Santa Clarita nuclear holocausts? Yup. A rather tacky “Nuts & Bolts” party? Mmm-hmmm. Outlaws? An entire passel. One of my favorite phrases to annoy my lady friends: “Farmerettes?” Amen boy
Byron Wardlaw and I were close chums in high school, Hart, to be specific, Forever Home to The Mighty Indians and not those nuevo bird flu hawks (lower case). Byron
Positively and simply staggering, how time flies. First Saturday of August. Each of you ask yourselves what you’re doing with your lives. Make a slight face. Shrug. Say, aloud, “Well
I am miffed at yet another cherished American institution that has fallen by the wayside. I’m talking about the Chinese fortune cookie. My fetching daughter and recent college grad das
Amen boy howdy. The thermometer gods have been most kind so far this July. Almost August and it’s been downright pleasant and then some. We’ve a most interesting trek ahead
The other day I was trying to figure out if ever, in my lifetime, I had to sprint back into the house three times for things I had forgotten. I
Hope you didn’t have one of those “Lost Weekend” benders of a Friday night, dear Santa Clarita saddlepals over the age of 21. Top of a July Saturday morn to
Dear City o’ SClarita City Council — Pals! I write today to beseech you to cease and desist in your search for a new planning commissioner. Why? You have in
Well. Somehow, here we are, summer. Belly of the Beast. Hope you don’t mind. I’ve installed personal equestrian misters to spray a gentle ghosting of refreshing water over us as
My first run-in with war was when I was 5. I was playing in the living room and my handsome young father was in the overstuffed chair, reading the newspaper.
You’ll excuse me if I’m still a bit sappy and bursting with pride. But I feel rather lucky to be an American. We’re not perfect as a country or a
Once, I snapped at Ruth Newhall. In the newsroom. Strangest thing? I am here, alive, and able to talk about my death-inviting stupidity. It was about 50 years ago and
Top of June’s last Saturday morning to you, dear saddlepals. I’d step into the entryway, but I’ve got the spurs on and, no offense, I’d rather not leave those thousands
I’ve grown fond of publicly writing the phrase, “as I begin to approach middle age.” It irritates many literal thinkers with sound math and logic skills. They note if I’m
Awaiting us this fine June Santa Clarita morn is a most interesting trek, filled with ghosts, local movies and the local Uth Am River. We’ll also tip our cowboy toppers
Top of a fine June morn, o fellow riders into the outback of local history. We’ve a most interesting trail ahead, filled with gunfights, “grizzer” bears and one of the
Hardly a day goes by where I don’t think of my dad. One of the great gifts of my lifetime was being able to spend time with him his final
A happy first Saturday of June, in the Year of our Lord, 2025. I put, “Year of our Lord” just to irritate any ACLU attorneys who happen to be trailing
Oh. And regarding the headline? Not to forget the birthday of Newhall Land (& Farming Co.) Eesh. O the months turn into years. Seems like we were all making our
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
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