My family has kept a home in Vallejo since the early 1940’s. I have been to bowling tournaments, spaghetti feeds and 4th of July parades. I remember when the military was here and then again when they were not. I even remember shopping with my Grandmother in a lovely shop located on a bustling Georgia street when I was a boy. I have seen Vallejo up, down and even sideways. Through all of that I still get a warm feeling when I pull off the freeway, after a long day at work, knowing that I am finally home. V-Town, for all of her reputed back and forth, is such a great place to live. I am proud to say that I am personally responsible for convincing two of my friends to look for and purchase homes here. They in turn have brought their friends who are happy, as well, with their decision to move. As you know, Vallejo has a lot going for it.
Saturday’s are no exception. Being the ever constant advocate for our fair city, I invited a friend whom I met at Burning Man a few years back. I wanted to give her the whirlwind tour of Saturday’s best in V-Town. Time was limited so we Continue reading “Saturday and Back Again”
My mother says that I was born on a glorious sunny Sunday. I can only imagine that after 9 months of my punching and kicking even a stormy Saturday would have been a relief. So whether I was conditioned as a child to believe that sunny Sundays were my special day or that they are just generally special makes-me-no-never-mind. I like sunny Sundays. Today was no exception. While the tailcoat of winter is still dragging its way through our little burg this sunny day heralded a less body numbing future to be sure.
Breakfast today was going to be a bit more formal and reservations were required. Having slept in until 6, I found that I still had plenty of time to read the news, contribute significantly to the perishment of today’s press pot coffee, Continue reading “League of Chefs or Who likes Sunday More Than Me?”
It was an odd morning to be sure. It had rained heavily the night before and the power on my block went out sometime mid-morning. Not strange occurrence for Vallejo as sometimes the odd, old bits of our fair city, well, just break. Turns out the power wires had touched a tree top, just up the street from me. Odd, I thought, heavy rain and a tree fire. All was well in an hour’s time but in the meantime, still without my morning meal and the coffee pot not working, I decided to troddle off to someplace new as is my latest want.
It turns out I wanted to go to Maggie’s on Benicia Road. Now here was a corner of Vallejo that I had rarely visited. Actually I have one story to tell about this Continue reading “At Maggie’s – T is for Technique”
I live in Central Vallejo, I guess. West of the freeway and quite near Tuolumne. The neighborhoods here are quiet and tree lined with an almost systematic rollup of the sidewalks every evening around 7. As far as I can tell, Vallejo is still home to the working family. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers tend to close our drapes and turn out the lights closer to dinnertime than midnight. The sound of a car traveling down the street at 9 p.m. gets me up to poke my nose at the window wondering what shenanigans may be happening. A backfire on the freeway Continue reading “DON’T SKIP SCOTTY’S”
It was cold, and foggy with a bit of a drizzle, and even though my hens had taken to Daylight Savings Time better than I have, they are laying fresh eggs again and homemade omelets are the best, I opted instead to go out for breakfast. Now I must confess to being S.A.D. during the winter months. (Seasonal Affect Disorder.) During the winter I am less-than-happy, listless and sometimes even down right grumpy. But once that button called Spring has been punched my mood pegs the opposite side of the meter and I am ready to get out of the house.
That’s how it was this morning. I was hungry and wanted both to get out of the house and have a good breakfast. Continue reading “Way Down Yonder”
I moved to Vallejo in the summer of 2002. This is not to say that this is my first time here. My father, just a teenager in the early 40’s, moved here with his mother, my grandmother, and his brother during the early part of the war. Her sister, my father’s aunt, who had moved here the year before, convinced her sister to close up shop, pack up the boys and ‘Go West.’ “There are jobs to be had on Mare Island,” she said, “good jobs.” My father’s father, my grandfather, was a late draftee in the war and came to Vallejo later, sometime in 1946.
The house where I now live, and happily call home, is where my father’s aunt resided since 1946. The house built in 1942, Continue reading “The Beginning of the V-Town Social Club”