As my gal, my son, and I waited in the lobby of John Ascuaga’s Nugget Hotel and Casino in Sparks, Nevada, I thought of my childhood from age 8 to around 15.
The monthly travelogue from the-ever itinerant Maderan, Leon Emo.
Last week marked the 70th anniversary of the end of World War II in Europe and with an early Memorial Day, also last week, we honored our fallen heroes, men and women in all branches of the military who foug
I have taken a lot of people to the desert, and for various reasons, over the past 35 odd (sometimes very odd) years.
We crossed over Tehachapi as usual toward the great Mojave Desert.
I perused faithfully Trib columnist and runner (and editor) Farin Montanez’s writing of her trip to the Northern Mojave and Death Valley in the February 19th edition and immediately became homesick.
The Australian commercial for Bacardi Rum was being filmed outside. As the cameras rolled the main actor walks next to a murky stream and suddenly sees a crocodile.
A year ago on this day, after 28 days in the hospital, I stepped gingerly (with a walker) onto our driveway and traversed, ever so slowly, the distance to the front door and ultimately the couch.