Well, one would have to presume that Santa and his reindeer have arrived safely home escorted no doubt (in this day of age) by two stealth fighter jets or a couple of drones.
Thoughts on happenings in the city of Madera.
If you’re reading this, though the day isn’t over, the Mayan prediction of the apocalypse has foretold one thing: Their calendar is wrong.
Red Line, green line. Or was that a light in the childhood game? Anyway, I have noticed in the infamous, but well-read Red Line lately that the items seem to be a little less negative.
Number one again. Yes, at the top of the list for dirtiest cities in America is Fresno.
Lost in the fog. Stepping out of my truck in front of Black Bear Diner early yesterday I found myself the only patron a little after 6 a.m.
Pickin’ nits. Maybe, but I try not to do any shopping this time of year in a store that doesn’t at least have one sign that says Merry Christmas.
It had been a wild summer. In fact it had been two wild, eye-opening, inspiring, world-awareness grasping summers in the city. The Summer of Love was over.