Stacey Warde writes from his home in Cayucos where he tends a local two-acre stand of blueberries.
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Opinion by Stacey Warde, publisher of the Rogue Voice I worked at New Times as managing editor at the turn of the century, not long after 9/11, when the alternative weekly wasn’t yet 20 years old. Recently, I received an email from a past reader and contributor: “Did New Times contact you about contributing to... (Continue Reading)
OPINION By STACEY WARDE A woman at the thrift shop today asked me if I was homeless. I had just pulled a pair of Levi jeans off the rack, and a book on writing I’d discovered off the shelf and placed them before her. “Do you take credit or debit cards?” I asked. “No, I’m... (Continue Reading)
By Stacey Warde, editor of the Rogue Voice In the early days of the Rogue Voice, when it was still merely a monthly newsprint journal, we published a story about what prisoners do when they get horny. Tito David Valdez, Jr., doing 25-years-to-life for conspiracy to commit murder, wrote an essay about “Hittin’ it,” an... (Continue Reading)
OPINION By STACEY WARDE We get our share of crazies passing through town. I met one recently at Kelley’s Espresso and Desserts Coffee Shop in Cayucos. Right away he took a dislike to me—and to just about everyone who crossed his path. The sheriff’s deputies had informed window washers on the job across the street... (Continue Reading)
OPINION By STACEY WARDE At my college graduation in 1984, a candidate receiving a degree in American Studies stepped up to the podium for his diploma, and someone in the audience proclaimed loudly, “What the hell can you do with a degree in American Studies?” I had taken an American Studies course, the “American dream,”... (Continue Reading)
OPINION By STACEY WARDE As I write this, a collection agency is leaving another annoying, threatening message on the answering machine. The voice is petulant, measured and all business. I’ve just walked back into the house to make a call of my own after starting up my work truck—a 30-year-old beast that backfires and sputters—and... (Continue Reading)
By STACEY WARDE I’m raw and unbalanced, hung over from a bout with beer and whisky. I skipped going to work today. It’s gray, overcast and generally gloomy. Besides, it’s a Saturday, and a Fourth of July weekend. I hate working weekends, especially holidays, but I’m getting used to it. In this economy, few can... (Continue Reading)
By STACEY WARDE Worried that I might sink into a hole, squeaking out an inadequate living as a part-time farmhand, Mom suggests that I look into an opening at Fairhaven Memorial Park and Mortuary, not far from where she lives. “They’re looking for a funeral director,” she says excitedly. “Mom, I’m not qualified for a... (Continue Reading)
By STACEY WARD When the sheriff came to town, backed by countless federal agents, to bust a legitimate, city-approved business, we could all breathe ahuge sigh of relief. No more squirrelly riff-raff posing as patients to get theirmarijuana fix. No more “medical” marijuana dispensaries in San LuisObispo County. No more respect for community-based values andstandards in which... (Continue Reading)