Category: Society

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 21, 202410:18 pm

Sore loser or Wishful Thinker?

More than two weeks after the November 5th election, emotions among my neighbors range from anger to disbelief to resistance (a polite way of saying revenge). I see more Harris-Walz signs on lawns than before Americans voted.

Lemme see, the five stages of grief are (correct me if mistaken): Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I would guess the majority of University Heights residents are stuck in the first two stages. Acceptance? You can forget that. Defiance is more likely, as the plethora of signs suggest.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 17, 20249:11 pm

Thirsty?

As the November 5th Presidential election approached, I focused on preparing for emergencies—such as protests or infrastructure attacks, regardless the winner (or loser). I stocked up medical supplies and took trauma training for massive bleeding incidents. My wife and I majorly topped off food and water supplies, while I purchased some additional items, particularly for dealing with power outages.

Water bothered me most. What if some crazy person poisoned the water supply, or there was unexpected contamination incident—such as agricultural or industrial runoff or more Mexican spillage. Yikes, cyberattack? The solution that made most sense: Water-filtration system, for purifying the liquid from almost any source.

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 5, 20247:25 am

It’s Election Day!

The most consequential Presidential contest in generations comes to a conclusion today, as anyone who didn’t vote early goes to the polls to cast his or her ballot.

The intrigue so is palatable, we could all be living a scripted movie. Consider the circumstances that removed Joe Biden as Democrats’ chosen candidate and propelled Kamala Harris to replace him—or the nearly successful assassination attempt of Donald Trump around the same time. What’s that saying about conspiracies and coincidences?

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 4, 20247:56 pm

Trip to Trump Country

Two days ago, my wife and I enjoyed a scenic, 56-km (36-mile) drive from San Diego to Ramona, Calif., where I underwent Stop the Bleed trauma training. In our neighborhood, Democrat-candidate-supporting signs are everywhere. We have seen one for Trump, inside a window where no one could tear it away.

But we saw several banners—one hoisted high above the highway—along the route to Ramona and an actual Trump Store on Main Street. Say what? Someone would either graffiti or torch the place if located in the Hillcrest-North Park-University Heights area. Around where we live, people who can’t stop talking about inclusion and tolerance are quick to exclude and exude intolerance towards Donald Trump, his MAGA-movement, and anything or anyone Republican.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 2, 20249:56 pm

Stop the Bleed

This morning, we drove 56 km (35 miles) to Ramona, where I received trauma training meant to Stop the Bleed when injury severs an artery. The official, instructor-led class lasted about 90 minutes. Kit Fox Outfitters’ co-owner provided hands-on learning as part of the curriculum.

I will practice the techniques taught today so that they become muscle memory. Familiarity could make the difference between life and death in the event of a bleeding emergency, where seconds matter and being flustered and slow-moving is unacceptable. Practice makes perfect, as they say.

Living by Joe WilcoxOct 31, 20249:26 pm

The Incident on Halloween

The two photos have absolutely nothing to do with the content of this post—other than timing: Halloween. I had already planned to use them, and nothing better is available for appropriate illustration.

For many adults and kids looking for a good candy haul or costume party, the day is trick rather than treat. Fast-moving canyon brushfire erupted, around 1:40 p.m. PDT today in College Area, which is a neighborhood that includes San Diego State University.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 15, 202411:02 pm

San Diego is Scary Now

Seventeen years ago today, the Wilcox family relocated to San Diego from the Washington, DC-metro area. We came to care for my father-in-law, who would live another decade and pass away—age 95—in his own bed. He likely would have gone sooner and/or been confined to a nursing home otherwise.

My wife and I should have fled Communist California—and the slave mentality induced here—in 2017, soon after her dad died. But ongoing concerns about our only child kept us here longer. Our daughter’s brain injury, in March 2023, justified the financial hardship of staying. She survived—something unlikely had we, from a long distance, taken doctors’ advice to end life support rather than by being present choose to continue it.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 9, 20249:29 pm

Royal but Rustic

This isn’t the first rustic typewriter that I have seen put out for the taking. The vintage is way older than the one that I used as a teenager, but it is the same brand: Royal. I am a poorly, but efficient enough, self-taught typist—starting around age 14 (my handwriting is notoriously sloppy).

My recollection is dim about why I inherited a typewriter, which got plenty of usage. I punched out many poems and song lyrics on the thing; they were lost inside a box of memorabilia sometime in 1989. Advice: Don’t leave something precious in someone else’s garage. Your treasure could be put out as trash.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 5, 20247:56 pm

Witchy Women

As I walked along Louisiana Street from El Cajon Blvd, today, a lady dressed in full witch regalia—black with red accents—turned the corner from Meade. We passed and I wondered where she could be going 26 days before Halloween.

An answer approached after I crossed onto the next block: Two more witches walked my way. So, I stopped them and inquired, explaining about the other costume dresser. Some of the local ladies were off to University Heights neighborhood bar Gilly’s, which recently changed ownership and partially its name.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 29, 20249:25 pm

Would You Want to Live Here?

As explained three days ago, apartment landlords are taking away tenant garages and converting them into residential rentals. The practice is rampant across San Diego County, including my neighborhood of University Heights.

Unsurprisingly, the alleys separating streets fill with parked cars, particularly late day into the evening hours. You lost your garage and can’t find a legal space, so you make do and hope to move before the parking police blast by writing tickets.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 26, 20249:09 pm

Say Goodbye to Your Garage Parking Space

When we relocated to San Diego nearly 17 years ago, most home garage renovations were illegal—meaning they had been done without proper permits, if any. The stated interior size revealed all: A 600-square-foot cottage would be obviously larger, because of the undocumented, unsanctioned expansion.

Oh, and the buyer inherited any liability. Imagine one consequence, where the city, county, or state issued fines or demanded the whole, ah, illegal project be torn out. For the short time my wife and I considered buying a home here, we stayed clear of such properties.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 20, 20247:40 pm

Adios, Aldi

Food inflation is way worse than official, government data states if my local Aldi is a measure. The German-owned grocery was my favorite supermarket—until today’s visit. The many changes—higher costs among them—dismay and disappoint.

Aldi is about a 20-minute drive from our apartment, making it an expedition when other grocers are walking distance away. I hadn’t been to the place since sometime in 2023, although my wife has ventured there more recently. Today’s trip was my suggestion.