Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s — probably not meant to serve as a rich cultural study of 20th-century Americana
Fried clams
Arlene (Maelyn Gándola) yearns for 90 percent unimaginable feminine liberty, 10 percent fried clam dinners, while Mitchell (Adam Daniel) and Paul (Jake Rosko) ineffectually fight for her affections.
More than once during Scripps Ranch Theatre’s production of Murder at the Howard Johnson’s, ditzy would-be femme fatale, Arlene (Maelyn Gándola), refers to HoJo’s fried clam strip dinner with lustful glee. This is perhaps the sole aspect of the play inextricably pegged to 1979: the year the play was written, and the year designated for the production. Then, there were over a thousand Howard Johnson’s restaurants in the U.S.
Murder at the Howard Johnson's
- Scripps Ranch Theatre, 9783 Avenue of Nations, Scripps Ranch
- 18+ / $15 - $31
The Howard Johnson’s hotel chain still exists, but, today, there are exactly two Howard Johnson’s restaurants in the entire United States.
Exactly two, and if eminently credible Yankee Magazine is to be believed, they are not doing brilliantly. Of the 320 million people in this country, a few thousand might eat HoJo fried clams this year, and that’s being generous.
Because of the internet, we know there’s still a place in the hearts and minds of the American people for the chewy strips of deep-fried sea clam yearned for by Arlene. For some people, especially those in the Midwest living far from the sea, Howard Johnson’s clam strips were the only conceivable form of edible clam. They would be horrified by the geoducks in the Pacific Northwest and the steamed soft shell clams of New England. To put it bluntly, Howard Johnson’s defined fried clams for a significant number of American diners.
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s was probably never meant to serve as a rich cultural study of 20th-century Americana. Director Phil Johnson calls it “a funny, sexy piece of fluff,” which has as much pithy accuracy as anything. Yet ghosts haunt the script, and what chills the bones is how long dead they aren’t. This play takes place just under 40 years ago, but Howard Johnson’s fried clam dinners (all you can eat on Fridays!) are ancient history with respect to their near extinction, and the vanishingly small chance that anyone who sees this play will ever eat one.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s — probably not meant to serve as a rich cultural study of 20th-century Americana
Fried clams
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s — probably not meant to serve as a rich cultural study of 20th-century Americana
Fried clams
Arlene (Maelyn Gándola) yearns for 90 percent unimaginable feminine liberty, 10 percent fried clam dinners, while Mitchell (Adam Daniel) and Paul (Jake Rosko) ineffectually fight for her affections.
More than once during Scripps Ranch Theatre’s production of Murder at the Howard Johnson’s, ditzy would-be femme fatale, Arlene (Maelyn Gándola), refers to HoJo’s fried clam strip dinner with lustful glee. This is perhaps the sole aspect of the play inextricably pegged to 1979: the year the play was written, and the year designated for the production. Then, there were over a thousand Howard Johnson’s restaurants in the U.S.
Murder at the Howard Johnson's
- Scripps Ranch Theatre, 9783 Avenue of Nations, Scripps Ranch
- 18+ / $15 - $31
The Howard Johnson’s hotel chain still exists, but, today, there are exactly two Howard Johnson’s restaurants in the entire United States.
Exactly two, and if eminently credible Yankee Magazine is to be believed, they are not doing brilliantly. Of the 320 million people in this country, a few thousand might eat HoJo fried clams this year, and that’s being generous.
Because of the internet, we know there’s still a place in the hearts and minds of the American people for the chewy strips of deep-fried sea clam yearned for by Arlene. For some people, especially those in the Midwest living far from the sea, Howard Johnson’s clam strips were the only conceivable form of edible clam. They would be horrified by the geoducks in the Pacific Northwest and the steamed soft shell clams of New England. To put it bluntly, Howard Johnson’s defined fried clams for a significant number of American diners.
Murder at the Howard Johnson’s was probably never meant to serve as a rich cultural study of 20th-century Americana. Director Phil Johnson calls it “a funny, sexy piece of fluff,” which has as much pithy accuracy as anything. Yet ghosts haunt the script, and what chills the bones is how long dead they aren’t. This play takes place just under 40 years ago, but Howard Johnson’s fried clam dinners (all you can eat on Fridays!) are ancient history with respect to their near extinction, and the vanishingly small chance that anyone who sees this play will ever eat one.
Comments