MONTCLARION: April 23, 2010

The more time passes, the younger I get. Last week I wrote about returning to college (with my daughter at the University of Georgia). Well, since then, I’ve been back to high school.

I was one of 40 speakers at Bishop O’Dowd’s annual Career Day Seminar, recently. “If you’re looking to make big money, some day, you’re in the wrong room,” I told the kids right off the bat. “The trial lawyer is down the hall.”

But I held their interest – mostly by talking about travel and sports journalism – not hard news coverage. I showed them the video I promoted in an article on spring skiing a few weeks ago. “This is what I do for a living,” I said as they watched snow skiers trying to jump freezing ponds of slush in their swimwear.  “It’s a story that needs to be told,” I said seriously, “and you could be the next generation to tell it.” Continue reading →

MONTCLARION: April 16, 2010

It was two years ago that my daughter picked the University of Georgia as her college of choice. Little did I know that when she went off to school, I’d be going back, too, in some small way.

It’s one thing to slap a logo on your car and wear your kid’s college sweats – but staying in her dorm room? Eating in the dining hall? Going to her chem class?

On a visit to Athens, GA. last week, I discovered the proverbial “Fountain of Youth”. I rolled back the clock and was 19 again. “Forever Young” as the song goes. Continue reading →

MONTCLARION: April 9, 2010

One of my favorite things about living in Montclair is also one of my biggest fears – being involved in an accident.

I’ve often opined about cars parked on curves, forcing motorists out of their lanes. It’s selfish and dangerous and should be illegal, yet it’s the norm in the hills.

Even more unsettling is the chance you might hit a pedestrian – something reader Greg Case witnessed twice as an Oakland firefighter responding to accidents on Grizzly Peak Road. . “One of these calls was for a man that walked every day up Colton…” he remembers, saying a car met the man on a blind curve and – giving him a wide berth – struck an oncoming vehicle. The pedestrian was caught in the middle and killed almost instantly. He’d been walking in traffic so no charges were filed but a life was lost and you can imagine the motorists’ grief. “Even if you’re in the right,” Case says, you could be “dead right”. Continue reading →

MONTCLARION: March 26, 2010

Everyone loves a parade, it’s been said, but this one was one for the ages.

It was after 11 the other night, when a merry band of St. Mary’s fans led a procession through Moraga. At the front was a fire truck, followed by three squad cars, the Mayor, some others – and me. We escorted the Gaels basketball team to their campus – fresh from the airport and a giant-slaying win over Villanova in the second round of the NCAA Tourney. (Round three is today against Baylor, and our guys are well rested and ready).

But back to the late night procession and rally, in a town that gets sleepy at sundown. It was one of the sweetest things I’ve ever experienced. Continue reading →

MONTCLARION: March 19, 2010

He scours the streets, looking for food.  “Who will show kindness today?” he asks, as his body grows weary from the hunt. There is no rest, really, when you’re homeless – nowhere that’s safe – nowhere that’s nurturing.

And yet, something tells me this cat is “working it”. Like clockwork, he shows up at dinnertime and I acquiesce. Despite the objections of my own feline charge, I put out a spread for this drifter, who seems oddly plump when it’s all said and done. Continue reading →

California may be hemorrhaging jobs, but there’s one opportunity popping up all over the place. I’m talking edible mushrooms – appearing en mass at a forest near you.

The job of a mushroom hunter can be rather lucrative – even for the hobbyist. Just ask reader Blake Gilmore, who’s been picking pounds of Chanterelles and trading them for free food at some fine Oakland restaurants. Who knew a bag of shrooms could be your ticket to a nice night out? Continue reading →