Be Grateful, Lady
Thank you, Ms. Mitchell, for a very well-written article about your dad (“God, Country, and My Dad,” June 20 cover story). Be thankful, in whatever way you choose to do that, because the majority of children do not experience the kind of freedom and gentleness which your father gave you.
My father talked about the Catholic Church, and about politics all of the time. He never saw me or my sister as human beings who needed their own path of growth and development in life. He didn’t let me work, because he wanted to control me. He wouldn’t let me go to my choice of high school or college.
What’s worst of all, he wouldn’t let me sleep after the age of eight, in order to “get his satisfaction” on my body. My mother wouldn’t let me or my sister have rooms of our own, and set up a foldaway couch in the living room next to my father’s bedroom. She had her own bedroom because she chose to no longer sleep with him. Get the picture?
Be grateful, lady, that you had it better than at least 75% of the rest of us.
Sex vs. Gender, Redux
“Name Withheld” doesn’t get it about misusing the terms sex and gender (Letters, June 20). There was an error in all dictionaries which states that both terms are nouns. Sex is supposed to be a verb, and gender is supposed to be a noun.
The question on forms, “What’s your sex?,” is asking for whether or not you participate, which is (N) No, (Y) Yes, (TY) Too Young, or (TO) Too Old. The appropriate question should be, “What’s your gender?” The answer to which is either: (M) Male, (F) Female, (OC) Off-Center, (R) Reversed, (U) Undecided, or (FT) Fashumult.
Saul Harmon Gritz
Anyone who knows, or knows of, Robert Smith, Chairman of the Pala Band of Mission Indians, will join me in criticizing his letter to the editor in the June 20 edition of the Reader.
First of all, Robert Smith has neither the vernacular, nor the vocabulary to have penned such a letter. Second, this diatribe goes on and on, as if only to demonstrate the linguistic expertise of a scholar, because there is nothing substantial ever said, no alternative scenarios are presented to illustrate his objections to the article (except for the picket fence argument, which is inconsequential to the real issues), like, for example, where do the proceeds of the disenrolled go?
Third, Mr. Smith has no less than three bodyguards with him at all times. Two elders on the Tribal Council, Smith’s own inner circle, are personally known to me and both have expressed being terrified of voicing opposition to him.
How can one man circumvent and obfuscate a criteria which is a measureable physical value: 1/16? How arrogant this individual who refashioned Tribal Law so that it dismisses the essential denomination of heritage. What right does Smith have to shut out his very own cousins, who have lived on the reservation near poverty for generations, from their bloodline’s entitlement?
Regarding this quotation from Barbarella (“A Hard Place,” June 13): “The ‘no electronics, even in airplane-mode’ rule is stupid.... I sneak-read from my devices during takeoffs and landings.”
Who knew we were to take diva, as in “Diary of a Diva,” literally? Apparently, the rules that apply to me and thee carry riders exempting Barbarella.
Jessica Julia Cantor
The Truth About Food
Ed Bedford has stumbled upon a truth again and it’s titled “À la Disney” (Feast, June 20). It’s so true, this theme-park replication of restaurants that have all these cutesy little names.
I remember in the ’70s, living in Denver, we had all these cutesy names like Starboard Tack. It just went on and on.
Yes, we need our own teams. We need our own type of San Diego restaurant. These companies that own half a dozen to a dozen restaurants, and sort of theme their way around San Diego, they’re soulless. They’re not owned by one person or a family, or a small group of friends. They just replicate restaurants and put these cutesy little names on them to try and attract tourists and ballpark fans. They come and go. It’s just the theme-of-the day restaurant.
I thank God that Ed is out there writing the truth about food.
Potential in Ramona
“You Can’t Pet a Solar Panel” (May 30 cover story) was an eye opener on many fronts.
Does Ramona have the beauty of a national park? No. In my opinion, Ramona has all the appeal of a dilapidated trailer park overrun with weeds, rodents, and meth addicts.
Do Mr. Brennecke and Mr. Myers have a valid argument opposing the solar panel project their neighbor would like to build? No! Ken and Jerry are opposed to the project because they were not offered a potentially lucrative offer from Sol Orchard.
Richard Drury states that the soil on Mr. Bousema’s property is so badly contaminated, any workers installing solar panels could be exposed to unacceptable levels of contaminants. Yet, he seems perfectly at ease with growing food crops on this potentially contaminated soil; resulting in potentially contaminated food, to sell to consumers. Which consumers? Naive city slickers?
With San Diego County’s long history of military uses of the land, along with high-tech manufacturing, and the myriad of toxins involved in both areas, I now have serious concerns for locally sourced foods winding up on my table! Any contaminants in the soil might not respect property lines. Would you feel comfortable eating dairy products and eggs (or anything else) raised on potentially contaminated soil?
Seriously, are you going to trust the word of someone whose only motivation is to make a profit off of you? “Monsanto” might be a dirty word, but at least they know the value of making sure their products are not grown in potentially hazardous soil!