Strange Land
People are lame, but tourists are lamer. This is what I sing to myself (sorry Mr. Morrison) when I’m stuck behind a giant Rivian doing three miles an hour while its driver hawkeyes yet another tasting room on what was once an arterial thoroughfare. Now it’s a permanent sidewalk sale for the “experience economy.”
I hate Millennials. Call me ageist. Don’t care.
I’ve lived in this county long enough to remember when “farm-to-table” was called dinner. Now I’m a stranger in a strange land, called “my home town.”
I expect to be stopped at the county line and asked whether I have reservations.
I do have one advantage over our visitors: Eventually, they go home.
Then again, judging by the real-estate prices, apparently some of them don’t.
Cassady Caution
Petaluma
Where’s the beef?
Well, ain’t this delicious! The Secret Service hid Donald Trump in a catering truck while in Ankara, Turkey, to get him off his Qatari Bribe Airlines jet and safely home on an Air Force C-32A military plane.
When was the last time that catering truck carried 280 pounds of baloney?
Bob Canning
Petaluma
