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Wespent16daysofthe season at our sons' homes in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin. We packed ac- cordingly, pick- ing clothes we never wear in Red Bluff. It was good planning. When you drive along the winter land- scape of East- ern Pennsylvania, you see bare trees, bowing corn stalks, white fields, and grey skies. As you pass by Limer- ick the contrast to the white steam emanating from the tall towers of that nuclear facility is eerie, and you al- most feel you are traveling through a post apocalyp- tic world. It could all be very dreary except it is Christ- mas, and the joy of the sea- son overwhelms the dol- drums of winter. We spent Christmas at my son's house in Pottstown, PA. Emma, our 16 year old grand- daughter was one of five of our grandchildren to receive an advanced level Lego set this season. All five spent a good deal of time assembling the all too tiny pieces neces- sary to complete their com- plex projects; that activity taught patience, following di- rections, and perseverance. It gave us opportunity to use our camera as well. Both Jim and Emma got drones for Christmas, and Christmas morning was sunny and gave both a chance to fly their new acquisitions. Before long Emma had test flown her new white drone into the top of the tallest tree on the property. Last we heard it was still "Drone Alone" un-rescued. I have been using a cane for the last several months to help with some balance is- sues — physical, not men- tal. During our stay in Penn- sylvania we had a contest to name my cane. My wife and I prefer "sugar" but oth- ers came up with "nova," "co,"and "Lyda;" not sure which one will stick. My 5 year old in Wisconsin says I should call it "stick man." On the 26th we ventured to the Valley Forge Mall. It was evident the Christmas spirit had evaporated as horns honked, drivers glared, turn signals malfunctioned, and everyone seemed in hurry to get that great bargain, or to return a gift. We simply wanted to get a few missing pieces for my granddaugh- ters' LEGO project. It seemed the kit was a little short of the 900 pieces it claimed. The Lego store was prepared, and it had a bin of free missing pieces. The twenty mile round trip, including the exchange, took three hours. On the 27th we flew from Philadelphia to Milwaukee to visit our other son and his family. Our original plan was to fly through Detroit, but early that morning we were notified we were rerouted through Atlanta. When we left Philadelphia it was in the mid 40s, in Atlanta it was in the low 60s, and when we landed in Milwaukee it was 29. Fortunately we had put on long underwear and had our ear muffs handy. The landscape in Wiscon- sin was whiter than Pennsyl- vania, and generally colder. We opened our presents on the afternoon of the 27th, and shared smiles. The boys were particularly happy to receive the calendars I had made which featured vari- ous family pictures for each month, including baby pic- tures of all our children and grandchildren. There was a contest to try to identify each individual. No one got them all. The next day we ventured into one of the malls and then the Milwaukee Zoo; we visited the animals who were staying inside; it was 29 de- grees. The hippos were the hit of the visit with the gi- raffes a close second. The next day we saw the new Star Wars movie, "Rogue One." It was long, loud, and full of gratuitous violence. It ended happy with a CG version of Carrie Fisher holding plans to the Death Star saying there was hope, most likely for some profitable sequels. One of the nice things about spending Christ- mas with grandchildren is the echoes of happy voices as gifts are shared, and, of course, the fond recognition of forgotten voices like Bing Crosby, Perry Como, Burl Ives, and Andy Williams. One grandson gave a me a Brewers bat and the other a balloon ball. They both told me I could squeeze them. On New Year's Eve our grandson, Sam, put things into perspective, using various fruit and nuts demonstrated the solar system and the vast- ness of space, helping us to understand our small part in this amazing creation. We have enjoyed our time away, but we look forward to flying home, putting away the scarves, ear muffs, and long johns, and enjoying our friends and neighbors in Red Bluff. JoeHarropisaretired educator with more than 30 years of service to the North State. He can be reached at DrJoeHarrop@sbcglobal.net. JoeHarrop Christmas in Wisconsin and Pennsylvania Writer'sdivorcecolumn Editor: Columnist Stan Statham asked male readers for their input. As a female, I'm offering my take on his unfortunate situation. It's over. Divide the debts. And quit airing your dirty laundry. — Vickie Linnet, Corning Trump a breath of fresh air Editor: Get ready America for the best ride of your life. Okay, crybabies, let's dry those tears up. Trump won, Hillary lost. I haven't voted in many years until now. Was no need to. I went along with the flow. I am a Democrat and I voted for Trump. I would like to see a woman president someday, not Hillary. I think the coun- try would have stayed stagnant with the same old politicians. I say let's give him a chance. People who wanted to leave the country if he won, I suggest borrowing his plane and pilot and get out. He will have Air Force One. He could fly around the coun- try, pick up all the flag burners, Colin Kaepernick and others who get down on one knee dur- ing the national anthem. They should get down on both knees and thank God and all the vets who gave their service and some gave all for Old Glory, so they could make millions and save their freedom. If Trump falls into the same old same old like the other pol- iticians before him, he should step down. But first let's chill and give him a chance. — Stan Thompson, Red Bluff The Red Shoes Team Editor: Not sure how the six older guys got together — Mike Tay- lor, Skip Sale, Hal Foster, Sam Collins, Julius Cabral and Don Moore, the last two deceased. Sure glad to hear that we did brighten up the gym, but Avery Vilche is so right in that Don Moore did have a great smile and a captivating personality. I had no idea of Don't box- ing skills. It is sad that we learn so much so late. Don will be missed by the Red Shoe Gang that he started. Thanks to Avery Vilche for her article. — Sam Collins, Red Bluff What to do about water problem Editor: It is way past time to do something about California's water problem. What we even- tually will have to do is build a full out desalination program. A program big enough that we don't even need to use our riv- ers and lakes or our pumps ei- ther for that matter. Just de- salinate the Pacific Ocean and let everybody turn their yards green and fill their pools. Between 1960 and 2010 the population of California grew from 15 million people to 37 million. The estimate for this year is it will top 39 million. The number I have seen quoted is that each person uses 250 gallons of water each day. Do we have any more water this year than we did in 1960? California has a full range of climates ranging from alpine with ample snow and rainfall in the high mountains, to a hot rain- less desert in Death Valley. But most of the state; where the ma- jor population is, is basically arid. The state is using all the wa- ter it can get from the Colorado River and most of the rivers in the state and wants all the wa- ter from the Sacramento River sent south. The people down south want us to ration our wa- ter use so more can be sent to them. My comment on that idea is not printable in a daily newspaper, but you can infer the words easily enough. Be- sides the obvious impact this will have on agriculture and the fisheries the result for hu- mans will be less water per person and is not an acceptable or reasonable solution. We either have to find a new source of water or we need to start depopulating the state. The federal government has passed legislation that over time allocates 11.5 billion dol- lars to be applied to the prob- lem by partially funding many projects to move and store wa- ter but it's time to face facts. There just isn't enough rainfall to supply our needs if we cap- ture every drop of water that falls from the sky. Take that $11.5 billion and the money allocated for the tun- nels around the delta, which in one form or another has been Governor Brown's rejected so- lution for years, and the money delegated for the Governor's choo choo and start building desalination plants along the coast from the Mexican border to San Francisco. Before we even start, we need to be aware that there are entrenched political ac- tion groups that will fight us all the way. There are the agricul- tural interests that want us to solve their situation first. After all, California produces a major portion of this countries fruits, nuts and vegetables and the need for that produce is only growing. There are the people attempting to save our fisher- ies; both inside the state and in the ocean. Fisheries for both the commercial salmon indus- try and the sport fishing indus- try which has already been dec- imated by California's current water policies, And then there are the ecologists who will find a dozen creatures in the Pacific that will be threatened by this massive project. Finally there are the already entrenched bureaucrats in Sac- ramento whose major goal is to protect their individual empires and then will just be trying to get a piece of the pie. This project has two parts. First is just the decision to start building these desalination plants, and second is to realize that this is only an engineering problem. No matter what obsta- cles arise we can engineer our way around them. — Fred Boest, Red Bluff Your opinions Cartoonist's take It is our fervent hope here at Durstco that all you loyal read- ers join us in welcoming the elixir of oppor- tunity that is 2017 and pray that it goes down smoother than that most re- cently departed year whose name has been wiped from our memory banks. It might have had some- thing to do with a one, a zero, a two and a six. Not necessarily in that order. "The Year That Shall Not Be Named" sucked like an indus- trial strength vacuum cleaner designed to inhale rocks the size of Saskatchewan, leav- ing a stench in its wake like a twelve-month moored garbage scow with none of the atten- dant charm. It was a Mt. St. Hel- ens, Jamestown Flood, Titanic, Hindenburg, Mrs. O'Leary's cow kind of a year. On a major league suckage scale of one to 10, the previ- ous annum would rate at about 4,937. It was to suck like sew- age is to stink. The suckiest of the sucky. Suckalicious. Suck- atosic. Suck- O- Rama. With a sucktosity able to strip the chrome off the back bumper of a '57 Thunderbird. Maybe it was that extra leap day that tipped the balance from the merely sucktastic to the sucklandish. Turning ordinary ugly into grievously heinous. But those 366 days of death and de- struction and disaster and des- olation and disease and despair and diabolical and discombob- ulation was only tempered by the fact that we survived. Barely, and not all of us. But then, the most fiendish always leave a few alive to tell the tale. Or could Star Trek's James T. Kirk have gone back in time thoroughly messing things up again, causing a rift in the space-time continuum? That would certainly explain the Cubs winning the World Se- ries, an orange clown becom- ing President, a third Kung Fu Panda film and Spam musubi on cauliflower rice. The year that bridged 2015 and 2017 was to happy times what banana daiquiris are to reinforced concrete sup- port beams. What barbed-wire wrapped bats are to panty hose. Inspector Clouseau and calm analytical judgment. Marbles and scissors. Queen Elizabeth once re- ferred to a particularly bad year, as an "annus horriblis" and the 31,622,400 seconds we recently escaped was exponentially that, with one of the "N's" removed. The threat of another 52 weeks like the one we just endured makes you want to build a bun- ker in the back yard and fill it to the brim with Little Debbie Snack Cakes and bourbon. Not necessarily in that order. Or perhaps the calendar most recently ripped off the wall was a plot by the Pharmaceutical In- dustry to sell more anti- depres- sants. Anyhow, whatever you want to call what recently sunk into blessed oblivion, almanac- wise, good riddance to bad rub- bish. Don't let the doorknob hit you in the butt on the way out. Get while the getting's good. Even though it's way too late. And a big fat wet sloppy kiss on both cheeks to 2017. Come on in, take off your coat. Sit down a spell. Put your feet up. We're counting on you to take the chill off the air. But, hey. No pres- sure.You have some awfully tiny shoes to fill. Star Wars 8 come this December already puts you halfway to the good. Will Durst is an award-winning, nationally acclaimed columnist, comedian and former short haul truck diver of plaster molds. For a calendar of personal appearances, visit willdurst.com. Will Durst 'The year that shall not be named' ... Good riddance to bad rubbish GregStevens,Publisher Chip Thompson, Editor EDITORIAL BOARD How to have your say: Letters must be signed and provide the writer's home street address and home phone number. Anonymous letters, open letters to others, pen names and petition-style letters will not be allowed. Letters should be typed and no more than two double-spaced pages or 500words. When several letters address the same issue, a cross section will be published. 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