People thought San Diego was becoming Los Angeles

Thirty Years Ago
TO RELATIVES of PSA-Cessna crash: Do you want the truth, the facts? Write J.P., P.O. Box 9224, San Diego 92109.

PHOENIX SUNSHINE: I’m male, 17, and interested. Would you like to see Styx? Meet me at Florida and University next 4 nights at 6 p.m.

PEGASUS: Anxious to meet you, and take it from there; Balboa Park fountain at 1 p.m. on 10/14. I’ll wear brown/orange Hang Ten shirt. Pucker Paul.

CAPTIVE, let’s meet at the large water fountain, Balboa Park, October 21, at 2 p.m. I’ve dark, curly hair and am carrying Reader.

EXCITABLE GIRL: Meet me at Sambo’s on Friars Road, 10 a.m., Sunday. Dress for sailing. Siegfried.
— CLASSIFIEDS, October 12, 1978

Twenty-Five Years Ago
“I think that if you’re going to have an intellectual education, you’ve got to read a lot of books,” observes Barry Hyman, a 28-year-old student in visual arts at UCSD. And if the school’s Central Library authorities had not caught up with him, Hyman would be pursuing said education with 973 volumes at his side.

On Thursday, September 15, after receiving a tip-off from the visual arts department that Hyman had an large number of library books in his second-level Mandeville Center studio, library employees set about confiscating and organizing the collection.
— CITY LIGHTS: “HIS SHELVES NO LONGER GROAN,” Abe Opincar, October 13, 1983

Twenty Years Ago
There are two kinds of people in San Diego: the ones who think San Diego is becoming another Los Angeles and the ones who have been to Los Angeles recently.

I escaped from L.A. It took me two years to dig the tunnel, but I did it, and I’m glad. As an ex-Angeleno, a recovering rat racer, a former cellmate to the stars — well, let me tell you, freedom never drove, smelled, or looked so good. Stop griping, San Diego. You will never be like L.A.

I hope.
— “I’LL TAKE SAN DIEGO,” Steven Saint, October 13, 1988

Fifteen Years Ago
You won’t find Dahmer’s Diner on the bill at the Cannibal Bar in Mission Beach. In fact, DD has been banned from all but two venues in town, SOMA and Cafe Chabalaba, though they are embraced at certain clubs in Austin, Dallas, San Francisco, and Los Angeles, among other places. While they have been interviewed by the punk-rock press ’zines from places as far away as Holland, they have real trouble in San Diego. These Santee boys, graduates of Santana High School, have even been banned from the Spirit Club.
— “EATING PEOPLE IS THE ULTIMATE CONTROL,” John Brizzolara, October 14, 1993

Ten Years Ago
I tighten my right arm around the cheetah’s neck. He has a deep purr, like a Harley-Davidson heard cruising along two blocks away. I try not to think of his teeth and claws, but his teeth and claws become the only important subject. This is a 120-pound adult male that can hit 45 miles per hour in two seconds. I can’t even hiccup that fast.
— “ARE YOU HAPPY, BROTHER BEAST?” Stephen Dobyns, October 15, 1998

Five Years Ago
When he’s home, Dominick Moscatello washes out his spiked “liberty mohawk” before bed. But the Mower lead singer says his single row of five spikes stays up when he’s on the road.

Mohawk grooming involves shaving the nonspiked part of his scalp twice a week.

Some rockers use Aqua Net hairspray for their action-figure hairdo. Moscatello prefers gelatin.

“You get four packs of Knox gelatin and a quarter cup of water. You heat it in the microwave for 30 seconds and mix it up. If it gets too chunky, you add a little bit more water to it. You put it in your hair immediately.”
— BLURT: “I’VE GONE TWO WEEKS WITHOUT WASHING MY HAIR,” Ken Leighton, October 9, 2003