I feel off this evening and must delay my planned treatise about the 2022 Olympic Games for another day. For now, I present a portrait of a friend behind the cue stick. He is a […]
The Teardown
The massive redevelopment of my San Diego locale advances so briskly that today’s cute business or residence is tomorrow’s demolition. In December 2021, while walking along the University Heights side of Park Blvd, I saw that vintage clothier Frock You! had closed. Strangely. On the door was an eviction notice from the county sheriff, while clothes and debris littered the business’ (uncharacteristically exposed) outdoor shopping area, which had attracted a cadre of the homeless. The adjacent businesses were shuttered, too, suggesting a soon-to-be teardown before the build up of something new.
Fast forward to this afternoon and my first venture that way in more than six weeks. A fence cordons off the former strip of shops and what had been a beautiful home converted into several residences—the Featured Image and companion. The exposed kitchen appliances piqued my interest enough to pull out iPhone 13 Pro and point it through one of the spaces among the chain-links.
The Cats of University Heights: Tucker
Our Caturday story begins in summer 2021, when my wife learned about two felines that frequented a property that wasn’t their home. The all-black, Loki, joined the series in July. We wouldn’t first see the other until October 17, when I used iPhone 13 Pro to shoot the long-delayed Featured Image. Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 32, 1/22 sec, 77mm; 10:40 a.m. PST. I regrettably resisted adding the newcomer sooner because no name, and I couldn’t be sure there wasn’t a mix up and this kitty was Loki. Everything changed yesterday, when Annie and I chatted with another neighbor who identified the second cat as Tucker. Whew.
That introduction brings us to the drama. Tucker occasionally appeared during the end of last year but made a startling entrance on Jan. 2, 2022. As we approached the property where he is somewhat an interloper, I spotted the black and white on a fence and pointed him out to Annie. She observed what I missed. “He has feathers in his mouth”, she exclaimed.
The Painted Garden
Around University Heights and adjacent San Diego neighborhoods, I see more murals like this one: Painted on personal property, not necessarily a business. They add magnificent charm and character—and individualized flare that pops compared to nearby houses.
I feel for the homeowners, who deserve to stake out some semblance of freedom and peace. The mural faces the forever commercial construction site across the alley separating Georgia Street and Park Blvd at Monroe. In June 2015, a house sitting on that corner at Park sold for $525,000. The worksite has existed for so long that I can’t recall dates when. But using Google Maps Street View snapshots over time, I see that demolition and early construction commenced no later than June 2016—for a lumbering, three-and-a-half story mixed-use business and residential building far from finished.
The Urban Jungle Gym
What qualifies as a park in one of San Diego’s supposedly trendier neighborhoods? Answer: North Park Mini Park—and, yes, that’s the name of the community seen in the Featured Image. When I think of a park, particularly in a coastal region with three Summer seasons (Early, Mid, and Late), lush space with grass, greenery, and trees comes to mind. Apparently, not in North Park, where cement rules.
Say, can some stereotypical, anti-carbon emissions, stop climate change citizen living there explain the environmental benefits of building another edifice that absorbs heat and in the process quite likely also contributes to global warming? Wouldn’t heat-reducing, carbon-dioxide absorbing, oxygen-producing plants, shrubs, and trees make more environmental sense and be more interesting a refuge for residents?
The Cats of University Heights: Saunter
The backlog of unpublished kitties is so long that I stopped taking every photographic opportunity. Hopefully, regrets won’t follow that decision. We resume with a longhair that my wife and I assumed was feral on first sighting: Alley separating Louisiana and Texas, on Jan. 13, 2022. The animal posed for some time before passing into a property facing Texas.
The Featured Image captures that moment. Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 32, 1/145 sec, 77mm; 11:58 a.m. PST. We next saw the feline along Louisiana, but on the other side of Meade, three days later. Because of location, I assumed we had come upon a different cat, but Annie correctly identified the two sightings as the same beastie.
Be Mine
The menacing palm that you met in April 2021 dresses in holiday-appropriate attire, like Uncle Sam garb for Fourth of July. Now he’s ready for Valentine’s Day in 13 days and has been at least since I captured the Featured Image on Jan. 4, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 2:04 p.m. PST.
Composed as shot, the moment comes from Leica Q2. If you live in, or visit, San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, you can see this terrifying tree on North Avenue between Meade and Monroe.
The Future of Transportation?
As part of its strategy to reduce so-called carbon emissions, San Diego is building bikeways through various close-in neighborhoods. The one starting at Georgia in University Heights and ending at Fairmont in City Heights is complete. My wife and I drove the length along Meade Avenue on Jan. 29, 2022 to attend the free-admission Lunar New Year celebration sponsored by the Little Saigon Foundation. However, Officer Jeremy Henwood Memorial Park and the surrounding area was so packed, and parking so scare, we did a drive-by only.
A series of traffic circles and speed bumps has greatly reduced vehicular traffic along Meade—not that a marked increase in bikers is apparent. What I do see, and this is something that should trouble city planners and their long-term goals: An alarmingly greater number of motor-powered bicycles. Everywhere. Some are pedaled, too, and most are battery-electric. But not all.
Lost and Found
Late this afternoon, my wife informed me that she lost a wrap-around bracelet while we walked earlier. I couldn’t have that and insisted on going out searching for the accoutrement, starting by retracing our route in reverse. About 10 minutes later, I found the lost item on the sidewalk below where she pressed the button to cross Florida Street along El Cajon Blvd. A brewery sits at the corner, and people mulled all about. I was surprised that no one had whisked away the pretty little thing.
I snatched up the bracelet in a smooth motion as I gleefully strutted one shoe after another. With all the turmoil going on around us during the post-pandemic and early economic crisis era, moments where I feel sense of control of something are rewarding.
The Cats of University Heights: Cuddles
For the last Caturday of the month, meet a kitty whose appearance is remarkable. I first spotted the black in a side alley separating multi-unit residences on Jan. 13, 2022, around 4:45 p.m. PST. My wife encountered the same shorthair sometime later, either on that street or the next. She doesn’t recall which but says the animal crossed Meade Ave.
That’s where we both met the meowing kitty three days later, one block further along. The tiny eyes, seemingly fixed stare, wide face, and white whiskers give impression of something stuffed rather than living. If I hadn’t heard the cat or seen it move, I would guess that some child lost a plushie.
The House on Cleveland
Today’s question: How much longer before this lovely home is demolished and replaced with something ill-suited to the street? On Dec. 2, 2021, I used Leica Q2 to take the Featured Image, after my wife read about the property in University Heights Community Association News. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 100, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 12:18 p.m. PST.
According to public property records, the place sold for $1.595 million during October 2021. UHCA News reports: “This charming Victorian home at 4350 Cleveland is 2,000 square feet with 3 bedrooms and 2 baths and built in 1905, according to the 2015 Uptown Historic Resources Survey Report”.
Don’t Drive Plastered
Is there some metaphor or deliberate message here? Hodad’s is a popular burger joint in Ocean Beach, Calif.—if the persistent waiting lines are any indication (unless seating is inadequate; I wouldn’t know). As you can see from the Featured Image, the restaurant’s vintage Volkswagen minivan is plastered with stickers, such that anyone sensible shouldn’t drive it. Safety first!
The eatery also sells craft beer. Being plastered is a euphemism for intoxication, in which state no responsible person should be behind the wheel of a vehicle. So is it coincidence that a place that brews beer parks its plastered VW nearby? I should have asked someone when in OB on Nov. 17, 2021 carrying Leica Q2. Photo vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 12:30 p.m. PST.