The Two-Stroke Solution

The jet-pack blower is more difficult to use (than previously imagined) but still essential.

Brush clearing, biomass reduction, defensible space or xeriscape. They’re all one in the same.

Or maybe not. Defensible space has to do with cutting back and clearing. Xeriscape is about planting and cultivation. But they both relate to the yard and, more broadly, the landscape, managing growth, and our most precious limited resource: rain and . . . → Read More: The Two-Stroke Solution

On Gaining a Golfer…in Six Days Time.

Crazy how a kid’s mind works. How the switch gets flipped. The light turns on. The engine revs and the wheels start turning.

If you’d asked me a week ago — last Saturday — if I could envision playing golf with my nine-year-old son and my golf-disinterested wife, I would have nodded politely and said, . . . → Read More: On Gaining a Golfer…in Six Days Time.

On Golf and the Search for “The Friendly Confines.”

Pajaro Valley's has the kind of generous fairways that invite walking.

“It’s expensive, time consuming and frustrating. But if you’re interested, I’ll support you 100 percent.”

– On being told that someone — a friend, acquaintance, relative — is interested in taking up golf.

Been thinking mostly how frustrating the game is. Even the Santa Cruz County municipal venue, DeLaveaga Golf Course, seems strikingly hard, particularly . . . → Read More: On Golf and the Search for “The Friendly Confines.”

Midsummer Baseball

Clayton Kershaw has 134 strikeouts in 103.1 innings. His ERA is 1.92.

This is for friends and relatives back east, New York and Boston, those in proximity to the Munson-Nixon line (Westchster, Worcester, you know who you are) and assorted environs. Also for a few friends in LA, but I’ll get to you in a minute…

For those back east, I recall how on those hazy, hot . . . → Read More: Midsummer Baseball

Oh, Deer

buckonthehighway

I can never remember the season when deer are supposedly more active — spring, fall, the rut? — and, by extension, more of a threat to drivers. But I do know that hardly a few days pass that I don’t see one or two on or near a road.

Driving my daughter home from evening . . . → Read More: Oh, Deer

Couple’s Therapy in Berkeley

Played the trifecta in Berkeley last weekend. How often do you have a chance to do that? You line up three events — say, dinner, concert and single-night stay in a boutique hotel — purchase your tickets, make your reservations, outsource your children, and the thoroubreds come across the line just like that: one, two, . . . → Read More: Couple’s Therapy in Berkeley

Sunset at Cinnabar Hills: Stuck Behind Flip-Flop and Doughboy

The fourth on the Canyon at Cinnabar Hills.

Broke out the golf clubs for a quick nine late last Sunday afternoon. Nine holes is vastly underrated as a sporting experience and, who knew, if the course was wide open, I might get in as many as 12 or 13, strategically counterscheduled as it was against live 49ers’ football.

Well, it wasn’t going to . . . → Read More: Sunset at Cinnabar Hills: Stuck Behind Flip-Flop and Doughboy

Inspiration (and a possible anthem) for cyclists

bend-in-road

On the road to rediscovering the past, I’ve been listening to a lot of John Fogerty and Creedence Clearwater Revival.

“Up Around the Bend” is sort of a classic road-as-metaphor-for-life composition but it’s speaking to me on an entirely different level. It’s hitting me in my nascent road-cyclist core. As inspiration. As anthem. The opening . . . → Read More: Inspiration (and a possible anthem) for cyclists

Sk8er Boi, the electric car-charging app

skateboarders-1

I’m finding new virtues in skate kids these days. I’m practically ready to champion their cause.

And by “their cause,” I’m refering to their apparent aimlessness, their venial vagrancy, their trifling trespassing.

Yes, skate kids are if not my new best friends my occasional savior. They are those mostly shaggy teens who you see bumping . . . → Read More: Sk8er Boi, the electric car-charging app

The Old Man Down the Road

fogerty

Full appreciation and mild fascination with John Fogerty’s music are, admittedly, destinations to which I’ve arrived late in life. Not entirely sure what to attribute this to, or why I waited so long.

It could possibly be the “fundamentalist effect,” which certainly explains why, despite always enjoying The Grateful Dead, I could never classify myself . . . → Read More: The Old Man Down the Road

Lost Cat Robert is a writer, marketing consultant, entrepreneur and former editor and publisher who has recently relocated to Los Gatos and the Santa Cruz Mountains. The opinions expressed here by him and other contributors are their own.

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