There was this one time? In Minecraft?

I'm about to say something that no one from a major metropolitan area has ever said before: [dramatic pause] [clears throat] I love Bakersfield.

I don't know what it is about this dusty cow-town, but every time Dave and I go there, we have a great time. We enjoy ourselves the whole time we're there, and we leave smiling. Is it the scintillating activities? No. Is it the beautiful surroundings? No. Is it the pleasing temperatures? No, no, and no. Is it that we're treated like visiting royalty every time we arrive? Well, OK, maybe.

Part of it has to be Unk's friend Father Craig. Someone needs to write a book about the fascinating character that is Craig. He is like no priest you have ever met before. To sum up: He has lived through unspeakable tragedies in his life; he ministers to some of the poorest immigrant farmworking families in the state; he has adopted and raised eight kids from harrowing circumstances who have since gone on to live successful and productive lives; and he is just so darned funny. You can sit there listening to him for hours and your sides will split from laughing. Dave and I were trying to think of a single word to describe his personality and we came up with, "winsome," "infectious," "magnetic."

When we were in Las Vegas, Luke became fascinated with gambling (and me losing money) so he asked me if anyone ever won at gambling. "Yes," I told him, "Father Craig. Let's remember to ask him about it when we see him."

Craig has this very odd personality quirk where he is the luckiest person ever in gambling. When Luke asked him about it, he told us this story that seemed almost like a tall tale, except it happened to Craig so you knew it had to be true: "A few months ago I went to a casino with some friends but I didn't feel like gambling that night. But we were all sitting at dinner and my name was drawn in some kind of drawing where you go up in front and they give you a ball and put it in a wheel and you get the prize that it lands on. The ball landed on a slot that won $5,000. My friends were sad because they hadn't won anything, so I gave them each $500. Then they were bugging me to gamble with them, so finally as we were leaving for the night, I put $20 in a slot machine. The max bet was $3, so I bet $3...nothing. $3...nothing. $3....nothing. $3...and then I won $10,000. Then I was sitting there waiting for them to process the money, because it takes a while to do all the paperwork, so I slid over to the slot machine next to it and I won $20,000. I didn't even want to gamble that night and I won $35,000!"

Then just as we're processing this whole story and laughing about it, he finishes with the kicker, "Oh, and the next night I was at one of those raffles for a benefit and I won a 1965 Thunderbird."

You could hate him for it, but he's so gosh-darned earnest and sweet about it, and he gives it all away, so you just have to shake your head in disbelief. My theory is that it comes easier to him because money just doesn't seem to matter to him at all.

Another Bakersfield highlight on this visit was a Mexican restaurant called Las Mulcajetes that specializes in a dish called (what else) a mulcajete. Basically it is a massive cauldron filled with every imaginable kind of meat and fish, along with cheese, chili peppers, cactus, onions, and cilantro, all in this spicy, tomato-y broth. And it's heated to 320 degrees, so when they deliver it to your table, it is bubbling, and it keeps bubbling for the next 20 to 25 minutes. (You have to eat it by spooning out little portions on your plate and waiting for it to cool.) It is honestly the most frightening, dangerous, and delicious thing I have ever eaten. I am thinking about going on a week-long fast before I head to Bakersfield next time so that I have enough room to make it to the bottom of a mulcajete.

Also on our Bakersfield agenda this time was a tour of a massive dairy farm, thanks to Craig's connections, as part of the farm/factory project I'm working on for Jolly Tomato. One of the biggest thrills for all of us was seeing this newborn calf (one hour old) learning to stand for the first time. We watched as it struggled to raise itself up, faltered, raised itself up again, and finally triumphed on its spindly, wobbly legs.

Last, this doesn't necessarily have anything to do with Bakersfield, but it's a recurring theme of our summer so I'm just going to throw it in here: In addition to being the summer of farm tours, this is going to be the summer of Minecraft. Minecraft is a video game that involves building villages and destroying zombies (don't ask). It's nice because it's sort of creative and the boys like to do it together. But it's annoying because it's all Zach wants to talk about in his off time. ("There was this one time? In Minecraft?")

Apparently lots of other people like Minecraft too because there's a whole little cottage industry of Minecraft parody videos, where kids sing songs about Minecraft to the tune of other popular songs. Yes, this really is a thing. Zach will demonstrate now: