After a two-month break, today I will reintroduce you to a small
town strikingly similar to Hollister
– New Acidria, which is located 50 minutes northeast of San
Benito County.
After a two-month break, today I will reintroduce you to a small town strikingly similar to Hollister – New Acidria, which is located 50 minutes northeast of San Benito County.
Again, do not expect to comprehend too much about this narrative. I tend to ramble.
Just as a reminder: New Acidria is centered around – some would say tyrannized by – the Acidria Co-Jack Cheese Factory, which has historically employed every citizen since the town’s establishment in the early 1930s. I’m the town scribe with my own newsletter, the Weekly Bamboozle, which is not to be confused with another local weekly paper.
Before I give my report, I must apologize, as I haven’t published since January. Times are tough financially. My only advertiser and the only other business close to town, Malvolio’s Massage Therapy, moved away, so I couldn’t afford to publish. Only recently, I convinced the cheese factory to sponsor the Bamboozle.
In my latest edition I reported the effects of an alleged “ant plague” at the cheese factory – a story I broke in the Bamboozle about a red ant invasion (a story which, I must proudly say, was 18,000 words long). Since, there have been no sightings of ant problems in the factory, and the issue has lost interest.
However, unremitting controversy has returned to our tiny dwelling. Acidria Co-Jack Factory Manager Rip Van Nostradamus suddenly announced his retirement last week, so the City Council is scurrying to find a replacement. Council members, however, expressed ease about the recruitment. After the Council meeting Monday, they laughed gaily together while downing pizza and pitchers of Cherry Coke at Mountain Mike’s in Hollister.
“No prob, Bob,” chuckled Councilman Lurkin Gurkin, who is not to be confused with Hollister Mayor Brian Conroy. “Wait, don’t quote me on that…
“We feel a pertinence to choose the most qualified leader, as the fate of thousands of cheese lovers rests in our hands,” he said, and erupted in laughter.
On another heated front, in mid-March the city hired two out-of-town garbage collectors, which equates to a population jump from eight to 10 residents – 11 if you include Mayor Green the Goose Poo, who isn’t a real person but rather just a goose poo dressed in a tiny suit.
Citizens are furious about the 25-percent population increase, the largest since Acidria Co-Jack partnered with Oscar Mayer’s Lunchables division for two months in 1994.
Now, the Council is considering an ordinance to allow only two types of new citizenry for 10 years – cheese factory workers and vaudeville performers, the latter as part of a plan to motivate workers by providing circus entertainment during breaks.
Dissension surrounds the two garbagemen – Stephano Jankowski and Dion Quinlan, not to be confused with Hollister Public Works department heads Lawrence Jackson and Clint Quilter. So I asked permission to be embedded with the collectors during their first week on the job.
I followed them to each of New Acidria’s eight houses – nine if you include Green’s mayoral mansion. On that Monday’s second stop, I stuck a microphone in their faces and asked, “What are your thoughts right now?”
Jankowski responded, “We try not to think when we collect garbage. To us, this is like playing music. And most musicians don’t think while they play. They just perform.”
That quote, I told him, may someday win me a Pulitzer Prize. For the rest of the week, I stopped asking questions and merely observed.
Meanwhile, in Hollister, life is pleasant like fresh roses – or apple pie, whichever you prefer. Well, that’s excluding a couple minor setbacks within governmental ranks. Amidst rumors, the police chief recently announced his retirement; the county Board of Supervisors dismissed public pleas by approving a controversial growth initiative; and a well-respected interim city manager will soon depart.
Regardless, Magnus Americo – not to be confused with Hollister Councilman Tony LoBue – said it best at the Council’s pizza party.
“We are all fortunate, for Hollister is God’s country,” he said. “Now pass me some Cherry Coke, reporter boy, or I won’t leak you any stories this week.”
They all laughed.
