
John Boston | Goodbye, Good Riddance, to Yet Another Summer
Fall is here. I can feel it. Is it because I’ve been good that the forecast calls for Rain, my dear friend, Rain, to visit today? Would that be ducky,

Fall is here. I can feel it. Is it because I’ve been good that the forecast calls for Rain, my dear friend, Rain, to visit today? Would that be ducky,

Offering a beautiful post-full moon howdy to you, saddlepals. And happy autumn while we’re at it. Took its darn time getting here. Before you know it, it’ll be sweater weather, although, come to think of it, I’ve never seen anyone in the saddle on a trail ride wearing a sweater. Hope I don’t, either.

“If you put the federal government in charge of the Sahara Desert, in five years, there’d be a shortage of sand.” — Milton Friedman Since the first issue of The

Several years ago, I was tooling down the coast with my closest family member. We stopped at Cambria for the night in a charming inn. I’ll never forget the place.

Dear riparian friends, neighbors and saddlepals. Tip of the terribly expensive O’Farrell and welcome to another trek through the vortex of Santa Clarita past.

“For most of the history of our species, we were helpless to understand how nature works. We took every storm, drought, illness and comet personally. We created myths and spirits

Recently, Mike Kuhlman — if that’s his real name — was appointed as the new superintendent of the William S. Hart Onionized School District. The vote was 5-zip. Or so

Hey. Is that all y’all moping sheepishly about, pre-coffee Sunday morn? C’mon. Hop up in those saddles. You sage riders who know their way around a horse can just wiggle a boot into the stirrup and swing a leg over the saddle without spilling a drop of latte.

No. 36 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal By John Boston Special to The Signal You can endorse the wrong candidate. You can come

Besides the usual, “Die Polish Fake Cowboy Scumbag!!” fan mail, I like getting letters from readers. I received two recently that were particularly heartwarming. One was from Signal reader and

How in Heaven’s Name did it get to be September? Wasn’t it just January 20 minutes ago? Fall feels just around the corner.

In our 100 years of publishing a newspaper, some of our most popular features are stories on animals. My humble opinion, we’re all connected at some level to each other

I like the idea of Greenland as a 51st state, protectorate, territory or even as a leper colony. Dear me. It’s 2019. The closest thing we have to a leper colony

A humble padre up the coast at Mission Santa Buenaventura made a historic decision back on Sept. 3, 1795. The Catholic Church was down to two sites to build their newest mission — either in San Fernando or Santa Clarita. Father Vincent de Santa Maria made the call and we lost.

Only the coldest and most acrimonious of hearts can resist reading a main staple of journalism: The Animal Story. And, we, The Signal, being a member of the heartstring-tugging emotionally

When I was 7, we had the strangest holiday. It was called Christmas. It was January 1958. I so clearly remember returning from Christmas vacation, hunched over a wooden desk.

Tipping my terribly expensive but utilitarian O’Farrell hat toward the direction of you ladies and offering a positive “Howdy” to the menfolk. What say we all climb aboard the thousands of ponies I’ve brought?

No. 33 in a series of 52 commemorating the 100-year anniversary of The Signal How many words has this paper printed in a century? Rough guess — it’s in the

Some may point a bony, quivering finger and warn that dire things approach. Fistfights nationwide erupt over open borders, the proper amount of melanin in our epidermal levels, gun control,

Well a happy Sunday in August to you, dear saddlepals. Hope you survived Saturday night and still possess your car keys, spouse, loved one and most of your brain cells from the carousing.