BOOK CLUB ESCAPE

After moving to El Dorado County I wanted to meet some people with similar interests, as I had done in previous places. This turned out to be harder than I expected, partly because I don’t really fit in here. I am a San Francisco Bay liberal; the majority of people here are conservative Republicans, Tea Party members, NRA supporters. I am a Unitarian; the closest Unitarian church is an hour’s drive away. Though that might be all right on Sunday mornings, it is in the evenings that conspiracies are hatched and friendships are formed. (I can no longer drive after dark.) Most Sierra Club hikes are too strenuous for me. Having worked for fifty years, I had no intention of looking for a job! The closest library branch needed volunteers; I tried that for a while and enjoyed it, but our travels make it hard for me to commit to any schedule. That also eliminated many other possibilities for volunteer work.

We spend much time in the library anyway when we are not traveling, and one day I noticed that the county library has a book club that meets once a month in the morning. That made me hesitate. My picture of book clubs has always been of uneducated readers reading lightweight books and making inane comments, or of members using the club as an excuse for gossiping about local events and drinking a lot of wine. However, I was getting desperate for intelligent companionship. (My partner provides a lot of it, but I was eager to meet other women.) So, I attended the next book club meeting to see just how bad it was.

It was a pleasant surprise. About a dozen intelligent people gathered to discuss that month’s selection. One of the librarians, Tamela Entrikin, was the leader. She had thought carefully about the book and, like a skilled teacher, encouraged us to comment without dominating the discussion herself or letting us wander too far onto other subjects. Tamela gave me a list of the books to be read in coming months. While I had read a couple of them, the rest were unfamiliar titles or books I wanted to read. Traveling would not be a problem, as members often cannot attend for various reasons. Thanks to my Nook, I could even download books on the club’s list and read them while traveling.

That was three years ago. Since then I have enjoyed getting to know the other members and reading many of the books. Though of course some have been on topics that did not interest me, in general I have liked rediscovering old favorites or being introduced to unfamiliar authors. If not for the book club, for instance, I probably would have not read Marja Mills’ The Mockingbird Next Door, which led to my interest in the Harper Lee mystery. (My last post gave the details.) Our reading Olive Kitteridge introduced me to Elizabeth Stroud. Being a retired science writer, I have been disappointed that we read too few science-related books, but you can’t have everything. I can find those books on my own.

Perhaps the greatest benefit, though, has been meeting compatible people. El Dorado County, though a cultural backwater in some respects, does have a friendly, knowledgeable community within it. I am grateful to have found it.

LIVING IN OLD HANGTOWN

A stuffed dummy of a hanged man, noose around his neck, dangles from an upstairs window. A nearby historical plaque notes that this is the site of the Hanging Tree, where nineteenth century mining-claim jumpers and desperadoes were publicly hanged, gratifying the righteous church-going citizens who watched. This grisly spectacle is near the center of downtown.

Originally Placerville, California, (my recently adopted home) was known as Blood and Guts. When gold was discovered by James Marshall a few miles away in 1848, the Gold Rush ensued, and hordes of both honest miners and ne’er-do-wells soon gathered in the hope of getting rich. As water had to be brought in to wash any gold out of the gravel, the town was renamed (a bit more genteelly) Dry Diggins. It was a wild and woolly place. Frontier justice that included the Hanging Tree followed, with Dry Diggins becoming known as Hangtown. The Gold Rush was short-lived, and in a few years Hangtown became much calmer. Those who wanted a better image changed the name to Placerville in 1854. Fewer saloons and brothels, and more churches, were built.

Today, of course, we are more civilized. The stone house that was once a Chinese brothel has been converted to a lawyer’s office. The saloons are generally peaceful places used for socially drinking into a stupor; only occasionally does a bar fight end in mayhem or murder. The “Old Hangtown”  label on police cars and various signs is supposedly a playful nod to our past.

Totin’ a gun is still widespread here, though.  The El Dorado County sheriff, proud to be a good ol’ boy, has proudly proclaimed that he will refuse to enforce any national legislation leading to gun control. He knows which side his bread is buttered on; in a very Democratic state, this county is extremely Republican. Tom McClintock, our representative in Congress, is one of the most conservative members in the House, and always wins elections handily. The local NRA is obviously popular, too—a recent fund-raiser was sold out immediately. When the scarce liberals in the area write letters urging assault-weapons control to the local newspaper, they are promptly derided for being opposed to the sacred Second Amendment. Indeed, one hapless gun-control advocate soon found that someone had gained access to her credit card and charged a purchase at a local gun dealer. What a fun-lovin’ bunch!

The level of civilization here extends to the intellectual. Because it is the county seat, Placerville has a large library that is used by thousands of patrons (many of whom read no books, but happily use the free computers to play endless games and admire themselves on Facebook). Some legerdemain in the past excused the city’s homeowners from paying any taxes to support the library, however. When a library bond issue came up last year—which would have led to an annual assessment of only $18 per parcel, or the price of a few hamburgers—it was promptly voted down. “No new taxes,” the cry rang out, and the faithful responded.

I’m an unreconstructed Bay Area liberal, and find much of this reprehensible. Why do I stay? Hangtown has many attractions for me. One is the long-suffering library; they have a reasonably good collection of books and videos, the librarians are helpful and pleasant, and I enjoy the book club. If I can avert my eyes from the hanged man, I enjoy strolling along Main Street. I can shop in the Placerville Hardware, the oldest continually operating hardware west of the Mississippi, or at the Placerville News Company.  (Everyone calls it George’s, referring to a long-time owner who died years ago. The fifth generation of his family is now working at the store.) Across the street, the Bookery has a large collection of new and used books. In hot weather the best place to eat in town is the Cozmik Café, where some tables are in an old gold mine once used for storing soda water, butter, and so on. Several thrift shops provide support for the local hospice, and offer inexpensive items for sale. The clothing shops and  pharmacy are locally owned. A flourishing group of artists sell their wares in a cooperative gallery, and there are three historical museums featuring Gold Rush times.

The natural environment is beautiful, in the rock-strewn Sierra Nevada foothills. Apple Hill, a few miles to the east, has acres of apple and pear orchards that are a delight to visit. A drive of less than two hours leads to Lake Tahoe, one of the most spectacular lakes in the country. Though urban sprawl is creeping up from Sacramento, at this point Placerville still has much of the small-town ambiance of Gold Rush times, with only scattered monster homes. My own small home is in a wooded cul-de-sac that belies its proximity to downtown. I like my neighbors! So, I will probably be here for a long time, when I am not on the road in the RV or living off the grid with my partner.