When you hear hoofbeats, think horses, not zebras, it’s an often-repeated med-school axiom that means consider the simple solution first. Dr. Clarence "Joe” Gibbs, Jr., a researcher at the National Institutes of Health (NIH), hears …
Dear Matthew Alice: If you're in a falling elevator, and just before it hits you were to jump in the air, would you be fine? B.C.La Mesa Fine isn't the adjective that pops into my …
At 75 he still mourned his mother. He dreamed about her often. Stood, like Babar, in the window, remembered her. Saw her in her coffin. Dreamed of my mother. The house we’d lived in.
Late August: On this muggy morning, the air hangs thick under a gray, un-comforting sky. In a small hollow among small hills m East San Diego, several-score teenage boys and a few men gather at …
The sailor came here in 1974. San Diego was an exotic port. He felt strange and free. The attraction was aesthetic. There was no snow. (He was from Minnesota.) There were palm trees and beautiful …
Early in the couple’s marriage, Ellen made Vincent promise that he would see to it that she died in her own bed next to him and not among strangers. Whether this promise will be kept drives Gordon’s novel.
Six days before the story’s planned publication, Dan Broderick — who had willingly spoken with us on several occasions — informed the Reader that he would sue the paper for invasion of privacy should any article appear.
"Should the court decide to incarcerate me, I will freely accept this as an opportunity to suffer with my unborn sisters and brothers who are daily sentenced — unjustly — to a permanent and irreversible removal of their human rights."
The Museum of Photographic Arts, the Gallery Store, and the Reader would like to thank San Diego County photographers who submitted entries to this year's contest. A total of 880 entries was received from 345 …
It had been five years since I had toured the bars, discos, strip joints, and dollar-a-dance whore emporiums of Tijuana. I had been writing a novel back then, and I wanted to walk in the …
Marking the end of a basement corridor in the Clarion Hotel (formerly the Lafayette), a doorway frames a rectangle of strong light. Figures move against the light. Shrill talk and laughter rocket out. Jean pauses …
When the invitation to audition for a local production of Gilbert and Sullivan’s Trial by Jury arrived in the mail last winter, my first reaction was to drop it into the trash. I hadn’t sung …