By Joe Smith

Every time I hear some gelatinous gentleman on the radio blathering on about the Index of Leading Economic Indicators, about Moody's Index or downturns and upswings in the NASDAQ, my mind inevitably gravitates to the indices which really matter in our lives. The MFCI (Miles From Cappuccino Index) offers a perfect example. To those of us dreaming of bright tropical beaches while we mold away in the bone-softening, brain-fuzzing banks of fog summer regularly deposits here on the North Coast, the real estate here seems dear enough. To visitors from San Francisco and other conglomerations of concrete ...

By Louis Martin

The other day I ran into my friend Bill down at Bob's Steak and Chop House on the corner of Montgomery and California. You know the new place that everyone was wondering about during about a year of construction? What a pleasant surprise when the scaffolding came down to see a classy bar & grill rather than one more set of office suites for attorneys or accountants. Maybe you remember Bill's story about the Broadway strip joints. Well, it seems Bill has a little problem now. The story drew huge readership and Gail his editor wants more pieces along those lines—the hit rate pumps up advertising, pumps up revenue, pumps up Gail....

By Louis Martin

I was having lunch the other day down at Le Central with my friend Bill. He seemed more chipper than the last time I saw him. Then he had just lost a girl friend in a car accident in Sonoma and was struggling with the loss. But now there seemed to be lightness about him and I was glad. "So what have you been up to?" I asked. Bill is a feature writer and a good one. He works for one of our competitors. He hesitated a moment then said, "Hanging out at strip joints. How about you?" Oh, boy, I thought. Bill is in trouble. Then he added, "It's work. I'm writing a story...."

By Joe Smith

We're brushing our teeth in the pool of light cast by the kerosene lamp above her sink, both of us scrubbing away with the ease, the lack of self-consciousness, that often comes with years of living together. The strange thing is, we've never gone on vacation together, discussed the right place for the new sofa or what to get for dinner. We hardly know each other. This is my first visit to the cabin she built in the meadows along the north side of the river, the place where she's raised her kids and gotten divorced....

By Louis Martin

With all the thought on terrorism and war, I decided to see if it were possible to think about anything else. If I succeeded, it would be a first among publications; and if I failed, folks could just shake their heads and say, "darn fool thing to try." But what to think about almost stopped me dead. Was there really anything else? After long consideration and several bouts of depression over my inability to churn up other thoughts, I came up with what I thought to be a fitting topic: Now don't laugh; I came up with the idea of writing an article on fishing....

By Andrea Perkins

Of all the curmudgeons out there with newspaper columns, few are as inexhaustible or irascible as Bruce Bratton. Never watered down, Bratton's opinions have been getting Santa Cruzans all riled up on a weekly basis for the last 31 years. He is not a man who conjures up a luke-warm reaction. People either love or hate him and according to Michael Gant, editor of Metro Santa Cruz, the majority of letters sent to the paper employ phrases like "please can that good-for-nothing Bruce Bratton ..." "But I'm really just the messenger,"says Bratton. It's a lovely Thursday afternoon and Bruce and I are sipping coffee at the Javah House, one of his regular hang outs....