Reports of my retirement . . .

EDITORIAL on September 07, 2026 By DAVID ROSS A writer today can't do much better than to imitate or even outright steal from the master, Mark Twain. So in the spirit of sharing is caring, I'm going to begin by writing that the rumors of my retirement 'are greatly exaggerated' and in fact don't have a lick of truth in them. I guess I could also steal from Sir Elton John and sing 'I'm still standing,' except, of course, that I can't sing. And yet, and yet, people keep inquiring as to the health of my employment. I guess it was the announcement that our publishing company has added another jewel to our crown of publications with the acquisition of Lyle Davis's venerable and beloved The Paper which has been redubbed as the North County Chronicle with longtime journalist Jeff Pack as the editor. Look for great things, there folks! This apparently led a lot of people to jump to the conclusion (hope springs eternal) that I had retired from The Roadrunner and The Times-Advocate. This may just be because David Ross is the second-most common name in America, after John Smith and so people tend to confuse me with other David Rosses, like the baseball player, the tech reporter, the pauper and the homeless person, to name a few. I've actually had the experience before of someone announcing my retirement from the profession without asking me. I must be careful in recalling that incident since the woman who posted my retirement announcement on Facebook about 14 years ago also wrote me a $5,000 check that bounced, had a habit of staying in houses in Coronado without paying rent, once tried to take over Western Days and run it as a personal business and likes to sue people. That's probably enough information for people to know who I'm talking about. It is definitely a weird experience to read that you have retired—almost like reading your own obituary before its time. So for that person, and just to rub it in just a little bit in a dignified manner: neener neener! And then there's the unhappy person in Escondido who runs a publication that might be called the Sad Sack Journal or the Sour Grapes of Wrath and who, when our publisher Justin Salter revived the dying Roadrunner declared that it wouldn't last six months. Now I could actually mention this person by name but—darn it, he keeps changing it! The truth of the matter is that I have entirely too much work doing the two newspapers. If I were to become part of a third paper I might have to invest in cloning technology. Shades of Jurassic Park and perverted nature! There, I think I've had enough fun with Living Well is the Best Revenge. For those who like my work, let us go forth, learn together and continue to have fun! For those who don't like my work: get a life. *Note: Opinions expressed by columnists and letter writers are those of the writers and not necessarily those of the newspaper.