Thirty-Five Years Ago
At a mock Hollywood party in one scene of Rodgers and Hart, the pleasant musical revue at the Carter Centre Stage, a drunken partygoer makes the bold confession: “I’m heterosexual!” This is a key to what Rodgers and Hart, and a large proportion of popular music in general, is about. Popular songs — and a good deal of the operatic and art song repertoire as well — are relentlessly heterosexual; sex — and its sentimental elaboration, romantic love — is the obesessive subject without which this art could scarcely exist.
— “SONGS FOR LOVERS,” Jonathan Saville, July 22, 1976
Thirty Years Ago
I enjoyed the cover story on San Diego during World War II, by Andrew Piotrowski. However, the closing paragraph, recounting my memory of the war’s end, surprised my mother and I, since I wasn’t born yet!
Actually, the quote belongs to Lee Grissom, president of the Greater San Diego Chamber of Commerce, who, incidentally, has a memory like an Apple Two-Plus computer.
— LETTERS: “I COULDN’T HAVE HAD A V-J,” Walter E. Schlotter, director San Diego Motion Picture and Television Bureau, July 23, 1981
Twenty-Five Years Ago
This is a tale of two streets in one city. They share the same name — Seventeenth — and the same city — San Diego.
During the last 36 years, there has been one push in the Nestor neighborhood to rename Seventeenth Street; it died quicker than a block party without beer. But last month, the Osgoods, Barbara and Steven, presented the city with a petition signed by 71 percent of the house dwellers on Seventeenth Street Jr.; the 39 signatories agreed that they wanted to live on Thermal Avenue from now on.
— CITY LIGHTS: “AND WOKE UP ON AN AVENUE,” Brae Canlen, July 24, 1986
Twenty Years Ago
Over 2,500,000 people moved into San Diego County between 1980 and 1990.
And this figure does not count the millions of illegal aliens, largely from Mexico, who move here for San Diego’s temperate weather, bilingual ATMs, and easygoing immigration authorities.
For Americans moving to San Diego, a big attraction is the near-certainty that a hometown boy will one day be in the White House.
“It’s common knowledge throughout the land that Pete Wilson’s gonna be our next president,” said Maureen Down, veteran New York Times reporter and avid president watcher, who recently closed on a $360,000 house in Mission Hills. “Everyone wants to live here now. It’ll be like Kennebunkport, but with Sea World.”
— SAN DIEGO CONFIDENTIAL: “DAGO PACES SUNBELT GROWTH,” Margot Sheehan, July 25, 1991
Fifteen Years Ago
I feel hot all the time. Twenty-six weeks into my 40-week pregnancy, I’ve gained 30 pounds. My thighs rub together when I walk. My belly stretches like an inverted industrial-sized mixing bowl from just below my breasts to my hips. My butt has widened and fallen. I look like a refrigerator from the rear. I’ve begun to waddle.
My moods swing from euphoria to suicidal.
— KID STUFF: “WHAT ARE YOU SCARED OF?” Anne Albright, July 25, 1996
Ten Years Ago
The first time we met, Eugene followed me into the Little Chef restaurant and asked me if he could buy me a malted. But I didn’t want to be committed for a whole malted ’cause a malted cost two bucks, so I said, “No, but you can buy me a cup of coffee,” cause I figured for a quarter even if I just let the guy sit by me and be nice to him, that’s worth a quarter. And I had already planned to give the wrong phone number if he asked me for it.
— “ARGUMENTS,” Douglas DuBrul, July 19, 2001
Five Years Ago
It’s a little embarrassing that I’ve spent eight years in a 12-step program and not done a fourth step.
I season my two cups of salad with shame, sweeten my one cup of yogurt with self-loathing, and am liberal with the use of quilt and the convictions of my unlovableness in my half cup of oatmeal.
— “DOWN AND UP AND DOWN AGAIN,” Frances Kuffel, July 20, 2006