• author
    • Donald Sanders

      Columnist
    • August 17, 2014 in Columnists

    Winters, California imponderables

    I’d like to talk about a column in the local newspaper, the Winters Express, entitled, “Well, Toto, I guess we’re not in Winters anymore,” in which columnist Edmund Lis, discusses his problems adjusting to the way the City of Winters is evolving with the passage of time and population growth. Well, I hear you talking, Ed, because I, too, have a few things to say on this subject.

    Some of the stuff I’d like brought up has already been brought up a hundred times before in my illustrious column appearing on and off in the very same newspaper, the Winters Express. How-so-ever, unlike the problems Ed Lis mentions, my problems are real and need to be brought up first and we can get to Mr. Lis’ problems in due time.

    To begin, what about those penis poles downtown that look like big wieners? They look just like penises. That’s why I call them penis poles or more formally, in Latin “penieruptus.” The problem I have with them is their size. Why are they so small? I would have made them 20 feet tall so we could drive in between them, right? Why does the city keep ignoring me on this matter?

    They are right next to a sign with a picture of a futuristic hotel that ain’t ever gonna get built, but the sign has been there for 18 years, maybe even longer, I forget. There used to be a railroad running right through that very spot. so we should put back those old tracks and park a train there. Most of the people who visit here sleep under the bridge anyway and for some reason, they have an appetite for catalytic converters. I don’t know what the hell that’s about.

    Just one step away from the hotel sign, there is a 500 feet tall palm tree that is right smack in the spot where my “pre” memorial statue is supposed to be. How can I move my statue in if the damn tree is still there? We need to get hot on removing that tree because it could fall over and hurt someone, maybe even me!

    Elliott Street is still named Elliot Street instead of Sanders Street. It was named Elliott Street about a hundred years ago after the guy that used to own the “Penmaker” business. They made the best pens in the world and everybody, even the town mayor, loved to dumpster dive in his dumpster because he would throw some of those pens away sometimes. Now that Elliot guy always walks around town and every time he sees me he gives me a dirty look because he thinks I’m pretending to be a writer.

    What’s up with the Winters Chamber of Commerce giving my “Citizen of the Year” award to that Pickerel guy? I can see what’s gonna happen here, and I’ll tell you right now. Every year they move the Chamber of Commerce so I can’t find it to nominate myself. This year is no different! I don’t know where the hell it is now! I’ll bet the next thing they do is change the name of “Elliott Street” to “Pickerel Street” so it will never be called “Sanders Street.”

    Everybody knows that Elliott Street belongs to me! I have big plans for that street. I have gathered a number of parking meters and I am in the process of building a toll both to be placed at Elliott Street and East Abbey Street because I own that corner, too. While I’m talking about that corner, we’d better talk about how the fire department keeps taking free water from my fire hydrant that’s right on my lawn, or it used to be, until the city built a sidewalk around it.

    Something else on my corner I’d like to discuss is the fact that there’s a storm drain that directs rain water under my property and I don’t get a penny from the city for renting the space. I complained to the mayor about it once awhile back, but he didn’t like that much and sent his city maintenance goons over to beat me up. I can’t name the goon or I might get sued for slander but his initials are Terry Vender. He told me, “You’re a nice guy, Donald, but I got to beat the hell right out of you, right now.” When I woke up, he was driving over my hedges.

    Right before Christmas, the Chamber of Commerce has a Scarecrow Contest and for almost 30 years nobody has ever, I mean never ever, looked at my scarecrow, and some lady downtown wins the contest every year with the same scarecrow. She won with it last year and the year before that. I bet she’s related to that Pickerel guy who wins everything else.

    Take a walk down to Steady Eddy’s and you’ll see some goofy little three foot high swing set with no swings. There’s another one down the street in front of Main Street Cellars. Every time I walk by Main Street Cellars, there are about a hundred women in there drinking wine. They always whistle and make catcalls at me when I pass. I feel so much like a sex toy. I’m so afraid!

    I am amazed and full of wonder when I look at the weird looking handrails that go nowhere right in front of Steady Eddy’s. They don’t lead you anywhere except out into the middle of the street. These handrails are so useless that some people just park their bikes under them.

    I could go on and on, but I’m an impotent man and I don’t have time for this. I’m hoping the City of Winters will take heed of these problems this time and maybe correct a few of them. Millions and millions of people all over the world read my column and there will be some repercussions to say the least. Get with it, Winters guys!

    Weird handrail

    Weird handrail

    3' high swing set with no swings

    3′ high swing set with no swings

    Hotel sign and Palm Tree

    Hotel sign and Palm Tree



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