I just have a comment on your cover story, “Keep Out” (June 18). I think Mr. Bob Kuczewski’s a little bit of a nut, but he does have a point. It’s a public park.
Anyway, the reason I’m calling is because you keep hyphenating his name the wrong way when you break it at the end of a line, and continue it on the next line. It should be Ku-czew-ski. How do I know that? Well, I grew up with a lot of Polacks!
I also studied the Polish language. I have a couple of Polish grammar books in the house, and two or three Polish dictionaries. Take my word for it. If you don’t believe me, just ask any other Polack.
You have Kuc- at the end of a line, then zewski. That’s wrong. You can’t break the cz.
I guess I’m an honorary Polack. Or maybe an ornery Polack.
Re: Ed Bedford's Tin Fork about the Princess Pub in Little Italy
Ever since Little Italy has been gentrified — that is to say, destroyed — I can’t stand to go there. Even the church is full of yuppies and their ilk. So, I don’t got there either.
Decades ago I came to San Diego as a serviceman. I was in my teens. Little Italy was real then. The sound of Italian voices, the various accents: Genoese, Neapolitan, Sicilian, and occasionally Tuscan and Venetian.
There were a certain number of real Italian restaurants with cucina casalinga. There were real Italian barbers. The sermons in the church were often in Italian. The prices were modest, and the food was heavenly. Many of the old Italian families still lived there despite the destruction of the neighborhood by the Anglo-Saxon freeway. The fragrance of Italian cooking came out of every house, especially on Sundays.
What is there now? Boomers and their spawn, or as they used to be called, yuppies. Poodles and pit bulls, yuppie girls with big boobs and everything hanging out.
Addio, Little Italy. Addio.
Tell Marty Graham (Neighborhood News: “Barber-Slash-Slasher Gets Ten Years in Jail”) that there are no medics in the Navy! As big a presence as the Navy has in San Diego you’d think one of you libtards would know that by now.
Although Graham may refer to Tim Vaughn as a medic, most knowledgable American citizens would call Petty Officer Vaughn a Navy corpsman. President Obama refers to such a person as a corpse-man.
It is amusing, actually laughable, the fiasco your politicians and police create regarding your strip joints (City Lights: “In the Line of Booty”). In San Francisco, my hometown, we’ve long come to grips with the fact that men and women have been financially involved sexually forever, and will be forever in the future.
While you spend money and time on this private behavior between consenting adults, your city (just like ours) is filled with hundreds of homeless — many veterans! — who are in desperate need of assistance. It is sad that in your very rich city you don’t focus attention on this issue, and let those adults paying for and playing with sex continue to do so, as long as they don’t create mayhem and murder.
Sex will be with us forever, no matter how many do-gooders try to interfere with it. So will the homeless if you (and San Francisco and all American cities) don’t do something humanely sensitive to solve it. Let’s get our priorities straight, shall we?
So, the war against Christianity continues (News Ticker: “Church in Limbo”). I’m betting the city would bend over backwards to accommodate a Mosque in that “prime industrial zone.” Let’s get one thing straight. There will be no sharia law in America. (For those of you from Rio Linda, sharia law means it’s ok to stone to death women and gays).
I really loved your explanation of Spanglish (“Press 1 for Spanglish”). I’d like to suggest that you print your entire magazine in Spanish, and see what it does to your advertising base. Thank you, and have a buen dia.
Love the “Taco Town” article. Too many tacos. Not enough time.
Would love for you to expand your reach south of the border. Our family has been going to the same dentist for 30 years in Tecate. We’ve found some awesome tacos there.
We’ve eaten at a fish taco stand for that long. Their amazing tacos are always two-for-one (less than a buck each). They now are a full-fledged restaurant, called Mariscos Chemal (on Alvaro Obregon). They also have a great healthy fish taco, grilled in a lettuce wrap.
About 15 years ago we happened on a street taco stand just over the border crossing that introduced me to legit adobada cooked on a spit, and homemade tortillas cooked to order. The carne asada is incredible as well, and their quesadilla with carne and strips of chorizo is luscious — Los Panchos on Avenida Revolucion.
After reading weeks and weeks of letters about pit bulls, all of a sudden I have been struck with what may be a brilliant idea!
When I was a kid, lockjaw was something you could get by stepping on a rusty nail in a pile of horse manure. They gave you a tetanus shot to prevent it.
I do not have a computer, but apparently these pit bull lovers communicate with each other over the internet. So, maybe they could all get together and form a club. Then they could raise enough money to buy a few acres and put an impregnable zoo-type fence around it and create a bully park! Everybody could bring their pit bull to the bully park and turn them loose inside it. They could all congregate, and love each other and play with each other. They could have all sorts of dog amenities in there.
If any of the pit bulls got into a fight, and happened to eat each other up, or maybe chew a leg off one of the owners, well, so what? It would be inside the bully park and it wouldn’t affect anybody else.
They could charge membership fees like a country club. You’d need your special validated card to get inside the gate. They could just be in the few acres of park and just have at it. They could have their fun and not bother the rest of us.
I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe they could put up a statue of me as the father of the bully park.
I find your paper enjoyable and on a par with others like the San Francisco Bay Guardian and the Chicago Reader. However, I have lately been distracted by your seemingly inane method of breaking up longer articles. Why can’t articles longer than one page be resumed on the following page, rather than on page n+x? I spend too much time paging back and forth. Your method demonstrates neither logic nor predictability.
Not enough letter writers call out your political journalists for praise. They all do a fantastic job of speaking truth to power and holding the fat-cats’ feet to the fire. Kudos especially to Don Bauder, Matt Potter, and your hilarious cartoonist Neal Obermeyer for opening the kimono to see what these schmucks are all about, including the PUC, SDG&E, city hall, the Spanos goofs et al.!
As ratepayers, every one of your readers should also give a shout-out to Mike Aguirre and Mia Severson for doing their best to provide San Diegans with a butt-plate to keep the PUC, SCE, and SDG&E from royally screwing us over the whole San Onofre cluster. Shareholders, assume the position!
I’m requesting an astrology column in the Reader, like I see in other papers around the nation, such as Rob Brezsny’s Real Astrology.
I just have a comment on your cover story, “Keep Out” (June 18). I think Mr. Bob Kuczewski’s a little bit of a nut, but he does have a point. It’s a public park.
Anyway, the reason I’m calling is because you keep hyphenating his name the wrong way when you break it at the end of a line, and continue it on the next line. It should be Ku-czew-ski. How do I know that? Well, I grew up with a lot of Polacks!
I also studied the Polish language. I have a couple of Polish grammar books in the house, and two or three Polish dictionaries. Take my word for it. If you don’t believe me, just ask any other Polack.
You have Kuc- at the end of a line, then zewski. That’s wrong. You can’t break the cz.
I guess I’m an honorary Polack. Or maybe an ornery Polack.
Re: Ed Bedford's Tin Fork about the Princess Pub in Little Italy
Ever since Little Italy has been gentrified — that is to say, destroyed — I can’t stand to go there. Even the church is full of yuppies and their ilk. So, I don’t got there either.
Decades ago I came to San Diego as a serviceman. I was in my teens. Little Italy was real then. The sound of Italian voices, the various accents: Genoese, Neapolitan, Sicilian, and occasionally Tuscan and Venetian.
There were a certain number of real Italian restaurants with cucina casalinga. There were real Italian barbers. The sermons in the church were often in Italian. The prices were modest, and the food was heavenly. Many of the old Italian families still lived there despite the destruction of the neighborhood by the Anglo-Saxon freeway. The fragrance of Italian cooking came out of every house, especially on Sundays.
What is there now? Boomers and their spawn, or as they used to be called, yuppies. Poodles and pit bulls, yuppie girls with big boobs and everything hanging out.
Addio, Little Italy. Addio.
Tell Marty Graham (Neighborhood News: “Barber-Slash-Slasher Gets Ten Years in Jail”) that there are no medics in the Navy! As big a presence as the Navy has in San Diego you’d think one of you libtards would know that by now.
Although Graham may refer to Tim Vaughn as a medic, most knowledgable American citizens would call Petty Officer Vaughn a Navy corpsman. President Obama refers to such a person as a corpse-man.
It is amusing, actually laughable, the fiasco your politicians and police create regarding your strip joints (City Lights: “In the Line of Booty”). In San Francisco, my hometown, we’ve long come to grips with the fact that men and women have been financially involved sexually forever, and will be forever in the future.
While you spend money and time on this private behavior between consenting adults, your city (just like ours) is filled with hundreds of homeless — many veterans! — who are in desperate need of assistance. It is sad that in your very rich city you don’t focus attention on this issue, and let those adults paying for and playing with sex continue to do so, as long as they don’t create mayhem and murder.
Sex will be with us forever, no matter how many do-gooders try to interfere with it. So will the homeless if you (and San Francisco and all American cities) don’t do something humanely sensitive to solve it. Let’s get our priorities straight, shall we?
So, the war against Christianity continues (News Ticker: “Church in Limbo”). I’m betting the city would bend over backwards to accommodate a Mosque in that “prime industrial zone.” Let’s get one thing straight. There will be no sharia law in America. (For those of you from Rio Linda, sharia law means it’s ok to stone to death women and gays).
I really loved your explanation of Spanglish (“Press 1 for Spanglish”). I’d like to suggest that you print your entire magazine in Spanish, and see what it does to your advertising base. Thank you, and have a buen dia.
Love the “Taco Town” article. Too many tacos. Not enough time.
Would love for you to expand your reach south of the border. Our family has been going to the same dentist for 30 years in Tecate. We’ve found some awesome tacos there.
We’ve eaten at a fish taco stand for that long. Their amazing tacos are always two-for-one (less than a buck each). They now are a full-fledged restaurant, called Mariscos Chemal (on Alvaro Obregon). They also have a great healthy fish taco, grilled in a lettuce wrap.
About 15 years ago we happened on a street taco stand just over the border crossing that introduced me to legit adobada cooked on a spit, and homemade tortillas cooked to order. The carne asada is incredible as well, and their quesadilla with carne and strips of chorizo is luscious — Los Panchos on Avenida Revolucion.
After reading weeks and weeks of letters about pit bulls, all of a sudden I have been struck with what may be a brilliant idea!
When I was a kid, lockjaw was something you could get by stepping on a rusty nail in a pile of horse manure. They gave you a tetanus shot to prevent it.
I do not have a computer, but apparently these pit bull lovers communicate with each other over the internet. So, maybe they could all get together and form a club. Then they could raise enough money to buy a few acres and put an impregnable zoo-type fence around it and create a bully park! Everybody could bring their pit bull to the bully park and turn them loose inside it. They could all congregate, and love each other and play with each other. They could have all sorts of dog amenities in there.
If any of the pit bulls got into a fight, and happened to eat each other up, or maybe chew a leg off one of the owners, well, so what? It would be inside the bully park and it wouldn’t affect anybody else.
They could charge membership fees like a country club. You’d need your special validated card to get inside the gate. They could just be in the few acres of park and just have at it. They could have their fun and not bother the rest of us.
I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe they could put up a statue of me as the father of the bully park.
I find your paper enjoyable and on a par with others like the San Francisco Bay Guardian and the Chicago Reader. However, I have lately been distracted by your seemingly inane method of breaking up longer articles. Why can’t articles longer than one page be resumed on the following page, rather than on page n+x? I spend too much time paging back and forth. Your method demonstrates neither logic nor predictability.
Not enough letter writers call out your political journalists for praise. They all do a fantastic job of speaking truth to power and holding the fat-cats’ feet to the fire. Kudos especially to Don Bauder, Matt Potter, and your hilarious cartoonist Neal Obermeyer for opening the kimono to see what these schmucks are all about, including the PUC, SDG&E, city hall, the Spanos goofs et al.!
As ratepayers, every one of your readers should also give a shout-out to Mike Aguirre and Mia Severson for doing their best to provide San Diegans with a butt-plate to keep the PUC, SCE, and SDG&E from royally screwing us over the whole San Onofre cluster. Shareholders, assume the position!
I’m requesting an astrology column in the Reader, like I see in other papers around the nation, such as Rob Brezsny’s Real Astrology.