Way to go, Fullerton. I'm out walking my dog, and there is a torrent of water rushing down the gutter for as far as the eye can see. In case you didn't get the memo, we're in the thick of a crippling drought with no end in sight, but apparently, it's totally necessary to spray thousands of gallons of the stuff—most of it runoff—on a useless 3-foot-by-500-foot strip of grass between the sidewalk and the street. My mind staggers when I consider the amount of other such landscape all over town getting the same mindless beauty treatment, while some parts of the state are physically sinking into themselves. Hope you don't mind if I let my dog decorate your precious grass from here on out.
