Columns, hikes, gin tips and more
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This is the place where you can catch new columns on Wednesdays and Saturdays, or get info on my hiking and gin clubs. Or just send me a note.
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Direct from the archives of my facebook
Sure, he was slow to walk with at ballgames, and he told jokes I didn’t understand. But what a grandpa he was. For years, I thought he might’ve been Santa Claus.
What does “hurkle-durkle” mean? (hint: You do it in bed).
To me, it’s like the end of the Jazz Age. Or when Cronkite went off the air. So long, Pac-12. This may be the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.
God and Norman Rockwell still reside in little church halls like this one, where the Kiwanis meet weekly for song and fellowship.
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