In this morning's Santa Clarita web site for news, in both print and video, a link to the one who writes most of their editorials sneered to the effect of "he" missed two major funerals for a golf game and something else. Well, it's baksheesh to bagels Obama not attending the Nancy Reagan funeral is prime in that mix. I haven't read it, though. Mr. Editor has been hot about the bullet train, and I've read those----strong dollars to doughnut holes.

Ah, the small town newspaper style, and I know it from free papers on local stands. The greater Los Angeles area is populated with small towners and their descendants, folks who came to escape snow and prejudice. Also to treat trips to Mammoth and Big Bear as major events and practice prejudice untrammeled by that of others. It's a style in which every sentence is one mildly leading one after another after another. I, aye, yi.

On the wall behind our parking area is a spray paint rainbow that marks where maybe two years ago one of the youngsters rendered a bicycle wheel blue. This morning I saw the wheel in the dumpster. Wheels stop turning but walls usually stay up longer.

One has to be careful about using the term "rainbow", and it reminds me how immature, loser video gamers of male chauvinist fallings (not inclined to write "leanings") have appropriated another word that rhymes with "slash". No linguistic band-aid is big enough by now. After a night of light rain, no rainbow this morning but a touch of blue.