Next, I’d recommend that you guys/gals print a story about how the sheriff’s department consistently denies citizens the right to conceal carry permits.
I just read Josh’s article (“Something to Smile About,” “Crasher,” July 16) in which he quoted me as saying that Randy Meisner punched Don Henley. Wrong! Randy likes Henley. He punched Glenn Frey. I hate to get on the bad side of all of those guys in one day, so please print a correction.
By the way, I liked the rest of Josh’s article.
We Dare You
People become upset when they see law-abiding citizens openly carrying unloaded guns (“They Carry Guns,” Cover Story, July 16). I am more upset at the thought of criminals carrying sharpened pencils. When it comes to the matter of carrying a loaded, concealed gun I am sure that the criminals will strictly comply with all laws at all times. After all, that is why they are criminals.
Now then, what comic book do these Second and Fourth Amendment rights come from? Nonsense such as this might inadvertently lead to freedom of speech and the press. I need to crack open a container of good, vintage canned laughter, but I am not sure whether or not I need a permit to do so.
Who would dare sign their name to this?
Name Withheld by Request
Douse The Flames
Cheers to Duncan Shepherd for his dead-on critique of the Brüno flick (“Gay Abandon,” Movie Review, July 16). As a gay man who has had his fill of flaming-queen movies, I thank him for allowing me the opportunity to skip this one. Sacha Baron Cohen’s flamboyant disguise is bad enough for five minutes on late-night talk shows but becomes unendurably tacky for a feature-length movie. His calculated efforts not only make “no excuse for a camera to be present,” but no excuse for an audience being there either.
Good Ink For God
I really appreciated reading Matthew Lickona’s positive article on the Horizon Coast Chapel in Mission Beach (“Sheep and Goats,” July 16). It was a well-written piece, and it was refreshing to see that folks can run a caring, common-sense church despite not being well-received and yet still get a positive write-up in the paper! Sadly, there are too many negative stories about churches in most papers today (some of them deserved, but many of them not, in my opinion). Kudos to Mr. Lickona!
I like reading “Sheep and Goats” columns by Matthew Lickona. This one (July 16) was especially good with the quotes from the worship leader.
Name Withheld by Request
This is the second time my name has been misspelled in the sudoku section. I just checked my sent emails, and it was sent correctly each time and then gets published as Joe Funa, instead of the correct spelling, Joe Furia.
Rose Creek Rehab
Construction of Mission Bay, America’s largest aquatic park, is a 20th-century monument to economic progress at any cost. Bill Manson, author of “Ok, This Is Tuesday, But Where Is Everybody?” (Cover Story, July 2) led readers around the man-made bay that decades past was a thriving estuary-marsh — home to a billion migratory waterfowl, seemingly infinite numbers of shore and wading birds, and nursery to myriad fish species. Then came the reminder about what happens when humans’ desire for creature comforts trumps nature’s creatures: “If you’re a duck or a fish, Mission Bay has been ruined.” Views of environmental activists were poignant, particularly the list of native species that ought to be plentiful in the bay but are conspicuously absent.
Detailing the adverse effects of development and urban encroachment on what was formerly a mecca for fish and wildlife, Mr. Manson might be surprised to learn that Mission Bay’s primary connecting stream, Rose Creek, which he mentions by name only, has a rich ecological heritage. Decades ago, Rose Creek and its coastal canyon were home to nearly all flora and fauna found in the San Diego bioregion, including native steelhead salmon.
Today Rose Creek hosts a nursery for native fish species, such as Pacific mullet and killifish. Its salt marsh and estuary provide forage for herons and egrets, in addition to young halibut and sea bass, among other fish species, valued for commerce and sport. Hundreds of widgeon and small numbers of mallard, bluebill, and merganser ducks find refuge in the creek’s open water every winter. In spring, mallard hens raise ducklings in small pools sequestered by tall rush and cattail. The documented list of avian species sustained by the creek’s varied habitat numbers nearly 200. Only walking distance to SeaWorld’s famous theme park, Rose Creek is testimony to nature’s resilience, when given half a chance.
The creek’s rebound came through a benchmark reclamation project never before attempted. Two civic-minded volunteers with a passion for the natural world drove an effort to remove 100 tons of garbage, acres of nonnative shrubs and trees, and extensive homeless encampments (some of which harbored wanted criminals). That was just the beginning.
In pioneering the revitalization of Rose Creek and providing outdoor experiences for youngsters, California’s first environmental education and ecological restoration charity was born. With private funding and eventually local and state government support, habitat for birds and fish was enhanced using innovative, low-cost techniques and natural materials. Erosion-control revetments and a native garden were installed near the Rose Creek Cottage, in addition to an improved bike path beside the watercourse near Mission Bay High School.
Wetland habitat was constructed atop the barren concrete floor of the flood channel — a first for California’s urban creeks. Native vegetation was restored to lower-reach embankments, along with access trails that encourage local schools to use the area as an outdoor science laboratory. Hands-on programs in water-quality monitoring and conservation biology and an in-class rainbow trout hatchery curriculum reaped national, state, and local awards for environmental education leadership.
In 1996, the vision manifested to make Lower Rose Creek Canyon an educational nature preserve. Years of neglect had allowed the area to become a polluted, weed-choked garbage dump and homeless campground. With city public works crews chafing to bulldoze a thriving wetland in anticipation of predicted winter floods, volunteer conservationists went into action. They clambered over boulder-covered channel embankments and into a head-high labyrinth of overgrown vegetation, household refuse, construction debris, and piles of god-awful garbage. Using only garden-variety tools and hand labor over three days, 650 persons turned ten acres of urban blight into a scenic waterway for the benefit of wildlife and humans.