The grass is green, (at least for now) and the kids are taking to the field. It's baseball time, folks, our national pastime. Is there anything more relaxing than taking in a day game? Watching a group of 5- to 6-year-olds bumble and stumble along? Turning a routine ground ball into a comedy of errors?
A strange new thing has been happening to me as of late. I run into various business owners, town officials, and people in positions of power in our town and realize that most are my former schoolmates – or people of my generation. When did I become an adult? Or more adequately, when did my peers – the people I grew up with in this town – take the reins and call them their own? It is both a proud and scary moment to realize that this is my generation's time. Our time to be parents and raise families. Our time to ...
If I can be so bold as to speak for the other Grammar Nazis around the world – call us what you will – but I will continue to goose step until you learn the difference between "there," "their" and "they're."
This last month I took on a challenge – one that most mortal humans these days would fear to try. Take six teenagers to a Taylor Swift concert? No, I'm not that crazy. Go to Wal-Mart on a Thursday night to buy shampoo? I'd prefer greasy hair. Take a date to watch 50 Shades of Grey? No. Obviously I went alone. These things all fail in comparison to the monumental task I achieved the month of February.
I come from a long line of people good at sneaking out of parties. My grandfather Jack Cunningham was considered by many to be the Michelangelo of the Party Sneak Out. I'm pretty sure I once witnessed my brother Richie completely vaporize from a hallway at my Aunt Carol's house – only to reappear on his couch at home to catch the start of the 11 p.m. SportsCenter.
Ash Wednesday has passed, and Lent has arrived. The religious custom of Lent for Christians, is one that involves a 40 day period of prayer, penance, repentance, and atonement, in preparation for Easter Sunday. As a good Catholic boy, I will try my best to observe this period by cutting several things out of my life but some things – things that should probably cut out, and not just during Lent – shall continue. Here is a quick list of these:
Valentine's Day is here once again, waving its finger in everyone's face. Commercial on top of commercial make one thing clear – here is what Love requires and here is where you can buy it.
Sunday is the Super Bowl. That means only one thing for this pigskin lover: The Year of 2015 can officially begin. I don't turn my calendar until sports' version of "The Big One" is complete.
I went to the movies twice this week – and watched the same movie.
Ladies, if you take the time to dress your cat or dog in little costumes, this is why you are single…
Is there anybody under the age of 25 that doesn't have a tattoo? It has become the guy's earring of this era with just one difference – you can't take it out. I know my indifference towards the current trend of arm sleeves and neck tats is a bit short sided, considering the fact that I have tattoos.
It was Christmas time of last year when Jason Campbell and myself kicked around the idea of a "Manteca to a T"-type column. We had no idea if the Bulletin would go for it. That was up to Dennis Wyatt. We had no name for it. That was also Dennis Wyatt's stroke of genius. We had no idea what It should be – or what it could become – and we still don't.
EDITOR'S NOTE: This column features comments from Chris Teicheira's Facebook page. The Bulletin isn't responsible for his friends' broken sentences, poor grammar or general lack of interest in punctuation.
EDITOR'S NOTE: Manteca to a T columnist Chris Teicheira is in Costa Rica. In his absence, he's asked Mark Condit to share his thoughts about growing up in The Family City. Worth noting, Condit has purposely misspelled Mick Founts' name wrong throughout this piece for reasons only he knows.
Does anybody remember the actual moment they found out Santa wasn't real?
There is nothing more fruitless and futile, than an argument with someone on Social Media. A person can easily find themselves embroiled in a 3 day hash slinging competition – and who has the time for that?...Well, I do!
Editor's note: Chris Teicheira asked his readers to post some of their thoughts about memorial Day.
It happened again. Somebody used "that" word right in front of me. They didn't even have the tact or shame to say it under their breath. He just blurted it out in mixed company, as if his level of comfort with it somehow gave him license to spread it to others in our community. It is a word I despise as much today, as the day I heard it for the first time. It is a word so ugly and pervasive, it should required to carry a bar of soap when using it.
Thank you for always making the edges of my fried eggs crispy. Thanks for letting me read an entire Heathcliff book to you in one sitting – and do it each day – because I needed to practice my comedic timing at age 7. Pretending you didn't notice I was watching Saturday Night Live in my bedroom, when I should've been in bed asleep. For giving my 3 awesome siblings...the time you allowed me and my friends to . . . wait a second!.
In anticipation of the upcoming Manteca Hall of Fame dinner, I was perusing the Hall of Fame website last Friday night.
If you are a lifelong Mantecan then undoubtedly you've developed a little Manteca Entitlement along the way, whether it's riding the slides at Oakwood for free because you knew the right people … or that you can turn left onto Yosemite when leaving MHS if you really, really need Taco Bell … or the expectation that your coffee will be on the house at Johnny's (Ed's Patio for you pre-East Union Baby Boomers). These entitlements are part of the wonderful nuance of being raised in a small town, but when you begin to rely on these entitlements and ...
The list for Manteca's newest Hall of Fame inductees is out and I was excited to see that not only did I recognize every name but I have broken bread with more than a few of them. I'm no spring chicken and have had that short internal dialogue we have from time to time – am I getting old? The answer is a resounding "Yes!" But as I perused the list of 2015 inductees, I felt something besides old. I felt lucky; lucky that I've had the opportunity to have had several of these inductees in my life ...
Spring is for lovers, or in a recent case I encountered, spring is for high school kids to park in orchards, and spend a little quality time with their sweetheart. Is there a more time honored Manteca tradition than a good old "spring orchard fling" when you are 17?
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