wineries.
These Phonies Didn’t Know Their Ass From Their Elbow.
AND THEN CAME THE MEAL . . . Served on Ornate Plates with Fancy Cutlery and real Napkins. The PROBLEM with the Meal However, was that I had eaten much better on Commercial Airlines . . . WHICH SERVED MORE FOOD.
And as for the Free Wine, it wasn’t more than Half a Glass each, of Whatever they Served in Red or White.
In Essence . . . It Was A Hugely Misrepresented Expensive Rip-Off.
And Believe Me . . . We Paid Plenty For This Stupid Tour.
As we Rolled along the Tracks, at the Center of Napa Valley, at a speed I could keep up with by foot, we saw the Back-Lawns of plenty of Small Vineyards & Private Properties, where the owners of these Properties had very DISPARAGING Signs, more or less Cursing the Rail Line we were on as an Invasion of their Privacy.
WHEN WE GOT TO THE WINERY . . . Anne and I had already come to the Conclusion, that the Money we spent on this Vineyard Tour Con-Job, would have been Better Spent giving it all away to Homeless People.
As the Pompous Winery Foreman was explaining how the Winery Process Worked, he made it ABUNDANTLY CLEAR, that we all Better be Paying Close Attention to what he said, Because He Won’t Answer The Same Question Twice.
AND AS HE WAS BS-ING THE TOURISTS . . . with all kinds of Nonsense, with which to later Sell Wine, I was adding up the Number of Barrels, how much Wine each Barrel could Hold, and what the Life Expectancy was of each Barrel, in order to determine the Profitability of this Business, since I wasn’t Really Interested in the CRAPOLA Pouring Forth from this Rude Jerk’s Mouth.
And Then . . . A Rather Big Man, a Very-Very Big Man In-Fact, who was wearing a White Cowboy Hat, politely asked a question which the Jerk apparently had already answered . . . AND IN FRONT OF THE SEVERAL DOZEN PEOPLE FROM THE TRAIN – The Winery Jerk Lit Into the Big Man, telling him, IN AN EXTREMELY IMPOLITE WAY, that his question was already Asked & Answered. So he better pay attention.
So . . . here we all stood in the Barrel Warehouse, watching this Big Cowboy Being Dressed-Down like a Chastised Little Boy, Diminished in front of all his Peers, looking as if he was wanting to find a Crack in the Floor, to where he could hide.
SO, WITHOUT MUCH HESITATION . . . I asked the same question as did the Cowboy, to which the Winery Jerk said the same to me, as he did to the Embarrassed & Contrite Cowboy, that the Question was already Asked & Answered, to which I responded in a very Loud & Confrontational Voice, Making Full & Hard Eye Contact with the Jerk . . . “THEN YOU’LL ANSWER IT AGAIN”!
There was a Moment of Silence in the Warehouse, as the Jerk & I stared at each other, with my Fists Clenched, as I didn’t Break My Stare For A Second . . . Which He Did.
THE JERK ANSWERED THE QUESTION . . . The Cowboy gave me a look of Gratitude, and the Tour continued until we got to the TASTING ROOM, which was the Culmination of the Big Con, to sell as many Bottles of Wine as Possible to the SUCKERS on the Train.
AND WHEN THE JERK STARTED HIS PITCH . . . He used the French Names to Describe the Grapes and the Wines he was Peddling, but his EMPHASIZED Pronouncement of the French was so Piss-Poor, that it was an Insult to the Language Anne & I grew up with, and used in our everyday lives . . . SO – AS NOT TO MISS AN OPPORTUNITY TO FURTHER EMBARRASS THE JERK, in a very Loud & Clear Voice, I Corrected him in Proper French, AND THEN SAID . . .
. . . CALIFORNIA WINES TASTE OK, but there’s no Comparison Whatsoever between the Commercialization of California Wines, and the Controlled Regions of Europe, to which the Jerk suggested that Anne & I would be happier to wait on the Train until the Tour was Done.
Interestingly . . . We had to stand outside . . . next to the Train, because the doors were locked, and the Train People didn’t want anyone on the Train when it wasn’t running, for fear that People might drink some of their Cheap Wine.
And when the Promoters allowed us all back on the Train, not only wouldn’t any of these Stuck-Up Wine “Connoisseurs” speak to Anne and Myself . . . NONE OF THEM WOULD EVEN SIT CLOSE TO US.
THAT’S CALIFORNIA . . . A World of Make-Believe, where Hollywood Make-Believe, Internet Make-Believe & Self Styled Elitist Con Artists Reign Supreme, where George Orwell would find Full Vindication for his 1949 Classic – 1984 . . . which described what a Dystopian Society would be like, in the Direction California is Heading.
It’s Too Bad About Kate Steinle. It’s Too Bad About Steinle’s Parents . . .
. . . But Most Of All . . . It’s Too Bad For America.
Best Regards . . . Howard Galganov