Awhile back, we were having dinner on the back patio. It was a cool evening, lending hope that fall might be a possibility.
The second-best thing about Arnold Palmer was the drink they named after him. Long after people have forgotten his athletic greatness, they’ll be ordering Arnold Palmers at bars, restaurants and oceanside cafes.
J eff Simpson called and had something he wanted to show us, “us” being me and Glenn Hammett, who works for Bakersfield Life, our sister publication.
Jeff Simpson called and had something he wanted to show us, “us” being me and Glenn Hammett, who works for Bakersfield Life, our sister publication.
Two days ago Maggie Baker loaded her parents’ purple 1995 Honda Odyssey van with clothes, photos, succulents she bought at the swap meet, Nana’s blanket knitted a long time ago and her running spikes, said goodbye to her parents and drove away from her home on Round Mountain Road, where she …
Friday morning, I walked by Rabobank Arena. The circus was in town but at 5:15 a.m., the circus was asleep. The parking lot south of Rabobank was filled with red trailers and semis with “Ringling Brothers, the Greatest Show on Earth” written on the side.
Recently I went to fetch a Gatorade in the garage fridge. Charlie was seated in front of the garage door looking up. He was still, the kind of still cats normally demonstrate before flying, paws-first, through the air.
Dad’s desk was squarish, laced with steel, had a faux wood top and rounded edges. It seemed to say, “Move me if you must, but I will not go easily.”
Another goodbye. Garrison Keillor did his last show on “Prairie Home Companion” Saturday night at the Hollywood Bowl. Keillor, 73, is calling it quits after nearly 40 years with the program that has been the pride of public radio.
His black wallet sat on his bedside table. I stared at it and the wallet seemed to stare back as if to say, "What are you thinking, you wallet-packing impostor?"
I was on my way to vote Tuesday when I stopped by the Vons on Stockdale Highway to buy as much Fever Tree Tonic as I could carry without balancing some on my head. It’s gin and tonic weather and I bought the last two four-packs of Fever Tree, the product guaranteed to make a gin and tonic sparkle.
If I hadn’t known summer was here, I was reminded when the air conditioner quit upstairs. The fan worked fine, but it was blowing hot air. I put my hand up to the vent and turned it over and back again. First palm and then the back of my hand. Maybe one side or the other ran hot or cold. Nop…
Ten years ago, a friend gave me his free weights. He was emptying his garage and lacked room. Lacked room and probably had that moment when he stared at the weights and the weights stared back.
I stopped for cookies at Jake’s last week to take care of my fix — chocolate chip, white chocolate chip and potato chip and their new chocolate brownie cookies — and had a chance to catch up with owner Sarah Slayton-Price.
Shafter must have some bad but I haven’t run into it yet. Not yet and not on a recent Saturday night when we drove there for the engagement party of Wade Kotrla and Lindsay Lawrence.
Sunday at 8:45 a.m., I drove to Floyd’s on Chester. They don’t open until 9 on Sunday so I sat in the parking lot for 15 minutes listening to Andrea Bocelli, who can either sing the sadness out of you or the longing in, depending on which way you’re leaning.
I laid an egg recently. If I wanted to do it now, I could lay an egg but I can’t and I don’t need to because one egg is enough for one person to lay in a column.
Last Sunday, I wrote a profile on retired doctor Tom Larwood. I said that in addition to his accomplishments — patients who rued the day he retired, valley fever research and public service work that exceeded all but the saintly — Larwood had a terrific sense of humor and an ever-present chuckle.
If some of the hymns sung in American churches specialize in bringing the “good news,” Robert Provencio, director of the Bakersfield Master Chorale, is brimming with it.