Along University Ave., in San Diego neighborhood North Park, two billboards that typically market local drug dispensaries warn about syphilis and gonorrhea. There are two! A block apart, straddling Louisiana and Texas streets.
Take my advice: Stop smoking pot and sleeping around. That’s how you reduce—or eliminate among faithful spouses—the risk of sexually transmitted diseases. Advertising that changed from cannabis shops to STDs—drugs and sex—there is a connection.
Are you doing it now, or hoping to? Thanks to SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 mandates, many people were compelled to work from home—and when the restrictions lifted many didn’t want to return to the office. Of course, much depended upon the employee’s duties.
Let me clear up some myths, having worked out of a home office since May 1999. Often someone would ask how I could work at home and not be distracted by the environment or tempted to watch television all day. That was never my problem. Let’s start with that one and move along.
Marking a trendy trend among the trendy artisan set, Communal Coffee in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood won’t accept your money for payment. Your credit or debit card is legal tender, even Apple Pay, but keep bills or coins in pocket, purse, or wallet.
The privilege of digital currency comes with a perk—and one some of you won’t want: The tip nag screen that appears during the purchase process. Oh, don’t feel guilt or pressure, with the glaring eyes of the barista bearing down on you with expectation of 20-percent or more gratuity to top off that swank latte with almond milk.
Around my neighborhood are many little lending libraries. Some are fancy, others large, then there those paying homage to something. All are wooden boxes of various types placed and placarded (as LittleFreeLibrary). Someone made them.
But why go to all that trouble? Today, I happened upon the best book sharing station ever. Why build something new, when you can repurpose something else—in this instance a fence post upon which to place a cardboard box with books. I love it! Use what you got instead of making something new.
June is when come out the proud boys—and I don’t mean the group caught up in what occurred inside and outside the U.S. Capitol building on Jan. 6, 2021. Rainbow banners fly in homes and businesses around San Diego, supposedly supporting the prideful.
So I was quite surprised, today, to come upon colors of different character and national pride. At the corner of Madison and Texas streets, someone set up a stand selling the flag of Mexico and related sundries. Driving to Costco and stopped at a red light, I rolled down the car’s window and used Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra to shoot the Featured Image and companion.
The prominent decoration in San Diego during June are rainbow flags. I don’t love them. There are so many, meaning is pointless. Besides, I see more cultural, political, and societal division because of them than the inclusion the colors supposedly represent.
Continuing along Adams Avenue from the clock, you will pass the self-serve car wash. The Featured Image, from Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra, is a refreshing blast of colors compared to the tired and overly displayed rainbow. Hence, my stopping for a shot, on June 2, 2023. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 10, 1/1400 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 2:55 p.m. PDT.
Well, the Featured Image is sure to offend somebody. Others might cheer the implications. The doors stand outside one of the churches in San Diego neighborhood Hillcrest. By no coincidence, the institution flies rainbow flag.
I can’t resist. In Matt. 7:13, Jesus said: “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it” (NASB). My question for you: Are six doors of inclusion a “narrow gate?”
While driving our car to the auto shop for routine maintenance, today, I passed an intriguing billboard along Adams Avenue in San Diego neighborhood Normal Heights. Sentiment “People Matter” makes perfect sense. But not too long ago, and perhaps still, “all lives matter” was taboo response to the “black lives matter” crowd. Does this advert push boundaries? Is “people matter” all that different from “all lives matter”—regardless the different context? You tell me.
I am a big fan of offending people, of pushing their buttons, so to speak. We all need to feel uncomfortable from time to time, so that we think. So if “people matter” offends you, good! And because everyone matters, why should inclusivity of all colors be bothersome? Now, let’s get to the context, which is nothing about race relations.
Not for the first time, car horn-honking, chanting, cheering, and clapping beckoned me to the administrative offices for San Diego Unified School District, which is but a few blocks from our University Heights apartment.
I came upon a sizable protest of people dressed in red T-Shirts. The number could have been in the thousands—size the Featured Image and companion don’t capture in part because the crowd spread out some distance. They jam-packed when marching, too. Vitals, aperture manually set for both: f/8, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 4:23 p.m. PDT; Leica Q2.
In April 2016, I started to write “Why is Hollywood Obsessed with Viral Armageddon?” In June 2017, I shot a photo to illustrate the post, which wasn’t finally finished until March 2021—nearly a year after the World Health Organization declared SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 to be a pandemic.
San Diego’s Museum of Us exhibit “Cannibals: Myth & Reality” must be ongoing because I came upon the same sign still in place six years later—as you can see from the Featured Image, captured using Leica Q2 Monochrom, on April 20, 2023. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 3:23 p.m. PDT.
Remember this: “The Teardown“, from February 2022? Where was a home and a few trendy shops, another multi-unit monument to more unaffordable housing rises along Park Blvd between Howard and Polk. By the strictest map boundaries, the location is in the community of University Heights. But because of zip code, someone will claim San Diego’s Hillcrest.
Vantage for the Featured Image is parallel street Georgia. I count four stories and rising. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 50, 1/8800 sec, 70mm; 2:22 p.m. PDT, today; Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra.
The never-ending pattern of eviction, renovation, or teardown and rebuild provides temporary residences for San Diego’s homeless. I had wondered why encampments suddenly vanished along either El Cajon Blvd or Florida Street here in University Heights. The so-called unhoused moved into unoccupied flats.
What a sad, tragic state of affairs across from Kindred Hospital on Georgia Street. Around the beginning of the year, a woman living in a charming Craftsman-like house had to leave, because the property had been sold for redevelopment. I once chatted with her about renovictions and calico Rosie. Renters of the apartments next door were forced out some months later. I had photographed ginger kitty Harvey there in June 2021. Both animals appear in my “Cats of University Heights” series.