Fear appears to be one of the most popular peddled commodities on the planet, currently and has been for some time. Tomorrow, across the United States “No Kings” protests are planned in communities large and small; these folks are afraid of Donald Trump.
U.S. immigrants—and not necessarily illegal ones—are afraid of ICE (Immigration, Customs, and Enforcement) agents. Many federal employees are afraid about losing their jobs or benefits, while receivers of federal funds fear losing them.
The third weekend of the month is the book-sale room at the University Heights Public Library. The place is on the same street as yesterday’s fire and about two blocks walk away. My wife and I had to see the aftermath.
Annie saw the signs first, as my eyes were drawn to charring along the building’s right front section. As you can see from the Featured Image and companions, some neighbors are quite displeased with what, reportedly, is a recent series of incidents occurring on the property—and this most recent fire not the first.
The big, unexpected news and social media story this week here in University Heights is the sudden closure of the Red Fox Steakhouse and Piano Bar. According to bloggers, Facebookers, Journalists, Nextdoor posters, and more (oh, the dirt they sling): Management called staff to an all-hands meeting midday Monday (today is Wednesday) and fired everyone. Red Fox was closed immediately.
Except for San Diego Union Tribune wrongly calling the location North Park most of the scuttlebutt appears to be consistent but lacking one thing substantive: Why? Since everything in business is one way or another related to money, speculation and second-hand former employee reports indicate financial hardship. That would make sense, if, say, there was cashflow problems that prevented buying staples—like raw meat and veggies to cook and serve. Who knows.
Two weeks ago, my wife and I shopped at the Grocery Outlet on Waring Road, which is sandwiched between San Diego neighborhoods Grantville and Del Cerro. I tend to blitz through the grocery store. Annie is more deliberate, thoughtful, and so she tends to take longer.
So, I had some free time to mill about the strip mall, where is the ever-so non-descript TC’s Rockets comic bookstore. On another Saturday, I ventured into the cavernous space, where—beyond the racks and stacks of goodies for sale—guys (mostly) spread out on long tables and engaged in various role-playing games. Oh, the joy, of seeing real board gaming and imagination, rather than dudes planted in front of the TV, controller in hand.
In the area of San Diego where we live, a look at most any window can reveal signage—most commonly: BLM, rainbow flag, resist (Trump), and occasionally an upside-down American flag, for example. So, surprise me (and perhaps you): The cross seen in the Featured Image, on April 3, 2024, along Park Blvd, a few blocks from the zoo.
Except for the few churches, I can’t recall ever seeing a cross so brazenly displayed in a neighborhood where people demand what they can get rather than what they can give—like the rainbow house of, ah, worship that claims “Love is Love is all You Need”. Ah, no.
This afternoon, my wife and I stood in line to collect new San Diego Zoo passes; I restarted our resident annual membership, yesterday. Nearly five years have passed since our list visit—July 2020. We stopped because of price increases.
We paid $112 for our annual passes during 2018—for two people. For 2025: $111.60 each, so essentially double the cost seven years ago, with the same basic benefits—such as no blackout dates. However, we benefitted by receiving discounts for being 65 or older and being returning members. Otherwise, the annual pass would have been $134 each.
I (rightly) complain a lot about the insane amount of residential building going on in San Diego—much of it obliterating charming cottages or Craftsman-like homes and greenery galore. (What’s the use of having a backyard for the kids to play when you can build an Accessory Dwelling Unit and rent it, eh?)
That said, the city also is lush, with well-manicured properties packing yard spaces full of flowers, plants, trees, and other natural paraphernalia that add charm and character. Consider the Featured Image, captured two days ago using Nikon Zf and NIKKOR 40mm f/2 (SE) lens, to be representative.
Results of routine bloodwork brought me to walk through Hillcrest today. Along Cleveland Ave., I passed the progressive church with the rainbow doors, where the banner in the Featured Image rather riveted my attention. The congregation is studying fascism for Lent? Not scripture? Not Jesus’ life?
You know what rhymes with Lent? Repent. That would be a great place to start and more scriptural. Fascism studies turns the attention of parishioners to the sins of others when they should be digging up their own and offering them with repentance. What did Jesus say about taking the log out of your own eye before the speck in your brother’s eye?
What do I know about collectibles? Nothing! For months, I have passed by these three, looking out a window onto Monroe Avenue in North Park—and a few blocks beyond my neighborhood of University Heights.
If Google image search has it right, these creatures are part of the Featherly Friends Christmas Collection sold by Target. At least one is from the 2024 edition. I can’t speak to the others.
A series of storms pelted San Diego County most of this (business) week. Sun would appear between some of them, and winds raged during transitions, too, and throughout some of the heaviest rainfall periods.
Yesterday, during hours of respite, I used Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra to capture the Featured Image, which didn’t turn out as anticipated. The city road sign, which perched on the corner a day or two earlier, was mostly submerged in a massive puddle. But, somehow, that nuance is lost in this shot and another two (unpublished).
Five years ago, I shared with you a quick photo of the local psychic shop, asking: “Yes, But Did She Foresee the Pandemic?” I could have wondered if she could see the end of her business location. The place closed a few years later, and a vintage clothing store opened. That’s gone, too.
The Featured Image, taken today using Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra, reveals the current tenant. I want to know when Mickey got tatted. With what? Minnie Mouse? One wonders. He hides it well.
There is something strange about the things you pass by often, maybe every day, to which you are blind. You don’t see them. The Featured Image and companion capture portion of a mural that I walked by dozens and dozens of times—simply ignored, until today.
The artwork spans a cement block wall along the alley-side of a home here in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. The motif features kids at play mixed with Eastern religious symbology; pardon my ignorance but perhaps Hindu.