The Noisy Apprentice

So Sanders, eh?

2005-11-09T00:32:00.000-08:00

Can't say it was really a surprise.

But watching the results come in was almost excruciating. When the absentee results were up at 8 o'clock, I couldn't believe the size of the spread (59 to 40 percent). When the next 10 percent came in hours later, the margin had narrowed by 2 percent. It was getting closer!

But no. I can't not be disappointed with Frye's loss, but I can say objectively that she deserved it. She was running her campaign on a horrendously optimistic view of San Diego voters. Most of the politician-human hybrid magic that last year's effort so inspired (and successful) was tossed aside in favor of detailed plan discussions, as if voters were just going to remember that Donna was so honest and approachable.

They didn't. Sanders came across as straightforward, relatively honest, and determined. He threw down a to-the-point message at every opportunity. When Donna was blithely reminding viewers that her opponent knew all the mistruths he was telling — and stopping there — Sanders was constantly on the attack.

The jabs worked. Despite that fact that Sanders was so recently tied to ex-Pension Board trolls and reliably changed his plan every six days, he managed to paint the first city official to take on the pension crisis as a carpet-bagging union 'bot. Absurd! And Frye knew it and counted on voters to know it... and lost.

Diary of a groundbreaker...

2005-10-31T04:04:00.000-08:00

... sort of. The L.A. Times has given its business columnist Michael Hiltzik a blog. Which wouldn't be all that interesting except that his blog kinda-sorta works like this one: it's a personal blog sponsored (here insert "linked to") a mainstream, nonbiased news source. His first post is quite a rumination on all the challenges, which I didn't quite have the foresight to ponder back in June when Voice and I started this thing. And let me know what you think.

One thing students can do for themselves: make porn

2005-10-31T02:34:00.000-08:00

UCSD senior Steve York likes to cause a stink. Last spring he broadcast a pornographic video of himself having sex with an unidentifed woman on Student Run Television, a closed-circuit, campus-only station, at about 11 o'clock at night. Naturally, it provoked quite an outrage from both the administration and members of the student government.

So naturally, the aspiring porn director and smarmy law school applicant did it again — twice.

York is a former editor of The Koala, UCSD's infamously offensive and obscene humor newspaper. "Obscene" actually doesn't cover it: call it racist, sexist, ultraviolent, bigoted, disgusting — the Koala has historically done anything it possibly can to offend as many people as it possibly can.

York savors the thrill of pushing people's buttons in the same way, but he's not as stupid as you might think from reading an issue of the Koala. He's attached his porn-broadcasting campaign to the struggle over free-speech rights. And as of Oct 27, when he pasted the face of an Associated Students senator in place of the unidentifed woman in his most recent film, his late night broadcasts have become political.

At least that's what he's claiming. Associated Students, which funds SRTV, passed an amendment the day before York's most recent show aiming to ban "graphic sexual activity including nudity" from broadcasts, and York says his latest effort is an act of civil disobedience, not personal attack.

Uh huh.

Kate Pillon, the A.S. senator pasted in to the videos, was an outspoken critic of SRTV's transgressive airwaves. I heard several who were in attendance at last Wednesday's A.S. Council meeting express surprise at the intensity of her statements — including York himself, who, shall we say, chose language incongruent with a mere political disagreement to describe the senator.

We could get really ugly thinking about all the ways in which what York did is personal. (Having political tones doesn't mean an action has only political tones.)

But whatever. York likes to split hairs to appear in the right. He'll be a good lawyer. The interesting question is, should closed-circuit student television stations run as-explicit-as-it-gets porno films late at night? Besides dorm halls and student lounges, recipients of the feed include some campus hospitals (I think) and, earlier, SRTV's website, which was not legally disclaimed to show such content.

A.S. president Christopher Sweeten said he had to physically stop the administration from shutting down the station after York's first broadcast this school year. Students are for the most part ambivalent about the issue (surprise).

I'm curious what all of you think about student-made porn on student-run television for almost exclusively student viewers. Is it really such a big deal? Should the administration, who've delegated responsibility to dealing with the issue to A.S., be more involved? Should they have put an end to this a long time ago?

Forgotten citizens of a city growing up

2005-10-18T16:23:00.000-07:00

When was the last time you wandered through the gaslamp at 10:45 on a Monday night?

After failing to make it to the Iron & Wine show at House of Blues -- they start and end rather early by Casbah standards -- I found myself out in the streets, doing just that. On my little walk, I made a funny discovery about the gaslamp: minus the sequins and booze-shouts of a tourist-jammed weekend night, our little downtown jewel is rather empty... except for the beggars.

I won't call them homeless, because I don't know that they are. But I couldn't walk half a block without being called to, shouted at, or reached for by some sad-eyed mendicant asking for money. One, a graying African-American man, followed me down the street, asking for $2 for a sandwich.

"I think you could give it if you wanted to," he called down the street to me.

I was surprised at how hard it was for me to walk away -- especially because, at the time, he was wrong (not to sound snotty, but students -- some of them anyway -- know their own kind of temporary poverty.) But I hate that I have to build up my defenses to walk through what is supposedly the nicest part of downtown at a not-absurd hour. These experiences are weirdly saddening. I can walk right by, too, but not without thinking hard about it.

Still walking, I made another observation: the rather sharp racial divide between the patrons and employees of the Gaslamp. The tourists, for the most part, are white; the taxi-drivers, janitors and busboys nearly all of color.

One doesn't normally think of diversity, or of poverty, when they think of San Diego. Why is this? And when are we going to start?

There goes the neighborhood

2005-10-12T11:02:00.000-07:00

Oh, no. A reader of Voice writes:

Scott Peters is widely tipped to be presiding officer of the eight member new City Council after Jan. 1, 2006. He will have many of the powers of former mayors, particularly the power to control the council docket.

If Sanders wins the Mayor's Office, the Republicans will own this town. Redevelopment projects will proliferate and the general fund will be unable to sustain even basic services. "Enron by the Sea" will become "Halliburton by the Sea."

About Peters the pseudo-Dem, I'm disgusted too. But the Republicans already own this town, don't they?

One of the crucial differences between Sanders and Frye for me is the attitude they have toward the involvment of the people in government, the lack of which seems to be the real reason we're here today. It's the complacent voters of Peters' district that reelected a sleepy snake for a representative, probably because its too sunny all the time (or they're too far away) to care about City Hall. This is classic San Diego, isn't it? Lots and lots and lots of people just don't seem to care or don't inform themselves about their choices. The politicans they elect shore up their side of the equation by doing what's best for themselves and their cushy job. Then something like the pension crisis happens, which should prove to everyone just how completely screwed up the city government is. We need a real change in the people of San Diego, who've been a bad parent to their politicians, letting them raise themselves. You leave the toddlers loose in the TV room (or City Hall) for too long and look what happens. Instead of yelling at the toddlers to fix it themselves, isn't it time for the people to finally get involved?

Person by talented person, Voice is growing up

2005-10-09T18:23:00.000-07:00

It's a beautiful thing getting to watch a (still unique) publication grow itself, as the town it covers tries to grow up too. When I started working in the office at Voice, the editorial staff couldn't all go to lunch together because there wasn't anyone else to answer the phones. Reporters on deadline chronicling Aguirre's latest declarations would get held up by ancient gadflies asking, in disbelief through the handset, if we really don't print on paper, ever.

That's all different now. Shortly after the summer interns came onboard, Voice moved to a bigger space across the hall. Soon we'll have to move again, as the nest is growing: there's a veritable army (and by an army I mean two or three) of editorial assistants and office managers now; soon there'll be a full-time Web person and a full-time marketing person, too.

Which means good things are coming. The trusty rectangles of the current site will hopefully soon be replaced by, well, prettier rectangles. Maybe they'll change the site to acknowledge that I sadly don't have time to update this blog every single day (though its not for lack of things to rant about.)

Most importantly, I'm hoping a full-time marketing person will be able to spread the word of Voice's existence past the mostly city hall-focused crowd that now reads the site. Marketing won't do it alone -- the coverage will have to expand as well -- but I get the impression from unscienfitic field polling that many outside of the downtown circle haven't even heard of us yet. That doesn't worry me (we're only seven months old and started without any proven template) but look for it to change real soon.

The Damning News Comes Down

2005-10-06T01:34:00.000-07:00

A smoking gun is something to marvel at, especially when its arrival is marked decisively, by calls for resignations. We should take pause at the awesome effect of the 60,000 documents recently released to local media by the city's audit committee. The information contained in them, upon exposure to the light of the public, immediately caused a shift in the balance of human power.

Think about it: an innocent little CD-ROM, containing virtual arrangements of characters digitized by now-infamous (some not) human hands sometime years ago. Read it or understand what it says, and who said it, and suddenly a version of the past which some had taken for granted, which many had dismissed, is now essentially confirmed. The excuses, the alibis, the pretty language -- they are all blown away by this new information.

A milestone in San Diego's pension crisis has occured. With this clearer sense of the past, the next step is suddenly clearer also -- the calls for resignation should be followed by letters of resignation, and a new chapter in the SDCERS board should begin.

The evidence is here. But when -- and exactly how -- we will be able to practically realize it is not yet clear.

What would you do if they FBI came knocking at your door?

2005-10-04T02:42:00.000-07:00

You would let them in.

And if they handcuffed you for three hours while carefully gathering up most of your valuable possessions and carrying them off in a paper bag, what would you do then?

You would get pretty pissed. Former Navy boy Justin Hand did, because in addition to raiding his home, the FBI has already locked his wife up for refusing to talk to them. Danae Kelley and other members of the animal rights activist community say the FBI is harassing them for not wanting to talk to a lecture they attended in 2003 with radical activist Rod Coronado, 12 hours after a $50 million dollar act of alleged environmental terrorism in the form of an arson fire at a condo complex in University City.

Kelley has been locked up since the middle of July on a contempt charge for refusing to talk about who else attended the lecture. Hand told me that refusing to talk to authorities about other activists is grounds for ostracism in the tightly-knit activist community, where he says the line between peace-loving idealists and explosion-happy radicals is often hard to discern. If the University City fire was in fact committed by the Environmental Liberation Front, as a sign left at the scene seems to indicate, its likely that whoever did it discussed it with very few other people -- even other activists, Hand said.

Kelley has insisted opaquely that she will never testify. She and Hand see the raid on their home as an act of harassment, and perhaps rightly. Kelley is the victim of a very curious legal whirlpool -- the grand jury system -- which seems a little weird taken in the spirit of our legal system. At the grand jury in front of whom 21 year-old Kelley is being coerced to testify, she would not have access to her attorney. There would not be a judge in the room. It would be her, the prosecutor, the grand jury, and the oath. And of course, the Feds don't have to talk to anyone about what they're doing, how many people are being served with subpoenas, or what their specific interest in this people even is.

Kelley isn't prepared to name the members of her social community to a force that has brought horrendous strain on her and her family. She argues that it violates the 5th Amendment right to free assembly. (Judges in the past have found that forcing an individual to reveal the members of a dissident or minority group is unconstitutional.)

Then there's the harassment: the raid, Danae's imprisonment, the FBI's failed attempt to subpoena Hand. The Feds are clueless as to who actually committed this crime, and these rather mild young animal-rights activists are paying for it.

Candidates: Learn a little, gain a lot

2005-10-02T19:01:00.000-07:00

You could say, perhaps not unfairly, that college students blurt rather loudly about their own interests in the world: We want everything. Give it to us, and then listen when we want more.

That doesn't seem so unjustified when the people who give the attention use our room to ask for our vote.

I wasn't at Friday's mayoral debate at UCSD's Price Center Theater (the room was full when I got there.) But the candidates' reported glossing over of student issues in their debates didn't go over too well.

To be fair, students are fair-weather friends of city politics, offerring lots of criticism, little informed attention, and far too few votes. There's a tendency -- especially among undergraduates -- to treat San Diego like a town out there somewhere, a nice string of bars and beaches for the hours between class.

But with many college students moving off campus their later years, and taking jobs here after they graduate, it would behoove city politicians to look at making a public relations investment in the fickle young. A few small successes for this group could win effusive loyalty.

For instance: big, expensive, long-term issues like affordable housing and transportation are some of the most important for students. Instead of getting shaky, take them in small chunks: Why isn't there a bike path to La Jolla/North PB from UCSD? Is there really a La Jolla ordinance that keeps groups of students from living together (and anything to do about it)? Why is San Diego's not-horrible arts/music scene scattered between Encinitas and Barrio Logan?

SDSU and USD people, forgive me for blanking on the daily inconveniences of your 'hood. I know they exist. Wouldn't you love someone forever if they did something about it? Or at least let you know they were aware of it?

Can you find the bias in this article?

2005-09-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

...Because I sure can! Oh, Martin Stolz, U-T reporter (whom I've never met), what bad day did you have that you had to write an article so clearly arguing for one side of a story!

Let me digress in the hope that it will explain: We senior Urban Studies majors are currently settling on topics for our senior research project. One of the topics proposed by my professor, Urban Studies and Planning head honcho Keith Pezzoli, was a look at these new things called community benefits agreements, in which, according to Stolz, "neighborhood groups extract concessions in return for public support for [redevelopment] projects."

He pointed us to Stolz's 9/26 article on the U-T site, which transparently laments the creation of such thorns-in-the-side of gentrification plans. I surely wouldn't expect the flawlessly pro-development Union-Tribune to be for "neighborhood groups" that meddle with the shiny plans of Padre's owner John Moores' realty company, but they may have at least not ripped on the point of view of the other side. Isn't that Rule #1 of responsible journalism?

Perhaps they count as "the other side" a quote from SDOP member John Harder, who vaguely notices that "what's happened in the past hasn't come up with this level of benefit to the community." Stolz then paraphrases the view of labor and low-income advocates who didn't like the original plan.

But none of that counteracts the power of the consistently negative words Stolz uses to describe the actual, story-worthy development. The change that he is reporting is that a $1.4 billion plan faces a "troubled future" ... "[the plan] came unhinged" ... the deal was "secret" as opposed to being "an agreement worked out through lengthy community meetings"... the deal "undermines an established manner" ... In it, "neighborhood groups extract concessions" (like teeth?) ... and then the last quote, from CCDC head Joyce Sumner: "I thought the days of backroom deals were over. I'm very, very disappointed. This is a shocker."

That sounds terrible! Why don't we roast these "neighborhood groups" for causing such chaos?

Wait -- Stolz sort-of explains. The Exec VP of Moores' realty company said: "We were told by council members that we needed to get together with the community and make this a better project." Oh.

Then, the kicker:

"They" -- seemingly, all of Stolz's sources (including the developers) -- "all said theirs was a better deal than CCDC's."

So the new, teeth-extracting, troubled future works better, eh? Then why report the story this way?

Let's just keep one thing in mind here:

2005-09-26T14:25:00.000-07:00

Although the word "tax" is supposedly sure-fire political death for any candidate, such mindless labeling and knee-jerk reaction ought to be tossed like corrupt politicians into the great B.S. incinerator (next to Murphy, etc.) The rules are different now, and guarantees against higher taxes are the last thing voters should look for as they choose a new mayor this fall.

City hall mudslinging and baggage aside, San Diego is a low-tax city. Studies prove this, but everyone who gets their rubbish hauled away for free (that means you) ought to be wise enough to realize they're getting a pretty sweet deal.

Of course, concrete evidence and the opinions of experts are not enough to make a politically unpopular fact reality for candidates in a mayoral election. So Jerry Sanders is using Donna Frye's acknowledgment that she may raise taxes eventually as mayor as a battleground -- while his own previously stated position agrees with her. According to Scott Lewis' analysis on Voice:

He also attacked Frye for suggesting that tax increases may someday fit into her plan.

"I literally can't imagine why we would be penalizing taxpayers for the poor decisions of this council," Sanders said in an interview.

Frye said it would be "insulting" to the voters to completely write-off tax increases in the future.

Sanders might actually agree with that statement. In his own "increasing revenues" plan detailed on his campaign Web site as of Sunday, he levels a charge:

"Given the magnitude of the city's financial problems, any candidate who tells voters he's taking options off the table; such as no new taxes or fees or no consideration of bankruptcy under any circumstances, is insulting the intelligence of his or her constituents," it reads.

"Insulting," they both said. Oh, sigh.

The Last Night of Summer

2005-09-22T00:34:00.000-07:00

This must sound ridiculous to most of you, but tonight (Sept. 21) is a very special night for the students of UCSD: weirdly, it's the last night of summer. As a person whose been in the public school system for most of his life it is particularly strange -- the last night I know for sure there'll ever be that absolute feeling of summer's end (thunderstorms be damned) that comes with a new school year... sniff, sniff. Perhaps I'm guilty of having been a bit too cynical about the start of a new school droll in the past -- especially when it wasn't college. But facing my last definite beginning, let everyone know: we college students are lucky and (at least by now) we know it. Let this countdown to the unknown begin.

Mornin', Mr. Aguirre (discoveries of a new 'hood)

2005-09-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

Rode my bike over to the Vons on Washington Ave. Sunday to pick up breakfast and watched quietly as none but a gym-fresh City Attorney Mike Aguirre tossed his goods on the belt right behind me...

"What's not to like about a Hollywood action star?"

2005-09-17T01:48:00.000-07:00

Economics allows for some interestingly bendy rules in the real world: As the law of diminishing marginal returns says benefit decreases as you keep eating, the law of serious actors says once the stink of BS wafts in, gravity catches up fast.

So Arnold, you're screwed.

It was kind of a cool idea, to have the biggest and flashiest state in the nation run by a big and flashy man so rich he had no reason to care what anyone thought or paid him -- no reason to do anything but what was right.

But the recent weeks have reinforced his opponents' idea that in acting as Governor, Arnold did what was easy and what paid instead.

A news analysis piece in Friday's LA Times lays it out pretty clearly. The gist: a Field Poll popularity rating of 36% -- far below where it was last year, but still above the legislature's -- and a reelection campaign timed to save his failing propositions.

With so many forces allied against him, it's hard to picture a bright future for the Terminator. Short of a major disaster, recent news of his ties to Big Business and his intimacy with lobbyists interferes rather conclusively with his image as a no-bull outsider, which was kind of his biggest political asset.

In other words, Arnold's political life was a balloon. It once seemed to float magically, but after a few punctures, all we're hearing is that whooosing sound of final destruction.

What makes a great city?

2005-09-12T02:48:00.000-07:00

It's a question we San Diegans ought to be asking ourselves.

Now, I love San Diego, and like most people who live here, I start squirming when someone calls it as anything other than fantastic. But I think most would agree with me when I say that our dear town has yet to mature into a vibrant metropolis on par with other "great cities" like San Francisco, Chicago and New York -- which for a thousand reasons, it ought to be someday.

Some of the those reasons are obvious: Weather. Location. (Repeat). Those are things that make it great now, and they will make it great until the Great Quake sends our idyllic playground twirling off into the Pacific one day.

Those are the things that bring the tourists.

But those are not the things that will make San Franciscans jealous. (To CCDC: Another Marriott in the Gaslamp won't earn us props from New Yorkers.)

What will make San Diego great, like those cities are great?

A citizenry that wants it to be.

A citizenry that can imagine what a gleaming, binational, matured-in-the-21st-century wonder our fair town might be if it only decided to act like it. Our population has boomed and the downtown has blossomed, but rather few San Diegans have looked up to realize that they don't live in an isolated suburb on the fringe of a minor military town. They live in a sprawling metropolis that spans two nations and has just about everything one could ask for from a big city -- except the public transportation. (OK, except a lot of things.)

I know -- the trolley is growing. But, along with attracting a diverse population, one of the most important aspects of a great city is having the infrastructure to let it bloom. Unless all those different people -- with their varied circumstances and finances -- can get around to see one another, the city is really a patchwork of interconnected suburbs. That's the L.A. model; go north to observe its misery -- insane traffic, isloated minds and neighborhoods, ugly sprawl -- and realize that's what we're headed for. In fact, that may be where we are.

It seems like a minor deficiency, but the lack of practical public transportation through much of the city of San Diego is postponing that greatness more than we realize. The great cities of the world are so because their compactness compresses social interaction into a restless bubble of color and change. People are like molecules -- heat them up and toss them together, and they move with more energy. This is what great cities do for human society, it is why they are great.

In San Diego, our greatness will come when that social energy comes. It is already there in certain places at certain times. But we need more of it. The way to get it, in this sprawling paradise, is to connect everyone through speedy, reliable, convenient public transportation.

It is going to cost a lot of money -- more than those with their heads in the sands of suburbia will want to cough up.

But imagine when one can take a shiny new trolley everywhere. Imagine when, armed only a transit map, one could get to even the more obscure corners of San Diego without a car.

Dear San Diegan: can you imagine life without a car?

Say yes, and we're halfway to greatness.

Schwarzenegger's back channels

2005-09-08T09:50:00.000-07:00

Ah, being home on vacation. Long nights, late mornings, getting to read the SF Chronicle instead of the U-T...

Wait -- what's this in yesterday's Chronicle? Something every Californian ought to read:

Within hours of Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger's inauguration in 2003 -- a day on which he pledged to devote state government "to your interests, not to special interests" -- business lobbyists began urging the nascent administration to weaken a law guaranteeing the right of workers to meal breaks.

In the months that followed, new court records show, a receptive Schwarzenegger administration worked intimately with the lobbyists -- particularly those for the California Restaurant Association -- to craft "emergency" regulations that would fulfill their agenda: end obligatory meal breaks and place new limits on employers' liability for violating the law in the past.

Hard times deserve hard questions

2005-09-07T02:48:00.000-07:00

I just finished watching John Stewart blast the President and laud the media for their respective responses to the Hurricane Katrina disaster and the post-Hurricane Katrina disaster. Nothing new there.

The cable news stations are beating the "Bush hesitated!" drums quite loudly, too, asking all sorts of rather unflattering questions while videotaping themselves. But still, nothing new there. (The TV flock will ask any question that earns ratings.)

The real head-shaker in regards to the Katrina fumble isn't on TV, or even in the merciless editorials running in the New York Times and other papers. It's on the AP wire.

A news-analysis piece on the wire dated Tuesday lays out the case pretty clearly.

WASHINGTON – The Bush White House is known for its ability to remain in control of its message and image, sliding out of crises with barely a scratch. Not this time.
Despite day after day of appearances by President Bush aimed at undoing the political damage from a poor response to Hurricane Katrina, the White House has not been able to regain its footing, already shaken by the war in Iraq and a death toll exceeding 1,880.

Jennifer Loven's story goes on to tell about the pieces of the government's response to the disaster that can be put together, a pretty daming report all-in-all. Which makes me wonder about John Stewart calling the failure "inarguable" (a word I usually take issue with), saying that for Republicans, the Katrina fumble is Bush's Lewinsky -- meaning, it's time to step up and admit that the man in charge didn't do his job the way he should have. (According to my timeline, he didn't even try to create the appearance that he was doing the job right until after he'd already done it wrong.)

But the real story out of Hurrican Katrina is not that the President doesn't like to admit his errors or that he screws up -- we knew that -- the real story is that the media has learned from its recent lame past.

When an experienced White House reporter for the omnipresent Associated Press is allowed to write an informative, damning story; when editorial pages across the country express undiluted frustration and disappointment in line with reality; when the TV slickos actually ask questions instead of just shuffling papers blankly -- then we have a media that's doing its job.

People deserve answers, and whether or not now is the time for the head-rolling session in the responsible bureaucracies that is sure to come, someone has to get them. I wonder about the people who say it's mean to ask hard questions of our leaders. Are they really worried about being mean? Or are they afraid of what answers they might get?

Don't Panic! (This blog will continue)

2005-09-06T04:04:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes -- just when it seemed those rumors of the Apprentice getting canceled, getting bored or perhaps becoming a poet/revolutionary somewhere in Mexico were true, I return. Though I'm sure you've all gotten so tired of seeing that damn thing I wrote about Cunningham so many weeks ago that you've stopped reading.

But just in case, I want to let everyone know that this blog will continue being updated daily (less often during weeks when President Bush is in town or I have to move or both) into the forseeable future. So there.

It doesn't seem right to go on blogging without acknowledging the unbelievable Hurricane Katrina disaster that's looming on everyone's mind right now. Many issues brought out by the disaster deserve attention, but one in particular fascinates me: the idea of third-world living conditions within the United States. In the course of the last few days, I've heard several people express disbelief that such ravaged, brutal and hopeless environments can exist within the borders of this country.

These people need to leave their suburb.

I have the utmost sympathy for the victims of this hurrricane, particularly the ones in the most frightening conditions. But as we watch their daily tragedy in horror, we must remember how many people live and die in this country everyday in violent, lawless and forgotten neighborhoods without aid efforts or international attention. There's no water to woo the TV cameras, but there are many parts of Los Angeles and even San Diego in which life isn't a far cry from the raw struggle that took place on the streets of New Orleans. When life returns to that great city, I hope the people of this country will continue the aid effort all the way and decide that crushing poverty and careless violence have no place in the richest country in the world.

Just Another Day in the Battle of San Diego

2005-08-26T11:00:00.000-07:00

If it was at all unclear why Randy "Duke" Cunningham announced he wouldn't seek reelection last month amid charges of corruption, it shouldn't be anymore:

SAN DIEGO – U.S. Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham "demanded and received" a bribe from a Pentagon contractor who paid "an amount far greater" than market value for the congressman's Del Mar Heights home in 2003, according to prosecutors.
...
Cunningham and his wife sold their Del Mar house to a company owned by Mitchell Wade, the president and owner of Pentagon contractor MZM Inc., on Nov. 20, 2003, for $1.675 million, "an amount far greater than its true fair market value," a prosecutor said in the papers.

"Cunningham demanded and received this money in return for being influenced in the performance of his official acts as a public official," prosecutor Jason Forge said in the papers.

Of course, Duke furiously denies the charges. But those words ("... demanded and received this money in return for being influenced in the performance of his official acts ...") don't pull any punches.

It's almost as if San Diego's amazing weather -- which seems downright miraculous compared to other parts of this country -- inspires our politicans to think they can get away with other miracles, like thumbing their noses at their duties as if no one will ever find out.

That's a completely ridiculous theory, but what two other aspects of SD life can we count on more than scandal and good weather? Bottomless financial disarray and the excruciating irony of seemingly every office in this potentially idyllic city concealing yet another money-grubbing, duty-ignoring public servant?

To be fair, I'm judging Cunningham's case without knowing the details (though the details look pretty damning.) His decision not to seek office could have been purely pragmatic.

But a revelation that should (would?) spark widespread outrage in any other town barely raises an eyebrow next to what we're used to. Not just with Cunningham -- the front lines are at City Hall, and the record of that Battle as published in Voice reads like the minutes of a well-educated playground squabble, an elaborate whodunit with a cast of seven year-olds who know more about law and accounting than honesty and truth.

To the point where the existence of bedrock under all this fill is absolutely questionable. Certainly it could exist in some form at the victory of one of the Generals (Aguirre, the Council, SDCERS) and perhaps their subsequent declaration of political marhsall law, which will mean NO MORE LAWSUITS, hopefully.

Really, the eventual solution will mean cooperation, the most overlooked necessity to progress in San Diego. Cunningham acted for his own interests, the monkeys downtown act in theirs (some of them otherwise, maybe) and the people circle in their everday ambivalence (or outrage), wanting merely fewer potholes and a house they can afford.

The warming sun rises and sets, its daily miracle obscured by the daily frustration of life in the Battle of San Diego.

President Bush is coming to San Diego

2005-08-25T17:22:00.000-07:00

He'll be at Naval Air Station North Island next Tuesday, giving a speech about the end of World War II and, reportedly, tying it the current war.

Hang up and drive? Have you seen the traffic around here?

2005-08-25T15:45:00.000-07:00

I know about as well as anyone can the dangers of using a cell phone while driving.

My first car accident (of three) occurred when a lead-footed 17 year-old decided he'd rather dial than see that the line of cars ahead of him had stopped. I was in the passenger seat of the first one he hit.

For a research methods class last year, I observed the habits of freeway drivers on I-5 from San Onofre to the Mexican border, trying to understand the mindset of the driver. My conclusion: most of them think talking is way more fun than driving.

It's nearly a daily occurrence, for me at least, to work up a full head of steam over a few miles worth of utterly oblivious driving by the car ahead, and realize upon passing just what it means to be oblivious - and irritated -- when they're chatting away happily while I slam the gas pedal in fury.

None of this ever made me think that we should outlaw talking while driving. In most situations I can drive safely while talking on a cellphone, I maintain, so many others probably can too. And plus, as a good American, I value convenience above all. Being able to talk and drive is infinitely convenient.

(But so, a friend reminded me a night ago, would driving drunk were it legal. I'd much rather roll home burping bubbles Mr. McGoo style than try to bear a night at Pacific Beach's Tavern on the Beach without a few strong drinks. There's nothing convenient about having to conjure up a good sob story to encourage the passing on of designated driver responsibilities: "Well, I know you drove last time, but you do have to get up early, and he's my friend, anyway...")

The wireless industry argues that cell phone use doesn't make driving more dangerous, which I think is impossible. Simple logic -- and the admission of every honest driver who has one -- will dictate that another digital distraction, especially one that requires immediate attention like a phone, isn't going to make the driving environment any safer.

New York, New Jersey, Connecticut and Washington, D.C. are apparently pretty skeptical too: all have banned roadchatting (hands-free excepted).

But watch technology solve this problem better than legislators. Every car already has a power plug and an audio system. Drivers can now purchase charger cradles for their phones, some of which even hook into the audio system.

A well-designed system in every car could single-handedly (pun intended) eliminate this problem. When you get in the car, you'd click your phone into a little cradle. When a call comes, there'd be a ring and maybe a light would flash on the dashboard somewhere. With a little microphone on the steering wheel (more expensive models could have nifty condenser mics that would allow the whole car's passengers to chat on speakerphone), the incoming sound could run through the car's existing speakers, eliminating the "look Ma -- no hands" driving predicament.

Though it sounds futuristic and fancy, it's really not. The mic/speaker/charging technology is already commonplace; all it needs is intelligent, and complete, integration to the car.

Such systems already exist in the aftermarket. With cell phones now as ubiquitous as automobiles, removing drivers' minds from where they ought to be and making the road (arguably?) more dangerous for all of us, why aren't they standard?

Lose that car (if you can)

2005-08-24T14:36:00.000-07:00

A new program for San Diego could make it easier to swear off those costly cars we depend on. SANDAG and Flexcar have introduced a new pilot program called "Compass+," a combined-fare card that lets the user access San Diego's trolley and bus system and gives them a discount on Flexcar use rates. They're recruiting people to give it a shot for six months and give feedback on how it works -- hit 'em at mba@sandag.org or (619) 699-7318 if you're interested.

I don't want to trash their new program before it even gets going, especially since I completely support the cause. But I'm a little worried about who will actually be able to make use of this system. There isn't a trolley stop near any of my usual destinations (how long before it gets to UCSD?), which won't be true for everyone. And while buses do work to serve the (huge) areas that the trolleys don't, they're too slow to be useful for many people -- it took the better part of an hour to ride from UCSD to Pacific beach the last time I tried. But this effort has its heart in the right place. Let's hope it's a success.

Chancellor Fox's UCSD

2005-08-22T15:16:00.000-07:00

As both Voice and the U-T published first anniversary looks at UCSD Chancellor Marye Anne Fox Monday (by coincidence, not conspiracy), it seems time for the Apprentice to weigh in on The Woman in Charge. Recommendation Numero Uno: get a new hairstyle, lady.

But seriously. The three years I've been at UCSD must have brought a lot of improvements to the university; we undergraduates have seen few of them. Doubtless, undergraduates like myself are installed on campus with a grumpy perspective that only gets worse as the cost of the experience goes up. We see the university's responsibility to us, and us only -- not the many other purposes it serves. We hold up accessibility (at least financially) as vital; we want more professors and smaller classes and more of them.

Want, want, want. But we also pay for it. Since my first year at UCSD, the beginning of each academic year has been marked by an apologetic but firm letter from UC President Bob Dynes explaining how many more hundreds (or thousands) of dollars students will have to cough up if they want to see that diploma on paper in the future. There's always a good external explanation, always a reminder that he's fighting for the university under difficult circumstances, and always a fee increase. When the letter comes, you know: two months until school starts. Get out the checkbook.

So when Fox started as Chancellor last year, she kind of walked the wrong way into a shooting range. Students are frustrated, understandably, by costs rising seemingly to infinity, with few tangible benefits. Classes are still huge and incredibly difficult to get into. The number offered each quarter seems to be shrinking, not rising.

And Students Who Are Not Science Majors, which it seems this campus, the university and much of the American educational system has forgotten about, routinely feel at UCSD that, though they technically make up a huge part of the undergraduate body, no one up top really gives a crap. Nevermind that most UCSD departments are cutting edge or that the university ought to serve all its students interests -- when you bring this issue up, as Jessica Horton did in her interview with Fox the Chemist, the answers are always anecdotal: Look at the Playhouse and our awesome theatre and dance departments. They're good.

But a great science school with good arts departments is not the same as a great school. UCSD's big brothers -- Berkeley and UCLA -- have great Bio and Physics departments, but they also have world-class Literature and Sociology departments, and great arts departments. UCSD does excel at dance, theater and music -- but how many people on campus (or off) know this? And why is it so common to hear nonscience professors talk about UCSD like it's the dustbin of academia -- "well, if this wasn't a science school, maybe people would care..."

Part of the campus life equation Fox seems to be missing is that a rich environment exists when everyone's interests are supported equally. At UCSD, campus life is what you'd expect of a science school: it eats ramen for dinner, plays a little Warcraft, and goes to bed early. It doesn't have time to read (much less write for) a campus newspaper, or go to any of the world-class arts events on campus, which seem better supported by gray-haired La Jollans than curious or worldly students. Political events are either ignored or misunderstood by passerby with a better grasp of astrophysics than human history, much less critical thought. Weren't we supposed to get an education?

A few aspects of UCSD ought to stay exactly as they are. The lack of major sports like football keeps the campus focused on ideas, which is exactly how it should be. The recent drive to improve campus life shows good faith on the part of the administration, though it still has a long way to go. (Fox mentioned in the U-T story that she wanted to build a new dorm. Fine, but it better be a big one.)

In the meantime, the Chancellor owes undergraduates more than monthly office time and new construction plans. "They're used to finding things extraordinary," she said in the U-T. She's right: students feel that they had to do something extraordinary to get to -- and stay at -- UCSD. If Fox wants to fulfill those students' expectations, she's got a lot of work to do.

Sweat box today, idiot box tomorrow (or in a few years)

2005-08-22T09:30:00.000-07:00

After so much blathering on about the difficulty and experimentalism of Xiu Xiu's music, I was relieved to find their visceral side twisting midsections and nodding heads in the Che Cafe Sunday night. I caught their late show with a small but enthusiastic crowd, though the sweaty box of the Che makes any gathering seem familial. (Some people you eat next to, some you work next to, and others you dance (writhe?) and sweat your burden next to. The last kind you don't know their names, mostly.)

One day kids got down to hip-shaking guitar or heavy-metal headbanging; I'm happy to see I'm young enough to be in the generation that can get down to noisy synth-beats (think distressed 80's pop) and improv gong and cymbal climaxes that wouldn't be out of place in an Edgar Varese composition. A short while ago these musical ideas were the razor-tip of the avant-garde, but the of whippersnappers my age and younger seemingly came out of the womb prepared for a performance delivered behind programmed pink boxes, of merely beat, grating noise and trembling voice (or any one of those). Their physical reaction to all the frequencies bouncing around the plywood walls of the Che was too passive and personal to be moshing, but too haywire and spastic to fit into what one might call "dance."

So is this all just too weird to have any sort of relevance outside of itself? No -- I don't think music works that way. Even the weirdest stuff eventually trickles down, in one form or another, into that big sea of musical ideas that turn hearts without raising eyebrows. The schitzo-style electronic beats now used in high-dollar hip-hop was a laptop-geek trademark only a few years ago. Once even punk music was radical.

And each generation's pop music seems to get more democratic, if at the same time more outwardly self-indulgent. Guitar ain't exactly hard (up to a certain point), neither is singing rock 'n' roll. Anyone with a record collection, a pair of turntables and a microphone could (theoretically) make hip-hop; accordingly, most hip-hop tracks are biographical, first-person streams of consciousness.

So let Xiu Xiu (and their fans) seem as weird as they may -- it's a solid bet I'll be laboriously explaining that viewpoint to my grandkids.

Ear Bleeding Indeed

2005-08-16T10:21:00.000-07:00

The first thing I noticed upon entering Soma's mainstage room last night were two vintage Marshall stacks, brown cloth on the cabinets and all, towering above everything else on stage. The second thing I noticed was that Drunk Horse, opening for 80's/90's cult grungers Dinosaur Jr., was not playing through them. Which seemed like a fantastic realization until I realized a third thing: I would have to listen to J. Mascis, Dino Jr. frontman and guitar-noodler mediocridaire, spew through those 100-watt behemoths for over an hour.

Hence my somewhat shell-shocked state this morning.

It sucks to live with your ears ringing this badly. I haven't wanted to hear music -- or anything -- since I left the show last night; the foremost aspect of my world is a high-pitched ring and lingering static that interferes with everything else: driving to work, talking, thinking.

Was it worth it? About a third of the reformed Dinosaur Jr.'s show was, no question. When the original trio banged through their muddy country-waddle with a full head of steam, straying from thrash-metal heaviness into swirling Hendrix-fuzz and back again, I longed for when young bands had so much honest sloppiness, my pre-teen-hood having arguably just missed those halcyon days. But then honcho Mascis decided every number should end with a three-plus minute noise-wank on the ol' guitar, which, through Soma's more-boom-than-bang sound system, sounded just a hair more intelligible than the remnants of his soft whine. And I felt like starting an awareness movement for poor drummer Murph, the hardest working dude in the group for sure, who kept the post-obscurity spare tire at bay (unlike the round Mascis) by pounding his Ludwig kit hard and fast enough to keep the two-chord noise assault mostly foot-tap-able even while Main Dude was in wanker-land. Though he would look up after 20 bars of guitar solo hoping, praying the frontman would shut the hell up, his sweat pleas went unanswered. Sorry man: nothing to do but bust another fill on the toms and throw those sticks out to the crowd when you wear them out (every other song, it seemed).

It was the irony of gray-long-hair and aged frenzy that kept me wondering about the value of my $25 through their whole set. Seeing Lou Barlow's bass rig (with more Marshall wattage), I realized how the early Dino singles attain such an overbearing presence with only three instruments -- educational (one point for). Mascis wasn't the most energetic frontman, seldom getting excited about anything but the next chance to solo -- also educational (one point against). Murph made me feel like my own struggles are petty compared to what he has to deal with: sweat! noise! Mascis' distortion pedal! (plus three points).

But ultimately, says this impoverished optimist, one must divorce financial constraints from the rock 'n' roll moment: otherwise your Monday nights will be cynical and burdened, which is not the goal. Sure, my ears are still ringing as I write this, but I got to see Dinosaur Jr. -- however old, forgotten, possibly washed up. The money/noise/enjoyment equation quandary will be forgotten soon; their blistering songs will not.

Swearing off expensive metal boxes

2005-08-11T11:30:00.000-07:00

After a mega-stressful spat of Craigslist fanaticism and long-distance calls to the parents up north, my roomates and I got a place for next year ... in Hillcrest. Which should be great, because there I plan to become a rather atypical San Diegan.

Ha! I know what you're thinking, but I don't mean that. While living in Hillcrest, I'm going to try, as hard as possible, NOT to use my car. There are a couple practical reasons for this -- the hopelessness of finding close parking not the least of them -- and financial reasons too, but mostly, I swear, my decision is purely out of intellectual curiosity.

(OK, it's not purely intellectual curiosity. Since growing up in the auto-dependent suburbs of the Bay Area, I've always looked at the urbanites with messenger bags who ride trolleys and subways and buses and especially bicycles everywhere as, well, lucky. As a student whose gas and car repair bills often determine whether it'll be ramen or Thai food for dinner, the metal box-independent lifestyle just seems better.)

In the middle of a walkable neighborhood, with a free shuttle to school in La Jolla, will I be able to pull it off?

We will see. While Hillcrest and the Banker's Hill/Downtown areas are doubtless the old-style neighborhoods traditionally well-served by a bus and bike, I fear my creeping SoCal mentality and love for air conditioning. I've begun to say "the" in front of the freeway number (as in " take the Five," instead of just "take Five"), a habit friends and relatives back home think deserves persistent mockery. I now wonder, when crawling out long, crowded boulevards to places like Pacific Beach and Point Loma, why there isn't a freeway to whisk me there. Road hurry -- sometimes rage -- isn't a momentary affliction; it has, I'm sorry to say, become a lifestyle.

All of which, along with soaring gas prices, convince me that we San Diegans (who live in the most pleasant climate of possibly anywhere in the lower 48) are far too dependent on our metal boxes -- a condition determined largely by the way we decide to build our neighborhoods. After two years in the University City suburbs, I'm going back -- to the city, to the bicycle, to (hopefully) the future. I hope it works!

Going to Town

2005-08-11T10:12:00.000-07:00

... is what we did with Voice's weekly arts listings, as you can see for yourself starting today. This week's "Going to Town" covers film, music and theater -- soon we'll branch out into art, dance, etc. -- and while they are by no means a complete list of every event in the city this week, we chose to spotlight a few because we thought you might enjoy them or because you might enjoy reading about them.More soon, eh?

So that's the end of the arts-coverage talk in this blog for a while. All of you who missed the usual half-cocked political sarcasm or tepid ruminations on weird details of SD life, chill back. They're coming.

Thank you, keep spilling (and reading)

2005-08-09T10:02:00.000-07:00

Much thanks to anyone who's weighed in on what kind of arts coverage they like (see below).

People in the news business often show a hesitation towards trusting their readers' minds about how their coverage should work, though they always claim humility.

Your answers show why, especially with arts coverage, the old and predictable we're-the-boss line will no longer work: readers' tastes are (apparently) more sophisticated than editors expect. I was heartened to hear that many of you are interested in reading about events -- especially in retrospect -- that you wouldn't necessarily think of attending. It shows a curiosity that cynical writers and editors often forget exists.

Most arts coverage, especially the kind done by local print publications (not specific to San Diego), is prospective: it lets you know what's going on this weekend. That's not going to go away, obviously -- it's useful.

But its also often not that interesting to read. My theory about arts coverage -- I thought about it a lot as Arts Editor of the UCSD Guardian last year -- is that people will read things that are interesting to them, whether its happened already or not, and whether they would go to it, if the writing grabs them. My proof is the rise of arts blogging in the mainstream media. Even if you disagree with someone's taste in everything, well-written, informative commentary is far more interesting to read than the often-juiceless stab at allegedly "unbiased" coverage.

Thus Question Five of the survey, for your commenting pleasure: Does that sound right to you?

What kind of arts coverage?

2005-08-05T00:16:00.000-07:00

A few of us over here at Voice are trying to improve the site's arts coverage. It's an interesting task, because there's so much arts coverage already out there and so many different angles from which to do it. But those of us on this side of the page are in kind of a strange position: we know what we like to read about and how we think it should be written. We don't know the same for our readers.

So, everyone who's reading this, I'm asking a simple favor: please take a minute and post a comment on this blog with a few words on your opinions about arts coverage. These questions can help:

1. Do you read arts coverage in a newspaper or online? Why or why not?

2. Do you read non-editorialized listings (just name, venue, contact info, etc.) of shows or other events? Do you find them useful or not?

3. When publications print "Editor's picks" or similarly recommend specific local events, does that carry any influence with you when deciding what to go to?

4. Are you only interested in reading about events before they happen? Do you think you would ever read reviews of events that you would not normally consider attending?

You found this blog, dear reader; you therefore have some interest in the quality of Voice's work. Thanks for responding.

Hip is a body part

2005-08-04T10:20:00.000-07:00

The first rule of hip is, if you use that word, you aren't.

On KPBS Wednesday morning, the uber-hip AnnaMaria Stevens, music writer for SignonSanDiego.com, protected herself from unhipness using what she calls "air-quotes": the two fingers you crinkle in the air when you want someone to know you understand all the embarrassing connotations of a word you just said out loud. Other words that require them include: "hipster," "scenester," "hipstream," and sometimes even "cool."

So why is "hip" an embarrassing word, even to someone who makes their living writing about it?

Because there are, like, way hipper descriptors out there. Try "bomb," "dope" (it's not always a drug), "mad [insert other adjective]" and "tight," which is well-worn but still current. Next to them stylin' scripts, "hip" just sounds so last millenium.

I know, I know: none of that really made any sense. But the way Stevens, "These Days" host Alison St John, fashion trendmaster Jason Campbell and "Hip: A history" author John Leland used the H-word Wednesday morning didn't really make any sense either. In their broadcast conversation about the true meaning of the word, each of them seemed to be discussing their own, private definition without clarifying it in truly unabmiguous terms.

Well, the Noisy Apprentice thinks he knows what this hip thing (not the body part) is really about (Not because I am hip -- although to say so would of course be unhip -- but nevermind qualifications, this is a blog.)

There are really two parts to the big question: The idea of hip, which is fairly easy to understand, and what is considered hip right now, which is basically impossible to nail down with any kind of consensus (especially on the pages of a mainstream publication.)

Hipness (the idea) is just a set of aesthetic and social values that reflect a group of young people's asessment of the world. Beat poets, Yippies, punk rockers, hip-hoppers, disco queens and any other categorizable concoction of media, fashion and food consumption patterns (or blogging habits) are just incarnations of hipness, which is fundamentally about an alternative outlook to the one forwarded by the people and institutions of the mainstream. Those values aren't the same for all youth of the same generation; they vary with factors like physical environment and economic status (sorry, I never thought Louis Vuitton was cool.)

The artifacts of hipness -- rap music, big sunglasses, skateboarding, slap bracelets -- are symbolic of whatever aesthetic (and maybe social) values are considered hip at the time, or are at least advertised as such. Now that even The Biggest Squares have used hipness as a powerful way to squeeze the green out of youth (I want my MTV!), and the Internet makes even the outer reaches of hipness attainable to any dolt, the whole idea is now permanently on the run. How can anything be hip when the Man finds out about it before even the cool kids do?

The predicament makes it even more revolutionary, more unattainable -- more hip. So like death, taxes and love, hipness will find a way. It may just have change names a few more times.

One out of one computer scientists agree: the recording industry is over

2005-08-02T17:49:00.000-07:00

It feels really good, especially after complaining so much about the mainstream mediocrity of most of this year's Street Scene lineup, to have my personal diagnosis of the record industry corroborated by a certified technical (if not legal) authority.

Last week I mentioned a Russian music website I learned about; today I'm milking the same conversation that brought that lovely nugget -- an interview with San Diego Supercomputer Center founder and tech-savvy music fan Sid Karin -- for a few words of wisdom on the future of the recording industry. (Most of my interview with him will be published as a regular Voice of San Diego story on Thursday.)

So what does Dr. Karin have to say that's so important?

It begins with a question:

"What is the need for a record company? I don’t understand what their function in a digital society is. They are going to go away. What [they] and the rest of the promotion industry do is create things like Britney Spears. And that will go away, with some rare exceptions. Spears isn’t going to make it without promotion. But record companies do nothing for people like [us]."

Of course, he quickly points out, this isn't going to happen right away. Or even very soon. His views are obviously just his own, and Karin is a computer expert, not a record industry guy. But that last sentence -- "record companies do nothing for people" -- rings truer than most people yet realize. Across the world, high-tech people like Sid and web-raised whippersnappers like myself are getting that the traditional way to choose and buy music (hear about it on radio or MTV, then buy it in a record store) is no longer the best way to do it.

In fact, if you live in San Diego, it's probably one of the worst. Aside from single-mold hotspots like Lou's records in Encinitas, M-Theory in South Park and Off the Record in North Park, finding a release that's even somewhat obscure -- especially if its not on a major label -- is unbelievably difficult. Music fans are forced onto the internet, which they quickly realize is more than just a worldwide shopping mall: recording industry, meet your replacement.

Record, promote and distribute music. That's the industry's job description, right? Well, all of those things can now be accomplished by an individual with a wireless laptop. If I ever got out of the office and got a band started, a once-vaunted "record deal" would be the last thing on my mind. Why bother when I could put music on a website and allow people to download it for whatever I want to charge them? For promotion, I could toss out flyers with the URL of the site at shows, or hand out burned CDs that listeners could rip onto their computer, then their iPod.

Record it yourself, promote it yourself, distribute it yourself. Not just computer scientists, but anyone vaguely aware of the possibilities of the internet should agree: the recording industry is obsolete. The real question is, how long until it realizes this?

Festival of the Parking Lot, Part II

2005-08-01T14:07:00.000-07:00

It was harder than it should have been to muster up enthusiasm for Day Two of Street Scene, perhaps because the parking lot venue revealed itself as truly, hopelessly unglamorous during another daylight observation.

The music should have been good enough to make us forget – and it was, with the help of a few of pop’s biggest acts. The most notable highlight of Saturday – and, I’d bet, the greatest single set of Street Scene ’05 – was a transcendent hour by the Flaming Lips, who brought multimedia imagination and full-color fantasy to the boring black stage on which others merely strummed. Frontman Wayne Coyne introduced his band of electro-rabble by hopping into his personal bubble – a large, inflatable globe about 10 feet in diameter – and crowd surfing future-style while the band, back onstage, introduced themselves with the help of a giant slideshow.

It was kind of like Halloween – especially with the dozens of costumed dancers onstage vibrating to the music – but mostly like a music video, where the sum of all color, motion and sound seemed too ridiculous to occur in physical reality. Coyne finally got himself out of the bubble and onstage, where he acted as if leading a cult. The dancers, most of them dressed as animals, waved flashlights and tossed beach balls non-stop. The crowd, in turn, gave all they could, expelling more vocal and physical energy during the Lips’ mind-blowing full-length cover of Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody” than all of Friday afternoon’s performers did combined. After strobe lights, a perfect sampling of the band’s originals, lots of sing-along-with-Wayne time, smoke flares, weird Japanese film clips and much Bush-bashing, we departed for other performances wondering what could possibly compare.

Nothing, as it turned out. Snoop and his full band dropped the requisite Gangsta-rap hits, showing for all who didn’t get it just how much hip-hop owes to classic funk and R&B. Strangely, after digging Snoop’s rare groove, rock titans the Pixies really didn’t do much for me. Black and crew snarled out their edgy, influential tunes with seemingly less enthusiasm than at their San Diego show last year. Even the Street Scene program joked about how the reunion tour the Pixies began last year never quite ended, making me feel a bit less guilty wondering, as I left Saturday, whether their stint hasn’t already served its purpose.

Unfortunately, I also left wondering that about this year’s Street Scene. Many of the big-name acts organizers very clearly favored didn’t live up to big-name expectations, with boring stage shows and little musical creativity. When the big names disappointed, nothing was there – especially not quality little guys -- to save the Festival of the Parking Lot from the shadows of everyday mediocrity sneaking in from surrounding condos and brightly lit big-box retailers. Long trolley rides, lines at every corner, cadres of drunks spilling profanity and vodka… I should have long forgotten about such inconveniences, but sadly, I haven’t.

Festival of the Parking Lot, Part I

2005-08-01T01:28:00.000-07:00

During the trolley ride to Street Scene at Qualcomm stadium Friday, I could not stop thinking of a New York Times article I recently read about the Tokyo subway, which apparently gives its employees long sticks with pads to leverage out the spaces in between passengers, squeezing them in together so that the doors can close. On the trolley I rode, those things really would have come in handy.

The twenty minutes of claustrophobia were relieved instantly upon realization of the sheer size of the Street Scene area, fitting, literally and symbolically, of the acts to perform therein. The first Street Scene After the Gaslamp -- "Festival of the Parking Lot" makes the locale sound more dismal than it was -- wasn't perfect by any means, but it deserves credit for basically succeeding at a lofty goal: to bring a dreamy candyland of top-notch pop music to one vast, blessed spat of San Diego pavement.

Let's be clear, I'm no Street Scene vet; thus, my verdict is based on the experience, not on a set of long-stewing memories. (Jazz-heads and roots fans, I sympathize. I'd have preferred hot locals Eek-A-Mouse to any of this year's 3rd tier-of-everything daytime bill.) The real number of transcendent moments I experienced were far outnumbered, admittedly, by sunburnt millenniums of foot-pain and claustrophobia, but such is to be expected at any event where 50,000 people all try to get along, with lots of good (and bad) music and all kinds of strange substances (downright weird cheese in the nachos) involved...

The thing with multi-stage, simultaneous-performance events like Street Scene is that, depending on where and when ones decides to go, the experience varies. Any moment you invest in one band's show is a moment you could be seeing someone else, so the choices are crucial. My highlights:

Garbage. The way lead vocalist Shirley Manson gleaned it through her way-cute Scottish accent, their name sounded more like "Gerbage," but the way her band sounded, if you were there, was awesome. It could have been that they were the first halfway decent act to perform Friday evening (unless you like Louis XIV, which I do not), but the euro-techno-sarcasmo-elders, winning with Manson’s slinky stage moves, wore away an afternoon’s imagined fears with three chords, plus synthesizers. Perhaps $85 was not too much money for this thing.

Flogging Molly. It seemed exceptional, during Flogging Molly’s set, to see an audience of decidedly hip, fashion-conscious young’ns throw down and dance their best jig when these Irish folk-punk rockers got their Guinness-guzzling hot-step to the stage. Vocalist Dave King said he was in a particularly good mood, and his fast-pounding boys and girls (including fiddle, accordion and mandolin) turned out whiskey-soaked ballads and brazen laments that were too good to ignore – even if you do sincerely claim hipness.

White Stripes. Unfortunately, none of the bands I saw Friday had anything on the White Stripes, who, in their years of continued worldwide success, have invested likely tons of money into the aesthetic details of their stage show. It was as if Jack and Meg only wanted you to see white, red and black as long as your eyes were on their stage; any odd color that could be changed was. Jack’s guitar cables were braided red and white like a barbershop pole. The windscreens on their microphones were a metallic red. Even the band’s stage crew, while carrying out the sweaty and often unglamorous business of setting up the instruments and gear, wore sharp pinstripe suits, with red kerchiefs in the breast pocket and nifty round-brim hats. They were the only band of my night to explore the concert experience to the full degree. Whether for want of money or imagination, Friday’s merely band-on-stage shows, even when drizzled in makeup and cheap style like Louis the XIV or Garbage, simply couldn’t match the elaborately-planned tone and continuous cute details of the ‘Stripes.

Their music was also light years beyond anything else I heard Friday. While dozens of lesser bands throughout the weekend stumbled onstage, played through their however-many songs just like on the album, saying “thank you” and “you’re awesome” in between, Jack and Meg treated their performance as an opportunity to show what mysterious lengths their songs could find past the next turnaround. Their blues-rock-punk-country stylings, modeled on the milestones of old, often hit their zeniths in direct covers: Dolly Parton’s “Jolene,” bringing out the trembling best of Jack White’s nervous ramble; Son House’s “Death Letter,” an early ‘Stripes highpoint, which Jack plays on an earthy ol’ Gibson acoustic/electric. House’s song evokes the pain of loss unadorned, brutally honest and grief-stricken. While White's guitar soloing rises to trying heights at times, his usually good choice of when (and not) to pull back the reins is part of what makes this stylish duo so fascinating. He slowly explodes House's dry sadness into long, encompassing waves of tortured slide-blues crackle, then races up the charts in a two-minute, one-chord, two-beat pop-rock ragtop like "Fell in Love With a Girl" or "Blue Orchid." Little drummer Meg just tries to keep up -- no question who's driving this hot rod.

In an age where much pop music (see the Killers, performing two stages down) relies on a careful blend of restyled old musical ideas and elaborate touches of (literal and digital) makeup, the ‘Stripes seem refreshingly honest in their blatant deception. This isn’t the ‘50’s or the ‘60’s – our color choices are instead exhaustingly varied – but he and his ex-wife play those decades' originals like someone must, plucking choice bits of fifty years of classic music, sure, but tossing them out on a joyously distressed, three-color postmodern platter. If nothing else, the 11 to 15 year-olds who didn’t depart when the Killers came on got a little history lesson – not just of the rootsy past of Street Scene, but of American music in general.

He's a Street Scene novice as well

2005-07-29T11:38:00.000-07:00

Today's U-T article about Street Scene made me feel like quite a young'n -- and more of a poser than a real music fan, considering this is the first year I'll actually be going. First it was vinyl I didn't understand, now the geezers have another "good old days" memory to hold over my head.

At any rate, I'll be giving a full roundup of how the first Street Scene of the Qualcomm era goes. Check here later (and Saturday too) for a full-color report.

Renting ain't easy (but it sure is fun)

2005-07-28T15:06:00.000-07:00

I begin every call with the same diplomatic sentence.

"Hi, I'm with a group of four students going into their last year at UCSD. We've been renting a three bedroom house for the last two years, but we'd like to move to a new neighborhood. We're interested in the house in _________ you listed for rent."

Then I wait for it: A grumble. A cough. An instantly discouraging pause. Followed by a brief and usually dismissive reply. (I've developed a classification system to help me laugh through the frustration.)

Fuzzy-wuzzy: "Oooh. Uhhh. Ummm. Ehhh. I'm ... uh, I'm not sure they're looking for that."

Decisive: "Sorry, we only want families ..."

Presidential: "No ... (click)."

It's getting so my body can't handle the instant rejection anymore -- my fingers just won't dial. I may soon consider desperate measures like a new major (engineering kids aren't famous for their parties) or getting a sex change.

All we want is a house. In a cool neighborhood. For a price we can afford. Which, on paper, shouldn't be hard to attain. Craigslist and housing classifieds sites are overflowing with relatively posh listings the four of us (with our folks) could easily manage.

If only we weren't students. Mention the "S" word on the phone with a landlord or -- worse --
a property management company, and about 90 percent of the time it's a shutdown, cold. I can't entirely blame them, having heard all sorts of stories -- from benign fence damage to the horror of flaming, airborne objects sailing into neighbors' yards in the dead of night -- but have, I swear, never allowed that kind of mayhem at my own place.

Such honorable claims, even backed by years of previous renting and the (supposed) prestige of our university, work to no avail on the minds of nervous landlords. Why should they? This is San Diego -- the landlord's phone will ring again in five minutes, and this time it will be a family. Their rent will be the same, but the treatment they receive won't.

A music site for the underfunded

2005-07-27T19:04:00.000-07:00

It was UCSD Computer Science and Engineering Professor Sid Karin who mentioned AllofMP3.com to me last week, which I forgot about until today. It turns out this Russian site is probably the coolest destination on the internet, aside from this blog.

Instead of charging per song like iTunes or the other mainstream outlets, these guys price by the bitrate: higher quality encoding costs more money. It sounds weird, but it works to the music fan's advantage: I've downloaded three albums already today, and none of them cost me more than $2. Individual songs run from about 9 cents to 15 cents, based on length and the quality you like (this Mac man goes for 192kbps AAC; many other formats are available).

Making music available -- legally -- at such bargain-basement prices more or less reinvents the entire music consumption process. Wagering 200 cents on 15 songs is an entirely different mental equation than the usual $15-for-an-unheard-album quagmire (What to buy: A burrito or the whole Prince catalog?) And those annoying pop albums we want but aren't won't admit to liking with legal tender are finally attainable.

Did I mention that they have a huge catalog, all of which you can listen to for free? If there's a catch, I haven't found it yet.

What a night

2005-07-27T04:12:00.000-07:00

When we first got to the second floor of the Westgate hotel about 7:30 p.m. tonight, there were, as Voice community relations man David Jay put it, "more reporters than humans in the room." Then the circus began arriving.

Actually, the real circus was already there -- one floor up in the Riviera room. The Francis gathering, with zero percent of precincts reporting, were a mannerly, ruddy-faced bunch. (With his own room, he, like Phil Thalheimer and the Save the Cross crew, also got his own bar.) The early numbers came out at about 8:15, and Francis said a few words about it being "very early," and his campaign being "a little behind, but that's what we expected." But it was hot in there with all those suits and smiles, so I went back downstairs to mingle with my ever-chatty colleagues in the news media, who still outnumbered ordinary life forms inside Election Central.

Sanders soon arrived, as always with more of a hushed swishing sound than a trumpet blurt or drum roll. "Ooooh," it slowly occurred in the consciousness of the crowd watchers spotting the freshest white collar on the 'trail from across the room, "that's Jerry Sanders."

His round outline was slightly hunched over toward his companion, deferential, shaking with two hands. Soon the cameras and questions were on him -- bringing a battlefield where Sanders moves confidently. The friendly yet unwavering look he gives to the cameras, coupled with his smooth 'n tasty (tough on a few) message, work wonders together. Sanders is nothing if not an extremely well qualified and equipped candidate, and virtually everything he does says that and lets you know that he's an alright guy, too. Beware, Donna and anyone who ever runs against Sanders: being an alright guy can get you ridiculously far in this world, and this one has the credentials (and may soon have more) to find out just how far.

Donna Frye's headquarters, at Downtown Johnny Brown's bar and grill, had by far the best beer selection of the evening, with Jerry Sanders' campaign headquarters coming in a close second. (The Westgate, as it turns out, thinks only Amstel Light, Corona and Heineken of its guests.) While the ties and stilletos down at EC attempted to maintain their alleged dignity, Frye's camp made no attempt to disguise what was basically a big party. Her supporters were out there demographic after underrepresented demographic: the most energetic seniors I've ever met, the least-decisive guitar players, and all the wide and weird hues of teachers, ex-marines, punk rockers and tree-huggers San Diego could dream up. Their contrast with the rest of the group was, well, sharp. Only the Frye women taped her bumper stickers to the outside of their purses.

I lost track of time for a while after leaving the Frye camp. I remember thinking that Steve Francis was going to make some sort of announcement (wait ... we were told that all night), and that seeming like a good reason to leave the Frye party. EC, I recall, was getting stuffy. The Rider camp apparently made quite an entrance by carrying their big campaign signs ("the taxpayers' mayor") in over their heads like battle colors, then planting themselves conspicuously inside the Big Room -- right near the screen that showed him getting about 1 percent of the vote.

The elevators were full, the crowd was getting a bit sauced, and the numbers weren't really going anywhere. As results came back at what felt like a grinding pace, the spreads shifted a bit but never much. Give or take a few percent here and there and they basically stayed the same the whole evening.

About half an hour before he declared himself the second place finisher, Jerry Sanders was milling casually around the rooms of his office in Hillcrest. The campaign's DJ was spinning hot old Who songs, and the TV station towers were stretched high into the muggy nighttime orange, but inside the candidate was joking with a few friends and advisors about his plans. "Oh, I'm going to make a speech at 11?" he asked while brushing past me in the hall. "Guess I better figure out what I'm going to say."

It didn't take him long. Ending Chapter One of the San Diego Special Mayoral Election and beginning Chapter Two, Sanders said to supporters he was confident when results were finalized he'd make second, and looked forward to November. He couldn't resist calling out a few early shots on Frye about union supplication, but said he backed her open government ideal.

With Sanders happily tucked in for the night, there was just one thing left to happen. Back at the Westgate, Steve Francis' once-bumpin' room had nearly emptied out. The steak and caviar were gone, as were most of his supporters. But the Big Spender hadn't yet made good on his promise to make an actual statement, so his crew summoned up the few troops left in the room to get up some energy for the cameras. Francis, looking a bit dazed, darted into the room surrounded by the usual entourage. After a moment of confusion, with supporters bunched up close behind him and cameras pressed up close in front, Francis finally conceded the race, saying he had called to congratulate Sanders.

Francis said he had no regrets about the money. Good for him. He also replied very vaguely (and with much we-all-know-what-this-means nervous laughter) to a question about another run for office. (Cunningham's seat is open, and wasn't Francis once a Nevada state legislator?)

Either way, the beginning ended tonight, hot and sticky. Chapter Two formally begins later this morning, when both remaining camps have scheduled press conferences.

Meanwhile, the Noisy Apprentice would like to thank all the mayoral candidates for trying, earnestly and (mostly) honorably, to add their own flavor to San Diego's salty political stew.

Talking back

2005-07-25T17:10:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow is Election Day in Scandal-iego. The word "pension" now gives me nausea. Which means it's time to round up the comments for this week.

For the record, no one posted anything that's both substantial and from the mouth/campaign of Steve Francis. Instead, "Mike Richardson" told the high-strung Apprentice to take a chill pill, dude:

Not so fast, there cowboy. I have a sneaking suspicion that a number of the people who have thought about voting for Donna will instead decide to go for nice guy Jerry Sanders (all the 40-60 year old libs who really want to vote for Donna but think it's more responsible to vote for the former Chief of Police). If Jerry doesn't make it to November, those folks will swing back to Donna rather than fall to Francis.

I hope you're right, Mike. Though today's (independent) numbers show second place is still under contention, even the pollsters are saying Francis will probably land third. Which means it probably will come down to Sanders and Frye in November.

Adds "Superhuman":
While Francis may be trying to buy the election, Frye has the labor money. Apparently, under SD's interesting campaign finance laws, independent groups can contribute money on a per-member basis (corporate money is prohibited). While the chamber of commerce can contribute for each of its members, labor unions that are part of the AFL-CIO can base their contributions on the national membership numbers, meaning that they can outspend almost any other independent group.

While picking candidates based on their ability to self-fund campaigns is probably not good for democracy, it seems the only way to fix the situation is to change the campaign finance restrictions that give labor such an advantage.

I can't vouch for the truthfulness of this information or analysis, but I thought it was an interesting aside in light of the recent cleavage within the AFL-CIO regarding what the appropriate focus of the organization should be.

I was once a member of the United Food and Commercial Workers union (for a summer I spent working in a supermarket), so I know how it feels to watch large portions of a paycheck disappear into the mailbox as "dues." A few weeks ago I watched members of SEIU (one of the unions that stepped out of AFL-CIO) protest their lack of healthcare benefits and relatively (compared statewide) low wages.

I was raised not to have sympathy for unions. My middle class upbringing taught me that teachers' unions were holding up the quality of my education, grocery unions were raising the cost of my tomatoes, and service workers just wanted to get more money for less work. I presume this is the view of most anti-union people out there (correct me if I'm wrong).

The public image of unions is thus the major barrier to their political success. The big idea of labor unions, that everyone who sells their labor is at risk for exploitation and should be protected (which is true as ever today), doesn't work when most of the people who are being exploited aren't in a union. People see the few union members as primadonnas -- lazy complainers who want to live on someone else's coin -- not because that's what they are, but because many honest, hardworking people out there are being subtly exploited by their employers and no one is doing anything about it.

If unions want relevance in their future, I think they need to make friends with the middle class.

FCC ends San Diego pirate radio station

2005-07-22T18:10:00.000-07:00

Pirate 96.9 knew what was coming, and according U-T, they got it today:

Federal agents armed with a search warrant shut down Free Radio 96.9 FM, the self-proclaimed oldest-running and most notorious unlicensed radio broadcaster in San Diego, in a midmorning raid yesterday.

The station is down now, but they could get it back up on the Internet soon. The few times I was able to receive it where I live, the playlist was impressively diverse. I never got to hear any of the political commentary.

With the internet, they should be able to do their thing legally and still be low-cost. Let's hope they chose to -- they're apparently making an announcement on their website by 9 pm tonight.

Teacher, teacher! He called me a stupid-head!

2005-07-20T17:28:00.000-07:00

Two radical sides of the immigration debate are vibrating against each other on our border this week, and according to the U-T, the resulting cacophony sounds a lot like a 3rd-grade schoolyard:

People who have been protesting the presence of the armed border watchers scouting for undocumented immigrants released a video yesterday that shows a man, who appears to be a border-watch participant, directing a string of expletives at some heckling protesters and threatening to shoot them.
The border watchers, meanwhile, have accused the protesters of everything from assault to throwing dirt at one man's dogs. Event organizer Jim Chase at least twice has called the Border Patrol to report that he fears being attacked by protesters.

Don't you remember how it goes? Mrs. Johnson (Border Patrol, etc.) walks over to the corner of the playground, arriving to a chorus of (from the protesters), "He started it!"

And from the border watchers: "No -- he started it!"

It looks bad for both sides, like all fanatic partisanship. Shouting cuss words and throwing dirt was never allowed on my playground, and adults in the real world ought to hold themselves to an (admittedly difficult) adult standard.

This country needs a big, new understanding of immigration, with some sensible policies to keep it safe and practical. Neither side of this squabble is helping us get that.

A poll, fine. But what does it mean?

2005-07-19T19:56:00.000-07:00

Do we trust a SurveyUSA/KGTV Channel 10 poll, released by the Steve Francis camp, that puts him ahead of Jerry Sanders with 27 percent of the vote?

Survey USA gives a defensive "yes":

Because SurveyUSA uses professional television news anchormen and anchorwomen to ask our poll questions, instead of headset operators, some of our competitors would like you to believe that SurveyUSAs election polls are inferior. There is no need for conjecture on this topic.

Um, I still need more reassurance. Because the race for second place on July 26 is an important one. It will be number two that will most likely go up against Frye in November; number two that will more or less by default earn the support of everyone not voting for her.

So if credible, this information is frightening. I expected Sanders to get elected (cynically fearing that my girl Frye won't make it) and had sort of grown resigned to it in advance. He's definitely not what we need, but he's not horrible either.

Francis is.

His terse, focus group-tuned message isn't resonating with people because it's informed, well-reasoned or substantive. Francis has decided to find out for himself whether or not it's possible to buy an election, and the citizens of San Diego are the guinea pigs he's experimenting on.

I thought it would hurt that he's surrounded by a slew of candidates of various persuasions who are actually qualified to lead this city (and I think it will), but perhaps it is possible to buy an election, likely one of the most important in this city's history.

So I issue a challenge to anyone who believes that Steve Francis should be mayor: post a comment on this blog giving one informed, substantive reason justifying your opinion. I just want to hear something good about Francis that isn't "he's an outsider" or "no taxes" -- something he would do that would fix things more quickly or with less pain.

I haven't heard anything like that in the debates or elsewhere. Right now I'm worried that Francis really knows nothing about government and will sink our city deeper into this muck, or maybe only swish it around a little. Convince me otherwise -- if these poll results are accurate, I'll be losing sleep until you do.

The Noisy Apprentice comes of age

2005-07-18T16:33:00.000-07:00

11:42 pm, 7.17.2005

Somewhere in the Gaslamp -- The bouncer struggled to read my driver's license in the neon glow. His finger tested its thickness with a flick while his eyes squinted in the red light.

"You're not 21," he said. "Come back tomorrow."

Behind him I could see inside the Star bar -- Budweiser flags, beer-babe posters, dirty wood floors, and a cadre of my buddies inside. "How long till then?" I asked him.

The bouncer reached for his cellphone. "Eighteen minutes," he answered.

I turned away with a smile, happy at accomplishing my last goal of underagedom: getting denied one last time.

I wanted to remember how it felt. After years of complaining about being excluded from music venues, nighttime hangouts and, of course, alcohol, the end of my isolation had to be rung in properly -- following a last sample of real bitterness.

Only, it wasn't. I wandered the streets of the Gaslamp alone, watching the barnight ruckus I would join within minutes. The jazz combo-sweetness from Croce's wafted out onto the street, mixing with the warm night air and wispy future fantasies in my head.

Those minutes passed quickly, and as they did I readjusted to what was basically a new reality. The dark rooms and bass booms of the Gaslamp were no longer forbidden, but open to exploration. The measly money I earn as a college newspaper editor would now stretch to include shows -- often, hopefully -- at previously-inaccessible spots like the Casbah and 4th & B.

It was a new world, and the bouncer ended up letting me in early.

"Ahh, one minute left," he grumbled when I came back. "But go ahead in, birthday boy."

The Noisy Apprentice will celebrate his 21st birthday July 18.

What can money buy?

2005-07-15T09:41:00.000-07:00

It will be fascinating to see what Steve Francis' money buys him come July 26. The $28,000 he spends per day will either be enough to buy an election, and Mr. On Message will get to write checks for another four months, or it won't, and the $1.8 million he's spent so far will be remembered only by the soon-to-be-faded "Francis for Mayor" signs flapping against chainlink fences all over this city.

Today's U-T article cited the failure of another big spender, Peter Q. Davis, whose $1.25 million bought him third place in the 2000 election.

I expect Francis' fate to be the same -- a prizeless finish. Neither his bank account nor that serious-guy grimace he wears in the debates will be enough to overcome the vivid reputations nearly all of his opponents have in this city.

Frye's footsoldiers will drown themselves in the ocean before they vote for anyone else, and her campaign knows it. Worry about money and ads all you want -- elections come down to votes, and those are what Frye's team is focusing on.

Francis' money makes those measly little $300-at-a-time contributions to the Sanders campaign look innocent, while they really tie him to some of the biggest interests in town. Mr. Likeable, Sanders also looks the part -- which may go far with the average voter.

Even Shea, whose sandpapery tagline ("I do structured finance") obstructs a razor-sharp wit and small war chest, shares a quality with Frye and Sanders that Francis still ought to worry over: familiarity -- not the I-saw-him-on-TV kind, but the I-know-this-person-cares-like-I-do kind.

At least, I want to believe that money-free relationships do make a difference in an election. That's the big problem with Francis' "I'm-my-own-special-interest" spending defense: the real special interests -- voters' interests -- may not matter as much.

The 'Duke' is done

2005-07-14T16:54:00.000-07:00

Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham announced today that he will not seek reelection in 2006.

The target of a grand jury investigation concerning his ties to defense contractor MZM, Cunningham said that he had "devoted his adult life to public service."

"I will not ignore the damage to my standing in the community that has followed from these false charges and the daily repetition of those charges from the press," he said.

False charges, eh?

'Duke' will speak ... on something

2005-07-14T14:10:00.000-07:00

As the gears of the grand jury investigation into Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham turn ominously -- recently calling four blokes who might know a thing or two about the man's boat accommodations in Washington out to San Diego for a chat -- the Duke, it appears, has decided to say something on his own.

Well how about that. Cunningham is expected to give a press conference (topic unspecified) at Cal State San Marcos today at 3 pm.

But with all this honesty and forthrightness setting the tone in California politics, will the Duke allow himself to be humbled in front of his constituents?

Why privatization is a waste of time

2005-07-13T20:45:00.000-07:00

Privatization is a happy topic for most of the Republican mayoral candidates. Steve Francis and Jerry Sanders are the "put it up for bid" duo with regard to city services, and even the bankruptcy-minded Pat Shea has said he thinks privatizing some services -- not core items, but sewers, for example -- might be something to look at.

These candidates are mistaken. Efficiency in public service is a noble cause and a distant goal, but privatization will get us further from it, not closer.

I will give what I believe to be a rock-solid argument against privatization -- not its real-world effects (those speak for themselves), but the basic logic that drives them.

Without privatization, taxpayers' money goes to the government along with a set of expectations about the services they will receive in return. These expectations apply to the government and the government only, because it gets the money.

This sounds kind of like a business -- money for service. But here's the difference: these services (most of them) are provided because we need them, not because they are economically efficient. Critics of public services cringe when they think about the fact that for government, the service comes before the cost in importance (notice I didn't say "first.") But this is exactly why government is not a business: some services that are necessary are not cost efficient.

With government providing these services, the flow of money and responsibility is easy to follow: Two parties, the taxpayers and the government, are involved.

Privatization -- outsourcing government services to private parties -- complicates things.

Now, businesses outsource things to third parties all the time. It works great because the whole package has to be economically efficient for everyone, and as soon as it's not, things change pretty fast. Responsibility is invoked almost automatically.

Government isn't in the sewer or policing business for the profit. It pays cops and fixes sewers because most of us like to have them.

But providing the service, in the eyes of the corporation, is just a way to make a profit. It will accordingly find a way to maximize that profit.

The original goal of the taxpayers -- getting a service -- is thus derailed through privatization. The organization actually responsible for providing that service is now removed, by the hulking mass of government bureaucracy, from the people paying for it. And the main goal of those performing the service is not to get the service done satisfactorily, but to get it done for a profit.

When our services fail we will ask the government what happened and it will say, "sorry, we don't know. We don't do the service. We're trying to call the people who actually do it, but they have a big phone tree ... so hang on."

The government's job will be that of a smart shopper -- a role it already performs terribly.

The private corporation will be guaranteed their money when they sign a contract, free and inclined to "maximize profits" -- by minimizing services -- for the duration of the purchase.

Helpless, we taxpayers will complain to the government -- which won't work any faster or better than it does now.

Mayoral candidates quip the issues

2005-07-12T18:27:00.000-07:00

Hypothetically, it was a mayoral "debate" or "forum" organized by the Building Owners and Managers Association that got candidates Donna Frye, Jerry Sanders, Steve Francis and Pat Shea sharing a white tablecloth at the La Jolla Marriott this afternoon. They should have called it a "mayoral chat."

Not that it wasn't somewhat informative. Sandy-faced newcomers might have been fascinated to learn that Pat Shea is for bankruptcy, Donna Frye is for quality of life, Jerry Sanders was the chief of police and Steve Francis is a businessman.

But it was what everyone knew already -- which seemed to be just about everything the candidates had to say -- that turned the event into a contest to see which campaign had the best one-liner.

The most interesting questions in this regard were answered more by the roomful of suits and the shiny banner of corporate sponsors on the wall than the candidates' personal plans.

Sanders, as crisp as the creases in his slacks, nailed a rather long series of "Would you raise this tax" questions with a simple answer (and a knowing smile).

"No."

Which made other candidates' responses -- though all in the negative -- look either ponderous or purloined.

Responding to the same tax inquiries (this time one about repealing "the people's ordinance" that makes trash pickup free), Shea unintentionally made the moderator's easy questions look, well, easy.

"How do you repeal the people's ordinance? That's like saying you're going to repeal the apple pie ordinance," the candidate asked to audience laughter.

Even Councilwoman Donna Frye, who qualifies as "notorious" among this crowd, easily sang the tune o' the day, emphasizing her interest in protecting industrial lands and calling herself "a friend of business."

Some contrast did come out on a few issues. Sanders lauded the Centre City Development Corp., calling it a "golden goose" that shouldn't be drained of money since it was doing such a good job. Frye responded with some hard-sounding information about money she says CCDC agreed to pay to the city, but hasn't.

Even Shea, whose conservative positions on issues like redevelopment and outsourcing of city services were overshadowed by his emphasis on the need for bankruptcy, had some criticism for the downtown redevelopment efforts. Comparing San Diego with major cities like Chicago and New York, the former Convention Center board member said downtown planners still needed "to capture life at the street level" the way those cities did.

But it wasn't watching the candidates' differences on issues that kept the luncheon crowd awake -- it was keeping track of all their similarities.

Francis, earning chuckles with relentless, orchestrated plugging of his campaign website, seemed to give Sanders' answers two questions ahead of time... Or was it the other way around?

"That's on my website," Sanders reminded the audience during one of Francis' answers -- a complaint they traded often.

Only the legality of the oft-disputed pension benefits brought the pair into clear disagreement. Francis (out of desire or knowledge?) is sure they're illegal. Sanders wouldn't call it.

"No one at this table knows," he said.

Shea, the only attorney at the table, was raising his hand. With rock-hard surety, he said the city charter makes any spending that isn't covered by revenue illegal.

The moderator made very clear what he thought of Shea's plan to take the city through municipal restructuring.

"You're for bankruptcy, right? I'm moving away."

But it was Francis who dealt Shea's quiet assurance and specific plan its heaviest blow, winning the one-liner contest.

"Why can't one of us get elected and just hire you?"

Talking back

2005-07-11T09:56:00.000-07:00

Sure, your mother warned you against it.

But here at Voice of San Diego, we think its good. We started this blog project with the idea that it could be a meeting point for staff and our readers, a sort of gray area where the stoic wall of separation between professional media and the community could come down for the sake of interesting discussion.

So this is the first post in a whenever-it-needs-doing series that'll round up reader comments and offer a reply. (I reserve the right to edit your comments when re-posting them and respond -- or not -- to parts thereof.)

This blog could turn into a big message board. At least it will be one worth reading.

First up:

grampa said...
Here is a posting I put on the U-T's "InsightInteractive" blog and offer it here in response to Michael Grant's article on "Reading Media." And by the way, is this blog just for children under the age of 35, or can us senile old geezers participate?

News organizations are in business. Business is about making money, and if that involves providing an actual public service, they'll do that too. In delivering news, the greater the audience, the greater the income, but getting a greater audience requires including a bigger chunk of the "bell curve." You do this, of course, by dumbing down the "content." Separating the wheat from the chaff is and ongoing challenge for anyone looking for significant news rather than entertainment and voyeuristic obsessions.

Of course, this blog is for everyone. I chose to emphasize my relative experience to help differentiate it from the kind of establishment blogs authored by veteran newspaper staffers on specific topics in other words, the kind that usually get updated every month or so.

As far as "dumbing down" goes, I share Mr. Grant's concerns about the ethical feasability of so-called "citizen journalism," especially considering how blurry the reporting/opinion line has become. To understand why newspapers would consider this, Grampa, turn on the TV: In today's world, the media organizations that blur that line the most (Fox News, etc.) are the ones winning viewers, while traditional outlets like metro newspapers are floundering in their readership and have been for some time. Nearly everyone in journalism OK, everyone in print journalism is more or less freaking out about this, frantically searching for the plug that'll fill the holes in their sinking ship.

Many people think those holes are blog-shaped. And so the world of mass media is currently re-tooling itself to harness the popularity of the half-cocked, personal spiel -- with mixed results. Perspective and personality can interfere with the reporting of facts, but it can also make them more palatable to attention-stingy readers. Bloggers are front-line infantry in the partisan battles of today, not only giving information but dropping it right into context. And many newspapers have staff blogs. The Los Angeles Times just redesigned its Sunday opinion/analysis section to reflect blogging-era interests in the personalities behind the writing, earning criticism from the "dumbing down" camp.

The best argument against such changes that readers don't care about perspective and just want undiluted information doesn't appear to ring true in today's Fox News-worn world. I'm more worried about what happens if blogs or personal journalism replace, rather than supplement, traditional media as television news has for some viewers. There are too many pundits out there trimming and pasting new facts into a firmly-cemented worldview already.

Support your local bike commuter

2005-07-08T16:51:00.000-07:00

Props to the SDU-T's Richard Louv for a fantastic column on the best transportation solution mankind has engineered so far -- what he calls "the learning machine."

Unfortunately, very little learning has gone on in San Diego regarding the usefulness of the bicycle as a commuting vehicle. Despite that San Diego is a potential bike-commuter paradise, with relatively comfortable geography (mesas aren't mountains) and perfect weather, the city's current street designs discourage, rather than encourage, this healthy option.

Which is silly. With L.A. and Orange County just to the north, San Diegans can see up close the world's best reasons NOT to resign themselves to the pricey, gridlocked future of car-dependence.

What's the alternative? Encourage biking as a safe form of transportation by physically separating cyclists from motor vehicle traffic wherever possible. Pedaling to the store on a sunny day is lovely until Death, in the form of city bus, roars by at 50 mph, eighteen inches from your handlebars. To encourage bike commuting and cut down on road traffic and air pollution, we should:

- Build more bike paths along popular transportation corridors. The Pacific Beach/Rose Canyon path currently allows a quick and easy jaunt from the UTC/ University City area to Pacific Beach. Nearly flat, completely removed from any motor vehicle traffic and following well-worn traffic patterns, paths like this are the best way to encourage bike use.

- Isolate bike lanes from motor vehicle traffic along key arteries. Where a completely separate bike path isn't feasible, turn existing bike lanes into bike paths by physically isolating them from the road. Bike lanes are now only theoretical -- cars use them to park, turn, and pull over, creating a heart-stopping hazard for the cyclist. (Threading through city streets with three lanes of 50 mph traffic on one side and a line of car doors that could open at any time on the other is terrifying. So are buses that stop right in the bike lane -- especially when riding downhill at high speed.) To keep costs as low as possible, only a few streets around the city would have to be changed.

Combine a few new bike paths with a few isolated bike lanes to make a safe, reasonable set of bike routes around the city, and San Diego would realize its potential as a bike commuter's paradise.

Didn't your mother ever call you special?

2005-07-07T14:37:00.000-07:00

Q. What do an electrician, a retired accountant, a peanut farmer and a CEO have in common?

A. They're all special. Special interests. (Other than that, probably nothing.)

Only such a lame riddle could capture the brain-farting currently passing as political rhetoric, where "special interests" -- that means you -- are decried by hotmouths from around the spectrum for crippling all levels of government.

The term used to be a favorite weapon in the battle against labor unions. It's now wearing thin from overuse and public skepticism (due in no small part to Governor Schwarzenegger's relentless use of it to taint his political adversaries), but just as it does, others seem to be picking it up. I heard Donna Frye use it yesterday on the campaign trail referring to the headache-makers at City Hall.

Useful as it appears to be, the phrase has to go. When only one side was using it, we voters could get the jist. Now we're just confused -- and voter confusion isn't good for the people who create it.

Seal activists: A terrorist threat?

2005-07-07T10:36:00.000-07:00

We've come to expect a little zeal from both sides of the La Jolla Children's pool debate. But this is fanaticism:

Now that London has been attacked by terrorists, it is time to reevaluate
security in our own country and identify other potential terrorist threats in
our communities. The Save Our Seals Coalition which has been chasing and
intimidating people off the public beach at the children's Pool in La Jolla is a
potential terrorist threat. Just last night the police were called to the
children Pool because the seal activists were pushing people off the beach by
getting in front of them with signs stating political corruption and false
statements that humans interfere with harbor seal behavior. This is just another
incident of attempted intimidation on the public not to use a public beach the
seal activists want closed for seals. A group called San Diego Citizens For Wild
Pinnipeds(SDCFWP) takes note of an incident at the children's Pool on July 4. A
young harbor seal hauled out on a stretch of open beach near the seawall at the
children Pool. Instead of going away from people, the harbor seal settled at a
point within two feet of two beachgoers who had previously been sitting in the
same position for an hour. It is evident the harbor seals are becoming too
domesticated and to preserve their status as wild animals, they should not be
encouraged to haul out on a public beach where there is too much contact with
humans.

Casa Beach Seals Group

Reality check: The activists were "pushing people off the beach by getting in front of them with signs?" I wasn't there, but holding up a sign and asking people not to step over a line in the sand is not pushing them off the whole beach. And telling people that their politicians are corrupt (when they are -- scroll down) or that their beach activities interfere with the seals (which they do) is not terrorist activity; it's actually the same of kind thing we do over here in the Third Estate.

Then the statement claims "it is evident the harbor seals are becoming too domesticated," which doesn't help its argument. If anyone can be blamed for the seals feeling comfortable around humans, its those who advocated the dividing-line removed in the first place. And the fact that natural barriers between people and animals are crossed regularly at Casa Beach seems like an argument for leaving the animals alone, rather than trying to re-train every seal on the West Coast not to hang out there. The animals aren't going to complain about human presence (or be "encouraged" into anything), and people -- most of them anyway -- learn faster.

Dems take aim at 'Duke'

2005-07-07T03:17:00.000-07:00

San Diego Democratic Party Political Director Del Stewart and local party activists are planning to unveil a newspaper ad campaign today, backed by the Democratic Congressional Committee and the Democratic National Committee, that calls Representative Randy "Duke" Cunningham "ethically challenged." From the Democrats' press release:

Cunningham was elected by California families to represent their values in
Washington, but instead has wrongly adopted the values of engaging in unethical
behavior and doing the bidding of the special interests, at the expense of
middle class families.

Sure, he's faced a near-constant flow of bad news on the ol' Congressional corruption front for the last couple of weeks, but after all that hardship with lawyers and courts and such, why shouldn't he still get a pair of standing ovations from America's most respectable?

Because he didn't explain anything.

'Duke' to tower: "Mayday!"

2005-07-06T17:28:00.000-07:00

The ongoing tailspin that is the Randy “Duke” Cunningham scandal gained speed with the U-T’s report that our maverick in Washington made a cool $400K from the sale of his boat.

Who’d he sell it to?

Just some businessman who needed advice on how to get a pardon from the President – and whose relatives happened to own the mortgage company that helped Duke buy his Rancho Santa Fe palace.

Whether Cunningham actually did any wrong is, of course, still under investigation. (He has denied any wrongdoing.) But golly – with three weeks until our mayoral election, doesn’t this story just make you want to go out and vote?

A Blog o' the Town

2005-07-05T23:55:00.000-07:00

San Diego is teeming with the new: Thousands of young people in the colleges, universities, and the military. World-changing advances from a future-centric high-tech industry. A downtown being recycled so fast one must constantly watch for drying paint -- I mean stucco.

But read the headlines, or watch the news, and it seems all you hear about are problems.

The State of the City seems to have most candidates wide-eyed, trumpeting a worst-case diagnosis, then retreating, usually in the same sentence, to complimentary reverence for "America’s Finest City." Many seem as confused about how to feel as we do.

And if affairs at City Hall aren’t turbulent enough, the canyon-like road surfaces in this town sure are – even right outside the glitzy, high-rise condos going up faster than Ramona sagebrush in October. (I can hear the winning campaign slogan now: "Free trash pickup at every driveway! New suspension for every motorist!")

Since it’s hard to cram the irony of life in this city into one medium, Voice of San Diego has taken the rather bold step of assigning me, an intern, the task of blogging about it. Here you will find not only commentary on local (physically) blogs, but also original stories about San Diego published nowhere else – with facts and parlance as current as their medium.

Lots of newspapers and media sites out there offer blogs by their writers. Most of them are quite pointed, with commentary by a staffer highly skilled in a single field.

Meet the opposite: a bona-fide whippersnapper blogging the corners of city life; anchored by journalistic integrity but given the freedom of a new form. In the cloudy sea of reporting and commentary ahead, only this is certain: reader input is crucial.

Your interests and concerns are my noise – so send them to me at Ian.Port@voiceofsandiego.org.