Flights of Frisbee

Thirty-Five Years Ago
The sixth annual Tecate-Ensenada Bike Ride will be held this Sunday, beginning at 9 a.m. in the Tecate square. What started as a joke five years ago with ten riders has hit the big time, with last year’s field numbering 256 in the rain and hail. But it’s still a joke.
— CITY LIGHTS: “RIDING HIGH,” Rich Donnelly, March 25, 1976

Thirty Years Ago
RUSSEL, I just cannot picture you as the end result of millions of years of evolution. Can you prove you have a thumb? Laura.

STEPHANIE, let’s talk by phone. Multiply my box by 53255 then add 3. Pretty females find me attractive but aren’t the words. I’m the tune.

IN THE NEXT world you’re on your own! God.
— CLASSIFIEDS, March 26, 1981

Twenty-Five Years Ago
More than once (twice, I think) I’ve asked myself if anyone has established any official standards of frisbee finesse. Usually I’ve gotten no answer. Now I realize that I should have been asking Clayton Chase. He’s the marketing director of the International Flying Disc Association. I’m not kidding.

According to Chase, the IFDA will host the 1986 World Indoor Freestyle Frisbee Championships this week in San Diego (take that, Republican National Convention).
— “FLIGHTS OF FRISBEE,” John D’Agostino, March 27, 1986

Twenty Years Ago
When San Diego city employee Marcus Arenas pulled down his pants and mooned Harold Pearce, Pearce knew something was up. Pearce had been photographing Arenas and other city workers as they hoisted a beer keg up a flagpole during a raucous party at a Scripps Ranch water-treatment plant. The festivities were in honor of a coworker who had just been named the water department’s “employee of the quarter.” But for many at the affair, it was their last good time on the public payroll. Three of them were fired and arrested after Pearce claimed they beat him up and stole his camera for taking pictures of the mooning and municipal mirth-making.
— CITY LIGHTS: “MOON FOR THE MISBEGOTTEN,” Colin Flaherty, March 28, 1991

Fifteen Years Ago
The waltz and the polka were the 19th Century’s mosh pit. The only significant difference between them is that the 19th Century’s mosh pit was more honest in its aims: violence was not used as an excuse for physical intimacy. Which isn’t to say that egos were not bruised or feelings were not hurt during the course of a passionate waltz or polka. But 19th-century dancers were made of stronger stuff — the wounding they endured was of the romantic kind and didn’t heal as quickly as a blackened eye or skinned knee.
— “NONE OF AN AFFAIR’S CLUMSY REPERCUSSIONS,” Abe Opincar, March 28, 1996

Ten Years Ago
In 1925 George Marston and the San Diego Chamber of Commerce decided to honor La Jolla philanthropist Ellen Scripps for her contributions to community life.... The Chamber called on La Mesa artist James Tank Porter, who was known, among other things, for his sculptures of children.

On June 28, 1995, about 1:00 in the morning by everyone’s guess, Porter’s tribute to Miss Scripps was uprooted and carried off. It was not elaborately secured to its concrete base. Today Porter’s kneeling child likely resides in a garden at a private home, taken by an admirer or by someone who knew they could easily and quietly sell it. Perhaps it was melted for scrap. Despite a $1000 reward and a listing in a worldwide registry of missing and stolen art, Porter’s statue, San Diego’s first outdoor public commission, has never surfaced.
— IN PASSING: “LITTLE GIRL GONE,” Linda Nevin, March 22, 2001

Five Years Ago
In this universe, you’ve got to feel sorry for Strokes singer Julian Casablancas when the most-quoted line from his third album is “I’ve got nothing to say.” You might want to cheer him up. “Hey, don’t feel so bad. Most of your peers don’t have anything to say either.” Or even, “Hey, who needs something to say when you’ve got a tight band, catchy lines, and a cool voice?”
— OF NOTE: “THE STROKES,” William Crain, March 23, 2006