COMMUNITY MESSAGE
1.) STORIES
Every story is posted in chronological order under this tab. Many stories not on the Home page will be found here. Please check often.
2.) POST
Post your own very important content. Drop-down menu gives all the options. However, you must sign up as a member/user, above link, to do this! It's easy...It's fun...sharing with neighbors who want to know.
3.) LINKS
Contains live news feed of relevant Rancho Santa Fe information, conversations, as well as real-time posts from partners, bloggers, pundits, pools.
4.) FORUM
Real-time discussions, easy share information and opinions with the community, find out who's talking...smack...instant op-ed, talk.
| Lowest Gas Prices for Rancho Santa Fe, Calif. region |
| San Diego Gas Prices provided by GasBuddy.com |
Stories
|
CARLSBAD ART-ANTIQUE MALL
Not Only Antiques!
2752 State St. Carlsbad, Ca. 10:30---5 Mon ---Sat, Noon---5 Sun. |
|
ANDY'S BARBER SHOP
'Andy never has a bad hair day'
123 W. Grand Ave. Escondido, CA, 92025 760-745-4211 |
|
J Danielle & Co. Staffing
Full-Service Domestic Staffing Placement Agency
www.jdanielle.com (760) 943-8486 |
View by Time: |
A bemused Gary Carter discusses something with me at the Astrodome. Me and Felix Culpa (and a camera) were at the baseball game. Naturally, the Expos offered up The Kid. MY DAY (OCCUPYING) AT THE CROSBY ESTATE -- REDEFINING WEALTH, HEALTH AND MINTY MELTS... Yes, well, it's a fabulous day around Rancho Santa Fe. However, having no money, food and gasoline, to name a few of life's pleasures, it was necessary to do a little foraging in the immediate neighborhood of La Hacienda. Sorry.
YUM
YUM
DOUBLE YUM... OMG! Will you look at that? The back gate to Crosby Estate, somehow ajar. You know what this means.
-------- TIME TO OCCUPY AT CREEPY ESTATE. EXCELSIOR!!! ------------------ ENTERING THE MAGICAL KINGDOM OF CREEPY ESTATE CLUBHOUSE...WHERE IS HARRY POTTER WHEN YOU NEED HIM? FRODO BAGGINS?
FIVE... Time to get back to business. Looks like dinner in the dumpster for us tonight, dears. Perhaps Devorah Rose will come!
I'M HENEREY THE EIGHTH I YAM...SECOND VERSE SAME AS THE FIRST...I'M...
see ya later... Sept. 11, 2001: Local ironworker Paul Pursley spent 10 weeks at "Ground Zero" following attack.
That's where Escondido ironworker Paul Pursley found himself in September 2001 on a first-ever visit to New York City. For the next 10 weeks, in a city reeling with shock, Pursley helped cut away the massive wreckage of the World Trade Center, allowing relief workers to recover some of the 2,992 people killed on Sept. 11.
Pursley flew home on Dec. 6. Later, sitting in the stilliness of a former girlfriend's San Marcos kitchen, he told of the horror of body parts, the sad daily trek through crowds of people anxiously searching for missing loved ones, the kindness of Salvation Army workers and of being able to touch President Bush. "You never found a whole piece, whole people," said Pursley, who worked as part of an ironworkers' union contingent attached to a Yonkers, N.Y., wreckage excavation crew. Twenty men worked the day shift and 20 worked the night shift, he said. "The first few weeks there was nothing really stationary to walk on," Pursley said. "There was so much energy in the pile that stuff would get catapulted 200 to 300 feet in the air. We were cutting through 50-ton pieces of iron. Stuff was all over the place. But the more iron you could cut, the faster firemen could get part of somebody out. "I've never seen anything like that in my life," Pursley said. "The ground was so hot I went through three pairs of boots in the 2-1/2 months I was there."
But the heat, the dirt, the smoke, even the horribly acrid smell and danger of ground zero were nothing compared to the emotional toll, Pursley said. "I was working one day and we found a fireman and a civilian trapped in Tower Two," Pursley continued. "They survived the plane crash, made it down to the lobby but they couldn't get out. That was hard. "It was hard seeing the little kids in town," Pursley said. "Hundreds of people used to line the gates at night when we got off work. They asked: 'Did you see my daddy?' They all were holding pictures. "There was nothing you could tell them," Pursley said. "That was the hardest part. What do you tell them?" Marine to ironworker A 41-year-old Allentown, Pa., native and former Camp Pendleton Marine, Pursley said he was "fascinated" with walking on steel beams as a child. So after receiving an honorable discharge from the Marines with the rank of sergeant he became an ironworker in 1985. He lived in Oceanside before moving to San Marcos in 1998. He moved to Escondido in 2007. Pursley's odyssey to ground zero began in Hartford, Conn. A member of San Diego Ironworkers Local 229, Pursley was on a job for Lewis Equipment of Grand Prairie, Texas. The crew was finishing installing beams with tower cranes for the huge Mohegan Sun Casino around Hartford "the day it happened," he said. "We had a rented van and another job to go to in Washington, D.C.," continued Pursley, a strapping man with a soft voice. "We saw both buildings smoking as we were going by New York on the way. We were in D.C. a day-and-a-half finishing up a job at the convention center. They didn't need our help at the Pentagon but when we finished we asked Kyle Lewis, the owner of Lewis Construction, if we could go to New York and he said, 'Sure, you guys can volunteer there.' "I had never been to New York," Pursley said. "My partner, Rusty Henry from Stillwater, Okla., and myself went there on the (Sept.) 17th, right down to the job site. As long as you were an ironworker you had carte' blanche. Pursley said they worked non-stop the first day. "It was pretty much disorganized with guys everywhere trying to volunteer in the chaos. We went to the union hall the next day," he said. While plenty of police and fire personnel swarmed across the dust-filled, chaotic scene, they couldn't do much without help from skilled ironworkers who cut through the mangled iron and steel with cranes, torches, and big tools, not to mention sweat and desire. Pursley said he and Henry were the only two out-of-town ironworkers at the scene. For 10 long weeks, the steel burners cut up towering beams and iron. "Ironworkers worked every day," Pursley said. "We went on 12-hour shifts starting at 6 (a.m.) or 7 (a.m.) The more iron we cut up, the more firemen we could find. But we only found parts; a hand, a leg, a torso, never a complete body. We found parts from 650 people. You thought you would find somebody alive at first, but we never did." Pursley added: "With all that debris and elevator cables pulling the pile, guys were getting fingers and hands smashed. Lots of accidents. Lots of guys hurt. I thought we were going to be there for a year." Pursley said he and his partner were paid through the union but ended up renting a hotel room in lower Manhattan, then a motel room in Secaucus, N.J., that cost them $6,000 to $8,000. Salvation Army workers brought them food at the site. At the end of a grueling day's shift, the ironworkers would hike a mile to get beyond the crime scene, maybe grab a snack, head out through the Port Authority Terminal on a bus to New Jersey, finally collapsing from exhaustion into motel beds. "People would sit by you on the bus and you were so filthy," Pursley said. "Not even like being dirty, such a weird odor. I'd wash my clothes three times and still they were dirty." Several close calls One of Pursley's closest calls came on Oct. 23, according to a notification filed with construction contractors. Police believed they had cleared out some of the estimated 1.7 million .38 caliber rounds from a destroyed U.S. Customs arsenal at the World Trade Center and directed Pursley to burn iron at one of the swept areas. A loud pop and painful burning of his cheek later, he found himself taken to St. Vincent's Hospital emergency room for treatment. He still has the scar on his face. Alert and in good spirits, Pursley returned to the scene the next day and kept on working. On Nov. 13, a large excavator swung across a debris pile near where Pursley was burning through steel. The pile collapsed and Pursley fell down the 25-foot pile, injuring his left wrist. Medical workers had to use 18 stitches to close the wound, according to an accident report filed with city of New York Department of Design and Construction. When celebrities descended on ground zero to lend support, Pursley took pictures with a disposable camera he bought. He has a picture with actress Susan Sarandon and with Jason Alexander, who played George in "Seinfeld." And President Bush. Pursley said he went up to the President when he toured ground zero and "pulled on his shirt sleeve." "I told him, 'I didn't vote for you, but I'm going to touch you.' " He then took a picture of the surprised president. Thank you letters meant a lot Pursley said he got a lift from schoolchildren's thank you letters forwarded by Salvation Army workers. He said he planned to answer all of the dozen or so letters he brought back to San Marcos. A lot of them shared sentiments like those expressed by Ryan Moran, a sixth grader at Pearson Elementary of Poulsbo, Wash. Addressed to Iron Workers, Ground Zero, N.Y., N.Y., Moran's letter began, "Dear Savers of Helpless Citizens," and continued: "You guys are really brave and your heroic actions during the tragedy will remain in our hearts forever. We know we can count on heroes like you. You've changed everyone's lives." Salvation Army workers also gave Pursley a red-white-and-blue hard-hat signed by many of them with inspirational sayings as a parting gift. "It's our house ---- never forget," one aid worker said. But in the end, the experience was a once-in-a-lifetime, and a fulfilling one, Pursley said. "All the people I met there were fantastic to me," Pursley said. "It was incredible. It was weird leaving and coming home. Hopefully there is closure for the victims and their families." Despite local contractors wanting him to resume work as a foreman, Pursley said he wants to relax for a month. "I have never seen so much iron in my life. I never cut so much steel in my entire life. I hope I never have to again," he said. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well-known New York photographer Joel Meyerowitz took seminal images at Ground Zero, many of which were displayed at a groundbreaking exhibit titled "Echoes of Ground Zero" in 2003. Lawrence Weschler in conversation with photographer Joel Meyerowitz in the living room of the latter’s New York City home, 7 April 2003 is available at the pdf file posted here. This portion of the interview dealt with Pursley, and his iconic image that Meyerowitz displayed next to another iconic...c. 1650 image by the Spanish painter Velazquez.
LW: Well, this. JM: Amazing. What a guy. He was a welder, commonly called a burner down there. His job was to go through the site and as each level was exposed, he would walk through with a torch and burn all the small standing steel so that men could walk through and do their search. LW: Do you know his name? JM: I do know his name . . . Paul Pursley. LW: What is fascinating to me here is that we’re playing off the Velázquez of Mars with his tool and his helmet and his mustache. I don’t want to suggest or insist that you had this specific thing in your head, but you too are treating this worker as a kind of god or a personage of great nobility. JM: I was just going to say that he was noble. The reason I saw him as noble was that he came up the road bend here, and I saw him, and we had just heard a bugler playing Taps, and there were eight of us standing around and we were all in tears and as he came to me I saw this little glint of a tear in his eye – you can see it in the photograph, he’s slightly dewy-eyed. And as he came forward, I just felt the power of this man and his nobility, and I stepped in front of him and just made a photograph. We didn’t have much of an interaction. He really didn’t even pose for me, he just stopped walking. And then I asked him something and he laughed and he said, “I was just wounded today. I was burning the steel and I exploded some ammunition that was buried.” He said, “A piece of bullet shell hit me in the face and I got five stitches under here.” He laughed. He laughed. And then he just stood there and I made this picture and I realized he is heroic. LW: One of the things that’s amazing about Velázquez is how when he chooses to do a god, for perhaps one of the first times in history the god is just some mill worker. I mean, this is clearly some guy who worked as some smithy or something, who knows who he is. This is some guy who is a working-class guy, patently not a nobleman, you don’t think? JM: No, not a nobleman. LW: And yet a god. So, that’s kind of interesting. Casey Anthony gone from Rancho Santa Fe but not forgotten: her RSF attorney Todd Macaluso threatens lawsuit against The Morton Report...
The story from the Morton Report Blog and here has spun near and far with HLN's Nancy Grace devoting helf of her Monday show to the sighting. That's when the kitchen got hot and the going got going, if you catch my drift. An interesting sidebar has developed over this story between Macaluso, with his residence under foreclosure at Rancho Santa Fe according to sources, and The Morton Report. The legal threats by Macaluso directed against Dawn Olsen apparently began when KSWB-TV's Fox Morning Show contacted Macaluso to ask for comments about the reported sighting of Anthony at his disputed property. KSWB also had invited Olsen and myself to the studio for a Thursday morning appearance. Macaluso sent an email to the station making untrue charges, which he forwarded to Dawn and me. In my case, I pointed out I never said I spoke to his neighbors -- the emails are posted below -- and he seemed to apologize, or at least square things with me. Dawn out of Los Angeles, wasn't so lucky. I will start off her account here and then direct you to The Morton Report account of the Macaluso legal threats.
HERE NOW LIVE AND DIRECT TO BEHIND THE SCENES OF A MEDIA INTERVIEW REQUEST GONE WILD....
1.)
Hi Dan
Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.
Have any other local San Diego television stations contacted you?
We'd love to be the first to have you on a san diego morning show.
We're looking at thursday with an interview time of 8:10 a.m.
I'd ask that you arrive by 7:40 a.m. to our studios at 7191 Engineer Rd, San Diego, CA 92122.
You can ask for me when you get there.
Thanks,
Brad Luck
FOX5
From: 92067 Rancho Santa Fe Free Press [92067freepress@gmail.com]
Sent: Tuesday, August 09, 2011 3:22 PM To: Luck, Brad Subject: Re: fox5 kswb san diego request - Show quoted text -
2.)
FYI Regards, Todd Macaluso Sent from my iPhone Begin forwarded message: From: Todd Macaluso <tmacaluso@macalusolawsd.com> BradThe reports of these "bloggers" are completely false. If there any false statements aired, we will pursue any and all legal remedies available by anyone who disseminates such false information. We have verified with our neighbors that no such statements were made to the Ah ha Rancho Santa Fe news or the Morton report. We will pursue an action against Mr. Weiss an and Ms. Olson of false information is disseminated.
3.)
Reply![]()
That's cool, but if you read the story I never said I spoke to neighbors, I cited Ms. Olsen's reporting. I'm very careful in how I approach possibly touchy subjects and have won first place investigative reporting awards from both the California and Florida press associations. Dan
- Show quoted text -
--
Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News, dedicated digital media for an independent and unique population. Visit us at http://ahharsfnews.com/ 4.)
Ok Dan
We are at our wits end with the media.
Regards, Todd Macaluso Sent from my iPhone
- Show quoted text -
4.)
Hi Dan, I’m sorry we actually have to cancel. Something came up and we won’t have the time to be able to do this tomorrow. But please stay in touch and let us know if you write anymore on this subject. Thanks, Brad From: 92067 Rancho Santa Fe Free Press [mailto:92067freepress@gmail.com] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- WELL, THERE YOU HAVE IT...FOR NOW. REMEMBER TO SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL MEDIA!!! WHY I AM BOYCOTTING RANCHO SANTA FE'S JULY 4 ACTIVITIES
THE FOURTH OF JULY should be a great celebration of a great nation, a nation committed to equality of opportunity, charity at home and promoting the cause of freedom around the world. It should be a great time for friends, families and strangers to celebrate our wonderful lives and hopes for the future. What do we have this July 4? We have the amazing increase in disparity of wealth with the top 1 percent of Americans -- YOU AT RANCHO SANTA FE -- controlling 40 percent of the nation's wealth. This economic class gap has increased 100-fold since Ronald Reagan's years. This trickle-down cynical crap is not an "ideology" but an excuse to rip off the majority of people, so the few can enjoy luxury estates, Jaguars and Porsche's, luxury loaf-styles while their countrymen and women scrimp and starve, lack even basic health care or the opportunity to advance economically. Bankers, financial pigs, oil con companies and a lot of YOU around Rancho Santa Fe are responsible for the degradation of the world's climate and opportunity for real Americans so you can drive your luxury MercedesBMWLexus to this parade, pretending you're real Americans instead of greedy frauds. Of course, Reagan raised taxes, but his legacy gave us these sick politicians, and their beneficiaries/sponsors; their endless pork and legislative and tax loopholes; and ever-increasing tax breaks for millionaires and billionaires, their corporate jets and oil companies making billions of dollars monthly while tens of millions of Americans lack even the basics for a fruitful existence or a shot at a better life. Since the people ripping off our children and our future are the ones celebrating the loudest, passing out flags as if it's theirs and not ours, actual patriots will not participate in your farce. Closest to home, the hypocrisy is even more mind-blowing. Start straightaway with Martin Garrick, last year's parade bigwig. He was busted for suspicion of DUI last month at the state Capitol. His public response: A quick, pro-forma apology and back to business as usual. Garrick just sent out a round of emails at taxpayer expense detailing in simplistic form how he was fighting to lower taxes. Thanks for nothing. No, make that thanks for not killing an innocent person while you were driving drunk. Garrick's post-DUI behavior has been outrageous. See ya at the July 4 parade then, slugger. I won't be there. Garrick last year draped himself in red,white and blue as he waved to the crowd and spoke about what a great guy he is, you know cutting taxes and screwing poor people. Of course, Randy "Duke" Cunningham, convicted bribe taking felon congressman, also rode proudly in this parade as grand marshall and flag-draped what-not for years, DECADES even. So, too has Brian Bilbray and Bill Horn, and a number of other GOP politicians and fellow rip-off artists. Screw YOUR July 4, where a bunch of a-holes will be going around parading to the effect they're ripping you and me off, opposing health care for people, attempting to bring down the entire financial structure of the world because they want continued ridiculous tax breaks for the people who don't need them while cutting any help to poor or unfortunate people to the bone. Hey: You want lack of government and lack of oversight protection for people who can't afford it, how dare you even celebrate the Fourth of July that is dedicated to every value and institution you abhor. Oh, that's RIGHT, hypocrisy, the shame of our nation. Sorry, I'm not covering this travesty, not putting it out there as anything more than a sham. I'll leave that to the people with no conscience and no interest in the actual principles of equality and freedom that created our great nation. I believe I am going to boycott his parade, arranged by people who rip off the nation and the world and celebrate July 5, maybe the day we have the start of a new revolution a'la Founding Father's Thomas Jefferson's admonition. The pursuit of freedom is not something left to Egyptians and Tunisians, but to you and me, here and now. Fight On! A SAN DIEGO COUNTY FAIR BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD BE BUTTERED TO BE FRIED AND STUFF...
As for the Fair, these are a few quick Summer Solstice images with more to follow later. I was there when that ride went bonkers and injured the guy and that kid. Hmmm. I also could not bear to be part of the elephant opression clique so wished them solidarity from afar, appropriately enough the Fairgrounds security Apparatchik gathering hole. As I've said, I've got a bunch more, but got to run just now.Anyone wanting to post their own photos, videos and stories from the Fair, feel freeto do so or email them to me at 92067freepress@gmail.com and I'll do it. Dan W.
Marco Lazaro, stung to death by bees, his humanity nearly killed by mainstreet media et al...
Lazaro was clearing brush near San Elijo Lagoon when he suffered more than 500 bee stings as he ran from the backhoe to a nearby shack to avoid the attack, then collapsed there. Paramedics took Lazaro to nearby Scripps Memorial Hospital at Encinitas where he was pronounced dead. He died of anaphylaxis, an allergic reaction to the stings, according to the San Diego Medical Examiner. Experts who later investigated the hive said it was unusually large, containing 60,000 to 80,000 hybrid Africanized bees. The hive had sat undisturbed in the field for untold years, they said. Lazaro was a refugee from the Guatemalan highlands who came to Olivenhain more than 30 years ago, living at the property as a caretaker and landscaper, according to sources. Two aspects of this story struck me quite personally. Bees and Me Firstly, when I was about 10 years old attending summer camp, I horribly ran straight into a beehive and was stung 50 to 100 times. Since now I know experts consider 150 to 300 bee stings enough to immobilize a large person, I can thank my lucky star I wasn't more badly injured that day. As it were, it hurt like hell for a week, or so, and made me bee-shy for a long time. I've gotten over that, and, in fact, love bees. After reading about bee intelligence, I'm impressed, not scared at all. In fact, I give them mad props. For example, did you know bees have incredibly large brains for their size? Researchers believe bees are highly efficient, actually -- just like I pretend to be -- and work only a few hours a day at their appointed tasks. Then, they spend a lot of down-time relaxing, doing whatever they do for fun, and even daydreaming, according to specialists. Oh, the humanity: Poor Marco Lazaro and the even poorer remnants of corporate journalism That's all cool, but the second aspect of the story striking me squarely at its roots, was more disturbing. Marco Lazaro, the person, seemed more like a tragic bystander than victim. Every, and by that I mean EVERY, local news source immediately shifted from Lazaro's death to lame, impersonal, by-the-press-release dissertations on the dangers of bee stings, adding cautionary warnings about what to do in bee attacks, the growth of the bee problem, and related generic nonsense. Marco Lazaro, the victim? Sorry, Charley horses, nothing else to say about him; whether he was a good guy or hard worker, what people thought about him, what he might have accomplished in life, or not.
Despicable excuses for news coverage, which unfortunately was the way of much of the world up to today as journalism was turned into a cash cow to be looted by faux business types starting in the late 1980s. (Locally, you can just look at Gilroy-based Mainstreet Media, publishers of the Rancho Santa Fe Review-Del Mar Times-Solana Beach Something and the Coast News "Group" who may, or may not, still be in business at Encinitas.) So, actual journalists were downsized, and then laid off, in the 2000s as the bottom-feeding, bottom-line non-journalist publishers sought to maximize their greed, a kind of journalistic shadow play of Wall Street and the real estate frauds. Without actual journalists driving coverage, looking for the humanity inside the breaking story rather than its bottom line coverage, people such as Marco Lazaro, went by the wayside, yielding to the mediocrity illustrated by his ultimate story's coverage demise. New digital media partnerships restoring responsible journalism Thank goodness, then, for the Internet and the new digital media environment bringing together citizen bloggers and professional journalists in a responsive, and responsible, partnership. The dinosaur corporate profit-mongering breed is on its way out the door with vastly hyper-bloated overhead costs and no reliable, or interesting, content, hemorrhaging money by the bank account-load. The lean, and not so much mean as appropriately resourced, models such as Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe are thriving. With that said, we return to Marco Lazaro's real-life story. WaveBlog of New Encinitas ran the story the way it should have been run in the first place, talking about the man who was victimized by fate and a wrong turn of his backhoe, not the hype of "bee danger." WaveBlog alone -- citizen journalists -- did the story right. What's left of "professional" -- substitute the word "corporate" -- journalism hyped the alarmist crapola, ignoring the humanity. WaveBlog was there with actual insight and compassion. So, letting you know a bit more about Marco Lazaro, the man, we re-publish, and pass along, the WaveBlog story, which ran without a byline, even, well under the dying media radar, restoring the humanity somewhat to this overlooked, and most important, element lost in corporate journalistic translation. Long story short, please read on... --- Dan Weisman founder/editor Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ MY FRIEND MARCO, GUATEMALAN, STUNG TO DEATH BY AFRICAN BEES IN ENCINITAS In 1989, my wife Sarah and I were expecting our second daughter; Molly Margaret, I was working for Noren Honda and Mike Doyle of Doyle Sports that retailed surf-wear in The Lumberyard on Highway 101, when I was first introduced to Marco Lazaro and his common-law wife, Rosa. A mixed-non-marriage, Rosa from Central Mexico and Marco hailing from the Guatemalan highlands lived in a tin shack in a gully off a barranca on the property of Mrs. Rosemary Woods (Wiegand) on a ramshackle rancho squeezed between Encinitas Country Day School and the San Elijo Lagoon. When the local temps dropped below freezing we always took new blankets purchased at clearance sales to Marco and Rosa. They could have a small fire in the shack to keep warm, but always had to leave the door open to the freezing wind to avoid asphyxiation. Coincidentally, Rosa was a beloved cleaning lady for Walter Steidel who was the San Diego County Regional Retail Vice-President of Robinson’s Department Stores; that my wife, Sarah was a buyer for. There were several connections. Marco was Indio, deeply red skinned and with the almost-Central American ability to build almost anything out of everything to achieve whatever it was you asked of him; as long as you didn’t care what it looked like; and he earned his money. Marco was the most dependable person you ever met and was so cynical in his world-view that just a sour look and squinting of his Asiatic visage would make me break into uncontrollable laughter as I read his mind. Especially when I would come upon one of his phantasmagorical creations tied onto the back of his truck combined with his ability to, somehow, transport everyone else’s cast-offs to Tijuana only to build an entire apartment complex in south-east Tijuana for his common-law non-married mother-in-law; Lourdes, who ended up inheriting a nearly new wheel chair when my own mother-in-law, Beth Lyon faded into the constant shifting mist of Alzheimer’s disease. Then, in 1992, Marco’s mother became ill, and Marco felt duty-bound to travel down to say goodbye to her as she was near death. Normally, I would see him every other Tuesday morning, but as he left to return to Guatemala, it was the last time I saw him for over two years. In January of 1993, Rosa, her sister and mother-in-law (in the Lyon Familia wheelchair) arrived at our home across the street from Park Dale Lane Elementary (where I was the PTA President). Rosa had a bunch of federal paperwork informing us that Marco would not be allowed back in the United States; unless Rosa could prove that there was a job waiting here in Encinitas for him. Thus began an incredible odyssey of California corporation creation, Mexican and Guatemalan Visas, work permits, federal investigators and even, an ex-girlfriend chick fight between Rosa and one of Marco’s former girlfriends…on my front lawn (Don’t ask). Finally, in 1994, I convinced the Feds to allow Marco to travel back over the border and become my full time employee. Marco arrived at my door and we had a little impromptu party as he recounted his adventures with federales, gun thugs, bureaucrats and his mother’s burial trip into the jungles. This lasted for a week until Mrs. Woods rehired him back and having convinced Rosa of his faithfulness during his exile outside of Guatemala City for the two years, Marco was back home again and ready to work. But the economy had changed (Euphemism) and we no longer could afford to have Marco garden nor Rosa clean and straighten. Mr. Steidel, the big Robinson’s boss in La Jolla passed away and Rosa no longer rode the bus to La Jolla every Wednesday to care for the Steidel’s only child and plan her Quincenera. Then, Rosa’s mother passed on; her sister, passed, and after a year without contact, Rosa, came by the house, emaciated with breast cancer she could not afford treatment for and feigning like nothing was wrong, I fixed tea while she and I reminisced about all the people we loved that have passed away and of the great ‘city’ that Marco had built in Calle Obregon, south of the border. Six months later, walking out of the Cardiff By The Sea Post Office, I ran into Marco. (Photo) Tears came to his eyes as he recounted Rosa’s last days and he reached inside his truck for he wanted to bring some of the porcelain animals my daughters had made for Rosa at Carla’s Art Camp back a dozen years earlier to my girls; as one of Rosa’s last requests. I snapped a quick photo of Marco so I could show my daughters that he was still alive and cooking, and then a week later I fell ill and before I knew it, I was in surgery. I did not see my friend, Marco again. Over the years, he’d helped me move several times, was a guest at my home, was Mr. Dependable at all times; had one of the keenest abilities to read people (Especially Noren ‘Napoleon’ Honda) and also had one of the trippiest naturally spikes of a hair for all time. WEDNESDAY, June 16, 2010 We all shuddered at the table and asked for more morbid details. The next morning, just before 5:00 a.m., I jumped on the computer and popped up the local daily and to my horror, slowly my disbelief became tears boiling out of my eyes and down onto my keyboard. My friend Marco, who I had jumped through federal hoops to return my longtime friend to his common-law wife, Rosa, had died an incredibly painful and violent death. Stung to death by 500 ‘Africanized’ bees on Mrs. Wood’s rancho. Marco absolutely did not deserve to die the way he did and I am sure that somewhere today, maybe many places in Calle Obregon, many a candle is being burnt for Marco and Rosa; as we held our own prayer vigil for him with some smoking votives surrounded by the porcelain animals that Marco had returned to Amanda and Molly after his life mate had passed on. Vaya con dios, mi amigo. Yes, go with God. Your very hard, very happy life is finally over. We hope you are at peace. Marco, my friend... ...For more from WaveBlog, visit http://newencinitasnetwork.org/blog/?p=313 FALLING UP -- COMINGS AND GOINGS AROUND RANCHO SANTA FE, CALIF. AREA WITH DAN WEISMAN
Some short takes from around town this week, A few of these are in the what da ya know variety, but if you didn't' see them here, you wouldn't see them anywhere. Somewhat surprising stuff if I do say so myself in best Ed Grimley fashion. Actually, I first wrote an amazing 5,000 word diatribe to go with this update. a lot of it was talking about what a little money would do for us here, but then it sounded kind of whiney although totally true. So, I'll skip it for now. The story began: "I'm continually amazed about the quantity and quality of stories around Rancho Santa Fe, Olivenhain, Del Dios, etc. that go unreported and unrecognized..." And away we go... COMINGS
Farm Fresh Market always was a bit of a misnomer. Oddly out of sync with this, the most upscale of areas
GOINGS
I've spoken to Gracie a few times over the years and have so much respect for her it's funny, since I don't usually think much of...well, anyway, this lady so has it together I'm sorry we're not married. So there, I said it.
Sadly, however, she closed her Del Rayo Village store after a dozen years, and after closing her Paseo Delicias shop last year. The shops were doing surprisingly well in these economic times, but Gracie wanted t take personal time to spend with family and such. Joining the glorious heritage of the dearly departed Robyn Nussbaum Shoe Lounge, these two stores should be in the Fairbanks Ranch Merchants Hall of Fame as charter members. Salutations and salute.... DUMPSTERS (DIVING OPTIONAL)
I've said it before and I've said it again. Rancho Santa Fe has the BEST of everything, including the BEST DUMPSTERS FOR DIVING IN THE WORLD.
In my humble opinion, however, these particular dumpsters reign supreme. I am naming them the #1 dumpsters for diving in San Diego County and possibly the West Coast (haven't been to Montecito or Atherton lately). A special Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News shout-out then. Do you recognize these dumpsters. the finest dumpsters in all the land. IF you do, we will be having a special flash mob meet-up there 4 p.m. Sunday, June 19. See ya there.
RANCHO SANTA FE FIRE STATION #3 This is your big boy. The $5 million uber-fire station and training facility at 6356 El Apajo, across the street from Helen Woodward Animal Center is WAY behind schedule and...Cool, but did you know there were some political shenanigans taking place behind the scenes, too. Maybe that has something to do with the delay. That story continues to develop and will be addressed later in June.
As for Fire Station #3, Rancho Santa Fe , we sing praises of thee...Once promised for May, May has gone and now the new date is when? Whenever they get round to it, I guess, they haven't provided an update. Oh well. MISCELLANEOUS Lemon Twist now open 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesday to Sunday at 8175 Del Dios Highway Rancho Santa Fe, CA 92067 - (858) 756-0826. Good stuff! But what about this outrage? I'm "outing" this "scoop" at the end since it's such a scandal, but a dumb scandal. The former proposed site for the ill-fated moronic 'The Lilian' mixed-BS development -- it went belly-up and couldnt get any county permits by the way -- has morphed and phoenix-like risen from its own ashes as THIS...Plaza de Acacias monstrosity. Same song, different verse. You will be reading it's unfiltered PR line soon enough at the Ecinitas Coast News and Rancho Santa Fe at Carmel Valley, San Diego Review, but this is the first of what it looks like and good luck to this piece of tomfakery. YEAH THAT'S HOW WE ROLL! All for now folks.... Lee DeWyze is trending this week. Remember him? Really. Really? Lee DeWyze is trending this week. Remember him? Really. Really? Lee DeWyze was last year's winner of American Idol. No kidding. Huh. What. When? Fame is so fleeting. Cyberspace was abuzz this week with the fallout from last year's American Idol winner either not being invited to take part in the big Wednesday Finale or being asked at the last-minute, and refusing, depending on the source. DeWhodat was there alright and quite square, according to many sources, including zap2it, reporting Dewyze twitter feeds -- how 2011 -- saying he "was not asked to be involved in the finale. It wasn't until about 2 minutes before they announced that Nigel (Lythgoe, executive producer) had approached me and asked if he could 'borrow' me for a second. I didn't feel a last second jump on stage was right. It was Scotty (McCreery)'s moment." One year after being No. 1 with a bullet star of America's top-rated TV show, DeWyze already is a where-is-he-now type story. Did he actually release any music last year. Dunno. Where did he tour - New York, Chicago, Los Angeles? Nope, Malaysia. The DeWyze DeWhodat story raises so many issues on so many levels about American culture and society though. Despite reality show popularity, nobody remembers 99 percent of the cast members as soon as the shows end. Even the winner of the most popular reality game show in America, circa. 2010 is almost unrecognizable a year later, a cyber of an afterthought.
Since this is the case, might not a reasonable person argue reality shows are evil and part of the reason for a general decline in cultural values and social achievement. The reality shows promote narcissism and instant gratification in lieu of principles such as hard work and talent that once were important in America. Wouldn't America be better off without these abominations, and Americans be better off with, say Shakespeare plays, more cultural, educational and nature programming or other real, non-reality programming. Lee DeWyze and America's demise Who is choosing all these reality shows anyway? News flash: Corporate flunkies with no true connection with really real people, and not the Real Wives franchise of their imaginary kind. (Guess the network yes-people greenlight these shows because they are cheap to produce, but at what cost to society and even America's future.) It also goes to the Idol experience. The namby-pamby non-criticism of judges Steven Tyler, Jennifer Lopez and Randy ??? instead of Simon Cowell's over-the-top honesty meant the voting public had no clue how to vote. So, the best talent went weeks before two country western mediocrities competed for the top spot. Even DeWyze on his twitter feed figured he needed to do some reminding. The feed proclaims: "American Idol Season 9 Winner!" just to let people know. The twitter feed had 92,717 followers this week, nor exactly mind-numbing figures on a social media outlet where celebrities routinely get hundreds of thousand of followers. If DeWyze is so easily forgotten, where does that leave country cornball Scott McCreery. Never was Idol's artificial promotion machine so obvious as the propping up of this kid as some sort of heart-throb, usually surrounding him with several clueless teenage girls. Come on man. And since when did American Idol become American Country Idol? The real question amidst the whatever happened to Lee DeWyze American Idol finale confusion isn't what happened to American Idol, but what happened to America. What do you think? BRIEF MESSAGE ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENIN' NOW: State of the state at Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe, Calif. News by Dan Weisman...
However, to make ends meet, I have had to take on freelance copywriting jobs. As much as my landlord loves Rancho Santa Fe and Del Dios, he also does not accept ad space in lieu of rent. This is the only source for legitimate information and journalism about the community and will continue. In fact, as those who have followed the "war" between the Encinitas Coast News and Gilroy-owned Rancho Santa Fe Review at Carmel Valley know, both print outlets have been hemorrhaging money for years due to poor content, no readership, huge overhead and despicably, poor management. They now have turned against each other with threats of blackmail and litigation in a cat fight to the death. The point is these two faux outlets will be out of business much sooner than later and Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News will be the only community journalism outlet moving forward. HOWEVER PART TWO: Quality journalism needs a little, and a relatively amazingly little, quality funding Despite some fine advertisers, whose banner and mid-rise ads we proudly display -- patronize them please, people -- these ads alone have not paid the rent. Many people come up to me on a daily basis and say how much they enjoy Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News and appreciate the effort. Many of these people are millionaires living in amazing estates, driving around very fine vehicles. Now, if you want to talk about trickle-down economic theory, wake up call. It's not too late, but understand if you want quality to continue, it only takes AS MUCH MONEY AS ONE MEAL AT DELICIAS OR MILLE FLEURS from a few special people to make it so.
With that said, the tremendous, unique, invitation-only beta test content management system we use is going to change. The founder left the company last year and they have phased out operations. Through my contacts as a fellow at Knight Digital Media Center, University of Southern California, we have an equally exciting, state-of-the-art CMS lined up and ready to go. Exporting all of this web site -- and I mean ALL of this site -- and transferring material to the new site will take a period of time. I am estimating it at two weeks, but do not know for sure. So, there will be a brief disruption in information level....
...The fact is this site can continue indefinitely due to low overhead and cutting edge web journalism techniques. But it will take money -- and we're talking maybe $100 a day -- to do all the amazing things for the community that are possible. It will get done one way or another, but that's the tale of the site through June. We got a lot of stuff here and I will be posting when time allows, so ENJOY! 'Mr. Sherman' from Surveillance Pelicana, a Web novel in several parts.... (From time to time I guess I'll post portions of a conntinuing online fiction meant to entertain in the Dickensonian manner updated for the 21st Century Interweb. I mean why not, right? Dan W.) Act begins stage right. A bell rang signifying a change of school periods. The boys entered the third floor classroom. They sat at wooden chair-desks still excited by the brief freedom afforded in the temporary suspension of school discipline and order. They were impervious, not noticing any particular differences before their twinkling eyes. Mr. Sherman has drawn a white chalk picture on the blackboard. He sits stage left surrounded, almost obscured, in his chair. Boys chattered aimlessly until one by one they sensed the need to desist. Mr. Sherman did not have to call them to attention. He psychically willed their motor-mouths to simmering stops. "Yes. Yes. You are quiet then," Mr. Sherman noted in his strange turn of tone, a kind of cocktail hybrid of geek with a twist of Marine drill sergeant. "I call your attention to what I have drawn on the blackboard." He pointed with a ruler. "Consider the weeds I have drawn. The weeds that all of you, myself, and everyone you know, and will know, are mired in, trapped like animals, inextricably bound, unable to escape, unable even to imagine escape." (Mr. Sherman had a funny way of pronouncing certain words and a masters degree in literature from the University of Michigan to validate his erudition. So, he pronounced Oedipus as Oy-Ay-Di-Puuuus, for example, as the class went Greek from time to time.) "Oy-Ay-Di-Puuuus is down there." Mr. Sherman pointed to the ground. "Clytemnestra is down there. Your mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers are down there. The smartest person you will ever meet in your life is down there. And yes, even I am down there. "Now, look above, above up there to the top of the blackboard." Everyone looked over, under, through the blackboard with X-ray visions blurring. Nothing, sorry. "That is God or what we call God or what others call what they call the ultimate being," Mr. Sherman continued monotone unabated. "The beginning and end of time. That is off the blackboard. No one can see it. "Now, just beneath the edge of the board, but significantly higher than the weeds is this," continued Mr. Sherman. "Look. Look." Mr. Sherman had drawn three white clouds set on the blackboard sea. "This is where one person reaches," he said. "One person can find this place, a place above the weeds where the vista is clear."
"He could look down upon the weeds and everyone in the weeds, but there is no need to bother. He does not care what the weeds contain, what the weed persons do with their brief time in the weeds. No. No. Never." Mr. Sherman's voice rose like a reedy flute, piercing the psychic atmosphere marked by half-listening, barely comprehending 16 year old youths. "No. He has made it to a place above the weeds and he can never look back. He is up there," Mr. Sherman held a hand up to the cloudy picture, "and all of us are down there," and pointed with the ruler to the weeds. "You are a dull class," Mr. Sherman said. "In fact, when they gave me your class they warned me these boys care not to learn. They are stupid boys. They only are interested in becoming businessmen, bankers, lawyers, whatever. "They warned me. Do not waste your time, your energy with boys such as these. They will not benefit. Simply teach them the lesson and wish them good luck on their way to wherever they are going. "I have seen you boys for nearly a year and I must agree. You are the worst class I have ever taught. You will live your lives and make what you will of them. That is nothing to me. You are stupid boys. "But I have drawn this picture and wasted my valuable time all these months for a reason. What reason is this I see you ask with your dull eyes. I will tell you. "While you and I are stuck in the mud, hidden from the higher truth of order by these wretched weeds, unable to get out or climb above; one of you is exempt from this inhumane status of humanity. "Yes. Yes," Mr. Sherman's thin voice seeming to rise like a fine mist, "look at your classmates. Look to the right and left, behind and in front. One of you is here," and pointing to the blackboard clouds. "One of you stupid boys is wisest of all, wiser even than me although he does not realize it. One of you is above the weeds. This boy among all of we weed eaters, this boy who does not realize what he is. For this boy, I have done everything. "I have sweated at night and prepared these many months of lessons even as you did not comprehend them, perhaps never will, or might eventually come to realize a small portion. But this boy above the weeds comprehends, and yes, understands even, understands all I have spoken, perhaps without realizing it as yet. "I have done everything that I have done for this boy, this one boy who will rise above you, above me. I have told only him about Oy-Ay-Di-Puuuus and Shakespeare's sonnets. "One boy out of all, and you know what, I will not tell you who he is. You will never hear that from me. "He might be you," Mr. Sherman pointed at a dull lad. "Or you, or you, or you," pointing at different students. "You must always wonder who he is. It might be anyone. It might be he who none suspect, none of you even vaguely consider. "Or it might be you," pointing to Bob Lippman, straight 'A' honor roll Mensa student. "Or you," pointing to Andy Suchin, the worst 'D' student one planet earth, "or you or you... "You must always wonder who he is for you are in the weeds. But this special boy will know the higher order that even I can not possibly understand, nor could I should I live an eternity. He knows this intuitively. He knows this without asking. "I have done all I can to help him. I have devoted myself to him, this secret boy. I will never utter his name. The rest of you are irrelevant. The rest of you are cattle. "I only hope this person remembers what I said and what I tried to show him. I hope he has pity on me when he remembers my unworthiness. I hope I have been of some small service to him. "Class dismissed." Initial shock gave way to boys quickly gathering belongings, throwing them into book bags. They feared Mr. Sherman -- usually a stickler for detail and punctuality -- might change his mind, considering he had dismissed class with 20 minutes remaining on the clock. Mr. Sherman sinks in his chair scene stopped. (That was the last lecture Mr. Sherman ever gave the class for he was terminated suddenly, and without public explanation, the next week. Circumstances were unclear although whispers of gay indiscretions refused to die.) Time stopped at Santana High School, Santee, Calif. on March 5, 2001 - Student Andy Williams, 15, kills 2, wounds 13...
Ever wondered why the North County Times is about one shade better than a middle school newspaper, maybe, on the NCT's best day? Listen to this, then. Executive editor Kent Davey -- still Peter Principle-ing away there, paradigm of news judgment -- and Teresa then-Hineline, ditto, told us this was a bad idea. Incredulous, we broke off our mission seeking "wild art" and bee-lined to the Escondido newsroom. Upon returning, we pleaded our case with a sense of urgency knowing this was a story of national significance. Davey and Hineline, though, continued to hold us back, arguing it was a bad idea because Santee wasn't in the North County Times coverage area. They absolutely didn't want us to go. We persisted until it almost became physical. To his credit, then-business editor John Van Doorn -- who had been a New York Times employee for several years -- interceded. Davey was shaking his head, but finally relented. That drive south was faster than a speeding bullet. We knew we hadn't a moment to waste. We hit the ground running at the outdoor shopping mall across the street from Santana High. It was a scene straight out of Libya today. Students, parents, shopkeepers, later police, were strewn across that asphalt parking lot in madcap frenzy. Amazingly, despite Davey-Hineline's delaying tactics, we were the first San Diego-based journalists on the ground. A reporter from the Los Angeles Times and a CNN crew had made it there as well. That was it. The 10-year anniversary of San Diego's personal brush with school murder is this Saturday, March 5. It's been controversial as well. Santee Mayor Randy Voepel this week criticized a private memorial at the school scheduled to commemorate the ghastly event. Grossmount Union High School District, nevertheless, will close the school on Friday for its private memorial. Voepel plans to hold a public service at noon, Saturday at the concrete Santana High School sign fronting the school entrance at North Magnolia Avenue. For the record, this is my coverage of the incident along with a video interview this week with the San Diego County Sheriff's deputy who took down the shooter, Andy Williams; a video made real-time behind the scenes at ABC News as Peter Jennings and ABC News covered the breaking event; as well as Williams, in his own words, last year. For the Record, Part II, Davey continued to criticize the newspaper covering an event outside its alleged coverage area and had to be persuaded vigorously, and vehemently, the next day to allow us to return to Santana for the follow-up story. Of course, I've won more statewide press association awards for local news coverage since leaving that newspaper than the entire staff of the North County Times combined. And Ah-Ha RSF News has greater web traffic than the North County Times, a 75,000-circulation daily newspaper distributed from Del Mar to Riverside. But we digress. Shooter Charles Andrew "Andy" Williams turned 25-years-old last month and is serving a 50-years-to-life sentence for the murder of Bryan Zuckor, then-14 years old, and Randy Gordon, 17. Williams also wounded 13 people in the worst school shooting incident since Columbine High School in 1999. Believe it (or not) Williams has an advocacy website here called "Andy Speaks.".We'll show you a bit more of that distasteful exercise at the end of the story package.
Santee students describe a scene of fear and disbelief DAN WEISMAN Staff Writer SANTEE ---- Time stopped at 9:22 a.m. Monday at Santana High School.
John Schardt, a junior, stood about 10 yards from Williams, who allegedly was peppering a nearby bathroom with bullets. "I didn't think about myself," Schardt said. "I didn't think about anything. It was surreal. That's why I had no fear." Schardt was in a photography class and picked up a video camera as soon as he heard shots ring out in what quickly became a bloody quadrangle just beyond the classroom's glass panes. "I said it must be fake, ran and grabbed my camera," Schardt said as he stood in the Albertson's Shopping Center parking lot across the street from the high school, a couple of hours after the shootings. "You saw people running, trying to get away from the shooting. I saw one person in a fetal position in the quad who was shot. I viewed the rest through the windows of a classroom." Tiffany Lynch, a 14-year-old freshman, said she had just emerged from a first-period math class around 9:15 a.m., a class also attended by the alleged shooter.
"He liked to joke around a lot," Lynch said of Williams. "He never seemed serious. He had been talking about having a gun. His friends told him he would never use it and to stop talking about that.
"Pretty soon he started getting serious. They started patting him down (for weapons) every day (at school). They did it today and didn't feel anything." But, as first period yielded to second period and Lynch, along with Williams, went into the hall, the world turned topsy-turvy along a hallway leading to a bathroom by the small quad. "I heard the gunshots and people started running over," Lynch said. "I thought it was a joke. Then I saw people running toward the parking lot area." Zina Ravin, a senior in a nearby classroom, said she heard three gunshots that "sounded like fireworks, and all of a sudden I was scared. I knew Travis Tate (Gallegos) was shot in the head. Everybody started running 100 miles an hour. "A person was laying in a room near where my brother Allen was," Ravin said. "My dad called and said, 'Find your brother as soon as you can. Stay put and follow instructions.'" Senior Lori Zarza "saw a couple of kids fall, and after that everybody was going. A kid was running with blood from his mouth. I was hiding behind a lunch cart. I wasn't really scared." Zarza probably saved her life by moving away from the cart, because at that point, Schardt said, the alleged gunman was "smiling, shooting in a southward direction." "He was wearing a blue sweat shirt," Schardt said. "He went into and out of a bathroom, fired a couple more shots and started pointing the gun at somebody else. He wasn't aiming at one particular person. He was blind-aiming at people and shot out the lunch cart at the wall. I was 30 feet away, parallel to him." Students milled around the school parking lot comforting one another hours after the incident. San Diego County sheriff's deputies and a host of chaplains and counselors counseled them between hugs and sobs. An impromptu private counseling area was set aside by authorities inside a nearby Round Table Pizza parlor. No media members were allowed inside. For most, expressions of grief mixed with disbelief. Schardt said he had "a sick, sick feeling inside when I heard about the people who died. It hits you differently when it is your school." And for Debbie Howie, it was a hectic, and unexpected, morning interruption from her job at a nearby Kmart as daughter Lori Mason ran away from school down a long, and fearful, block home to call. "I'm still shook," Howie said. "You don't know what will happen next. The families are picking up the pieces." Mason cast a wan look at Santana High School's yellow sign proclaiming "G Ball 6 p.m. at Cox Arena; Thur G soccer." The sign stood amid a chaotic scene of armed authorities and wandering students, parents and school officials. And in Mason's hand: a small bouquet of yellow flowers. "These are Santana's color," Mason said quietly. "I'm going to put them by the front sign for the people who died from our school." Santana High School Shooting 2001
Believe it or not, some people look at Williams in a positive light. A website devoted to him here appears to have kept current through May 2010. This is a sample... May 2010
All, Hey everyone, I know I know, it's been quite a while since I've written the site but I think it's more I've been busy than it's slipped my mind because it does weigh on my mind, the infrequent letters on my part, and I aplologize. All has been well with me. I don't remember when exactly I last wrote but a little under a year ago I transferred prisons again. Happy to be back in Southern California, the trek up to the northern part of the state was definately not a productive one for me. I've learned that we get strength from struggle. So I'm definately stronger for it. I'm a year away from my A.A. degree which seems like I've worked on, off and on, mostly off thruth be told for 7 years. Then onto the next degree I suppose. I'm currently a cook in the prison main kitchen, I consider it a good day if I don't get a steam burn or any type of cuts. I'm hanging in there and truly do appreciate those of you who have hung with me the last 9 + years. Thank you. Andy One Degree of "Dr. Strangeglove" -- The Jack Cust Story...
The ghost of Richard Lee "Dick" Stuart was alive and well the evening of Thursday, May 1 at Angel Stadium of Anaheim on Gene Autrey Way.Many of you weren't born when Stuart, infamously known as Dr. Strangeglove following the Stanley Kubrick 1964 classic of the same name, held court and, oopsy-daisy, drop-kicked balls from 1958 to 1969. Stuart didn't just butcher the rawhide. He stewed, filleted, shaked, baked, folded and otherwise mutilated balls with all the aplomb of a blind elephant in a pottery barn. Shameless on defense, and almost defiantly so, the good-humored -- Thank goodness, for he was a giant -- Stuart's record 29 errors at First Base set while toiling for the Boston Red Sox stands preeminent even today. Frank Litsky's New York Times obituary for Stuart upon his death from cancer at age 66 in 2002 quoted Bobby Bragan calling old Stonehands -- Stuart's pre-strangeglove moniker -- the worst outfielder he ever saw. Add quote Litsky: When the public-address announcer at Pirates training camp once told the spectators, ''Anyone who interferes with the ball in play will be ejected from the ballpark,'' Danny Murtaugh, the Pirates' manager at the time, said, ''I hope Stuart doesn't think he means him.'' Oh by the way, Stuart also hit 228 home runs -- pre- pre-steroids. In 1963, when he set the record for errors, he also led the American League in RBI's with 118. This in the modern dead ball era before the mounds were lowered and the hitters designated. Which brings us full circle to a fatefully unexpected Thursday this side of Los Angeles where the county turns orange. That awful thud. The shameful bounce. A Bugs Bunny cartoon of a fly ball clank clank, you never gonna get that baby back. And the reincarnation of Dick Stuart incarnate, in the form of Jack Cust, Left(out)fielder, Oakland's A's, committing the ultimate honors in anti-defense.
That bitter play! Sweet nostalgia. Not heard nor such audacious non-play seen for so many lonely moments and now this. Give Cust credit for he probably never heard of Stuart. But Lawdy, Miss Clawdy, he did the greatest Dr. Strangeglove impression possible. First, he looked up to see the routine fly ball drift ever so graciously to Left Field. Ever confident -- and nobody looked more confident than Stuart right before each next gaffe -- Cust held up his glove awaiting the expected result. Hosanna and look out below, the ball fell flush on a closed glove, bounced about 20 yards away and resulted in disaster, Angels flying around the basepaths. What Cust had done was cover his eyes with his glove. He never stood a chance. But Cust is a playa, if not a fieldah, per se. Almost nonchalantly, he retrieved the ball, missed the cut-off man -- perfect, if this were Superman's Bizarro World, but here not so much -- and eventually departed the field at inning's end. Cust's no love for Mr. Glove did Stuart even prouder then. As Stuart often did, Cust went the distance and then some. Made up for it all with a ringing home run sparking an eight-run Fifth Inning that won the A's the game. So imperfect in the damn field, Cust was perfect at the plate going four for four, walking twice and scoring three runs.
Somewhere, this side of heaven, maybe a field of dreams at Dyersville, Iowa, Dick "Dr. Strangeglove" Stuart is picking up that image of Jack Cust on the defensive cusp as he kicks and klunks a routine ground ball into a two-base adventure before hitting a game-winning grand slam. Somewhere, the A's are playing today. And Jack "The New Stonehands" Cust with Dr. Strangeglove as his wingman -- all props to Pharrell and Snoop Dog -- is dropping it like it's hot. EDITOR'S DESK: Elucidating and repudiating the myths of Ronald Reagan's legacy
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-- Dan Weisman, Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe founder/editor With all due respect, the overblown hype surrounding Ronald Reagan's presidency on the part of Republican stalwarts is long overdue for a much needed reality check and historical correction. Reagan's legacy of eliminating government and empowering self-interest -- and by extension, greed -- of neglecting the many rungs of society in favor of "trickle-down" chimeras ultimately is what brought America to its current condition, on the mat and greatly in need of a massive makeover. The so-called "Reagan Revolution" was nothing more than an attempt by those with power and money to keep what they have and get as much more as possible. Obviously, it worked well for them since the disparity of wealth from rich to poor is the greatest in U.S. history since the 1880s, the Gilded Age when excess ruled, and the 1920s, followed as it were by the correction of the Great Depression. Another great correction is in order. It needs to take place in all aspects of American life, from the externalities of government and the use of power to the very innards of the American soul. Part of this process is calling out history, placing proper perspective on historical facts rather than political fictions.
One of the biggest fictions of all is this attempt by ultra-conservative partisans to paint the Reagan administration and Reagan years as a time of great achievement and template for society. Let us examine the actualities and their consequences as we debunk the Reagan mythology that brought us to this moment of economic ruin and foreign adventurism. Reagan and the cult of personality Reagan had the force of personality perfect, as it turned out, for the newly emerging age of mass communication where picture trumped platform. Even he joked often about his B-movie career that morphed into leadership of the actor's union and a huge popularity bump as television host. Reagan's purely political career took off as he prominently supported Richard Nixon in 1960, then very actively campaigned on behalf of Barry Goldwater's 1964 reactionary push-back to equal rights at home and morality in foreign affairs. Those speeches and campaigning on Goldwater's behalf catapulted Reagan to national political prominence. Running against an unpopular California governor, riding the backlash against the University of California Berkeley free speech movement, as well as minorities and so-called permissive liberals, Reagan won a million vote landslide in 1966. Fast-forwarding past LBJ and Vietnam, Nixon and Watergate, the Reagan public relations machine emerged as the conservative alternative to progressive thought in the 1970s. But that, in itself, was not enough to get past public perception of him as an actor turned political wannabe with credibility issues. Reagan very narrowly failed to dislodge Gerald Ford as Republican standard-bearer in 1976, not surprising since Ford had the power of the presidency at his back. But that campaign, followed by the ambiguity and lack of focus of the Carter presidency put Reagan in the catbird's seat for a 1980 presidential run. Two events in 1979 set the stage for Reagan's ascension to the presidency. Neither had anything to do with his so-called philosophy, personal charisma or political competence. The Arab oil crisis resulting in massive gasoline shortages, lines and rationing coupled with the storming of the U.S. Embassy in Teheran completely derailed an already shaky Carter administration. While Reagan can't be implicated in the energy crisis, we now know there was an arms-for-hostages quid pro quo allowing that all-consuming issue to fester during the 1980 presidential campaign, virtually ensuring Reagan's election. He got 51 percent of the vote. The hostages, in fact, were released mere minutes after he took the oath of office, Jan. 20, 1981. Lessons of the 1980s
The 1980 election had nothing to do with conservative philosophy or the desire of Americans to dismantle the FDR-JFK-LBJ legacy of a government helping people, working with people to improve their lot. But the American people got the Reagan acolytes and their cynically selective use of government to suit their own purposes, mainly greed and the permanent retention of political power. The 1980s are widely recognized as an era of excess, Wall Street run amuck, so famously encapsulated in Oliver Stone's Gordon Gecko "greed is good" mantra. In most matters political, the Reaganites talked about government being the problem with private enterprise the solution. Again in fact, that governmental disdain only went so far. It went as far as the poor and disenfranchised as the Reagan administration curtailed programs costing pennies to aid the unfortunate and downtrodden, even as it spent massive dollars on defense including harebrained missile systems that never worked, but cost billions. For all their talk about ending government interference in people's lives, the Reaganites sought to use government to enforce their concepts of morality, perhaps best personified by their simplistic, even racist Just Say No drug campaigns targeting minorities. The Reagan years can be appreciated all the better in retrospect. The Cold War provided an external threat distracting people from internal problems, a sort of sleight-of-political-hand job. Reagan's powerful personality and simplistic world view allowed his minions to overcome potential economic disconnects with working class and middle-class White voters who proved the difference-makers in keeping him in office. Demographics, while changing, continued to favor older, more conservative candidates. The Democratic Party was in disarray. A 1984 election landslide gave the Reagan "Revolution", rather a counter-revolution, the numbers in Washington to do as they would. They carried on well enough even to elect George Bush, our first, who was, people forget, a fairly unpopular figure at the time. But the Reagan apparatus, dedicated to preserving influence, rode the Reagan name into a figurative third term.
We can appreciate now the entire sequence of Reagan-to-Bush I had nothing to do with the proposition government was evil and should get out of people's lives, as hypocritical as was that position. All today agree many people voted for the public, and popular, image of Reaganism, even when it ran counter to their own economic self-interest. Masters of public relations, in effect turning around the Nixon mistakes with a vision of self-aggrandizement, the Reagan PR machine churned out messages fine-tuned to their target audience, whether, or not, the message had a basis in actuality. Coincidental with all this, the Soviet Union collapsed. This was a result of decades of internal pressure, and a geopolitical grasp loosened by Pope John Paul II and the Solidarity Movement in Poland that swiftly altered the political equation throughout Eastern Europe. The removal of the imbalance of economic design propping up Sovietism through its Eastern European colonies caused its demise, not Reagan policies. Perhaps the greatest myth of all about this time period is that the "Bring down this wall" speech given by Reagan at the Berlin Wall on June 12, 1987 somehow was responsible for the wall coming down. Indeed, the Reagan Presidential Library video promoting the recently instituted privately-funded Reagan Centennial Commission to plan events celebrating the birth of the 40th president, which happened Feb. 6, 1911, showed Reagan's famous speech excerpt followed immediately by video of the Berlin Wall being taken down. The wall came down more than two years after the speech and the speech had nothing to do with it. In fact, Reagan never saw the wall fall during his presidency. As every historian acknowledges, and people at the time knew, the wall came down by accident. Bush I famously is documented at the Oval Office, acknowledging later in interviews, being completely surprised by the event, meeting with advisors who didn't know how to respond. They did nothing at the time, fearing any action would damage relations with the Soviet Union, which were improving rapidly due to Gorbachev's policy of Glasnost, or openness. This is what actually happened: The East German government, due to pressures surrounding the collapse of Soviet-organized Eastern Block governments, as well as internal pressures, decided to allow a trickle of refugees to go to the West. Many refugees very publicly were escaping through Austria at newly opened Hungarian borders as well as, a bit later, newly opened Czechoslovakian border crossings, and through other means. This created a tremendous public perception problem for the iron-fist government. Meanwhile, East German public protests fueled by students, emboldened by the example of Chinese students at Tienanmen Square a few months earlier, were gaining traction. Statements by military officials they would shoot protestors in the streets a'la the Chinese military response, created widespread consternation on the part of citizens as well as many government leaders. East German leaders decided to create an orderly process whereby a few refugees could pass through the Brandenberg Gate to West Berlin. However, a wild accident of history took place at the news conference announcing the policy. The East German official announcing the policy -- actually, a lower-level press functionary -- took questions from journalists. One journalist asked if this new policy meant East Germans were free to go to the West. Without thinking, the official simply said yes, the wall is open, not repeating the information about the orderly, government-controlled exit plan. East Germans flocked to the Berlin Wall in incredible numbers as word immediately got out about this amazing statement. Within days, not only did the massive number of people overwhelm border guards, but most guards joined the movement. The East German goverment effectively had collapsed and the people tore down the wall around Nov. 9, 1989, more than two years after the Reagan speech. Not one person on the ground at that time cited Reagan's speech as a factor in any way.
However, due to the historical accident of Reagan happening to be president around that time, and the landmark removal of the Berlin Wall, the Reagan-Bush PR machine claimed they had won the Cold War. This extreme fallacy continues to be a pillar in the Reagan and GOP mythology, although most historians know better. Bush I couldn't overcome his own lack of popularity and lack of achievement in 1992. Bill Clinton brilliantly coupled more traditional Democratic Party advantages in what we now call blue states with a favorite son pull in Southern red states into a powerful win. While we may continue to argue about Clinton as liberal v. conservative in values, we can not dispute a more natural return to government as a tool to aid people rather than enemy during his terms in office. Clinton's downfall in effectiveness had nothing to do with this philosophy. It had everything to do with issues of morality and Republican Party partisanship, cynically using personal issues to regain their stranglehold on power in order to generate personal or collegial gain. Which brings us to George W. Bush III. In an America deeply divided by personal politics, not philosophy, Bush lost the popular vote, but won the presidency through the 18th Century device of an overriding electoral college, and a one vote Supreme Court decision. Bush, the lately, didn't win in the least on a mandate of dismantling government to its very core. But that's who, and what, we got along with a Republican majority in Congress, whose disastrous legacy we now are in the process of possibly unraveling, although yet another arcane rule of law allowing 40-vote filibusters in the U.S. Senate has stalled progress. And now, the future The Bush years of government neglect have ended. This horrific group encouraged the seeds of economic greed and ruin, massively debilitating federal debt, public and foreign policy drift, disgrace and tortuous political and personal immorality; not to mention legacy of torture as policy, Katrina, lying the nation into war, spying without authorization on its own citizens, disregard for the rule of law and the U.S. Constitution and, well, a seemingly endless list of malfeasance, misfeasance and whatever other nonfeasance we now know or will discover in time. The Reagan "government is the problem" mantra was never the sentiment of the American people. Government is an important, overwhelming force that can be a wave lifting up the people when applied with honesty, intelligence and good purpose. Government is not the problem. It is the grand hope. Just ask our Founding Fathers who gave us a Constitution creating a more perfect union on Sept. 17, 1787. Just ask Joe Workingman and Jane Workingwoman who desperately need its help today. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Assembly Republican Leader Martin Garrick Prepared Remarks -- Ronald Reagan Centennial Commission Bill Signing Ceremony Wednesday, July 28, 2010: Thank you Governor. Mrs. Reagan. It’s almost surreal for me to be standing here next to you to honor one of my heroes. It is truly an honor for me to share the stage with you. Thank you to everyone at the Ronald Reagan Presidential Foundation and Library for all that you do. To all my friends and fellow Reaganites in the audience - we need to get together more often! I spoke at a graduation ceremony last month for the Army & Navy Academy in my district. As I prepared to address a group of cadets and their families, I thought about the first time I heard Ronald Reagan speak in person. It was at the Marlboro High School graduation in Los Angeles in 1974, the last year he was Governor. In this speech, the Great Communicator spoke of the price of freedom in America. He spoke of a golden hope for mankind. And he spoke of American exceptionalism in the face of socialism and communism. He reminded the graduating students that his generation had gone from a horse and buggy to the moon! He also noted that he, then at the age of 63, had already lived 10 years longer than his life expectancy at birth. This – he joked – was: “a source of aggravation in certain circles…” Governor Reagan’s speech left quite a mark on me as a young man, then only 21 years old, and on the rest of the audience. Little did we know at the time just how much this great leader would achieve for our state and our nation in his lifetime. Six years after this speech, I was fortunate enough to join forces with some of the faces that I see in the crowd today. It was one of the greatest honors of my life to work on the President’s 1980 campaign, on his White House transition team, and in his Administration. Today I am deeply honored to be able to play a role in honoring Ronald Reagan’s legacy as a Californian and an American. As you know, President Reagan was California’s first -- “Movie Star Governor.” He starred in 53 films during his career. Now how many have you starred in Governor . . . 30? I think you have some catching up to do…. But he did more than just conquer Hollywood. He is the first, and only, person to serve as Governor of California and President of the United States. He handed over the Horseshoe to Jerry Brown … and took over the Oval Office from Jimmy Carter. Even though his political opponents set a very low bar… he far exceeded any and all expectations. President Reagan inherited a country stuck in stagnation, and unleashed the greatest peacetime economic expansion in American history. He dared to dream not only of a peaceful end to the Cold War, but also the destruction of the Evil Empire. And he achieved both. Within a year of leaving office, the Berlin Wall came down . . . and Soviet Communism crumbled. President Reagan restored pride and power to our military. He once again made our nation a beacon of hope, freedom and opportunity for all of the world. February 6, 2011, will mark the 100th Anniversary of Ronald Reagan’s birth. Assembly Bill 1911, with the Governor’s signature, creates California’s Ronald Reagan Centennial Commission. It will celebrate and honor one of the most influential Californians and Americans in history. In keeping with President Reagan’s distrust of big government, we made sure that this bill won’t use taxpayer dollars and won’t grow the bureaucracy! Just as Ronald Reagan taught the next generation about the greatness of America, I look forward to helping to teach future generations about Ronald Reagan’s character, optimism, ideals, and enduring legacy. This commission – and the celebration of his 100th birthday – will help us ensure President’s Reagan’s proper role in history. Thank you very much. Twenty years ago John Elway sent me to the Pro Bowl armed with many Sony Watchman TV's...
John Elway sent me to the Pro Bowl. Guess who is my favorite all-time NFL player. The Pro Bowl generally is a laid-back affair, past and future, at Aloha Stadium. It features special rules such as no blitzing, no zone defenses, no trick offensive formations. The games are low-key for a while, that is until the second half when the all-star competitive juices -- not, those kind, lighten up -- kick in and some rules are better honored in their breach than their observance. But the Pro Bowl is an afterthought as yet, the week before the Super Bowl this year, and in past years the week following the Super Bowl when most everybody has gone football home. Not for me. The Pro Bowl is mine, baby, all mine, thanks to Elway.
ESPN divided the field into sections by yard markers and hash-marks. Plays were assigned point totals. A running play to the right side was one point. A 10-yard pass to the left side was three points. A completed pass of more than 25 yards between the hash marks of the middle of the field had the highest point total. It was five freakin' points. Under the very fine print section of the rules, ESPN deigned to disclose a toll-free number would be provided if requested. I believe there was some kind of law requiring this. I requested, baby, and I got to work. I studied the offenses of the teams that would appear in the four contest games.
So it went and so I went. I missed one the four games for some reason. Guess I had a life beyond football then, can't remember. But basically, I won every quarter of the three games -- two by Elway -- I played. It all came down to that toll-free number and Elway's brain. People didn't much hanker to the $5.95 per call price tag. As an Elway expert, I rode his arm all the way to paradise. I ended up with eight Sony mini-TV's, a sports video collection, and an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii, and cash, for the Pro Bowl.
The trip was awesome, of course. I hung out with Japanese girl tourists who gave me strange tasting candy and a...well, PG-rated here. I sat behind the Miami Dolphins offensive line in the stands, amazing them with my play calling expertise as I shouted out each play before it happened.
Ah, good times. ESPN discontinued the contest after that. But Elway earned a fan for life. Daytripping through the Del Dios Gorge and Santa Fe Valley trails with Dan W.
You'll notice a whole bunch of eucalyptus trees, many burned by the 2007 Witch Creek Fire. They are descendants of the millions of eucalyptuses planted in the early 1900s by the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railway, which had bought most of the Rancho San Dieguito land grant in 1906 from Juan Osuna. OK, we all know the wood was no good for railroad ties. But Rancho Santa Fe-- location, location, location -- was just right and local homeowners formed the Rancho Santa Fe Association in 1928.
You'll go up and down the trail, checking out the electric pumps and generators that regulate the flow of water between Lake Hodges below and the Olivenhain Reservoir, unseen on the high ridge above. Fast-forward two miles to ye olde dam, heading through the gorge bottom on an unpaved service road, doubling as the trail route. The remnants of a flume that formerly connected Lake Hodges to a smaller storage reservoir, San Dieguito Reservoir, some four miles away, cam be spotted along the ridge-line.
Del Dios Highway traffic noise magically disappears as you enter “one of the most important archaeological sites in the United States (that) has been placed on the National Register of Historic Places,” according to the San Diego Archaeological Center, which opened in 2002 in the San Pasqual Valley near the San Diego Wild Animal Park. Malcolm Rogers, an Escondido citrus grower, also an avid amateur archaeologist, started exploring this area in 1919. When a 1927 flood exposed more artifacts in the river valley on a farm owned by C.W. Harris, Rogers and others began an additional 10-year excavation project. Their studies and others over the past 70 years have proved that people lived in this area for more 9,000 years, archeologists say. Check out the steeply rising gorge wall along the scattered willows, oaks, and granite outcrops down along the riverbed. Restoration efforts should improve the habitat alongside the river.
That will encourage the growth of native vegetation and provide better foraging and nesting for birds where at least 29 species of natives will likely thrive again, including Western sycamore, according to the conservancy says. This habitat improvement will also likely benefit two endangered bird species: the least Bell’s vireo and the Southwest willow flycatcher.
You're a couple of miles down the trails now to The Crosby and the spot where the Del Dios Gorge Trail becomes the Santa Fe Valley Trail.
The Santa Fe Valley Trail passes under that bridge and continues right next to the golf course in several places. At its western end, the trail switchbacks up a few hundred feet. At the viewpoint, you can see miles of the river valley, bordered by that golf course and equestrian and agricultural estates. You can download a map of the Santa Fe Valley Trail from San Dieguito River Park, sdrp.org/trails.htm. The trail is about two miles one-way; retrace your steps for a four-mile round-trip hike, allowing at least two hours. Help yourselves, help the community, advertise at Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News http://ahharsfnews.com!!! (Rancho Santa Fe has some of the best dumpsters for diving in the world, as illustrated by the moveable feast outside Harvest Ranch Market at Rancho Santa Fe Village. Who else is going to show you that? Advertise, sponsor us so we may provide even better coverage of the area. Don't throw away your opportunity!)
Dear Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News Friends and Businesses, I don't know how many hits and visitors your business or personal sites, as well as print or glossy ads get daily, but Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News at http//ahharsfnews.com has been averaging more than 3,000 to 5,000 daily page views, or hits, since last Thanksgiving, including a record 7,870 hits, 5,100 visitors on Jan. 6. If you want to have more people come to your site, or contact you otherwise, your best bet in Rancho Santa Fe and San Diego County media today is a very affordable sponsorship ad with our site. We have much lower overhead than the others, yet generate much more customer traffic. Ah-Ha RSF News traffic is more than 30 times greater than the RSF Review, 60 times greater than Coast News in Rancho Santa Fe. What's more, Patch AOL has started community web sites similar in concept, although not in execution, in surrounding areas. Our traffic is 5 to 7 times greater than any of their 12 San Diego County sites, and their sites are in communities -- Encinitas, Carlsbad, etc. -- 15 to 20 times larger than RSF. Our site represents the best bang per buck you can get. You get the prime market at a fraction of what you're paying for these glossy magazine and newspaper ads and realtor web sites. The fact is -- as you can plainly see -- this site connects with people. It gives you a credibility and distinction by being associated with the web native journalism project. You get positive -- unique -- exposure and help us create one of the top community journalism sites in the nation. I refined the concept through my work this spring as a fellow at the Knight Digital Media Center at the University of Southern California Annenberg School for Communication and Journalism. It offers you the opportunity to distinguish yourself from the other realtors and ride the future wave of journalism today. Email me! Dan Weisman, founder/editor 92067freepress@gmail.com (Photo: Lake Hodges park during recent rain event. )
(Photo: Chino Farm, Rancho Santa Fe's renowned vegetable and fruit icon)
State of the Rancho Santa Fe Nation: Updating Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News
1. The Santa Fe Irrigation District's water rate increase has prompted serious questions in the community. What's more, executive director Michael Bardin recently was revealed to receive at least $272,000 annual salary --- $100,000 more than U.S. senators and congressmen earn annually. We're looking into whether the justifications for the rate increase were legitimate and why Bardin gets such a large salary. 2. The Rancho Santa Fe Foundation administers numerous multimillion dollar requests intended to benefit the community. However, long-time executive director Christie Wilson apparently looks at these funds as her own private domain -- a sort of personal slush fund -- to distribute to friends rather than as a contribution to the health, and positive direction, of the community. We are investigating Wilson's credentials as well as why, and how, she has maintained her position despite questions about her competency. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On other fronts, the beta test system used here is scheduled to cease operating around February. Neighborlogs has broken up as a company with its founder leaving and future operations keyed to maintaining Seattle blog ad networks. We are deciding on a new CMS for export. Saturday, Dec. 18 was a great day for us with a record-busting 4,000 page views, 2,200 unique visitors shattering our old marks. We're now getting 3,000 daily views with visitors looking at an average of around 1.7 stories a session. [Hey, you guys looking at .7 stories, step it up some :).] Considering Rancho Santa Fe has 4,500 residents, we are one of the most successful community news sites in the nation with a per capita resident penetration second to none. We intend to monetize the site in the new year, so we may continue to provide the state-of-the-art Web native journalism that will be prevalent during the next decade in the nation. And, oh, by the way, since the Rancho Santa Fe Review last month moved its offices to Carmel Valley and the Coast News is based at Encinitas, we are now the only Rancho Santa Fe-based media source. As you have seen, we are by far the best. Our site traffic is 25 times greater than the RSF Review, and 50 times greater than the Coast News' Rancho Santa Fe site. As always, thanks for your interest and support. It's a pleasure and a privilege to provide the real deal in community journalism. -- Dan Weisman, founder/editor Mark Fabiani, foreign agent...
San Diego still isn’t quite sure what to make of the former Clinton White House lawyer and Gore’s deputy camapaign manager in 2000. He’s a creature that is rarely sighted in these parts: a real flesh-and-blood D.C. operator. Fabiani is perhaps best known in San Diego as special counsel to the NFL’s San Diego Chargers. He’s also serving as media point person for seven-time Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong, the subject of a federal grand jury investigation into the cyclist’s alleged use of performance-enhancing drugs. Also on the Fabiani client list is the estranged wife of Dodgers owner Frank McCourt, Goldman Sachs the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers in the midst of a costly Writers Guild strike.
According to this June 2009 filing with the US Justice Department, Fabiani and his business partner, Christopher Lehane, another Clinton White House veteran, are being paid $8,333 a month to represent the interests of Qasimi on a “part-time” basis. Fabiani is part of Qasimi’s effort to return to power in Ras Al Khaimah, part of the United Arab Emirates. The 67-year-old sheikh was deposed in 2003 after 45 years as part of the emirate’s leadership, claims he is rightful heir to the throne.
Fabiani and Lehane’s work for Qasimi includes communicating with U.S. government officials, U.S. business leaders, providing logistical and operational support for Qasimi’s U.S. visits and developing new relationships with think tanks and and U.S. non-profit organizations. Both men are working for Qasimi as subcontractors to California Strategies LLC. Documents obtained by Der Spiegel show that Qasimi paid California Strategies at least $3.7 million. I’m not saying there’s anything nefarious about this. There are plenty of lawyers doing this kind of work back in DC. In San Diego, Fabiani is the big fish in the much smaller pond. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Seth Hettena is a freelance writer and author based in San Diego, California. He writes frequently about law and finance. A former reporter and correspondent for The Associated Press, Hettena has exposed the torture death of an Iraqi prisoner in CIA custody. He has also discovered photos posted on the Internet of Navy SEALs treating prisoners harshly and revealed that a secret Navy office contracted planes that were used in the CIA’s rendition program. Hettena grew up in New York, attended The Fieldston School and spent his summers in high school working on oil tankers and coal carriers running to Panama, Alaska and the Netherlands. He is a graduate of The Johns Hopkins University and holds a Master’s Degree in journalism from Columbia University in 1994. Before joining the AP in 1997, he worked for two Iowa newspapers. He and his wife have two sons and live in San Diego. Visit Seth's exclusive blog at http://www.sethhettena.com/
– Grateful Dead
Stan Smith, "Big" Kenny Morris, John Stewart, Steve Werner and Steve "the plumbing guy", shirtless and fearless, ran from house to house below, shutting off propane connections and dodging bullets set off inside structures, saving their neighbors' homes. Helicopters from San Diego Fire, Cal Fire and the San Diego Sheriff's Department circled with reckless abandon, swiftly dipping into Lake Hodges or Olivenhain Reservoir, dropping bucket load after load of water on the Witch Creek fire gone mad. Less than a football field length's above, along a highway drenched with ash and flames, punctuated by water droplets from the choppers, engine companies from Rancho Santa Fe, Carlsbad and Oceanside, supported by cal Fire, Camp Pendleton, Salinas and sheriff's units battled as if there were no tomorrow.
Joking aside, I've covered massive, fog-driven highway chain collisions, including one of the largest in state history at Elk Grove. I was just outside Santana High School when Charles Andrew Williams went berserk and shot up his classmates. Walked through downtown San Salvador when the war zone there resembled the movie, "Escape from New York." At Conway, Ark., I survived a tornado that lifted the roof off my friend's garage as we huddled under the kitchen table for dear life.
Along a deserted Paseo Delicias on the way home, two cars drifted by and stopped. Todd Milbourn drove one. Randy Perch drove the other. As it turned out, Milbourn was a reported and Perch a photographer for the Sacramento Bee, my old newspaper. We exchanged notes and moved on down the line.
Aside from emergency personnel. The media was allowed full access though the now-road blocked area from Del Mar to Escondido. This was not due to the largess of public officials. It's state law. We were therefore the privileged few who could move between the embers. I've often said Del Dios Highway would be one of the most beautiful drives in the world if it weren't for the traffic. That was not a problem these smoky days. Mine was the only vehicle on the road, generally. What's more, my house had water and electricity that first Monday day and night of the Witch Creek Fire. I was concerned, but not overly so. I watched television pictures of the fire just south of Crosby Estate. Forecasters said the wind would blow it away from my home. But I also noted with great interest the thick smoke and wooden structures all around me. I slept cautiously that night, fully clothed, shoes on my feet, ready to dash for safety at any moment. The next morning, however, the winds shifted my way. Still clueless, somehow artist Larissa Gorikh rang me up at home. Turned out she had dreamt of me the night before, with flames flying across the tires of my SUV.
Being crazy, dumb and a journalist to boot, I jumped in my vehicle and raced toward the fire, going into the park by the lake and spying the apocalypse now. The fire was all consuming. Reversing gears quite frantically, I ran away faster than Arthur in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail," up the hill. There I found North County's firefighting last stand army on the hill fanning out to battle the fires that raged everywhere. They battled hard. They battled smart. Crews set backfires and heaped water up the burring hills. After about an hour of this, during what seemed like a break in the fire, Randy, the Bee photographer, said this was a good time to check the status of my humble abode. We drove down the highway under what passed for blue sky. Which passed just as fast, for then we were shrouded by darkness at noon, embers and fire whipping just over our heads seemingly without a care on its way to Olivenhain Dam.
Rancho Santa Fe, Oceanside and Carlsbad units dove into the fight now. But it was too late for about two dozen houses. They managed to save the houses just north along Olive Street. Better leave, Randy said, and we got out fast, better alive than dead. The firefight lasted through around 2:30 p.m. It ended at Del Dios Highlands County Preserve, a habitat and recreational refuge opened with great fanfare just the week before, following 10 years of land acquisition and planning. This was our Gettysburg. And the last line of defense had held. Crews mopped up all over Del Dios that night. Shawn Styles of KFMB-TV darted inside a nearby house at Juniper and Second streets – now torched to the ground – and rescued jazz singer Ruby Presnell's cherished personal photographs. He gave them to me for safekeeping. Ruby has them now, My neighbors all were dearly departed. Emergency crews, firefighters, media and me were the only ones in town. Flames continued burring along the ground throughout the community that night. The next day engine companies from the San Francisco Fire Department rolled into town. Now I know how they must have felt in Paris during the Liberation. A former resident of The City, I shouted out my old home base, Capp Street, Capp Street to them and they gave me the thumbs-up. I drove around the area for days, usually the only civilian vehicle on the road. I went through 40 checkpoints. Sheriff's deputies manned them sometimes. They went unattended during the height of the fire. Later, National Guard units from Ontario – some back from Iraq – moved in with heavy weapons chambered. Later, I thought it wise to check on friends from the Free Press at Valley Center. Not a great move, the fire danger had moved from here to there. Heading that way, I drove through the Fallbrook, Rice, Palomar Mountain and Valley Center fires. Palomar Mountain, in particular, with flames spiting into the sky, resembled those pictures of the sun with its solar flares. Returning to el Dios, I saw how every house below mine had burned to the ground. Apparently, my landlord's disdain for landscaping, as well as a fortuitous shifting of wind, had saved my humble home. Just as my old New Orleans house had managed to survive Katrina's wrath intact, so, too, had my Del Dios home persevered. Color me crazy. Color me dumb. But color me alive. And grateful for help from above and the firefighters below who turned back the Witch Creek Fire at Del Dios and the highway that bears its name. Ah-Ha Rancho Santa Fe News, http://ahharsfnews is a state-of-the-art online journalism source for Rancho Santa Fe, Calif. As such, the site has lots of fun, user-friendly, interactive and community resources, all free and simple to use, yet highly effective. This video with founder/editor Dan Weisman walks you through some of the free features, and new, easy-to-use tools available on the site.
These are some of the features we explore: Free Classifieds: Don't get lost on Craig's List. Post free classifieds to sell items, trade information, whatever you want. Go to the "post" tab, drop down the menu and post a free classified. Free business reviews: Post reviews about favorite businesses, or even your own. Tell your friends and neighbors about great places to visit, shop and enjoy. Again, the post drop-down menu takes you there and it only requires a few minutes, at most, to post and share. Post stories, photos, videos: Sign up as a user/member in the top right-corner below the banner. It takes maybe 15 seconds and requires a valid e-mail address, which will not be used for spam or any reason, simply as a way to verify you're a real person. Then, go to drop-down post menu and have fun. Forums: Start discussion and forum threads, discussing anything you want with friends and neighbors about the community. Suggest places to go, activities to do, even friendly gossip. Links: Section has aggregated feeds of all sorts of information, stories and photos about Rancho Santa Fe and the world. Map: An interactive map showing where all the stories come from giving numerous ways to access stories and information. Categories: All stories go on to category pages. These are listed on the right margin with blue links. Categories also are highlighted with blue links at the bottom of stories. Home Page: Similar to a front page in a newspaper, or top of the show news story. Highlighted stories go there, dropping down in chronological order, then continuing on the following pages. Story Page: Next to the Home Page, all stories go on this page with fuller displays, then scroll down in chronological order, continuing on to additional story pages. Thirty years ago this November marks the beginning of the end of my Bill Clinton experience. It ended badly. This is what happened. Arkansas was knee-deep in a bitter newspaper war. Back then, the Democrat was the new kid on the block, battling the entrenched Arkansas Gazette. The owners of the Gazette seemed to believe that if they ignored the Democrat, it eventually would blow away with the wind. However, the Gazette didn't count on John Robert Starr, the Democrat's feisty editor. Starr hated the Gazette. He dogged them with free classified ads and a confrontational, no-holds-barred editorial policy that would make people blanch in today's homogenized news-gathering print environment. Or just maybe, Starr was a media visionary, way ahead of his time, given today's sensational blogging and outrageous celebrity news culture. Starr succeeded famously. He drove the highfalutin' Gazette out of business. The Arkansas Democrat-Gazette rules the Little Rock roost today from the old Democrat building on Capitol Mall. As a young reporter in Texas, I came up for an interview at the Gazette. I never had heard of the Democrat. But seeing a second paper in town, and being there already, I figured, what the heck. So, before my interview I went over to the Democrat's funky offices. Three hours later I was a staff member of the Democrat. I never even made it to the Gazette's office half a dozen blocks down the street. Starr buried me on the cute beat. I wrote stories about toddler beauty queens. I covered the secretarial Olympics. In this capacity, I ran across Clinton from time to time. He was a friendly guy and we talked about football. I was a Rice University graduate and he followed the Arkansas Razorbacks. The two teams butted heads in the old Southwest Conference. Sometimes, we talked about television. He didn't like "Bosom Buddies," starring a young Tom Hanks as a comedic cross-dresser. I did. My boss hated Clinton. Despised him. In fact, Starr gave Clinton the nickname "Slick Willie." And the feeling was mutual. Considered liberal for Arkansas, Clinton didn't care for Starr, a big bear of a guy who was rock-ribbed conservative. Clinton also believed, correctly, that Starr was out to get him. Not the last time a man named Starr would do that. As fate would have it, Cuban refugees began leaving the island by the boatload around that time. Fidel Castro got the notion to send along all the sleazy guys from his prisons to make the political refugees look bad. It was known as the Mariel boatlift and about 125,000 Cubans hit the seas between April 1 and Sept. 15, 1980. The nastiest Cubans of the bunch got sent to Fort Chaffee in western Arkansas, a former military barracks. I was rooting around Fort Smith near there for a feature at the time, so Starr sent me over to get a look at the Cubans. Clinton showed up that day, too. I was the only Little Rock reporter on the scene, the only reporter he recognized. Seeing me, he walked about 50 yards across a grassy airfield to shoot the breeze. A small army of television crews followed him. The scene was number one with a bullet on television news that night. Starr decided Clinton liked me. Since the governor wouldn't talk to the real Democrat reporters, Starr had a brainstorm: I would cover Clinton as he ran for re-election against Frank White, a Republican unknown. All I can figure is Starr believed my coverage wouldn't be too good and Clinton would look bad. So there I was. I shadowed Clinton across the great state of Arkansas that summer and fall. I was there when Clinton took the Pepsi challenge against Coke and declared: "I can't decide. They both taste good." I saw Clinton hanging around those state police guards who later alleged they were procuring women for him. From my perspective, he looked pretty chummy with the guards --- and I never saw Hillary, not once. It was a wild ride. He spoke and I wrote. The election turned ugly. Believe it or not, Clinton was defeated on a single, amazing issue. He had persuaded the Arkansas Legislature to raise the annual vehicle registration tax by something like $5. White harped on that to no end and Clinton lost an election for the only time in his career. Election night 1980 was the last time I spoke with Clinton. I was the only reporter at his office. He yelled at aides and relatives. He broke down crying. I tried to get his reaction to the defeat as a burly state trooper shoved me out of the room and slammed the door in my face. Clinton licked his wounds, retooled and got back on the career fast track -- fast. Too late for me, though. Forevermore, Clinton associated me with that horrible chapter in his otherwise glorious life. The Clinton presidency is a faraway memory now, so I want to take a moment to say to our former president: It was nothing personal back then when you lost the election. Let's not hold any grudges. Lunch at The Ranch? You got the time. I'm just a poor ole' new media entrepreneur these day. Maybe, you'll buy? |
























































































