Tin Fork
Hank had been on about this for the longest time. He’s a carpenter and wannabe carver, and he reckons the carving of the horses in the carousel at Seaport Village is the best. In the …
Najem Al Ekabi sits beneath the forest of red, white, and black Iraqi flags. He’s intent on a video on his laptop. “Look, see?” he says. “The one on the left. That’s me. Winning the …
Clock’s ticking toward midnight down here in the deepest Stingaree. I’m heading for Ciro’s, the pizzeria. Why? Because I’ve spent the last couple hours holding up the beautiful old (1885!) Tivoli bar, listening to a …
“I’ve got troubles,” I say. I’m trying to explain why I’m half an hour late. “Trolley security. Hauled me off the damned train. Lemon Grove. Must have been 20 of them swarming on board. The …
‘I.B.” “O.B.” “I.B.!” “O.B.!!” “OK. How’s about Oceanside?” “I tell you, man,” says Hank. “Nothing beats O.B.” We’re ambling west down Newport, arguing, as per usual. Size, of course. Like, who has the longest pier. …
‘See? Skin on the ends. Never, in Fronce.” That’s how Eric says it, of course. “Fronce.” He’s French. He’s pointing to his French fry. It does have patches of skin at either end. Actually, I …
Help me out here. Why is the state of Virginia called a commonwealth? And who was Virginia? And, oh yeah. Do Virginians make crazy omelets like this, with two hamburger patties and a bunch of …
The vapors, the vapors. Oh, man. Me thinketh I shall swoon. Unlike Bill Clinton, I inhale deeply. Rose aromas? Cardamom? Honey? It sits steaming under my schnozz here at the granite-top counter as I wait …
This restaurant is closed. “We’re opportunivores,” says Brian. “No,” says Jake. “We’re freegans. Like vegans, but only when it’s free.” Everybody’s sitting around two tables here inside Roots, chatting to stop the teeth from chattering. …
Most everyone knows about San Diego’s widely publicized St. Patrick’s Day celebrations like Hooleyfest in La Mesa and ShamROCK in the Gaslamp, but for those who are looking for a more intimate St. Paddy’s experience, …
“I bit my arm, I sucked the blood/ And cried ‘A sail! A sail!’ ” I swear, that’s how I feel right now. Like Ye Ancient Mariner. Been cruising Imperial looking for that ceviche place …
Could this be it? Cue music: “This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius…” I mean, if I was looking for a sign, this sign has to be it. “Organic to Go,” right here …
Aha. There he is. Right down the pasaje. Willy Clauson. He’s sitting under a way-big vaquero hat, smoking a cigar and playing his guitar in front of his museum. Song’s “Adelita,” about the Mexican Revolutionary …
“In case I haven’t mentioned it lately,” says Debbie the bus driver through her microphone, “I love my passengers. Yee-haw!” Hey, it’s okay. This is the 35, the O.B. bus. People are allowed to be …
History in Chula Vista? You betcha. Like, the other day I came across a couple of geezers outside an eatery, yakkin’ away like there was no tomorrow. Seems they’d just met up again after half …
Guys asleep on the sidewalk. Guys shuffling past with walking sticks. Guys pushing shopping carts filled with their belongings. Guys rolling by in electric scooters with whiplash aerials and a faded Old Glory flicking at …