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About San Antonio

Once I heard this wild story—some guy in Vegas accidentally hired an undercover cop. A COP! Can you imagine the panic? I’d be like, “Oh, fabulous, I’m goin’ to jail in sequins!” Total buzzkill. But when it works? Man, it’s a rush—kinda sexy, kinda sleazy, like you’re livin’ a noir flick. “Our hearts beat as one”—well, maybe not, but for an hour, you’re the star of your own twisted romance.

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Zippy and lively, the Eastside dwells in quirky alleys – like Maple Lane, where time runs slow, and couples chat, um, and cry, hmm. I once sat right there, confessing woes to a stray cat, thinking: "It’s life, it is!" Minds do twist, precious! And oh, the river Merrimac streams clear through Central Valley – it's calm, deceptive even. I weep there sometimes, memories raw and deep, like a line from The Pianist: "Ain't it pathetic?" But, yess, even the river flows with hidden heartaches.

Holiday lights coming to Altamont Fairgrounds, without PAL involved