The Antelope Valley is a briar patch of generic houses, three Wal-Marts, one titanic eco-friendly windmill (that is the only thing over three stories tall), and is of extremely high opinion of everyone who lives here. No music scene (outside of this new hardcore/metal trend that's getting popular), a bunch of fast food joints, a growing amount of section eight housing, and some desert that is being sporadically replaced by houses.
Note: However, now that the market is down, in a few places they've completely abandoned building the houses and are stuck with empty lots with the streets paved and the streetlights attached that they build before putting in the homes. It's like the twilight zone only not as awesome and the ratings are lower.
The locals have decided that we can't have lawns anymore because of a water shortage(created by the the overbuilding of new homes), so they are going to make zeroscaping mandatory. Zeroscaping is basically using very little water for your yard.
Projection of my front yard after the passing of zeroscaping law:
But friends, like Joshua Trees, I have endured. I have beaten this 2,200 square mile patch of death and despair and godlessness from taking my spirit time and time again. When it heats to 100+ in the summer, I wear a lighter shirt and blast the AC. When winter rears it's mishapen head, and we go to the twenties, I'm already wearing a jacket. When the wind kicks up the loose sand from the overdevelopment, I'm wearing sunglasses to keep it out of my eyes. It can last no longer, for I have suffered injustice.
Among the desert people, an oasis is the center. They look to it for life and hope. The Antelope Valley is no different, in that there is a lake amidst our sun-drenched sand. Whether it is man-made or not makes no difference, there is a lake!
So I travel to it. I drive nearby. I notice that there is barbed wire around it. Must be to keep the kids out! No problem. I drive around the other side. The streets fade into houses which fade into private property. The final beach is blocked off by a railway. Three out of four sides of our only oasis are owned privately, and the fourth has been dedicated to giving passing men and women of the railcars a pretty view as to not recognize the true blasphemy of this town.
I quit. You win, AV. But the final word has not been spoken.
One thing may flourish here.
It's a long shot, but it's the only hope we have. We need something so bare, so stupid and so dead and dry that it can never leave the accomodations this valley would so surely supply it.
Eureka!
Too true!
Note: However, now that the market is down, in a few places they've completely abandoned building the houses and are stuck with empty lots with the streets paved and the streetlights attached that they build before putting in the homes. It's like the twilight zone only not as awesome and the ratings are lower.
The locals have decided that we can't have lawns anymore because of a water shortage(created by the the overbuilding of new homes), so they are going to make zeroscaping mandatory. Zeroscaping is basically using very little water for your yard.
Projection of my front yard after the passing of zeroscaping law:
But friends, like Joshua Trees, I have endured. I have beaten this 2,200 square mile patch of death and despair and godlessness from taking my spirit time and time again. When it heats to 100+ in the summer, I wear a lighter shirt and blast the AC. When winter rears it's mishapen head, and we go to the twenties, I'm already wearing a jacket. When the wind kicks up the loose sand from the overdevelopment, I'm wearing sunglasses to keep it out of my eyes. It can last no longer, for I have suffered injustice.Among the desert people, an oasis is the center. They look to it for life and hope. The Antelope Valley is no different, in that there is a lake amidst our sun-drenched sand. Whether it is man-made or not makes no difference, there is a lake!
So I travel to it. I drive nearby. I notice that there is barbed wire around it. Must be to keep the kids out! No problem. I drive around the other side. The streets fade into houses which fade into private property. The final beach is blocked off by a railway. Three out of four sides of our only oasis are owned privately, and the fourth has been dedicated to giving passing men and women of the railcars a pretty view as to not recognize the true blasphemy of this town.
I quit. You win, AV. But the final word has not been spoken.
One thing may flourish here.
It's a long shot, but it's the only hope we have. We need something so bare, so stupid and so dead and dry that it can never leave the accomodations this valley would so surely supply it.
Eureka!
Too true!
