A few months back, I wrote a column on the law regarding good Samaritans. It was partly inspired by an incident in my late teens while driving with my good friend, Jake, who thought we had hit someone with his car. For those with a very keen memory, they will recall that Jake was the only one in our car of five teenagers who instantly sprinted back to see if he could help whoever had been hit.
A recent trip to Portland, Ore., opened my eyes to the possibilities of bicycling as a major component of daily transportation, even in the rain-drenched Pacific Northwest. The city is crisscrossed with paved biking trails and connected by a well-planned mass transit system known as the Max, including special hooks for hanging bikes.
About 10 years ago, there was an advertisement on TV for the then-new Gillette Mach3 razorblade. It showed a beefed-out guy shaving his face, wearing nothing but a towel, while admiring himself in the bathroom mirror, just as a jet fighter plane flew overhead and a supermodel ran into the room and touched his face.
What would you plant if you lived in a flat area with very poor drainage? Where the landscape is shaped by limestone or dolomite bedrock, and the shallow soil is filled with carbonate rock? Where there is limited surface water and no above-ground rivers, and where lakes and swamps are present, but the water is marshy and not palatable for drinking? Where you have two seasons, six months of rain and six months dry, and — oh yeah — did I mention you get 100 inches of rain during the wet season?
Realistically, shopping has mostly replaced the spiritual, religious and ideological roots of the holiday season. The U.S. and western world’s economic well-being hinges on it. Until somebody invents a functional, consumerism-less system that still guarantees prosperity, we must shop. Preferably in the San Lorenzo Valley and Scotts Valley, to avoid gargantuan traffic jams at the malls.
When the first rains of the season came down, the forest turned gloomy and the trees looked like druid totems. The seeping skies crushed the optimism out of me, and I began to ramble about my house, muttering in dread, “Winter is coming. Winter is coming.”
**Lucius Lincoln Niesen was born to Bonnie Joanne (Bowman) and Travis Jeffrey Niesen of Scotts Valley at 10:25 a.m. Nov. 9, 2010. He weighed 8 pounds, 13 ounces at Sutter Maternity and Surgery Center in Santa Cruz.
Santa Cruz County Agricultural Commissioner’s Office has released the 2024 Crop Report, announcing that the estimated gross production value of local agricultural commodities reached...