Well amen boy howdy, here we go, first Saturday in January 2025, on our very first time ride through the back canyons of Santa Clarita lore and history. Isn’t it
DEAR FAM & LOOSELY ASSOCIATED FELONS — Drat I know I’m later than an Antelope Valley junior college teen bride sans moral compass with our annual newsletter/Christmas card, but, alas,
Sure hope Santa was kind to you and, more importantly, you were kind to one another over Christmas. C’mon. Untangle yourselves from the blankets and open your peep holes. The
Any time of day or night, we have that ability to just rein our pony to a halt and just lean on the saddle horn, sit on our own personal
I am forever wealthy for the memories I’ve built in this Santa Clarita, from being a skinny and lost kid here in the 1950s, living in the old hotel above
Smiling at all you saddlepals. In some, I see a smidge of stress. Beating against ears and souls, the insistent march of the imagined obligation of the holidays. What say
I am a complete knucklehead for attempting to share a physical impersonation in a poorly written text commentary. So. What else is new? One of my all-time favorite movie scenes
Beautiful first weekend in December here in the riparian Santa Clarita. Perfect light blue skies, dotted with fluffy clouds, cool not cold. What a treat for all the blessings, from
Don’t blame me for your steed giving you that contrary and sideways stare. He or she is sizing you up to see if you put on 20 pounds since last
I am blessed with many Thanksgiving adventures, ridiculous to sublime. My dear niece-like substance Stefanie is now climbed up and over the half-century mark and still is profoundly statuesque and
We’re in the midst of a most splendiferous morn, sky clear, temperatures perfect. Except for a couple of damp spots in our ride back through time, we won’t even need
Since I was a kid, writing for this most amazing, unique and eclectic swashbuckling newspaper, I’ve viewed The Mighty Signal’s editorials as nothing less than gospel. Op-Ed pieces I’ve freshly
We’re going to need a big checklist of items to take along on today’s trail ride through Santa Clarita Valley history. That’d be like a working sidearm, a proper rain
Unlucky and woeful me. I never got the memo. That was four years ago when Joe Biden, the absolute moron sandwich-eating worst leader since Vlad the Impaler, was unanimously elected
Top of a glorious November morning to you, saddlepals and saddlepal-ettes. That suspicious softening in the east? That’d be dawn stretching. Hate to drag you out of your bunks, but
My daughter and I are not mall people. Or Disneyland people. We like music, but not noise. It was about 10 years ago when we were at the Northridge Mall,
I applaud your autumnal holiday spirit but urge those in the gorilla suits to make sure your pony doesn’t mistake you for a grizzer bear. Said horse might buck you
What on Earth is this thing I’ve done? Dare I say — “Again?” All this time, energy that has mysteriously disappeared, the specter that this project will be yet
A warning, amigos. This weekend’s trail ride through Santa Clarita Valley history is not for the faint-hearted. No. That doesn’t mean you get to smack your lips in nubile satisfaction,
So I’m thinking about creating a new high-tech start-up and already I’m faced with debilitating roadblocks. First, there’s the fact that when it comes to things science, I’m dumber than
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