Tyler Fox. Santa Cruz. Photo: Ryan CraigTyler Fox, gold rushing. Photo: Ryan Craig

Gold. It’s kind of important. Over a century and a half ago, when James K. Polk was absolutely ruling D.C., gold was discovered in California’s wild frontier. Lots of it. Mind you, at that point in time, this stuff was more than just a glowing compliment to your gorgeous wife’s finger. It was a way out of poverty. It was a dream. Thousands of red-blooded Americans abandoned everything they had to join the gold rush. Some got rich. Some got sick. Some got dead. All for gold.

Since then, generations of Americana have shifted the focus away from gold. Nobody’s dropping anything to search for gold anymore — not even a half-eaten B.L.T. These days, oil is the natural resource that fuels dreams. Fuels quite a few things actually. So why dig for gold when you could drill for oil? Jewelry ain’t flying nobody to the moon. Gold is over.

Here we see Tyler Fox in Santa Cruz, cloaked in the bygone American dream of gold. Our boy Polky has been dead since 1849 and his recent predecessors have been all about the crude stuff. But let’s face it — an oil-slicked sky wouldn’t look nearly as lovely.