As the year began I took a walking tour along the Monterey rec trail in search of the next great depression, and failed to find it. Instead I found myself captivated by the beautiful coastline, and people simply out enjoying the lovely weather that day. ( A link to that article is here. ) Like the hard bed of granite the Monterey Peninsula rests on, there was simply too much wealth and relative affluence in this area to be worn down by the waves of recession I had been writing about in my biweekly articles.
While unemployment peaked here in March at 16.2%, it has since come down, and is currently 12.1%, and much of that is because the county encompasses interior valley cities like Salinas, and smaller communities like Chualar, San Ardo, Las Lomas, Moss Landing, and Gonzales, where the unemployment rate is over 25%. In the more affluent cities like Carmel, Pacific Grove and Monterey itself, the employment situation is fairly stable.
But each week the owners of small farms in the valley make the rounds, going from one Farmer's Market in the county to another, trading their produce for much needed cash. And lately, without any effort on my part to look for it, the recession has bumped into me in odd places--outside big chain stores, inside quaint restaurants, and even on the street curbside of relatively upscale residential districts.
I was having breakfast at a popular haunt in P.G. the other day, and could not help but overhear the conversation of a couple at the next table, bemoaning their withered budget this Christmas, and wondering how they would get through--even afford their simple breakfast together. When it came time to receive the bill, however, the waiter instead told them that the party at another table had picked up their tab. Quite surprised at this, the couple got up, went over to the other table, and the gentleman said "so how can I earn my breakfast?" They both offered their warm thanks, and shook hands all around, exchanging good holiday wishes.
You don't see many homeless in this area, but lately the few I do notice have come up from their haunts on the coastal areas, into the city. They come to the Farmer's Market to beg for food, and the other night an old gentleman was standing outside the local CVS store, catching the warm air as the automatic door opened on a chilly night, and asking for help--just a dollar.
Then, later that same evening, when I went out to deposit a water container in the recycling bin, I heard what I thought was another resident doing the same. Instead it was a couple, younger man and an older woman, perhaps his mother, rooting out bottles from the bins, obviously to redeem them for cash at the Nob Hill recyclers.
I haven't lived in the area long, but I can say that these scenarios are rare here in a region that largely offers a host of touristy shops, boutiques, and art galleries. The recession is still not easy to find here, though it is starting to show up in these unexpected ways. Well... thank god for the kind hearts that paid that couple's bill!
A year later I end my article rants on the economy with another "time to smell the roses" piece where I take in a sunrise and sunset in this beautiful place. In spite of all I process about the economy, such moments carry the real essence of what's important in life. So join me for a sunrise and sunset over Monterey Bay, and forget the recession for a while as Christmas draws near. Last January I wrote:
"Life was getting on with its business all around me, and whether or not that was happening in the limited reality of retail stores and restaurants could not define the enormity of this constant activity and change that was everywhere apparent. See what an hour on a bench by the sea will do for you! The swells of the sea and the breaking of waves in endless variability have a way of instilling thoughts like these. Was I a lost soul, forlorn, trapped in Paradise and waiting for the next Great Depression? Not in any way. You can’t watch the gulls convening on the rocks with the sea lions, without a seeming care in the world, and still hold to fast to your own inner demons. No, this place is a balm for the soul. So instead of thinking about the war in Gaza, or the sagging economy, or the people and places I left behind me to come here, I watched two lovebirds pirouette about one another near the edge of the waves and realized that love is everywhere around me, if only I take the time to look. Even the rocks by the sea embraced one another in a sweet kiss. Something tells me that Great Depression or no Great Depression, I will be happy here in Paradise."
A year later I can report the same sense of happiness and inner peace is well rooted in my heart. I hope you discover a way to find your own peace and tranquility this holiday season, and wish you all the best.
While unemployment peaked here in March at 16.2%, it has since come down, and is currently 12.1%, and much of that is because the county encompasses interior valley cities like Salinas, and smaller communities like Chualar, San Ardo, Las Lomas, Moss Landing, and Gonzales, where the unemployment rate is over 25%. In the more affluent cities like Carmel, Pacific Grove and Monterey itself, the employment situation is fairly stable.
But each week the owners of small farms in the valley make the rounds, going from one Farmer's Market in the county to another, trading their produce for much needed cash. And lately, without any effort on my part to look for it, the recession has bumped into me in odd places--outside big chain stores, inside quaint restaurants, and even on the street curbside of relatively upscale residential districts.
I was having breakfast at a popular haunt in P.G. the other day, and could not help but overhear the conversation of a couple at the next table, bemoaning their withered budget this Christmas, and wondering how they would get through--even afford their simple breakfast together. When it came time to receive the bill, however, the waiter instead told them that the party at another table had picked up their tab. Quite surprised at this, the couple got up, went over to the other table, and the gentleman said "so how can I earn my breakfast?" They both offered their warm thanks, and shook hands all around, exchanging good holiday wishes.
You don't see many homeless in this area, but lately the few I do notice have come up from their haunts on the coastal areas, into the city. They come to the Farmer's Market to beg for food, and the other night an old gentleman was standing outside the local CVS store, catching the warm air as the automatic door opened on a chilly night, and asking for help--just a dollar.
Then, later that same evening, when I went out to deposit a water container in the recycling bin, I heard what I thought was another resident doing the same. Instead it was a couple, younger man and an older woman, perhaps his mother, rooting out bottles from the bins, obviously to redeem them for cash at the Nob Hill recyclers.
I haven't lived in the area long, but I can say that these scenarios are rare here in a region that largely offers a host of touristy shops, boutiques, and art galleries. The recession is still not easy to find here, though it is starting to show up in these unexpected ways. Well... thank god for the kind hearts that paid that couple's bill!
A year later I end my article rants on the economy with another "time to smell the roses" piece where I take in a sunrise and sunset in this beautiful place. In spite of all I process about the economy, such moments carry the real essence of what's important in life. So join me for a sunrise and sunset over Monterey Bay, and forget the recession for a while as Christmas draws near. Last January I wrote:
"Life was getting on with its business all around me, and whether or not that was happening in the limited reality of retail stores and restaurants could not define the enormity of this constant activity and change that was everywhere apparent. See what an hour on a bench by the sea will do for you! The swells of the sea and the breaking of waves in endless variability have a way of instilling thoughts like these. Was I a lost soul, forlorn, trapped in Paradise and waiting for the next Great Depression? Not in any way. You can’t watch the gulls convening on the rocks with the sea lions, without a seeming care in the world, and still hold to fast to your own inner demons. No, this place is a balm for the soul. So instead of thinking about the war in Gaza, or the sagging economy, or the people and places I left behind me to come here, I watched two lovebirds pirouette about one another near the edge of the waves and realized that love is everywhere around me, if only I take the time to look. Even the rocks by the sea embraced one another in a sweet kiss. Something tells me that Great Depression or no Great Depression, I will be happy here in Paradise."
A year later I can report the same sense of happiness and inner peace is well rooted in my heart. I hope you discover a way to find your own peace and tranquility this holiday season, and wish you all the best.
