By I.M. Claritan
Daylight savings time will end in the wee hours of November 3. The grand tradition of cheating an extra hour of sleep from the universe, however, may be going increasingly unnoticed. No one watches the news any more, which could always be counted on to remind us to "fall back" one hour. Phones and cars update automatically. The closest thing we have to a community square clock - the one at the corner of Soledad and Whites Canyon - is digital, so it won't spend much time equivocating. It's all too easy for the time change to become invisible as we awaken mysteriously better rested. It's worth considering what else might be more invisible than it ought.
"His term is ending and he doesn't live in either of the districts with an election, so it's time for a political pause.
LET'S NOT CALL IT THE END."
Big Shoes to Fill
It's amazing how quickly politicians fade from the center of the political universe to nobodies. "Nobodies" isn't quite fair; they become former somebodies. Regardless, the fight against invisibility is ferocious, especially this time of year. If you haven't filled out your mail-in ballot already, there is no shortage of reminders. And when you do get around to it, take a moment to notice names that are missing. Some storied, and dare I say likable, politicians are closing big chapters of their careers.
Cameron Smyth, the City of Santa Clarita councilmember turned state assembly member turned councilmember again, is a casualty of the switch to voting by district. His term is ending and he doesn't live in either of the districts with an election, so it's time for a political pause. Let's not call it the end. Scott Wilk, our state senator, is leaving because of term limits. In this final year in office, he still managed to get a bill signed into law, one that will make pet spaying and neutering more accessible. In a recent reflection on his career, an emotional Wilk quoted Frank Zappa, saying, "It's better to have something to remember than anything to regret."
A Treemark
It's a tale familiar to many locals. Before Santa Clarita was Santa Clarita, before California was California, and perhaps even before America was America, a tiny acorn sprouted in a quiet swale of our valley. It grew and grew and became a massive, stately oak, providing homes for birds, food for squirrels and shade for all. But very selfishly, the tree had done all of this in the path of Stevenson Ranch's development. It was time for the chainsaw. At this point in the story, an artist named John Quigley became the unlikely champion of the oak (soon dubbed "Old Glory"), camping in its branches for a couple of chilly months until an agreement was reached to spare the tree. Against the odds and at considerable expense, the tree was painstakingly boxed up and inched to a new home, where it survived.
Given its very remarkable journey some two decades ago, the tree recently received designation as a Los Angeles County Historic Landmark. Trees are often invisible technicalities in the way of development, and this honor elevates it to a very lofty status. As for the other trees that were in the way? Perhaps invisible but still present - as mulch.
Seen for Dinner
We've all felt invisible at one time or another, but that's especially rough around the holidays. Thankfully, many individuals and institutions step up for Thanksgiving. The Castaic Lions Club has a tradition of volunteering at the Santa Clarita Senior Center. Hundreds attended for Thanksgiving 2023, sitting eight to a table to share turkey and company. The Newhall Community Center also served a Thanksgiving dinner last year and the Samuel Dixon Family Health Center and partners provided groceries to many families. All of these places offer vital services throughout the rest of the year, too, and if poultry-based meals are what's needed to highlight the work,
so be it.
Of course, many in the community need assistance with food year-round, and one of my favorite programs aimed at this cause just wrapped up. The Santa Clarita Public Library temporarily accepted non-perishable food in lieu of payment of overdue fines. It's passed on to organizations like the Salvation Army. The program isn't massive and it's only temporary, but who doesn't like the idea of paying for a slightly over-kept book with a can of soup that will keep someone warm? We heart small acts of charity, and their impacts will be far from invisible.
This column is intended as satire and a (sometimes successful) attempt at humor. Suggestions and catty comments intended for the author can be e-mailed to iheartscv@insidescv.com.