Postcards from Billy (Madera, CA)

This morning we left Madera, CA. Some news special a few years back called this place "The Land that Time Forgot." Our friend Patrick said it's because nobody ever leaves. Ever. I've only met a handful of people from here, and they were here when we arrived yesterday and are still here as we drive away, so I supposed I can't argue with that reasoning with any real authority. I find them to be wonderful folks, especially Patrick's family, who are warm and kind-hearted and the kind of people you would trust with your own kids. Patrick's depiction of the town is generations upon generations of deeply interwoven and probably mostly blood-related community living like it's the Wild West. When we went out to dinner, he made it sound like the most dangerous town in the country, which seemed a bit dramatic, but added a touch of excitement to the evening. Ben and I had a whiskey flight to keep in the spirit of things.

California is in a fierce water crisis. I took an army shower in our "fancy" hotel that looked like a spa and had yummy shower amenities and an elaborate breakfast, turning off the water while I shampooed my hair and soaped my shivering body. It was invigorating. I felt like a major bad-ass. Then when I rinsed off, the water was sooooo deliciously warm that I stayed in for a few extra minutes. In the end, I don't think I saved any water, but it's raining now and I kind of didn't shower again yesterday. Also, I have no kids, so I am ahead by about a hundred million eco-points, which means I won a steak dinner last night and today we bought plastic bottles of smartwater with absolutely no idea where the nearest recycle bin will be once we slake this wicked thirst. On the other hand, we haven't printed a single useless document in a corporate office for nearly three weeks. Still winning!