Tin Fork
So here I was, walking the Gaslamp one night, minding my business, when this dude thrusts a flyer in my hand. “Burger, fries, and draft beer, $5,” it says. Wow. And that’s just the first …
La Colonia? Ah, yes. The story comes back as I sit up to the old tiled bar. “1697–1997,” says a weaving hung on the wall. “Celebrates the 300th anniversary of the Spanish conquest of Baja …
Huh? Last time I came through these doors this was a Chinese place, the Silver Sea. Now it’s Hawaiian. Very Hawaiian. Bright yellow and sea-green walls, canoe paddles, three toothy, life-size tikis, and that bright …
When Judith Moore suggested that because my buddy Hank and I were eating mostly cheapo street food anyway, why not write about it, I thought, “Yes, but how many ways can you describe a burger? …
“This is on me,” says Carla. “I’ve been saving. True! Ever since you didn’t take me out on my birthday. You forgot, remember?” Sigh. Yes, I remember. I forgot. “Where?” I say. “And how much?” …
Bay Park. Whoever knew where that was? I’ve whisked past it a zillion times, driving with Hank up Interstate 5 or on the Coaster or aboard the Amtrak. Never even gave it a blink. I …
Up here near the 94 College exit, a blue 1966 Valiant sits parked between a Frazee’s and a Weight Watchers place. Only one man in this town has a sky-blue ’66 Valiant: my buddy Rod, …
I can’t believe it. Here I am on deepest Revolución, when I spot that black hat, that gray-red beard, that loping walk. It can only be one person. “Willy?” I say. Willy Clauson has stuck …
Clunk! Man. Umberto Falcone’s kinda surprised I’ve tossed the bocce ball anywhere close to the jack. Call it beginner’s luck. Luck: Guess that’s how this whole sea-urchin thing started too. Though now that I think …
“Slow down, you move too fast. You’ve got to make the morning last...” Can’t help humming that Simon and Garfunkel ditty. Life’s pouring through my veins again. How not? It’s one of those crisp, sunny …
Can’t believe it. Here I am in North Park, yapping away with Albert Einstein’s cousin! Evelyn, who runs this eatery with her husband Jeff, casually drops it that her grandpa and Albert were first cousins. …
“Be nice or go away,” says the sign above the bar. Hmm...none too welcoming. But, hey, I’ll be nice, ’cause what a bar, and what a backboard! Huge, with baroque carving, big mirrors. Victorian, I …
History’s in the air. Talk about hidden jewels. Turns out that here in National City they have the only original transcontinental railroad terminus in the United States still standing. Since 1882, the depot has been …
I still can’t believe it. My buddy Frankie. He’s gone. Checked out. Died. Had half his life to live, still. And my hands aren’t clean. All those Delicado Ovalado cigarettes I always got for him …
“La Dolce Vita,” reads the sign above the counter where I’m sitting. Well, my vita’s in no way dolce right now. Whose is? But this place I had to try. Even though I knew I …
“Camel meat,” sighs Mukhtar. “That’s what I miss most. It’s the meat treat in Somalia. Here, I think it’s not even legal.” He grabs a piece of banana. Of course, if there’s one thing apart …