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: Looking for Luke at Dragonfly
The director of entertainment operations had a great deal of entertainment to direct
Daring Greatly at Dragonfly
Susan tells me that Luke Harmon is around here somewhere — right after she makes sure I don’t have to pee. Just now, she’s directing people to the restroom and answering questions at the TERI Campus of Life in San Marcos. The most frequent query concerns directions to the facilities, but the whereabouts of Director of Entertainment Operations Luke a close second. I've sighted him a few times but haven't managed to make contact and snag my admission to the Dragonfly Music Festival, a multi-band event organized by the Six String Society post-Covid, with earlier incarnations in Sedona, Arizona. Hosting the festival helps TERI continue its mission to provide opportunities for people with developmental disabilities.
Luke materializes long enough for a quick hello, and passes me a lanyard pass before going off to do Luke stuff. I wrap up my conversation about tattoos with Susan to the beats of Monette Marino Band on one of two stages that alternate acts. Out on the lawn, a dude dances like no one’s watching. He continues to boogie during Ass Pocket Whiskey Fellas and The Sea Monks, but wears down a little by the time San Diego Music Award winners The Sleepwalkers start their set. But when he’s joined by more dancers as the bands play on, the company seems to energize him. (Whatever's fueling him, I don't think it's booze: He doesn’t join in sipping an alcoholic beverage when the Fellas say “policy” and raise their glasses to the crowd.)
I look around for java and happen upon breakfast, made fresh in TERI’s kitchen. Cynthia, a therapist for the Carlsbad school district, works for TERI, and today, she’s making sure the food gets where it needs to be. Heading back to the music, a guy stops me and comments on my KISS shirt, telling me he “saw them when nobody knew who they were.” I’m open but skeptical, and as he tells me about a pre-Alive show opening for Blue Oyster Cult, I realize the date is accurate. Luke zips by on his way to do something, and I think I see a walkie-talkie in his hand. Getting out of the direct sun, I look in on the displays of art in various mediums created by participants at TERI. It’s as satisfying as the culinary art that created the French toast sticks for breakfast.
TERI’s goodhearted magnetism attracts support from the community, and often, people who visit want to get more involved. When Kirk went to get a cup of bitter black at Common Grounds, the coffee shop and restaurant on campus, he saw what the organization was doing, and soon started volunteering. Now he’s standing next to a white piano popping with painted-on colors. The immersive visual is part of the Oceanside Public Piano Project that hand paints and places the instruments in public spaces for anyone to play. Kirk invites me to tickle a few ivories, but I decline. It's a beautiful piece; no sense contaminating it with my cacophony.
Later, I follow my nose to the pork brisket slider being served for lunch. This results in my feeling like a salmon swimming upstream against a mass exodus coming out of the dining area to see Mercedes Moore (also an SDMA winner). The air is punctuated with excited voices: “Mercedes is on!” and “Mercedes is my favorite person!” Moore and her band justify the excitement with a far-ranging set that showcases her voice as it switches from gritty to smooth for the next 45 minutes. I hear someone saying they're looking for Luke as a man compliments my Iron Maiden hat. We discuss the concerts we’ve seen and our favorite albums before his friend mentions the Alice Cooper show coming up.
My new Maiden pal is a school principal who plays “School’s Out” on the playground every final day of the school year, much to the delight of his students. The Tri City Rollers featuring Stevie Salas take the stage shortly after Moore ends her set, playing the same songs they jammed on as kids: Aerosmith, KISS and Cheap Trick, with active audience participation. Not wanting to decline this show, Salas flew from a different continent to North America to be here, and will fly to yet another in the morning.
As Daring Greatly sets up, I make one last pass through the concourse, spotting a large fish providing fresh sushi courtesy of Sushi on a Roll, which features a TERI roll. The ragged remnants of the tuna's tail suggest that a shark attempted to make a meal of the fish before we did. I can’t decide if sharks or sushi freak me out more, so I enjoy the Allman Brothers-like sounds of Daring Greatly, who played a show in British Columbia last night and flew in to play this one. Commitment and community are what define TERI, making it a perfect place for Dragonfly.
As I leave, I notice Luke is wearing a yellow vest, making him easier to spot. We exchange a few words, and I ponder the text on the back of TERI staff shirts: “Where there’s hope, there’s a way.” It occurs to me that the ceramics, the food, the painting, and the music are all forms of art. And where there’s art, there’s hope.
Here's something you might be interested in.
Gonzo Report: Looking for Luke at Dragonfly
The director of entertainment operations had a great deal of entertainment to direct
Gonzo Report: Looking for Luke at Dragonfly
The director of entertainment operations had a great deal of entertainment to direct
Daring Greatly at Dragonfly
Susan tells me that Luke Harmon is around here somewhere — right after she makes sure I don’t have to pee. Just now, she’s directing people to the restroom and answering questions at the TERI Campus of Life in San Marcos. The most frequent query concerns directions to the facilities, but the whereabouts of Director of Entertainment Operations Luke a close second. I've sighted him a few times but haven't managed to make contact and snag my admission to the Dragonfly Music Festival, a multi-band event organized by the Six String Society post-Covid, with earlier incarnations in Sedona, Arizona. Hosting the festival helps TERI continue its mission to provide opportunities for people with developmental disabilities.
Luke materializes long enough for a quick hello, and passes me a lanyard pass before going off to do Luke stuff. I wrap up my conversation about tattoos with Susan to the beats of Monette Marino Band on one of two stages that alternate acts. Out on the lawn, a dude dances like no one’s watching. He continues to boogie during Ass Pocket Whiskey Fellas and The Sea Monks, but wears down a little by the time San Diego Music Award winners The Sleepwalkers start their set. But when he’s joined by more dancers as the bands play on, the company seems to energize him. (Whatever's fueling him, I don't think it's booze: He doesn’t join in sipping an alcoholic beverage when the Fellas say “policy” and raise their glasses to the crowd.)
I look around for java and happen upon breakfast, made fresh in TERI’s kitchen. Cynthia, a therapist for the Carlsbad school district, works for TERI, and today, she’s making sure the food gets where it needs to be. Heading back to the music, a guy stops me and comments on my KISS shirt, telling me he “saw them when nobody knew who they were.” I’m open but skeptical, and as he tells me about a pre-Alive show opening for Blue Oyster Cult, I realize the date is accurate. Luke zips by on his way to do something, and I think I see a walkie-talkie in his hand. Getting out of the direct sun, I look in on the displays of art in various mediums created by participants at TERI. It’s as satisfying as the culinary art that created the French toast sticks for breakfast.
TERI’s goodhearted magnetism attracts support from the community, and often, people who visit want to get more involved. When Kirk went to get a cup of bitter black at Common Grounds, the coffee shop and restaurant on campus, he saw what the organization was doing, and soon started volunteering. Now he’s standing next to a white piano popping with painted-on colors. The immersive visual is part of the Oceanside Public Piano Project that hand paints and places the instruments in public spaces for anyone to play. Kirk invites me to tickle a few ivories, but I decline. It's a beautiful piece; no sense contaminating it with my cacophony.
Later, I follow my nose to the pork brisket slider being served for lunch. This results in my feeling like a salmon swimming upstream against a mass exodus coming out of the dining area to see Mercedes Moore (also an SDMA winner). The air is punctuated with excited voices: “Mercedes is on!” and “Mercedes is my favorite person!” Moore and her band justify the excitement with a far-ranging set that showcases her voice as it switches from gritty to smooth for the next 45 minutes. I hear someone saying they're looking for Luke as a man compliments my Iron Maiden hat. We discuss the concerts we’ve seen and our favorite albums before his friend mentions the Alice Cooper show coming up.
My new Maiden pal is a school principal who plays “School’s Out” on the playground every final day of the school year, much to the delight of his students. The Tri City Rollers featuring Stevie Salas take the stage shortly after Moore ends her set, playing the same songs they jammed on as kids: Aerosmith, KISS and Cheap Trick, with active audience participation. Not wanting to decline this show, Salas flew from a different continent to North America to be here, and will fly to yet another in the morning.
As Daring Greatly sets up, I make one last pass through the concourse, spotting a large fish providing fresh sushi courtesy of Sushi on a Roll, which features a TERI roll. The ragged remnants of the tuna's tail suggest that a shark attempted to make a meal of the fish before we did. I can’t decide if sharks or sushi freak me out more, so I enjoy the Allman Brothers-like sounds of Daring Greatly, who played a show in British Columbia last night and flew in to play this one. Commitment and community are what define TERI, making it a perfect place for Dragonfly.
As I leave, I notice Luke is wearing a yellow vest, making him easier to spot. We exchange a few words, and I ponder the text on the back of TERI staff shirts: “Where there’s hope, there’s a way.” It occurs to me that the ceramics, the food, the painting, and the music are all forms of art. And where there’s art, there’s hope.
Comments