The Rundown

By Allen David

Posted August 19, 2010 in News


Who’s laughing now? Sure, you’d snicker and tease Holli Ugalde that she came from Beaumont. But that was a cheap shot. But Holli showed ’em. You know that old saying about not being able to stand the heat? Well, Holli jumped in the lava pool, took the heat and stayed in the kitchen, baby; demonstrating to television audiences that she was the top chef during today’s broadcast of Hell’s Kitchen. The 25-year-old Beaumontian gal was chosen as the top finisher in a show known mostly for host Gordon Ramsay’s browbeating of contestants into a delectable mince jelly. And Holli made out pretty sweetly, if you ask me. As part of her prize winnings, she was made the head chef—no salad cart for her, no siree—at Ramsay’s Savoy Grill in London. Wow. Swapping out dear-old Beaumont for a foggy old metropolis—upgrade! Who’s laughing now?


Let’s give it up for Beaumont, folks. Again. Tracy Caldwell Dyson—a Beaumont High graduate—is literally one with the stars. The chemist and NASA astronaut was part of a two-person team to complete a spacewalk outside the International Space Station. The task at hand? Replacing a faulty cooling system component. And we’re left to surmise that her humble roots might have played a role in this repair mission. Apparently, Dyson used to help her electrician father during the summers she spent with him in Cherry Valley. Note to IE young’uns: Helping your technically skilled father with his electrician’s work will get you farther than helping out with your older brother’s meth lab in the backyard. Yeah, both involve some kind of science—but a chemistry degree might end up taking you farther than a San Bernardino narcotics task force rap sheet. I’m just saying. But, as I was saying . . .  A world-class chef from Beaumont. An internationally-lauded scientist from Beaumont—just what the hell is in the water out there?!?!? Beaumont, how badly I’ve underestimated you.


Oh, Bill. Third time’s the charm, eh? The Postmus saga continues . . .


Something been bugging me since I read the story yesterday. After enduring all the Fontucky jokes and listening to Hemet go on and on about why Arizona’s Mexicans-suck immigration policy is the best thing since white bread (Get it? I said “white” bread?), I’ve heard just about all I can endure when it comes to this region’s reputation for being, oh, what’s the term?—oh yeah—racist and bigoted. But I ain’t done yet. No, not when Aryan Nations member Daniel B. Schruender (now there’s a name Hitler would love!) is running for a seat on the Rialto school board. But maybe I’m too quick to judge. Sure, I toss the term “white supremacy,” around but Heil Schruender’s here to set the record straight. He’s “pro-white.” And there’s a difference. I guess. “We are just here to protect white rights to make sure we don’t start getting screwed,” he tells The Press-Enterprise. And that’s a good point. If anyone knows anything about screwing over other people’s rights—it’s white people. And then a stroke of irony hits me. If Schruender actually ends up elected to the school board (hey, it is Rialto), that would put him in quite a pickle. Being the only Aryan Nations member on the dais, I guess that would make him a—gasp—a minority!


Ah, a touching story about a dude who went postal big time. I mean 43 years postal. As in that’s what Robert “Bobby” Perales has been doing in downtown Riverside for nearly half a century. The 70-year-old has been handing folks their manila envelopes, brown-paper-wrapped packages and thumbstained postcards since before Mayor Luv lost the color in his hair. He’s so old school, he happily calls himself a “mailman.” Screw that “mail carrier” crap. So, what’s he gonna do once he retires? Set up an email account.


Corpses stumble through the night. The moon drips blood. A man metamorphs into a lupine horror. Yup, Ozzfest rose from the grave last night in San Bernardino. The metalapalooza ditched putting on a fest last year and the year before that it was a one-show/one-off concert in Texas somewhere. So San Bernardino was pretty blessed to get a taste of the Blizzard of Ozz . . . though without the power outages to Iron Maiden’s set—it just didn’t feel the same.


Officials at UCR are absolutely gushing because a new study shows the campus is 100 percent, absolutely gung-ho about making sure the brown and black faces of its student body actually end up with a degree in hand—and not working the wok at Pacific Stix. According to a Washington D.C.-based nonprofit, Education Trust, UCR is doing a damn good job with its Hispanic and African-American students; namely making sure that they aren’t bypassed by Whitey. Case in point: White and Latino students graduate at about the same rate (62 and 63 percent). In fact, Black students graduate at even higher rates than white students at UCR. You can bet someone in Fontana ain’t happy about this.


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