Since I’ve been a kid, I’ve loved this time of year in Santa Clarita. It can be perfect weather for lazy hammock time or to sit on a hillside and watch
Save for my morning health elixir of warm water, juice from an entire lemon and apple cider vinegar followed by stumbling around the kitchen making
Hey you saddlepals you. As often is the case, winter was a gentle achoo and we’re in the midst of our 20-minute-long spring. We’ve a most interesting trail ride ahead, filled with
When I was a boy, and all through my life, no matter what the world’s insanity screamed, there was always the sanctuary of sports. Playing
I can’t recall ever saying in these introductions: “Don’t bother to climb out of your bedrolls. This weekend’s trail ride into SCV history is just plain, spit, boring.” Never going
This is rather embarrassing, but I’ve never actually been in a militia. I played Army Guys during the formative age demographic of 4-41. This was
Top of a Santa Clarita morning to you, dear saddepals and saddlepal-ettes. I brought my own coffee and a maple cake doughnut for today’s trail ride, and I think I’ll ride
It’s my friend Laura Raynor’s birthday tomorrow, Saturday. Friends are flying in, some are here already. From all over the world, calls keep coming, asking
Did all y’all remember to set your watches forward an hour last weekend? No? Then you have to set them forward seven hours as punishment. That’ll teach
When I was a kid a seeming 20 minutes ago, my enlightened school district over the hill in Chatsworth saw fit to terrorize my second-grade
Mercy me. And you guys, too. We’re in for an absolute epic trail ride through Santa Clarita history. Don’t believe me? It’s in the headline, and Signal
A friend of mine once noted: “We sometimes learn humility through humiliation.” I’m not sure that’s true. I suspect we learn humiliation from humiliation. I own
How quickly time goes, saddlepals. Here we are, plumb run out of Sundays in February 2021. After this weekend, there won’t be any more until
When the Big One hits, there’s a lovely ensemble of perfectly awful places in which to be stuck. Jail’s one of them. C’mon you bunk
There was a cold snap Christmas Eve, 1872 Chicago. The Windy City’s hosted more frigid events than you could count on one hand, had you
OK, saddlepals. I know Valentine’s Day is — well. I was GOING to say tomorrow, but you might be reading this in Hungary next spring.
There is an entire passel of punchlines of what to give someone for their 102nd birthday. Creamed corn. Store-bought teeth. Use of their bodily functions.
Odds are good I’ll never win a billion-dollar lotto. But, through weddings and births, divorce and death, I’ve been beyond lucky to have a friend.
There is no crying in baseball. There are no soy products in cowboy time traveling. Learn it. Live it. Memorize. One of my valued snitches
Dear President Trump — First, how the heck ARE you? Hope you’re catching up on much-needed rest and all’s hunky dory with you, your fam
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