Things have been rather quiet in my Costa Mesa neighborhood for the past fortnight.
Kudos for your candor, Mr. Well-Known Crime Boss With a Lengthy Record.
I recall seeing my father cry only once.
What will God permit us to take with us into heaven?
I first became aware of her work in 1961 as a Costa Mesa High School senior.
I am, (ahem!), prepared to own up to it. Finally.
While on the East Coast this summer my wife, Hedy, and I picked up a hitchhiker.
Have you ever experienced a euphoric, transcendental moment?
Whew. That was close!
Perhaps a line from William Shakespeare's "Hamlet" is appropriate: "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
Connie Francis defined it like no other.
It seems that a recent Orange County Register article reports that on-campus student housing could be in the offing at Orange Coast...
I pause to reflect this commencement season on the fact that I was the first member of my family to earn a college degree.
The news media were all agog last week.
A cup of morning joe is to this writer what a bottle of oxygen must have been to a U-2 jet jockey.
My 2-year-old grandson, Judah, loves to play with his fire engine, dump truck, ambulance (he calls it a "lamb-eh-lance") and police car.
I have a friend who's a drummer –- a really, really good drummer.
Clay Tucker is on a quest.
In my view, it's the most elegant structure in Costa Mesa.
Nine years ago this spring I was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease.
We Christians view Holy Week as a time for self-examination and contemplation.
I've reviewed the data, and the numbers are interesting.
Their given names were Randall, Norbert and Walter, but no one ever called them that.
Whenever I'm asked where I went to secondary school, I'm tempted to say Green Chip High School of Costa Mesa.
I remember summer Sunday evenings spent hiding in the bushes outside a small Pentecostal church on Costa Mesa's Eastside.
In my family, it's bills, bills and more bills. Or more accurately, Bills.
He was a talented sportswriter who could write circles around most of his contemporaries.
One of my 8-year-old granddaughters — I have two — and I recently discussed the merits of school cafeteria food.
As I was growing up on Balboa Island in the late 1940s and early '50s, we never called our slice of heaven Balboa Island.
"I'm in my 60s and have a nice long life ahead of me … lots of plans," says the snooty AARP TV commercial lady.
More than a decade ago my wife, Hedy, and I sat in the Rose Bowl with 100,000 others soaking up a sun-drenched New Year's Day.
I recently saw a group of University of California students in a newspaper photo protesting proposed tuition hikes.
When given the choice, we humans select pleasure over pain almost every time.
In hindsight, I view it as our family's Gold Standard for Thanksgivings.
My pastor preached a sermon recently in which he said it was OK for boys to cry.
I was a student when the Newport-Mesa Unified School District unveiled what was considered at the time the grandest advance in classroom...
Relatives on my mother's side of the family tend to be as restive as a double shot of espresso.
Though I hadn't thought about it in decades, I remember it as if it were yesterday. It's a moment frozen in time.
The Dodgers had hoped to make a deep run into postseason play this year.
It was a glorious early September morning.
My name is Jim. I'm a mall grandparent.
I don't give a moldy fig for celebrities.
Newport Beach, Orange Coast College, Canada, Vancouver Island, Victoria, the Canadian Rockies, Calgary, Montréal, Quebec, New...
Parkinson's disease slows a person down.
"No pain, no gain" was my basic-training drill sergeant's favorite expression during arduous Army workouts.
Are you bilingual?
Does anyone remember a brash young sportswriter by the name of John Sevano, who ruled these pages in the late 1970s?