Monday, August 4, 2008

The Little Farm in Mountain View

There was a little farm in Mountain View, CA. A couple of blocks on a very busy street in Silicon Valley were farmland instead of houses, stores or condos. The headquarters and sales room was a rambling, old fashioned fruit stand, on a dusty semi-circular drive. All was in the shade of an ancient California live oak. The farm itself extended back from the busy street for a few blocks so that the whole thing comprised between 5 and 10 acres. I’m not good on acres.

By mid-morning the moms were there with their pre-schoolers. Vans and SUV’s crowded the driveway. Some observant families noted that the greens and tomatoes went on the shelf late in the day. So, dad would stop by on his way home from work to buy greens for that evening’s salad while they were as fresh as could be. The stand was a bit pricey but, hey, you were buying fresh and you were buying local. That’s got to be worth something. Besides, the fresh produce from the little farm couldn’t be compared to the weary stuff from the local Safeway. The latter seemed to plead to the customer “Please buy me now, before I go into the rubbish.”

In summer the corn grew. Would it be knee high by the 4th of July? It always exceeded that criterion by a good foot. In fall the dried corn stalks were cut down and pumpkins were brought in from Half Moon Bay. Little railroad tracks were laid down and a Punkin Train chugged through the Punkin Patch making it easier for families to spot their perfect pumpkin. One year a story went around that a single mom and a single dad met on the Punkin Train. Their kids begged to go to McDonalds for lunch and well… I won’t repeat the whole story. It’s too long and I have serious doubts about its veracity. But, the real point is that lots of people repeated it and many believed it was true. Why? Because they knew that the Little Farm was a magical place where good things happened and wishes were granted.


As our families grew and we welcomed immigrants from foreign lands, more housing was needed. The Little Farm was sold to a builder so that he could build condos. Well, two years have passed and the land is still vacant. Last year I read in the Mountain View paper that the builder could not get permission to build his condos. The land is too polluted. The only solution might be to pave it all over. The article did not make it clear if that is economically feasible.


They can’t just let the land sit there. They must do something with it, but what? Why not the obvious? Why not repeat what worked before? Is it possible that this obvious solution might dawn on the brain dead politicians on the City Council? If we cross our fingers and close our eyes as tight as we can and wish as hard as we can, it might dawn on them. We might get our Little Farm back. I know that the Little Farm is still a magical place where good things happen and wishes are granted.