Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Robert Ray "Red" Robinson 1921-2012
Red Robinson passed on Sunday evening, surrounded by family and friends at his home in Carlsbad, California on the eve of his and Grannie's 70th wedding anniversary. Papa generated more than a few namesakes, my son among them. The "Red Dog" helped incorporate Carlsbad in the 1950s, planning and building out much of the town's infrastructure. His strength of character, intelligence and generosity marked all the best things that North County has to offer. A pillar on the beach, Papa's enthusiasm for volleyball led to the creation of the Ocean Street Volleyball Association and countless games played just for the fun of it. Papa was a man of a thousand stories, each more enthralling than the next. From his daredevil flights transporting plumbing supplies to the inlands; from his time on the gridiron pairing in the backfield with Jackie Robinson; from his association with the most interesting time in California politics; Papa's most telling stories remain the ones he's left behind: his children, his grand children and his great grand children. A party is set for Saturday afternoon in his name. And a paddle-out to spread the ashes in memory of his birthday is set for July.
The North County Times obituary is posted here.
One such story.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Baby On The Way
The beginning of the end. Welcome to the wild world of urban parenthood.
If you are in the Bay Area or nearby, I've ridden in this truck. It is a good truck. A much loved truck. I mean, it's no Suzuki (certainly no Datsun) but it seems like it's the next best thing.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Quote Of Del Dia
"Hey, man, you got to let Joe Flacco know we're trying to win the Super Bowl around here! He's at home riding a skateboard. Somebody's got to let him know what the deal is."
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Monday, January 16, 2012
The Other Side
While meandering along the lonely boulevards of Los Angeles a few weeks ago I was unexpectedly buoyed by the site of some New York Cosmos stickers slapped onto one of the street signs. Something of the pulsating vitality of my adopted home came flooding through my visual nostrils and I could breathe a touch easier. Skip ahead to this morning, trudging through the cold Midtown avenues my bookmark slipped out from the pages, warming my frozen gut with a memory of more comfortable times. The grass is always greener as they say.
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