A bat and a mushroom are now official California symbols. I’m less than thrilled | Opinion

Big news, Californians. We now have an official state bat. We also have a state mushroom.

Did we need a state bat and a state mushroom?

Apparently yes. Why else would Gov. Gavin Newsom have signed two separate bills bestowing this honor on the pallid bat and the golden chanterelle mushroom?

If you are less than thrilled about this, I feel you.

I have nothing against bats. In fact, some live under my eaves. And I like cream of mushroom soup, though I have never knowingly eaten a golden chanterelle.

But don’t we already have enough state symbols, though admittedly not nearly as many as the state of Texas, which has 76?

Still, we have so many symbols that no one can quite keep track of all of them. According to the Capitol Museum’s website, we now have “42 symbols and counting.” Except its list does not include the pallid bat, the golden chanterelle or the artichoke, which made the list in 2013. So that would put the count at 45.

It does, however, count the state flag and the state quarter as symbols. Other lists do not, which would make it 43.

Yes, California has a state fabric

You may be surprised by the variety of items on California’s list.

We have a state sport (surfing).

A state frog (the red-legged).

A state gemstone, mineral, rock and soil (bentonite, gold, serpentine and San Joaquin).

A state dance (West Coast swing) and state folk dance (square dance).

A state fabric (denim).

We have four state nuts — almond, walnut, pistachio and pecan. Apparently, no one wanted to upset the nut lobbyists.

Aren’t grizzly bears and redwoods enough?

So what’s next? A state rodent? A state house plant? How about a state pasta?

Call me a curmudgeon, but symbols should be reserved for the truly iconic, like the redwoods, the grizzly bear and the California poppy.

Adding too many to the list is like grade inflation. When everybody gets an “A,” the “A” becomes meaningless.

Also, the whole process seems arbitrary.

For example, the artichoke became the state vegetable as the result of a call-in poll to a Bay Area radio station.

What about the rest of California? Why didn’t we get to vote?

In the case of the pallid bat, a 13-year-old girl, Naomi D’Alessio, was key to making it happen, according to the bill’s sponsor, Sen. Caroline Menjivar, D-San Fernando Valley. Naomi approached the senator with the idea, and several wildlife and conservation organization also went to bat (sorry!) for the pallid.

The golden chanterelle was chosen through a survey run by the California Institute for Biodiversity. It beat out five other varieties: the black trumpet, the candy cap, the king bolete, the lion’s mane, and the Western jack-o-lantern.

Again, why didn’t anyone tell the rest of us about this survey? The jack-o-lantern would have gotten my vote. It has a better name and besides, the golden chanterelle was already taken. It’s been Oregon’s state mushroom since 1999.

That doesn’t speak well of California. With all those other mushrooms out there, we had to go and steal Oregon’s mushroom?

They’ve got boots. We’ve got flip-flops

There is a bigger question here. Why do we need all these symbols in the first place?

If it’s to foster appreciation for the animal, the mineral, the vegetable or whatever in the hope that we might be more inclined to protect it, we’re not doing so well. Look at the grizzly bear. And the redwoods.

Or maybe it’s about bragging rights? We (and Oregon) have golden chanterelles! We have lots of denim! And we used to have grizzly bears!

Or perhaps it’s meant to give lawmakers — and their constituents — a break from serious matters of state and allow them to celebrate some of the Golden State’s many attributes.

In which case, shouldn’t the list include categories that are a little more relatable than bats and fungi?

Here’s an idea. Texas has proclaimed the cowboy boot as its state shoe.

We have an iconic shoe, too: the flip-flop.

How about it, Governor?