Columnists

The phone rang, as it always does on Sunday afternoon. “Susan,” said the voice on the other end of the line, “this is your mother.” -more-

By Joe Eaton -more-

And what is my view from here? As I look out on my street, Martin Luther King, Jr. Way, I hear more than see it. The rumble of trucks, the screeching of bad brakes as another pedestrian barely escapes the peril of crossing MLK at Stuart Street. I smell it, too. The toxic exhaust from far too many cars streaming through this residential neighborhood, cutting it in half, covering what used to be delicious, edible frontyard blackberries and plums with scary brown dust. -more-

In the autumn of my 19th year, I was living with a group of friends in a row house in the northwest section of D.C. These were poverty times—on days I could put together a solid dollar bill in my pocket, I felt fabulous. I went out looking for a job each day, with no luck. Finally, embarrassed that I was the only one in the house not bringing anything home for meals, I went into a supermarket and tried to shoplift a steak. Bad idea, like our governor used to say in his movies. I made it as far as the doorway past the checkout stands—after that, it was a fairly short drive down to the D.C. Detention Center and then a visit with the night court judge for arraignment. -more-

Ever dream about living in a neighborhood where spreading trees shade well-tended bungalows? Strong neighborhood school, small attractive parks and retail choices just down the street. Enough variety to satisfy every whim so a day can be enjoyed without requiring a car. Wake up on Saturday morning, feed the pets, throw on some clothes and stroll down the street for coffee and pastries or a full breakfast. -more-

One of the most imposing Victorian-era homes in Berkeley, the Boudrow House at Sea Captain Corner was constructed in 1889, when Berkeley, whose population then numbered about 12,000, was a favorite retirement spot for mariners. -more-

I don’t actually hate Norm, I sort of like the guy. It’s nice to see someone on TV that would never have made it on his headshot and a screen-test. Those other folks on Hometime, now them I hate. They’re all cute and American looking and blond. Kachunk, Blam, Kachunk, Blam. Ah, that’s better. There’s nothing like large caliber gunfire to sooth the chakras. -more-

If you find yourself over by Lake Merritt, there’s a nursery tucked into Jean Street on Grand Avenue that’s worth a visit. -more-

Gas Shut-off Valve – Is It Worth It? -more-