Dear Antler, 

Who are you? And what's this blog idea all about?

Sincerely,

Ernest Walter Chipmunk

PS: My friends say that there's a bag of walnuts waiting for me across the road. They've double-dog dared me to run blindfolded, dodge cars and cross the street to get it. Are there really walnuts on the other side of the road?

Dear Mr. Chipmunk,

I’m glad you asked. My name is Jedediah Cornelius Antler. Most of my friends call me Jed or J.C., but my closest friends call me “the Buckfather.” Like many of my mule deer relatives, I live in the chaparral-blanketed woodlands of the Santa Monica Mountains in Southern California. But unlike most of my relatives, I spend my evenings in my favorite smoking jacket, strolling mountain trails with single-malt scotch in hoof, contemplating our place in the universe -- citylights twinkling below me like a million slow telegraphs being sent skyward. 

The mountains I call home bisect the city of Los Angeles, affording a sophisticated buck access to world-class art, culture, restaurants and a bustling nightlife while providing enough wilderness to stretch one’s legs. I certainly wouldn’t object to having more of this beautiful land preserved for future bucks, lady does and other creatures. Yet, even with its seemingly limitless sprawl and untenable over-reliance on the automobile, there’s no place I’d rather live than here. 

In these pages, I hope to show you why. 

Don't forget to scratch that wanderlust itch,

J.C. Antler

PS: As the saying goes, the grass it always greener on the other side. Whether or not there are walnuts across the street, you should first trust your instincts. Is it worth it? A life well-lived will always include some risks, but diving in head-first and blindfolded is a dare not worth taking.