Today my column is about ugliness. When we bandy about the word, “ugly,” we’re not talking about You-Know-Who’s wife and what she actually looks like, unleashed and naked behind locked bedroom doors. We’re referring to public eyesores in plain view of the beloved citizens of SClarita. Which — say it with me — rhymes with, “Velveeta.”
That would be the petroleum faux cheese spread chemical that oozes and overflows from Chiquita Canyon Landfill onto Highway 126, not that illegal alien lady who mooned the 4:37 a.m. Metrolink headed toward Vancouver last Monday.
As a tribute to Things SClarita Ugly, I’m launching the first-ever SCV ButTugly Awards. That’s pronounced Byoot(as in Montana)-TUG-lee, so’s we don’t get Luwanda, the shapely intern from Mighty Signal Legal in the high heels marching bold as brass with jungle drums and sultry saxophone music in the background into the Mr. SCV World Corporate Headquarters, taking off her glasses, tossing her long, full, Scandinavian blonde hair back and forth in wanton slow motion and sitting on the edge of our desk to chide: “No no no no no, John Boston. You’ve been a very naughty, naughty columnist and I’m afraid we’re going to have to punish you!”
“Luwanda,” as I always say, “Come hither. Do your worst.”
It’s not like I’m blaming the city o’ SClarita for local males wearing those oh-so-yesterday Folsom Prison baggy shorts that leave men with the awkward tan lines. Nor am I blaming our municipal HQ on Valencia Boulevard for inventing the Expose Your Naked, Frolicking & Ample Spare Tire on women post-400 pounds. I’m talking about things sooooooo ugly they could only be designed by a blue-ribbon committee of daft volunteers. You remember the now-ancient quote from 1959 by Sir Alec Issigonis, designer of the original Mini:
“A camel is a horse designed by a committee.”
Sir Alec Issigonis is not to be confused with Sir Alec Isn’t-hegonis.
Sorry.
To make up for that last one, here’s some — actual — and cool car trivia. The original Mini, precursor to the Mini Cooper, was briefly called, “The Mosquito.” A detractor of Issigonis didn’t like his roundish design, calling it, “The Poached Egg.” Anywho. Back to the SCV ButTuglies.
My first goes to a work in progress, the new playground at Old Orchard Park on Lyons Avenue. For an Official USA Tree City, SClarita sure has the ax out for our rare and giant fauna. They cut down gorgeous trees at OOP and replaced them with some eyesore, non-inviting, sharp-angled mutant George Jetson/scifi playground equipment. Why? Did I miss a Signal story about Klingons and their big-eared children landing in Valencia? Actually, this could be some plot by City Hall to COOK our children because if a 3-year-old somehow manages to climb the broiler-hot ladder in August and enters the enclosed round plastic birthing canal, it’s going to be so hot in there that any kid will weigh 11 ounces by the time he slides out the chute’s other end. Of course, with Valencia teeming with 11-ounce children, parents won’t need as many to make a family. And, at 11 ounces, we can squeeze more of them into our overcrowded classrooms.
The next ButTugly goes to the millions of white mini speed bumps, all facing the wrong direction, on Orchard Village. I noticed the city removed the eyesore plastic salamis standing tirelessly erect in a tribute to groupthink/Got a D-Minus in eighth grade pottery class city project designers. What happened to all those giant polymer traffic stoppers? Stored in our valley’s last broken-down cattle pen as a final insult to our Western heritage?
Next beaut of a Butt goes to the bicycle statues in front of Newhall Library. You know? The ones that look like Frankenstein’s monster’s kids ride them to second-grade cadaver class? I’m guessing these modern art homages are supposed to depict Purgatory, where sinful bike riders go to sort out their moral ambivalence. Or, maybe it’s a subliminal message from the city’s greenies, on the lam from DOGE, urging people to give up their cars so the city can buy more solar-powered homeless farms.
A special shout-out ButTugly is bestowed on those callous unfireable individuals in power for attempting to sell out our historical heritage. Kudos for their secretive washing of their hands with invisible bars of soap and their plans to bulldoze our century-plus old and irreplaceable courthouse building on Market Street only to throw up another mini-skyscraper clone and infantile tribute to Main Street Disneyland and Shut Up & Just Live With It New York City slums skyline.
Certainly one cannot mention Ugly without honoring the awful series about cannibalism, “Santa Clarita Diet.” Supposedly, there are a couple video copies on beta that need to be collected and broken into a thousand little pieces with Hillary Clinton’s hammer and, let’s not be skimpy and hand out a Butt to Chiquita Landfill. The once home to the most significant Native American artifact site in the U.S. is nose ugly and pooh-tinky. We’re giving a special award in the shape of a giant breath mint to Castaic’s most odorous trash dump and natural nerve gas creation center.
Anything to thin the growing yuppie herd.
The last recipients are the five following local community leaders —*** *******, ***** ******, ********* Mc*********cutty, ***** ********, and, the off-indicted elected SCV official known only as, “Dense Larry.” I had printed their actual names, but the sultry Luwanda from Legal walked click-click-click down the marble steps in her high heels and perfect gams and exchanged them for asterisks. Then, she breathed steam clouds on my reading glasses. While I was wearing them. If you call The Signal at 259-1000 and order a subscription, Luwanda from Legal may give you their names, cellphone numbers and official ButTugly mouse pad imprinted with their hideous likeness —
Er — ses …
And that’s my column for today.
With more than 11,000 columns and 100-plus awards (119!), Santa Clarita’s John Boston is the most prolific humorist/satirist in world history. Visit his bookstore online at johnlovesamerica.com/bookstore and support American literature by buying stuff…
