Saratoga News | August 14, 2002

August 14, 2002 Saratoga, California Since 1955

Stereoptican

Five-year plan works here, maybe not for Soviets

By Willys Peck

He's back.

Sam—my acronymic inner voice, Subliminal Argumentative Mouthing—has a way of turning up when I'm faced with a perplexing task or question, usually when it involves writing a column.

A recent conversation went something like this.

"Something bothering you, sonny boy?" was his opener. "You've got so many wrinkles in your forehead, it looks like you have to screw your hat on."

"I don't wear a hat," I replied, "and that's a very old joke. I just happen to be thinking about my next Stereopticon column."

"I was, too," said Sam. "What I usually think: It's towel-tossing time. Pack it in. Your subject matter has a limited scope. You've been at it over six years, and you're a very senior citizen. Give yourself and the readers a break. Pack it in."

"Hah," I exclaimed. "I just got an idea."

"Treat it kindly," said Sam. "It's in a strange place."

"I'll call it my five-year plan," I went on, "and I'll start with my next column."

"Five-year plan?" Sam replied incredulously. "That's what the Soviets had when they were getting things cranked up in the 1930s. You want to be called a communist?"

"Red-baiter Joe McCarthy is long gone," I countered. "My five-year plan will mean going back to my columns of five years ago and comparing the situation in Saratoga today with what it was back then."

"Well, good luck," said Sam. "Only I think you're going to need more than luck."

It's nice to have friends.

So here we are back in August 1997, when I was expounding on the different concepts associated with the term "small town." One is the narrow, insular sense and the other the down-home, neighborly sense. I concluded that Saratoga was heavier on the latter.

That was also the time when the lease for the Saratoga Drugstore was the subject of legal action, and a court ruling made it look like the store was going to stay in business. Two years later, though, the favorable court ruling was overturned and the proprietors couldn't pay the higher rent, so the Village lost its only drugstore.

That sparked a discussion on my part of the nature of the downtown business district, which is of critical interest today to the city. It has gotten to the point where there is now a city economic development coordinator, and she has her work cut out for her. If anything is needed around here, it's economic development.

My observation at the time was that, while Saratoga's business district of the 1930s, '40s and later might not have been considered vibrant, the stores and services were there because they were needed. The town was able to support four grocery stores, all of which provided home delivery; three auto repair shops, one of which had a new-car dealership; three service stations, with emphasis on service ("Check your oil? Wash your windshield?"); a candy store and soda fountain; a blacksmith shop until World War II; a bakery; a dry-goods store; and three barbers. You might say the Village was economically developed.

Another topic five years ago was how the opening day of school in the fall was determined by the prune harvest. The reason was that orchardists depended on school-age kids to pick prunes during what was usually the hottest time of the year. For the young prune pickers, the opening of school came as something of a relief. Incidentally, don't get me started on the prunes/dried plums issue. The prune may be a variety of plum, but it's its own variety, and there are fresh prunes and dried prunes. End of sermon.

I don't look for any civic observance of the event, such as a reenactment, but next month will be the 65th anniversary of Saratoga's first bank robbery. That was when a couple of misguided young men walked into the Bank of America branch, located in the brick building now housing The Bank bistro, leveled a .32-caliber automatic over the counter and demanded cash. The teller-manager obliged, but when the bandits left, he followed them out with the bank's .38 caliber revolver and fired after their fleeing car.

He nicked the car, but the bandits got away, only to be captured sometime later near Fullerton. My column commented on the fact that, in 1937, Saratoga was the kind of town where you could fire a cannon down the main street and not hit anyone.

But that kind of put-down really wasn't warranted—not then and not now. Neither was Sam's comment about a limited scope of subject matter. Saratoga has a rich variety of subject matter without my having to resurrect old material. And, when you look at it, maybe the five-year plan didn't do all that much for the Soviets in the long run.