Opinion
The lead sponsors of the of the bipartisan Journalism Competition & Preservation Act (JCPA) announced progress on a critical bill for local news.
Last week I wrote about our neighbor, Cash Whiteley, who is having a hard time, and has been for a very long while. The 59-year-old unhoused man has been suffering with a shockingly gruesome open wound on the left side of his face for four years. The medical runaround is quite literally killing him.
Over my previous six-plus years as reporter and columnist with the COURIER, mine was a simple existence: I worked mostly from home, in flip-flops and shorts, researched and wrote my stuff, and helped in the office with copy editing on Thursdays. Now as editor I’m in the office every day and must wear pants and shoes. The horror.
Before the monsoon threat outlook flashed across screens this week, it was clear from the massive cumulus clouds hanging over the San Bernardino Mountains that this range was about to get a much-needed, regenerative drenching. As important was a different cloud formation that a year ago exploded dark and ominous. The Antonio Fire’s thick, mushrooming pyrocumulus formation signaled that a small patch of San Gabriel foothills was getting a much needed, regenerative burn.
Do you ever look at something or someone, notice your knee jerk reaction, and then pivot to a different angle, take another view? This is what a man named Mike gave me permission to share.
There is something quite magical about beautifully designed spaces. We may not be able to articulate it like an architect or designer, but we know it when we see it.
Stocks worldwide have declined steadily from their all-time highs reached at the start of 2022.
I’ve spent a lot of time on planes over the years but had not flown since before the pandemic.
In my exceedingly optimistic, starry-eyed May 27 column about my then upcoming wedding [“Love and marriage: not just for kids anymore”], I wrote, “I can’t see how our in-person partnership will bring anything other than more joy to our kids and us.”
There are days when I feel I need to retire from retirement. Most days I feel busier than I’ve ever been. I can’t say that my days are filled with rewarding, satisfying, or noteworthy activity, but I’m busy enough that I wonder how I ever had time for a real job.
I was intrigued by professor Marks’ opinion piece on water conservation in the July 22 edition of the COURIER. I have known professor Marks since I was a teenager and have great respect for him.
If a time traveling stoner had materialized in my garage and told my pimply, awkward 15-year-old self that marijuana would one day be legal and sold in upscale cafés and dispensaries across Southern California, I would have questions, not good ones likely, but still, questions. Probably along the lines of, “How much is a lid?” or “Am I cool in the future?”
Recently the Democratic Club of Claremont issued a resolution in support of Larkin Place and sent it to our city council members and the COURIER, which published it in its June 10, 2022 issue. Since then, the council voted on a vehicular access easement for Larkin Place.
Thomas Jefferson famously declared, “Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter.” Jefferson knew local papers were vital to a thriving democracy, and that notion is as true today as it was at our nation’s beginning. Americans know it, too.
It was a new day. I wasn’t sure if it would be a good one. At least not at first.
Late Sunday evening I said a final goodbye to my friend Scott Quackenbos. His sweet, immeasurably strong mother Nancy was holding her son’s hand at the family home in Claremont. He’d been non-responsive since early that day.