Tin Fork
Wow. Pointed prow of a big ol’ Navy cruiser knifes right past. In the waters between us and the island of Coronado. It kinda fills the sky. Heading under the bridge and home port. The …
Whew. Hot day out here on the La Playa Trail. La Playa Trail? Just the oldest commercial trail in the Western United States. ’Course we know it as Rosecrans Street. I notice this li’l historical …
“Want some? It’s not on the menu yet. We’re just experimenting for winter.”
“When I first met her, I weighed 190 pounds. Now I’m 240,” he says.
‘Whu-where are we?” Yes, I’m kinda nervous. Driving with Ria, Carla’s best buddy. I mean, she’s a good driver and all, but this wagon: Volvo, 200,000 miles before the odometer stopped working, heater won’t turn …
Tuesday, 8 p.m. What’s this buzz outside Felix’s? People, mostly African-American, are milling around the entrance, some dressed to the nines. Inside you can hear music and see what looks like a party going on. …
Oh, man. This is one desolate little stretch of street. Lytton. Loma Portal. Quarter mile of traffic-crammed blight. Maybe it’s the half light. Whatever, I come to a closed-up, windowless, brick-red-painted concrete building with no …
"Come in, sir,” says this voice. It’s a guy looking through a partition. We’re inside an ancient, 100-year-old building right by the ballpark. I just wandered in here looking for food. We’re in this passage …
‘Look, I’m telling you,” says my buddy Daley, “this place is the real deal. Ya gotta have the quinoa burger.” He’s talking about this health chain. I mean, Daley was in the Army. Likes no-nonsense …
"Misery loves company, but holiness loves company more!” I can hear him across Petco Park’s parking lot. He’s standing, speechifying, holding forth. Something about “I was high on crystal meth. I got beat up by …
At last. Have been watching this site for months. I’m riding on the southbound Orange Line as it pulls in to the Park and Market stop. Bunch of school kids haul out and start streaming …
“You come at, say, nine in the morning, I guarantee you won’t get out before two.”
Opera? On Orange Avenue? I was ambling up Coronado’s main street, trying to figure out what to do for the three hours Carla usually takes to get her hair frou-froued up over here — Diane …
"’ll meet you at the Galley,” says Joe into his cell phone. This was during one of the heat waves. He lives way east of El Cajon, so I knew he was pitching for the …
“Everyone has waited ten years for this,” he says. “People said, ‘It’s I.B. It’ll never happen!’”
It pierces the night. A sharp whistle and then a woolly hoot. First thought: train. But how come a train is running through downtown Tijuana late at night? It’s not far. I can see the …