Brokenhearted in Bakersfield

 

29 - ULELE

Passenger trains don’t stop in Ulele anymore, so I was forced to jump off that rattling deathtrap-on-wheels when it passed through my old hometown.  Folks in First Class would’a had to jump too, but then, First Class folks don’t have a good reason to stop in Ulele.

I tried to tuck and roll in a fetal position like I used to, but moving at over 40 miles-per-hour meant a hard landing no matter what, including more than a few rough scrapes before reaching a full stop.  After bouncing and spinning and flailing through the scrub and the trash, I just laid out on the hot gravel to the side of the tracks where I rested awhile.  Even as I don’t bounce so good like I used to, it now takes me a lot longer to get back on my feet.

After one deep breath of air I knew immediately where I was.  Ulele, California.  It was proudly famous as The Natural Gas Capital of the Whole Damn World.  My old hometown was shrouded in a dark blue haze, and the whole place smelled like the pilot light was blown out.  Looking around, I discovered I was layin’ next to the graffiti-covered Ulele Convention & Visitors Bureau, which consisted of an unattended brochure stand and a faded sign:  Please, Take One.  There I noticed a small stack of brochures, so I took one.  This brochure had a lot of historical facts and information about Ulele that I did not know.  Plus it contained a shocking revelation.

ANATOMY OF A COMPANY TOWN
©The Chamber of Commerce of Ulele, CA

First settled in 1929 by famed ukulele player and silent film star Harry Oskarlic, our town is best described by its proud motto:

“Ulele is where the wind is free, and full of gas, naturally.”

Thrilling movie audiences of a bygone era, Harry Oskarlic and his fabled dancing co-star Fanny Kartone entertained with a unique blend of song and dance routines on the silver screen.  In such Hollywood classics as “Uke Along the Mohawk,” “Uke Boy and The Contessa,” and their big hit, “Ukes of Endearment,” Harry and Fanny hit upon a surefire cinematic formula:  Ukulele-Playing-Boy-Next-Door meets Dancing-Dying-Girl-Next-Door and he wins her heart with the pluck of his magical instrument.

But everything changed with the advent of “talkies.”  After audiences could actually hear Harry’s nasal lisping voice and, worse, his ukulele playing, the movie idol was unceremoniously ushered out the side door of show biz.  Harry’s longtime cinematic partner, Fanny, also left the world of movie-making to pursue a career as a theatrical ticket-taker.  Sadly, the most romantic duo of the late ‘Teens and early ‘Twenties had an unscripted “The End” written to their legendary movie careers.

Down but definitely not out, Harry pooled his remaining assets and headed East, deep into the desert, sustained by a newfound dream.  Fatefully, he staked out a new life for himself in this arid and uninviting terrain, and he erected his ukulele factory.

Harry christened the town that soon sprouted up around the ukulele factory as “Ukulele” – but, having the equivalent of a third grade education, he erroneously wrote “Ulele” on the papers of incorporation.  Thus, the mistake became formally and forever memorialized for posterity.

The ukulele fad was petering out at the time, however, and most of the big instrument makers discontinued their lines.  College boys stopped sporting raccoon coats and strumming away on ukes once they discovered girls thought this was no longer cool.  But Harry remained steadfast in his dream to provide the nation’s un-cool with instrumentation.

The factory managed to survive until the mid-1930s when a Federal Judge declared the business a monopoly and ordered it broken up.  Unfortunately, when news of the judge’s order came down, the obedient workers literally dismantled Harry’s beloved ukulele factory.

Despondent and indulging in a bout of heavy drinking, Harry apparently flung himself onto the baked tiles of the empty swimming pool at his fabulous home, Casa Grande.  Perhaps most unluckily, Harry’s mysterious suicide occurred before he was informed his workers had inadvertently unearthed a huge deposit of natural gas that was worth a fortune.

Nevertheless, the dead star’s legacy of natural gas proved to be a financial boon (if not quite an environmental blessing) for the redolent and charming town we love today.