How much better off David Crisp would have been to have heeded my advice, bought the Padre Hotel and turned it into a world class “gentlemen’s club,” you know, a cathouse rivaling anything in Las Vegas or San Francisco. At the time I was writing about this I’m sure David was aware of this rare opportunity to put Bakersfield on the map. Alas, he was not farsighted enough to understand the merit of my suggestion, and just look at the trouble he is in now. As it turned out, David had enough brains to scam people out of relatively paltry sums of money working his small-minded version of a Ponzi scheme, but not enough brains to be a true visionary. And so, I’ve written Donald Trump to see if he might be interested.

There is one thing that may turn Trump off to my suggestion concerning the Padre Hotel; the mention of Bakersfield. I know he thinks location, location, location. And I have no illusions about what images are conjured up in people’s minds at the name Bakersfield. After all, despite my Ph. D. I’ve encountered a few problems with people associating my birthplace of Weedpatch with Al Capp’s Dogpatch; both euphonic, lyrical names that pleasingly roll off the tongue, but Bakersfield? The Bakersfield Californian did a really bang-up job exposing Crisp, but where is the paper touting my own vision for the Padre, my vision for what this could do for Bakersfield? Strangely silent. But what reasonable person could fail to see how such a thing would put real meaning in the motto “Life as it should be.”

However, when I wrote an article questioning whether marijuana is now Kern County’s real cash crop few dared respond to that. But as the noose tightens around the quasi-legal dispensaries statewide we have to wonder where the money trail leads for a failed and phony “war on drugs?” But you know, I have written about this for so many years now it just doesn’t seem to be worth the effort any longer. If I’m going to tilt at windmills, I would like to leave a Quixotic legacy of my vision for making my hometown of Bakersfield the envy of merely pretentious people that roll their eyes over any mention of Btown by my continuing to suggest to the city fathers that turning the Padre into a world class pleasure palace is the right thing to do.

I deign to say if a poll were taken most people would agree politicians are whores. But in my opinion this is demeaning and degrading to “working girls,” since there is really no honest comparison. Politicians treat elected office as a license to steal; they enjoy the drugs and prostitutes they treat as perks coming with election all the while denying such things to We the People. We even see celebrities facing charges that politicians routinely escape.

There is no denying the hypocrisy of the whole thing. Neither is there any motive but money in denying We the People the same perks like drugs and prostitutes politicians demand as though they were the only truly privileged class in America. But then, I remind myself that one of the benefits of old age and having no empire to protect is being able to speak my mind. No one has to listen. But now honestly; what real argument can be made against my suggestion for the Padre? At the very least, considering the recent firestorm over Councilman Couch, wouldn’t it be fun to bring the matter up before the city fathers?

For those at least mildly interested in my proposal for the Padre, here is a brief recap of a few things I wrote to justify my position:

January 21, 2007

A kindly word for the “working girl”

One of the things I would like to see here in the Kern River Valley and in downtown Bakersfield is a “gentleman’s club,” you know, a brothel. But not just a whorehouse, an upscale nicely appointed palace of vice right out of a Hollywood production. Ideally these places would also provide marijuana legally. Such establishments properly regulated and taxed would be a real boon to local economies.

For that very small minority that might object to such a thing, consider the fact Walt Kelly made so clear in Pogo when discussing the presidential elections a “Vice Party” was suggested and Churchy asks Owl, “Deep down, wouldn’t you be for vice too … given the chance?” My dear brothers and sisters, no matter how you slice it a Vice Party is exactly what both Republicans and Democrats represent. Were these honest vice parties I would find no fault in that. But one of the problems I have with this is politicians of every stripe allow of every kind of vice among themselves including prostitution and illegal drugs, often at taxpayer expense, but hypocritically deny these vices to We the People! And quite frankly this makes me mad as hell! Why should the very vices politicians treat as their personal domain coming with elected office be made illegal and denied ordinary American citizens?

While historians and behavioral scientists have not made it much of an issue, sexual frustration may account for many of the wars of men as well as many of the more noble achievements. After all, for many men and women a cold shower just does not suffice; and much of our history as a species may well be understood in the light of sexual frustration on the part of both men and women.

Now I am all for traditional marriage and families as the foundation of all civilized societies. I am a staunch supporter of the sanctity of marriage, the sacredness of the marriage bed. But I am at least equally opposed to the kind of hypocrisy that denies sex is a normal function of the human species and makes it a crime for relieving one’s sexual frustration by simple mechanism of economics. There is all this foofaraw over abortion, so many women claiming they have the right to determine what to do with their own bodies while at the same time denying the “working girl” the same right. And what of the men in Congress and elsewhere that legislate and pass laws self-righteously denying women this right to their own bodies? Hypocrites!

The right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness should have included prostitution. After all, this was thriving at the time of the Founding Fathers, it was quite acceptable in most of the civilized societies at the time and throughout history, and it is doubtful the early years of our government could have been successful without a plentiful supply of bordellos. If our early legislators did not see these establishments as threatening to home and hearth, what happened to change their minds? All the other biological functions of the body are carefully attended, enormous amounts being spent on bathrooms for example, why the normal function of sex is suppressed is the stuff of history and books by the thousands...

However, the historical male dominance that makes whores of women while men have escaped any such pejorative appellation, at the same time denying the same right to women hiring themselves a man to satisfy their normal sexual desire, does make for the steamy novels, plays and films that take full advantage of this dichotomy in most cultures. And the refusal of men to accept women on the same basis they excuse themselves makes for an industry where women pander to the lust of men, making fools of men in the process. But men seem to excuse their foolishness in this regard while penalizing women and holding them in contempt. Consider the man playing the fool exclaiming “I never had to pay for it!” as though that was a proclamation of his “manhood.”

January 22, 2007

Why not a “gentlemen’s club” in Bakersfield?

Since I am known as a writer of humor, it was gratifying to receive so many notes from people who got a laugh out of my suggesting I would like to see a “gentlemen’s club” in downtown Bakersfield. While many people commenting understood the significance of my support for legalizing prostitution and treated it with the seriousness such a thing deserves, it was the name “Bakersfield” being associated with a fancy, legal whorehouse that tickled not a few funny bones. And by golly, I’m tired of Bakersfield being the butt of derisive jokes having this image problem and propose doing something about it!

While I was born in Weedpatch, I have always considered Bakersfield my hometown. And I have fond memories of the Dust Bowl folks among whom I was raised, many fond memories of our little church and grocery store on the corner of Cottonwood and Padre, and I know first hand the kind of nobility associated with the best of those Okies and Arkies with their polite southern manners and speech so characteristic of long held traditions of such things.

But let’s face it folks, when anyone says “Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Malibu, San Francisco” these names conjure up a certain image. And, when anyone says “Bakersfield” this conjures up a certain image; and it certainly is quite distinct from that of the other cities mentioned. And people are not going to confuse CSUB with Stanford or Berkeley. However, perhaps because of my being born in Weedpatch I may be a tad more conscious of and sensitive to the name of one’s birthplace, and maybe that has something to do with my sticking up for Bakersfield. That said I do understand the importance of perception. And I want to do my bit in changing the perception of Bakersfield.