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AJC.com > Metro > View from the cop > Archives > 2008 > November > 19 > Entry
View from the Cop
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
San Diego is a cool place if you’ve never been. There is plenty to do and even in November, the weather is really good; 80’s and a lot of sunshine.
But during a recent visit there for a conference I noticed another side to the city. San Diego has some of the world’s worst drivers—yes, even compared to us.
I was stationed in San Diego when I got out of the Navy a few years back — well, a lot of years — when the Rolling Stones were on only their fourth farewell tour and before Joan Rivers looked Asian.
I have fond memories of San Diego, especially when I lived in Ocean Beach, or O.B. We had an old apartment, furnished with the latest fashionable cinder blocks and the obligatory ceramic Buddha that sat in the corner of the living room. It was yellow which perfectly complemented the orange shag carpet.
There were three of us living there. We shared one car, a 1960 Ford Falcon, orange in color, jacked up in the back with chrome-reverse wheels and a see-through floorboard on the driver’s side. It was a four speed—the shifter knob had long since fallen off and for some reason never replaced. Most of the time it started but just in case, we always parked it on a hill when we could. We called it “The Orange Flame.”
Living at the beach meant I was obligated to learn to surf. I never did. I could momentarily stand up on the board but could never master the cool look of running into the water with my surfboard.
The local surfers had way too much cool blond hair and therefore looked flawless running into surf, throwing the board out in front, leaping onto the board, and then paddling away. When I ran, my hair stood straight up and stayed that way. I looked like a rooster.
The first time I tried the cool run to the water, I ran too fast, fell over front ways, dug the tip of the surfboard into the sand which catapulted me another 10 feet or so face-down into the kelp. I got up like I meant to do it—you know, ha-ha and all, ran out into the surf where I threw the board down into the water, jumped on it, slid off, and met Mr. Jellyfish.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure, you know this hurts—hurts bad. One remedy for Jellyfish stings is to cover the welts with ammonia. As bad as I hurt I was a bit timid of asking someone to pee on my leg.
I had forgotten how much fun we used to have there. The civilians hated us, we had no money, and spent way too much time on unproductive things such as the time we stayed way too late in an Ocean Beach bar and then, for some reason, thought it was a good idea to drive south and invade Mexico.
Fortunately, the Tijuana cops were nice enough to return us to the border after a generous donation to their “Policeman’s Ball” by way of all the money we had left in our pockets.
If you go to San Diego, and then onto Ocean Beach, stop at HoDads, a bar and grill on Newport Street. They have the world’s largest tuna fish sandwich and you can sit facing the open window, right next to the sidewalk. (They call it O.B. T.V.) If you like the Parade of Weirdness, this is your place.
It was nice to visit but between worrying about everything burning up or falling into the earth on the next big earthquake, I might be better off here with just the pollen, coyotes, and ice storms to contend with.
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Comments
By BJ
November 19, 2008 12:08 PM | Link to this
Thank goodness you are back; some of the bloggers were in serious withdrawal and getting really catty with one another. :)
By copdawg
November 19, 2008 1:39 PM | Link to this
hodads huh, as a former dekalb cop who is now in san diego on extended stay will have to check it out, should i wear my vest and pack to go there? yeah the weather is great, 80 today and not a cloud in the sky, have just arrived back from a wonderful two miles walk on the beach. wish you were here!!!!!
By JOYCE
November 19, 2008 2:18 PM | Link to this
I lived in Santa Ana for many years back in the 60’s. You made me homesick for good ole California. Unfortunately I miss the youth that went with that time frame; older now so just satisfied with Georgia. Enjoyed your column as always.
By John Tackett
November 19, 2008 2:46 PM | Link to this
Steve, Remember Sluggos hot dogs?? Best dogs on the beach. Also, I am sure you attended one or two Over the Line (OTL) tournaments. Lived in Oceanside and used to surf in Carlbad by the powerhouse. Thanks for the memories!!
By Cubby
November 19, 2008 3:07 PM | Link to this
Stationed in between L.A. and San Diego in the 90’s we took many a ride to Tijuana. There is nothing like the bacon dogs at 5 a.m. after a night of upside down margaritas.
It is amazing we made it out with our money and our lives but that’s what Marines do.
By Tim
November 19, 2008 5:58 PM | Link to this
Hillarious. I kept looking for a comment on the guy who split himself in half on GA400 going 130 in a Hyundai. I didn’t think they could go that fast. Can’t wait to visit San Diego again and try Hodads. Joan Rivers looking Asian… too funny. Glad you made it out of Tijuana alive.
By me
November 19, 2008 7:10 PM | Link to this
hyundai is alot better car than the junks GM, Chrysler and Ford puts out…..
and don’t forget which companies are financially better off in the auto industry……
kill the big 3, overpaid lazy workers with overpaid stupid execs…..
By ganavyvet
November 19, 2008 7:55 PM | Link to this
I served aboard USS Dubuque LPD-8 based in San Diego 1970-72. Prior was USS Princeton LPH-5 in Long Beach. I had a 1 br furnished apt. in National City for a mere $150. Do you remember the Kings Club downtown (by the little park where all the TVs hung around)? Do you remember Cal Worthington and the miracle mile in Chula Vista? And BTW Shellback or Pollywog. A Happy belated Veterans Day.
Steve/Alpharetta
By amanda
November 19, 2008 9:04 PM | Link to this
You are the funniest person I have never met:) Just HYSTERICAL!!! I love your column!!!!!
By noslackdue
November 19, 2008 9:16 PM | Link to this
How dare you rag the Stones’ Farewell Tour IV? I’ve been to every single one of them, and IV was by far the most awesome of all! … with maybe the exception of XI.
By Lt. Steve
November 19, 2008 9:49 PM | Link to this
Ah! ganavyvet-We must have been close. I was on the Everett F. Larson (DD-830) in Long Beach then the Mo-Boat U.S.S. Montecello (LSD-35—no jokes!, 32nd Street, San Diego, then Balboa Hospital. I lived in National City before i went south to Chula Vista. I forgot my address in NC and couldn’t find it. Broadway and all the clip joints right? I bought my mom a broch-broach? Whatever-spent 150 bucks and only made about 300 a month. Went on the WestPac on the DD and then on the MO-Boat. Subic? (Say no more….)
By Cindy
November 19, 2008 10:07 PM | Link to this
Glad you’re back. I still have a scar on my left arm from meeting some jellyfish in Pensacola. Nobody peed on me either, but I was told to make a paste with water and baking soda…ya know that orange box of stuff used to keep the fridge smelling nice…after I was covered from ankles to shoulders, it still hurt like hell. I cried. Also, it made the areas where I was stung…and there were ALOT of areas, have stuff that looked like brown freckles mixed with red, painful welts.
It was traumatic but I lived. I offer as proof the fact that I’m here posting my mindless ramblings on your blog.
:) Welcome home.
By Lt. Steve
November 19, 2008 10:11 PM | Link to this
Shellback sometime in 72 by the way. Crawled through the garbage chutes and was whipped by the fire hoses. Got my card though. Member of the Tonkin Gulf Yacht Club. Went back to Haiphong in 73 to clear the mines. I think we gave the VC the wrong maps becuase we heard the occasional explosion at night. My NC apt was fully furnished too. I moved to OB when I was at the hospital before i got out. Good Times!
By Lt. Steve
November 19, 2008 11:00 PM | Link to this
Thanks Cindy-as always.
By Laughingly Similar 2U
November 20, 2008 6:54 AM | Link to this
Interesting piece. I give it Four Cools. Gracie Slick agrees with you about aging rockers. But that was ten years ago.
You’re voice is different in this one. You’re supposed to be a wise, weathered, yet still compassionate peace officer who exposes the criminal genius that lives in all of us. When you opened with San Diego traffic, I rejoiced at the prospect of a fish-out-of-water cop, observing traffic offenses peculiar only to California, (like gay lane changes, liberal use of horns, there’s a million of them), but instead, I stayed with your narrative, giving you the benefit of the doubt which grew alarmingly when you played the comfortable cards you keep in your writer’s sleeve, but which you cant resist wiping your knows on…(sorry)
Urine is sterile. Everyone knows it now, because of the material we all got when Barbara Walters interviewed the President of India in the 1978, man, about Urine Therapy. (Millions of people around the world drink their own urine for health benefits. I personally went on an all grapefruit diet once, and although I lost alot of weight, every time I pee’d, I’d squirt myself in the eye, (Joan Rivers 1979) which totally cleared up my glaucoma, man. )Urine is sterile. No ammonia. When the premise of a joke is wrong, the stench is messianic, and other comedians will crucify you. Also, the printed word is different than the spoken word. Your piece might work if you spoke it on stage. Try stand up comedy. I’ll go with you. I know of open mic stages where you can hone your act, and then it’s the Punchline 4U, sir. The voice on stage truly is your own, even if you hack every joke. Nobody talks like you do. It’s yours.
Also, your last chance to win in this piece came with the road trip to Mexico, and you even mentioned Hispanic Cops! Oh the material!!! But no, you played the long extinct Policeman’s Ball and were done with it. Road trips are gold. you almost cant miss. People love a car-trip narrative. It usually writes itself. Peeing out the window at 60mph….. Almost getting stopped by cops, but throwing all the beer bottles out the rear window, along with a anatomically perfect baby doll and getting clean away…. naked Chicks in other cars, condoms in the gas station restrooms, then the same naked chicks using an anatomically perfect rubber chicken to grift you and get away with your wallet, oh man, it’s easy.
Your new voice is what concerns me. I think the wise compassionate yet judgemental cop is your voice. You tried something new structurally today, and that’s fine, but never forget this: Subject Matter determines Tone. Tone determines Structure.
You used sophisticated structure, and it was nice structure, but there was no tone that matched it. You let someone else’s voice get in your head. Dont.
Four Cools = C minus
By Larry Livingston
November 20, 2008 8:36 AM | Link to this
Steve Ah San Diego…..wpuld like to bundle those sunny days as we approach winter. Ever get to Solana Beach…tracked down Atlanta Rhythm Section there one night in the 70’s…and the nude beach near Torrey Pines. To change the subject, Saturday night is MSBL banquet @ Crowne Plaza—you and the Mrs. are invited to attend as my special guests (this marks 20 years of MSBL baseball in Atlanta), and since you were a big part of our legacy, we’d love to have you attend. Just respond to lklbaseball@hotmail.com and let me know…and just signify the nationality of the babes we met in Phoenix at the World Series tournament just so I’ll know it’s you responding instead of some of the crazies that blog you! Keep protecting us from the loonies out there.
By gadyke
November 20, 2008 9:24 AM | Link to this
Laughingly Similar 2U: I think I can safely say that almost no one here (with the exception of yourself) wants to read your rambling dissection of Lt. Steve’s humorous posts. Many of us look forward to his blogs as a great escape from our daily boredom.
Lt. Steve: Hilarious as usual…the wife and I will have to check out HoDads if we ever get out that way.
By Laughingly Similar 2U
November 20, 2008 3:22 PM | Link to this
Well, I never!
By The truth about cops
November 21, 2008 2:37 AM | Link to this
Stay vigilant, kiddies- it’s getting to be that time of month…
You guessed it- time for the lazier cops to catch up their ticket-writing quotas before the month is over!
Time for “protect and serve” to take a back seat to “entrap and solicit”.
A Rolling Stones are old joke? A Joan Rivers plastic surgery joke? When WILL the hilarity CEASE?
I can’t wait until next week, when you debut the utterly original chicken-crossed-the-road bit.
By Gary
November 21, 2008 4:41 AM | Link to this
The Rolling Stones have NEVER billed one of their tours as a “farewell tour”.
By Dixie
November 21, 2008 6:49 AM | Link to this
AAHH - Lt.Steve’s column. Home to some who will never lighten up, some who might lighten up and those of us who have lightened up.
I enjoyed this column. My apt. was on the beach near Boca Raton. Unfortunately the only place I can remember frequenting was Margaritaville. I mixed cocktails 3 nights a week so I could drink them the other 4. Also gave out glow in the dark condoms to the customers who tipped well. We had a semi-perminent stand across the street that served the best dogs. Almost as good as Nathan’s in NY. Another place that make wicked Philly Cheese-steaks except they glazed thier onions with a hint of brown sugar and once in a while they’d get too much on them.
Can’t remember the name of the place where I was a bartender but the walls were hinged at the top and they’d swing up and out to create canopies. The whole backside of the bar was open to the ocean. I loved working there because the bar was elevated. Anytime I wanted I could look over the heads and see the beach.
People on vacation do more stupid things after a few drinks. The whole “Nobody knows me here” and “I’ll never see them again” attitude was awesome.
Lt. Steve - You were missed. It sounds like all was well. Thank you for coming back with a pick-me-up rather than a solemn column.
By Laughingly Similar 2U
November 21, 2008 1:28 PM | Link to this
The Beach Boys couldn’t surf, yet they were cool. Well, their drummer, Dennis could surf, but his big problem was that he couldn’t swim (not drunk anyway).
Ditto Natalie Wood.
By Stone
November 21, 2008 8:41 PM | Link to this
…the only wood that doesn’t float.
By Tony
November 22, 2008 3:47 AM | Link to this
Watch out truth, we might get you. Lazier should apply to you since you probably don’t have a job and live at home with mommy.
By Laughingly Similar 2U
November 22, 2008 7:18 AM | Link to this
Twas a shame ‘bout Wood, and Wilson. Now GM underwater. Drowning is a horrible way to go. The baby boomers, and the corporations that leeched off them, are dropping off like flies. Do you think it’s the sex, the drugs, or OPEC that keeps killing them?
One acquaintance of mine died last saturday afteroon of asthma while her husband watched the Bulldogs just downstairs. Asthma? Her history of asthma was spotty, so she didn’t have her medication by her side and the attack was so unexpected she didn’t have a plan. She couldn’t cry out. How horrible. I suspect murder. But I’m no criminologist. This woman had a huge life insurance policy on her, as she was self employed in Floors. He waxed her. (sic) I just know it. (thank you, columbo)
As a baby boomer participant in sex drugs and rock and roll, I remember that I constantly reminded my constituency when we started smoking grass and dropping acid in the sixties that at some point we would quit doing drugs, Stop reenacting page 37 of the Kama Sutra (sic) just to honor black lights, and start listening to Mozart, say at thirty years of age or so. Everyone I talked to said, yes, that would be a good idea, but stfu, don’t bogart (sic) that joint, and don’t the Doors get weirder with each album, man, (and why wasn’t I naked?)
Well, thirty came, and nobody but me quit. Then forty, then fifty, and now sixty is right there, baby, and the baby boomers are popping pills, screwing for pizza, and playing sick air guitar to every stinking song that has a riff.
But not me, I’m sober, I drink decaf, and I listen closely to Salieri’s overtures and noticing how Mozart did amazing variations on them and created masterpieces. Salieri’s music is what any man could write who wanted to be a composer strongly enough. I think Beethoven’s music came from plain hard work and elbow grease, (and copying mozart), until he matured, and then his music, although original and amazing, becomes tedious and obvious with each listening. Beethoven was no Mozart. Beethoven even admitted to a friend, late in life that he had written nothing. His friend objected, “you have the 7th”, and Beethoven responded, “Yes, I have the 7th”.
I dont know where Mozart’s music came from. Neither did he. He would tell his constituency that the music would just appear, completely finished in his head and he would just hear it, remember everything, and write it down. Surely this man was not one of us.
Any of us could have written most of rock and roll. The exceptions are Brian Wilson, John Lennon, Paul McCartny, George Harrison, Buddy Holly, and Abba. The music didn’t die with Buddy Holly, as suggested by the decoded lyrics to “American Pie” by Don McClean.
You know, about “American Pie” and those lyrics: I used to frequent a yippie (sic) pizza joint in the seventies called “Pappa Luigis”, in Detroit, (I drove a GM car. I hated the 70’s) where I swear, every table had people arguing over the meaning of the lyrics. I would just walk around and tune it to each table. A half-drank pitcher of beer would moderate the discussion about who the jester was…and why was the levy dry, (we still don’t really know, do we?), but who cares. I remember a very close friend got angry with me one day and looked me deep in the eyes and said, “Do you know what “American Pie” is all about? I said, “Yeah, it’s about the death of rock and roll”. His eyes rolled around in his head, and he objected at first, “NO! That’s wrong! See? That’s your problem! American Pie is about……yeah, the death of rock and roll. Wow. I just did my master’s thesis on “American Pie”, how music has sold out, and how even Led Zeppelin is just a cartoon of themselves, (Black Dog) and you just summed it up in one phrase. I hate you. My professor thought I was a genius, but….you’re still a jerk, though”
I swear this happened. He shut up fast, and poured himself a glass of beer from the pitcher, emptying it completely, and forcing me to get another one. (Hic)
The day the music died: My wife saw Tiny Tim in person in 1986, in an emergency room in New York City, after she had an allergic reaction to wine at a restaurant, and there he was in a hospital gown, looking like a drug overdose. I guess he didn’t quit in his fifties either.
By Bob
November 26, 2008 7:55 AM | Link to this
I live in Southern California and when I read about us being the worst drivers. I just had to respond.
I’ve been to most tourist areas here and have seen many traffic violations and accidents. Just because you have seen bad driving does not mean that they are from here. Most of the time it’s the tourist that don’t know how to drive in populated areas. I’ve seen my share of accidents and more time then not they have an out of state plate.