I was disappointed last week when the season’s first big El Niño event was scheduled to arrive. Mother Nature lost her day-planner this year. After a spring lasting 18.3 minutes,
Top of the Saturday morn to you, fellow history trail riders. On this very expedition, we’ll be exploring some interesting back roads. If we were to assign a theme for
To earn a buck, I’ve donned three piece suits or farmer bibs. An epoch ago, it was a Saugus summer, hotter than Ella Langley in a cowhide bikini and partial
Well. Let’s see. Saddlehorn is facing toward the sky instead of the sprinklers, so that’s a good start. The time vortex continuum seems to be humming happily. It’s Saturday. What
I’ve noticed a disturbing trend. I’ll not accuse the addendum health care helpers going all Beelzebub. However. At the very least, they’re flirting with ninja. Chiropractic. Dental. Henry Mayo Newhall
Heavens to Betsy Wrage, please. With sugar atop. Will somebody tell me it’s not October already and, worse, it’s the October in the advanced year of 2026? Do you have
Today, my Mr. SCV column is about weight. I may have too much of it, which may be OK because Halloween is right around the corner and I could tell
Heavens, saddlepals. To where has this 2026 disappeared? Last trail ride of September. October and Halloween are right around the corner and we’re already into autumn. As my dear, dear
I have a wild, Irish friend. In life’s humdrummia, where others crawl an inch a lifetime, Brian Lally galloped a thousand years ahead, madcap, laughing, weeping, making friends, taking no
I can’t recall quietly sitting on the edge of you trail riders’ yuppie waterbeds and whispering, “Shhhh. There-there. Just close your eyes and sleep in this morning. Today’s trail ride
I had the most entertaining call last week. A dear old pal phoned. He was editing some journalism drivel and, no. No need to jump to snarky conclusions. This has
There’s many stops to make this week, amigos. We’ve got Rudolph Valentino to say howdy to — well. Maybe more of an adios. There’s bandits, Geronimo, blowhards, the first local
Years ago, I wrote a pretty good novel if I do say so myself. “The Melancholy Samurai” is about a regular guy who’s given the opportunity to rid the world
I’ve oft said how quickly time passes. Seems like just yesterday we were riding in an unusually cold January. Now, forecasted is a rather pleasant Labor Day weekend with a
My dopey sister-like substance Leslie’s kids are all grown up. Her oldest is still effortlessly and movie star gorgeous. Yet, technically, she becomes a senior citizen next month. Returning for
Well howdy there, you late sleepers and big dreamers. C’mon. Get your little sleepy latte-sipping selves into some old jeans and comfy boots. We’ve some trail-riding ahead. On this morning’s
Downtown Newhall’s fire early Monday was many things, all incongruous. How can a raging fire destroy our heritage in this SciFi-sounding year of 2026? Shouldn’t this be an issue of
Top of the morning to you all, saddlepals. C’mon. Let’s climb out of those condos and overpriced mansions you bunkhuggers. It’s time for a brand new trail ride into the
Most of us have seen those YouTube videos of psycho women on a rampage. Like rabid hippos, they attack, fists flailing and fleshy tummies exposed. Blue language spews from high-pitched
Nice morning for a trail ride into yesteryear, dear saddlepals. We’ve got porn stars and outlaws, cross-dressing baseball players and one of the bigger trailer park brouhahas on record. There’s