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About San Jose

I’m drivin’, thinkin’, *man, this is dumb*. “What’s hidden will come to light,” like in *The White Ribbon*, and I’m hopin’ I don’t get caught by some nosy preacher. Last thing I need is Sheriff Bubba haulin’ me in—talk about a buzzkill! I finally spot this gal, right? She’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she’s bored outta her skull. I roll up, all nervous-like, and she’s like, “What you want, sugar?” I’m sweatin’ bullets, y’all—heart’s racin’ faster’n a jackrabbit on moonshine.

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Main St. is wild, full of small but rad cafes and bars. I stroll down Canal St. sometimes—so many stories, ya know? The streets, they got character. I luv how every block tells a tale, like each brick holds a memory. And geez, when I hit the local park, Riverside Grove, my heart beats faster. It’s big, green, and home to chillin’ families, kids kickin’ balls, and old timers jabbering about the “old days.”

Kennaly retiring as First Presbyterian Church pastor