Here's something you might be interested in.
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed
Big Screen — Movie commentary
Blurt — Music's inside track
Booze News — San Diego spirits
Classical Music — Immortal beauty
Classifieds — Free and easy
Close to Home — What it’s like on the street where you live
Cover Stories — Front-page features
Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes
Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts
Feast! — Food & drink reviews
Feature Stories — Local news & stories
Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore
From the Archives — Spotlight on the past
Golden Dreams — Talk of the town
The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it
Letters — Our inbox
Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites
Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans
Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists
Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news
News Ticker — News & politics
Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated
Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna
Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated
Poetry — The old and the new
Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers
Reading — The hunt for intellectuals
Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails
San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds
SD on the QT — Almost factual news
Sheep and Goats — Places of worship
Special Issues — The best of
Street Style — San Diego streets have style
Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves
Theater — On stage in San Diego this week
Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative
Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work
Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego
Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads
Your Week — Daily event picks
Gonzo Report: A day full of music and a belly full of pie in Julian
Music fest seeks to raise enough funds for a permanent setup
The Ordeal
“He’s staring at your ice cream,” says a woman working the information booth at the Julian Town Square Music Festival. This by way of explaining her husband’s hungry stare in my direction. I can’t blame him for his food lust: I’m in Julian, so pie is a requirement, and the dollop of ice cream atop my slice of caramel-apple is melting just enough to sink into the pastry beneath. The road to dessertgasm was a long one: stretched-out asphalt freeways giving way to serpentine paths up the mountains. Watching other motorists whip past me in larger vehicles by cutting over into the opposite lane was only a little less nausea-inducing than looking past the guard rail and seeing the drop.
When I left the city, it was cloudy, maybe even a little chilly, so the scorching of my skin upon my arrival in town is jarring. I start to wonder if it’s because I’m closer to the sun here, then realize that this was the reasoning behind the eco-horror classic Day of the Animals, in which the depleted ozone layer was responsible for driving wildlife insane. I make a mental note to keep an eye out for German Shepherd puppies masquerading as wolves — and for anyone bearing a passing resemblance to Leslie Nielsen, who plays the main villain in the film.
The town square is given over to a configuration of benches and a stage, plus the occasional hay bale. Vendors line the perimeter, some providing shade with their booths, others leaving customers exposed to UV rays. The goal of this annual event (the fourth) is to raise enough money to install permanent seating, providing an outdoor venue and gathering place for the town. Donn Bree and Friends take the stage to play the mixture of bluegrass, country and rock that Bree is known for outside of his other life as a Santa Ysabel-based realtor. I don’t catch the names of his friends, as I’m wandering around the vendors when a woman approaches me and tells me I’m not from Julian. I’m not sure what gives that away, so I ask. She tells me she hasn’t seen me hook my thumbs in my pocket.
As she walks away with a knowing nod of her head, I wonder how long she’s been watching me, and I find myself looking around for the telltale gesture before I’m distracted again by a store called Julian Book House that reminds me of the place where the good guys gathered inTwin Peaks. There’s no Dale Cooper or Hawk there, but I do spot a couple hunting for books: DeLeeia and Antony. We chat about what we’re currently reading and our favorites. I don’t come away with a solid recommendation, because both of their tastes run to religious philosophy and historical minutiae. Still, it's an energizing discussion that buoys me back to the Town Square, where Erin Miller is doing spoken word in addition to his emcee duties. He uses a stage name, but during conversation, he insists on Erin. His rhymes contain dire warnings of the consequences of both hate and killing the planet. Whether or not the audience appreciates it, they’re polite. Me, I’m emotionally affected.
It turns out I’m just as emotionally invested in the tacos from QUECHO Elevated Mexican Cuisine, which has a stand on the perimeter. It's named after co-founder Jose’s hometown, and the aroma is so intoxicating that I over-order and overeat with absolutely no regrets. When I offer some chips to the people seated next to me, I am happy they decline. And there’s always room for the pie, which I savor as bassist Marcia Claire (bass), drummer Rob Garbo (drums), Cathryn Beeks (vocals, ukulele, percussion) Jim Diez (guitar, vocals), John Katchur (guitar, vocals), and Josh Weinstein (keys, vocals) — known collectively as The Ordeal — take the stage, their sweet harmonies and harder-edged material enhancing the delectable morsels I’m savoring. I head out after their set, though there’s plenty of music left in the day. I’m hot, stuffed, and I have a long-ass drive “down the hill.”
Then the stand for HolsApple Hats catches my eye. Handcrafted and customizable by hat-lover Tara Holsapple, they’re a SoCal mountain town tradition. Beeks sang their praises from the stage. Not my style though, so I just hook my thumb in my pocket as I head toward my car.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: A day full of music and a belly full of pie in Julian
Music fest seeks to raise enough funds for a permanent setup
Gonzo Report: A day full of music and a belly full of pie in Julian
Music fest seeks to raise enough funds for a permanent setup
The Ordeal
“He’s staring at your ice cream,” says a woman working the information booth at the Julian Town Square Music Festival. This by way of explaining her husband’s hungry stare in my direction. I can’t blame him for his food lust: I’m in Julian, so pie is a requirement, and the dollop of ice cream atop my slice of caramel-apple is melting just enough to sink into the pastry beneath. The road to dessertgasm was a long one: stretched-out asphalt freeways giving way to serpentine paths up the mountains. Watching other motorists whip past me in larger vehicles by cutting over into the opposite lane was only a little less nausea-inducing than looking past the guard rail and seeing the drop.
When I left the city, it was cloudy, maybe even a little chilly, so the scorching of my skin upon my arrival in town is jarring. I start to wonder if it’s because I’m closer to the sun here, then realize that this was the reasoning behind the eco-horror classic Day of the Animals, in which the depleted ozone layer was responsible for driving wildlife insane. I make a mental note to keep an eye out for German Shepherd puppies masquerading as wolves — and for anyone bearing a passing resemblance to Leslie Nielsen, who plays the main villain in the film.
The town square is given over to a configuration of benches and a stage, plus the occasional hay bale. Vendors line the perimeter, some providing shade with their booths, others leaving customers exposed to UV rays. The goal of this annual event (the fourth) is to raise enough money to install permanent seating, providing an outdoor venue and gathering place for the town. Donn Bree and Friends take the stage to play the mixture of bluegrass, country and rock that Bree is known for outside of his other life as a Santa Ysabel-based realtor. I don’t catch the names of his friends, as I’m wandering around the vendors when a woman approaches me and tells me I’m not from Julian. I’m not sure what gives that away, so I ask. She tells me she hasn’t seen me hook my thumbs in my pocket.
As she walks away with a knowing nod of her head, I wonder how long she’s been watching me, and I find myself looking around for the telltale gesture before I’m distracted again by a store called Julian Book House that reminds me of the place where the good guys gathered inTwin Peaks. There’s no Dale Cooper or Hawk there, but I do spot a couple hunting for books: DeLeeia and Antony. We chat about what we’re currently reading and our favorites. I don’t come away with a solid recommendation, because both of their tastes run to religious philosophy and historical minutiae. Still, it's an energizing discussion that buoys me back to the Town Square, where Erin Miller is doing spoken word in addition to his emcee duties. He uses a stage name, but during conversation, he insists on Erin. His rhymes contain dire warnings of the consequences of both hate and killing the planet. Whether or not the audience appreciates it, they’re polite. Me, I’m emotionally affected.
It turns out I’m just as emotionally invested in the tacos from QUECHO Elevated Mexican Cuisine, which has a stand on the perimeter. It's named after co-founder Jose’s hometown, and the aroma is so intoxicating that I over-order and overeat with absolutely no regrets. When I offer some chips to the people seated next to me, I am happy they decline. And there’s always room for the pie, which I savor as bassist Marcia Claire (bass), drummer Rob Garbo (drums), Cathryn Beeks (vocals, ukulele, percussion) Jim Diez (guitar, vocals), John Katchur (guitar, vocals), and Josh Weinstein (keys, vocals) — known collectively as The Ordeal — take the stage, their sweet harmonies and harder-edged material enhancing the delectable morsels I’m savoring. I head out after their set, though there’s plenty of music left in the day. I’m hot, stuffed, and I have a long-ass drive “down the hill.”
Then the stand for HolsApple Hats catches my eye. Handcrafted and customizable by hat-lover Tara Holsapple, they’re a SoCal mountain town tradition. Beeks sang their praises from the stage. Not my style though, so I just hook my thumb in my pocket as I head toward my car.
Comments