I think this is a first. We’ve got Satan himself scheduled to appear on our trek into yesteryear. I know that’s hard to top, but there’s also Superman, Columbo and
If someone told me when I was a scrawny, scared student at Placerita Junior High in the early 1960s that I’d grow up to become many things, including a historian,
Labor Day’s behind us and lovely, lovely Santa Clarita autumn is ahead. Positively amazing how time just keeps slipping. It’s almost 2026. I suggest we need a gallop into yesterday
One million B.C., coincidentally the same time to the minute Raquel Welch appeared as that shapely Neanderthal babe in the movie of the same name, I was applying for a
Schindler “The Swindler” was arguably the Santa Clarita Valley’s greatest con man. We’ll be saying howdy to him. John Raggio couldn’t take it with him, the “it” being a fortune
Much to my undying shame, I recently discovered I was not doing my part in being an American. Oh, I vote. And when I do, whether it’s for dog catcher
Well. What do you think. Should we just stumble out to the den, turn on the cable and see if there’s a John Wayne movie on or should we slip
“Ow?” I have a dear doctor pal who has this intriguing habit of looking up not just the meaning of words, but their origins. It’s both annoying and educational. Plus
A warm — but hopefully not too darn warm — and Western howdy to you, saddlepals. C’mon. Up and out of those bunks and don’t even think about trying to
This is not exactly a new idea of mine. I was a teen when it first hit me that what my riparian community desperately needed — besides shoes and fire
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.