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Thirty Years Ago
1. Why do you buy ink especially designed to come off all over me? I have to be careful not to read your issue wearing light-colored clothing!

3. Surely you get letters asking if Matthew Alice is a hermaphrodite, but do you print them? Of course not!

10. I once saw a letter you chose to print which urged you to start charging even a small sum for your little paper, but I say don’t push your luck!
LETTERS: “BOMBS OVER BALBOA PARK,”Jacqueline Swatow, April 27, 1978

Twenty-Five Years Ago
Rob Hagey told fellow concert promoter George Wein that “many times I’ve felt like throwing a pie in your face.” While Wein’s local Kool Jazz Festivals were a big success, young Hagey had struggled since 1979 to keep alive his yearly San Diego Jazz Festival. That meant giving up his income as a tennis instructor for the summer months while he worked finding sponsors for the jazz festival and booking acts such as Sun Ra, Dexter Gordon, and Jack DeJohnette.
CITY LIGHTS: “JAZZMEN AMALGAMATED,” Paul Krueger, April 28, 1983

Twenty Years Ago
“Let’s say you and I, we’re dealing dope. We argue over price. Say I’m a 300-pounder. You put a knife into me and kill me — unjustifiably. I’m sitting there on your sofa, a 300-pound dead man. What can you do to keep police from identifying my body? Hence, what is known by detectives as a ‘bathtub butcher’: the body is placed in a bathtub and sectioned.”
“THE TOOTH DETECTIVE,” Judith Moore, April 28, 1988

Fifteen Years Ago
The best salvage yards in San Diego County can be found along the Mexican Border. Head south on I-5 or I-805, turn east on State Highway 905, chug up onto Otay Mesa, turn left on Heritage Road, and it begins, a bonanza of junkyards. The names beckon. First Auto Wrecking, Middle East Auto Wrecking, Central Auto Parts, Ramon’s, Montoya’s, Jalisco, Payless, El Leon, Miranda, Brothers, California. It’s a lip-smacking variety of mechanical refuse.
“WHERE THE ROAD-BEASTS GO TO DIE,” Patrick Daugherty, April 29, 1993

Ten Years Ago
While Clinton was supposed to be there at 11:00 a.m., by high noon, he still hadn’t showed.

Rather than sweat through my pinstripes in my seat, I used this waiting time to work the crowd.

During my retail-politics reconnaissance of the crowd, one hand I didn’t shake — because she refused to offer it — was that of Christine Kehoe, the only openly gay member of the San Diego City Council. Kehoe is a bespectacled lesbian with the thick, amorphous body of a bull dyke gone to seed.
“TRIUMPH OF HOPE OVER EXPERIENCE,” Peter Navarro, April 30, 1998

Five Years Ago
Hats off to the Reader for snatching Don Bauder out of retirement. I suspect he was pushed out the U-T door by the cocktail-corruption set he so eloquently describes in today’s issue (“Cocktail Corruption,” “City Lights,” April 17). I hope for some inside info on life at the U-T and on their senior management, but I assume they were smart enough to force the independent-thinking scribe into signing a nondisclosure agreement.
LETTERS: “SCRIBE SNATCHED,” Chuck Allen, April 24, 2003

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