The menacing palm dons the season’s appropriate attire. Perhaps you remember his “Be Mine” Valentine or “Uncle Sam” glam for Fourth of July? He is a grim Easter Bunny, stretching out arms in an embrace that I wouldn’t take. You?
Maybe rather than give out candy, he sees you as the cream-filled treat. So don’t be fooled by the cute ears. The teeth! Look at the teeth.
At the corner where University Heights ends and North Park begins, my wife and I waited to walk across El Cajon Blvd. I turned to see a car come up Texas Street to the intersection; a big `ol dog hung out the window. I pulled around Leica Q2 for a quick shot, not wanting to draw the attention of the driver and possibly to offend him.
The Featured Image is about a 95 percent crop, which deliberately includes price of gasoline—down from a high of $5.96 per gallon as recently as last week at this station and others around my San Diego neighborhood. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 11:38 a.m. PDT, today.
One of University Height’s fixtures is Mystic Mocha, which through change of ownership survived the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 shutdowns mandated by California Governor Gavin Newsom and also San Diego County health authorities.
Today, as my wife and I walked by the place, we happened upon a sign at the corner of Alabama and Mission. I pulled around Leica Q2, knelt down low, and shot the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 11:39 a.m. PDT.
Nested among commercial cathedrals to alcohol and hedonism is the Hsi Fang Temple on Park Blvd in University Height’s main business district. The location is prime real estate that developers drool over, and it’s a spiritual stakeholder among one of the many San Diego communities where Christianity is in decline (see my missive “Is God Inclusive?” for perspective on that values topic).
I occasionally will see Buddhist monks, dressed in their more traditional garb, walking about UH. They are in some ways the biggest reminder of the temple’s presence, in part because the building, while massive, is unpretentious. Street-facing Buddha’s Light Bookstore might draw more attention if open more hours (website says Wednesday evenings and 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekends).
The current housing bubble—and there absolutely is one—bears only modest resemblance to the previous catastrophe, which I warned about in a lengthy August 2005 analysis. Rising mortgage rates already are deflating the 2020’s-decade bubble, but the pop is unavoidable without fundamental changes in the actual market or the myths used to explain existing dynamics.
Since before anyone heard of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19, which economic and societal disruption super-inflated the housing bubble, I had warned about a dangerous trend that ignores common sense observation of national demographics: Among the two largest segments, Baby Boomers are dying off and Millennials aren’t having many kids. As population growth stalls, there will be less demand for housing because there will be fewer people to buy. Meaning: All the babbling about not enough inventory has set into motion an overbuilding frenzy that is sure to deflate home values in the not-so-distant future. Before pandemic lockdowns, I had thought within 10 years. I now expect less than five—if we’re lucky.
Weather forecast of searing heat inspired me to take a long walk this morning before temperature rose—and it did, eventually reaching 35.5 degrees Celsius (96 F) in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. I mostly stayed in the alleys, where buildings’ shadows offered some relief. In the one separating Campus and Cleveland, I came upon a hapless plant, beret of pot.
What you don’t see in the Featured Image—and what I should have captured—is the back passenger tire of a Honda SUV. That precarious placement is what initially drew my attention to the neglected thing. Presumably, someone left out the item as a freebee. Perhaps languished from the second day’s unseasonable scorcher, or already ailing, the wilted plant appealed much less than its pot. Hence the presumed abandonment.
San Diego is embarked on the Herculean task of creating new bike lanes—and they’re seemingly everywhere in Hillcrest, North Park, and University Heights. Today, while standing at Fifth and University avenues, I saw something surprising that probably shouldn’t be: Traffic lights for riders. In a community culture where bikers barrel through intersections like they own the right of way, the city seeks to tame them to the same rules that everyone else abides by.
Hell, yeah. Hey, Two-Wheeler, someone saved your life. Thank them.
On average, about 28 cm (11 inches) of rain falls in San Diego annually. The mild Mediterranean climate means three summer seasons, and the warmest of them is in process of gradually heating up. Sunny days, punctuated by breezes coming off the Pacific Ocean, allow citizens to maximize their living space by extending it outdoors. Businesses do likewise; consider Costco, which customer eatery is outside the warehouse rather than the more common inside location.
The fine climate leads to oddities like the alley art gallery, little house collections, Satanic shrine (well, maybe), or sidewalk lending libraries. The Featured Image is another example. This necklace has hung on this fence for at least six months. My wife spotted it along Monroe Avenue in University Heights on Dec. 11, 2021. She stopped for a photo, because beads and jewelry are her designer passion; I decided to do likewise—using iPhone 13 Pro. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 64, 1/121 sec, 26mm; 10:43 a.m. PST.
The Featured Image is example of a failed photo. I used Leica Q2 to capture the moment on Oct. 15, 2021 and held back sharing because the composition doesn’t work, whether cropped or as shot. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/80 sec, 28mm; 4:32 p.m. PDT.
When stopping to look at the crusty chair, abandoned in a University Heights alley, I thought it would nicely juxtapose with the classic car—both being vintage. My mistake.
I don’t know what to make of this thing. Do you? There is something about the, ah, artwork that conjures images of animal idols worshipped by ancient cultures. As such, I am somewhat hesitant to share the Featured Image, captured today using Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/800 sec, 28mm; 12:44 p.m. PDT. I took another at f/2.8 but prefer this shot.
My understanding is that goats are often associated with the occult or Satan worship. For sure, there is a whole lot of potential symbolic imagery to associate with this thang—and all of it beyond my knowledge to decipher. For example, what’s that emblem on the metal stake through the skull? Are those hanging cogged machine wheels supposed to represent overly large testicles? Or do I make something out of nothing—someone having merely cobbled together junk to make a personal showpiece?
Yesterday, while walking to the used bookstore where receiving a U.S. Constitution booklet and unprompted lecture, I came upon the oddest objects—on the outer fringes of University Heights’ boundary, along Georgia between Howard and Polk. Are these signs in the Featured Image more signs of San Diego bureaucratic bungling? This stretch is part of the Georgia-Meade bikeway, for which someone in the city authorized traffic circles with the wrong community name that later required sandblasting to correct.
Tell me, when have you ever seen a posting stating “Speed Humps Ahead”. Gasp, is that, ah, innuendo for approaching sexual activity (e.g. humping) in hedonistic Hillcrest? Yes, I am being facetious, but it’s not an unreasonable question to ask about the neighborhood.
Along the North Avenue alley, in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, someone put out a leather chair packing soon-to-be seasonal decorations. I came upon the giveaways late morning Feb. 4, 2022 while carrying Leica Q2. […]