What up, Chroniclers? You got yer cup? Okay, let's go. What a week. Great friends, great conversations, and somehow seven days disappeared faster than free pizza at a church potluck. Everybody agreed on one thing: it went by way too fast. It honestly felt like we unpacked on Tuesday and were loading the cars by Wednesday. The week was generously sprinkled with: bike rides dinners out copious amounts of camaraderie a ball game pizza alleged cookies cigars fireside chats that s

Still in San Diego What up, Chroniclers? Got yer cup? Today marks our last full day in San Diego... or Chula Vista... or whatever municipality we've accidentally been vacationing in. At this point, our GPS history looks like an FBI cold case file. The gang has another bike ride planned today. Unlike previous rides, we're hoping this one doesn't require a tetanus shot, police escort, or emergency furniture appraisal from the Doc. A few days ago, we were gathered outside our r

On the Road Again! What up, Chroniclers? Yes sir, it's time for the Chronicles. Everybody got your cup o’Joe? Got your readers so you can actually see your coffee? Alright, let's go. This week, a few of us escaped civilization and headed south for some quality time together. Cmdr McCroc, however, was unconvinced about our route selection. He took the I-15, we took the 5, and somehow this became a matter requiring a full congressional investigation. He grumbled because we didn

Hey Chroniclers, ya got yer cup? Good. You're gonna need it. Well, Sam One was at it again. As you know, Sam One is technologically divergent. Some people don't trust technology. Sam One doesn't trust technology that's already working. Apparently, he didn't trust his phone to properly capture the moment, so he brought along his camera and took the same pictures with that too. Then he had the film developed. After that, he used his phone to take pictures of the pictures he'd t

Yes, it's me. Sam One. What up, Chroniclers? Got yer cup? Let's go. Now before we get into graduation, I need to tell you about Papi Churro's journey into the great State of Texas. As many of you know, Papi encountered a few members of law enforcement along the way. By last count, three contacts total. But apparently once he crossed into Texas, Papi developed a new introduction. The conversation would allegedly go something like this: "Good afternoon, sir. License and registr

Papi Churro & I enjoying a smoke Hey Chroniclers! You got your cup? Good. Let's start this over because today's story deserves proper handling. This one's about my buddy Papi Churro. And before we get started, I need to clear up an important misunderstanding. I was telling my friend David about Papi, and being a native Spanish speaker, he looked at me and said, "Do you mean Papi Chulo?" I said, "No. Absolutely not." For those unfamiliar, Papi Chulo is a term of endearment. Pa

What up, Chroniclers? Got yer cup? Pull up a chair because I've got updates. Apparently, retirement is still a concept I'm experimenting with. As most of you know, I went back to work part-time for the Department. For those who didn't know, SURPRISE! I'm helping with backgrounds and trying to get more people into the hopper. So far, nobody has escorted me out of the building, which I choose to interpret as success. Recently, the Department made a change. Officially, it was no

Heading home from Cabo! What's up, my peeps? Got yer cup? The Cabo adventure is officially over. The HB and I arrived back at LAX after a fantastic week in paradise to find Cmdr. McCroc and Mrs. Scrubbles waiting for us. The flight home was uneventful. Unfortunately, what happened after we landed was not. As we descended into LAX, I looked down at the 105 and immediately remembered something important. It was Wednesday. At rush hour. And Cmdr. McCroc was driving the Coffeehou

Dinner with the HB Good morning, Chroniclers. Well, it's our last day in Cabo. As always, departure day is bittersweet. We're sad to see our friends scattering back across the country after a week of sunshine, laughter, pool parties, great food, and enough stories to keep the Coffeehouse supplied for months. Pool parties And what a week it was. There were retro soul-filled pool parties. Late-night domino tournaments. Questionable wildlife encounters. Outstanding food. Amazing

Morning shenanigans, on the bus ride into DT Cabo Hey Chroniclers, gotcher cup? I know it's afternoon coffee, but developments have occurred. As a responsible journalist, I feel obligated to issue an addendum to this morning's reporting. The lawyers say I don't actually have to do this. The Kelley Brothers say I definitely have to do this. More on that later. Now, the kids—which is ridiculous because they’re all pushing 50 and have their own mortgages, retirement accounts, an

Celebrating Independence Day, Mexican style Good morning, Chroniclers. Gotcher cup? As Americans across the land celebrated Independence Day with backyard barbecues, patriotic fanfare, and enough fireworks to alarm local household pets, the HB and I found ourselves honoring the holiday the only way two seasoned vacation professionals know how: By accidentally eating dairy, taking a nap, and becoming adopted grandparents to a pack of energetic forty-somethings. The day began i

The HB is not the best flight companion Whaddup, Chroniclers? Gotcher cup? Well, we're down here in Mexico, home of the world's finest patio chimneas, patio furniture, and apparently patio lifestyles. Cabo Vets, Nikki & Richie We're living large in Cabo with our daughter and son-in-law. They're owners at a resort down here, and because they apparently enjoy setting unrealistic expectations for our future vacations, they hooked us up with a gorgeous villa for the week. Experie

We get it, you're a fireman ...can we move on? Friday: The RV Summit That Was Supposed To Be Lunch Friday kicked off like any respectable weekend should: with a plan that made perfect sense and immediately went off the rails. Our good friend Dot rolled up from her beach city kingdom, fueled by a dangerously exciting idea: “I think I want to buy an RV.” Now, the HB and I are always ready to enable—uh—I mean support—our friends in making life-altering, financially adventurous d

The HB & I got our party on last night! Dateline: Saturday Morning (Recovery Mode) If you weren’t at the clubhouse last night, safely tucked under the jurisdiction of the Right Reverend’s birthday blessing, I deep-down pity your soul. It was a Friday night for the books. The company was elite, the drama was subtle, and entry to the buffet line required strategy. First of all, the guest list was a masterclass in "You Can’t Make This Up." Mr & Mrs McRib and the Right Reverend D

"No, I'm fine. I promise" The oddest thing happened to me last night—one of those moments that jerks you straight out of sleep and leaves you wondering if reality just glitched. I was deep asleep, probably somewhere in my third REM cycle, minding my own business, when suddenly I heard a voice: “THIS IS 9-1-1. HELLO. THIS IS 9-1-1. Do you have an emergency?” Now, there is absolutely no graceful way to wake up to that. One second you're dreaming, the next you’re trying to decid

Happy Father’s Day, Chroniclers. How did you spend your weekend? Because mine? Mine had everything. Baseball. Family. Heat stroke. Emotional betrayal. Illegal levels of excitement over a bobblehead. So it all kicked off June 19th — which for me has somehow turned into the Annual “Doctor Game” pilgrimage with my oldest boy, The Erb-ster. It’s tradition now. You know, one of those things where if you miss it once, suddenly you’re not on the Christmas card list anymore. Now Mik

Good morning, Chroniclers. Yes, I said good morning with confidence—despite the fact that I had just survived what can only be described as the Great Western Region Rally Extravaganza, featuring equal parts camaraderie, chaos, and airborne pollen intent on personally ending me. The regional rally shenanigans are, at long last, over. And like any respectable gathering of caffeinated enthusiasts, it had everything: announcements, mild disasters, suspicious pastry theft, and at

Hello, Chroniclers! Got yer cup? We’re still here—yes, still—at the Western Region Rally. Spirits are high, beverages are cold (when they’re plugged in), and as expected, no trip like this is ever completely incident-free. So far, we’ve only had two minor… let’s call them “character-building experiences.” Incident #1: The Case of the Phantom Air Conditioning This actually happened on night one, but I couldn’t remember it at the time—which, frankly, already sets the tone. We p

Keith Saffo was no help whatsoever Good morning, Chroniclers. Well, we’ve officially made it to Coos Bay, and whoo‑whee!!! —Was that last leg a challenge or what? That final stretch had everything: suspense, confusion, terror, and one well‑meaning hose jockey named Shannon Saffo who managed to lob a verbal hand grenade into an otherwise calm morning. Saffo called me early and issued what he clearly thought was a helpful warning. “Don’t take Route 38S.” That was it. No cont

Good morning, Chroniclers! How’s the caffeine situation? Cup full? Half full? Emotionally dependent? Excellent—let’s proceed. It’s my favorite time of year, which means the HB and I have once again pointed ourselves north and declared, with great confidence, “Let’s go see a couple hundred of our closest friends.” By “closest,” of course, I mean the kind of friends where you recognize faces, forget names, and spend the first hour pretending you absolutely remember where you me