LOCAL DESIGN / MASTER BUILDER'S LOVE STORY WITH THE OCEAN BEACH PIER

  

 THE BIG ONE--Construction of the Ocean Beach Pier started in early 1965 and was completed by July 1966. At the time, it was the longest concrete pier in the world, extending out 1,971 feet into the ocean. (Photo courtesy of Teyssier family) 

It rises out of the Pacific like a concrete roadway to heaven, stretching nearly 2,000 feet into San Diego's surf-churned horizon. The original Ocean Beach Pier, began 60 years ago and completed in July 1966, remains a feat of engineering and a testament to the willpower and ingenuity of the man who built it: Leonard Edward Teyssier.   

Constructed during the region’s mid-century building boom, the OB Pier was, at the time, the longest concrete pier in the world. It was not a simple project—far from it. Bidding to construct such an audacious structure in a place known for high surf and rough waters required more than just ambition. It demanded creative engineering and hands-on know-how. 

That’s where Teyssier came in.   

Rather than rely on the floating barges, cranes, and towboats used by major pier contractors, Teyssier devised a method unique to the OB shoreline: a system of heavy steel-beam outriggers, anchored on the structure itself and “back-spanned” to support a 60-ton crane. 

Mr. Leonard Teyssier

This allowed his team to build outward from shore, advancing over pounding surf each day using self-designed rigs and platforms—construction as performance, nearly swallowed by the sea.   

Teyssier’s pier wasn’t just concrete and rebar—it was community. During the final months of construction, excited OB residents raised funds to extend the pier further into the sea. The City of San Diego matched the funds. Leonard was so moved by the community’s enthusiasm that he built the south wing extension at his own cost, ensuring the best fishing spots would be reachable.   

More than half a century later, in June 2023, the San Diego Historical Resources Board officially designated the Ocean Beach Pier as a historic resource.   Leonard Teyssier’s imprint on the region goes well beyond OB. 

As founder of Teyssier & Teyssier, Inc., he helped shape mid-century San Diego’s skyline. At just 29, he secured the bid to build the groundbreaking Starlite Express—San Diego’s first outdoor glass elevator—at the El Cortez Hotel. He bypassed expensive scaffolding by anchoring metal brackets directly through the hotel walls, a bold move that saved $50,000 and showcased his engineering creativity.   

He also developed the Le Rondelet luxury condominiums at the entrance to Shelter Island in 1967—a project co-created with his wife, Monica, who envisioned managing a residential property. The building remains a landmark in Point Loma.   

Teyssier’s background explains his adaptability. Born in Durango, Colorado in 1927, he grew up in a construction family. His father built roads and highways across the West, often living in tents on remote job sites. It was there—watching, working, and living among road crews—that Leonard gained his early education in building.   

Following Navy service in WWII, he returned to San Diego, enrolled at what is now SDSU, and launched his company with only $300 and a used pickup. 

Without a license of his own, he partnered with his licensed builder father to meet regulatory requirements. The rest was grit, hustle, and innovation.   

Teyssier passed away on April 11, 2024, at age 97. But anyone who has walked the Ocean Beach Pier—through salt wind, crashing surf, and that peculiar stillness only found a quarter-mile out over the Pacific—has experienced his legacy. 

GONE BUT NOT FORGOTTEN.The Ocean Beach Pier in San Diego was originally constructed in 1966 and has not undergone a complete rebuild since then. Over the years, it has experienced various repairs due to storm damage, including significant repairs in 1991 following winter storms.

Local residents line the wall of the original OB Pier. Storm damage has closed the pier until a new planned pier is built.

In recent years, the pier has suffered extensive damage from storms and high surf, leading to multiple closures. Notably, it was closed from January to July 2023 and again in October 2023 due to high surf damage. Further damage in December 2023, when a support bracket broke off and fell into the ocean, prompted the City of San Diego to determine that significant structural rehabilitation is not feasible. As a result, the city has decided to move forward with plans for a long-term replacement of the pier. 

The proposed replacement aims to maintain the pier's iconic elements while incorporating modern features, such as an elevated walkway, retail spaces, and enhanced areas for public use. The new design is expected to be more resilient to future storm damage and rising sea levels. 

As of now, the Ocean Beach Pier remains closed, and the city is in the process of finalizing plans for its replacement.ABC 10 News San Diego KGTV+1KPBS Public Media+1

Sources: Based on reporting by Dave Schwab, Peninsula Beacon via Times of San Diego/Newswell. Sepia image by Chat GPT4o. 

IN ITS GLORY...

SUNDAY REVIEW / JOHN SLOAN’S IMMORTAL PUBS

“HELL HOLE”: A BAR ROOM TIME CAPSULE 

John Sloan’s 1917 etching (above) "Hell Hole" captures a corner of old Manhattan that no longer exists but once held court at 4th Street and Sixth Avenue: The Golden Swan Café, a weathered Irish saloon known among locals and regulars as “The Hell Hole.” 

A watering hole for the down-and-out, the near-famous, and the truly lost, it was also, for a time, a regular haunt of playwright Eugene O’Neill—depicted quietly at the upper right of Sloan’s frame. 

 Created using etching and aquatint, the print is a textbook example of Sloan’s Ashcan School roots—an unromantic, observational style that gave weight to city life below the skyline. 

The room is crowded, but nothing’s hidden. 

Selfie, 1890 John Sloan

The bar sags with regulars. Figures lean into each other, either mid-rant or mid-collapse. There’s no glamour, only routine: drinks poured, bodies slumped, an air of smoke, sweat, and something bordering on defeat. 

 Sloan wasn’t looking for heroes or villains. He was drawing what he saw. And what he saw was a slice of urban life too often ignored by polite society or idealized by later nostalgia. 

In that sense, Hell Hole isn’t just an artwork—it’s documentation. The aquatint process gives the piece a murky, soaked-in texture that suits the subject. This was not a bright place. 

It had its code, its clientele, and, in O’Neill’s case, its ghosts. For the playwright, the saloon served as both a hiding place and a well of material. Sloan catches him before the legend, anonymous amid the clutter, a writer watching the room instead of commanding it. 

 Hell Hole remains a sharp and durable portrait of a city always on the edge of reinvention. The saloon is long gone, the block redeveloped, but Sloan’s etching holds the room together, if only in black ink. 

ANOTHER BAR SCENE BY JOHN SLOAN:

McSorley's Bar, 1912

Barroom Realism: 

John Sloan’s 1912 painting "McSorley’s Bar" doesn’t try to impress—it simply shows you the room. Six men, two bartenders, a wall of portraits, a couple of mugs in motion. No drama, no romance. 

Just the hum of daily life inside a New York saloon that’s been poured into over since Lincoln. What makes it work is Sloan’s refusal to dress it up. The colors are muted, the figures worn-in, the bar cluttered like any real one. The man leaning over his beer isn’t posing for art history. 

He’s listening to a story or avoiding one. Sloan gives us that space—private, public, functional. This isn’t a scene of nostalgia or critique. It’s observation. It’s how a bar looked and felt before neon, before jukeboxes, before marketing. It holds its ground. 

Like McSorley’s itself, it doesn’t care if you get it. No gloss, no gimmick. Just a saloon, a painter, and a moment that still feels like it might spill into yours. It’s a fine example of the Ashcan School because it doesn’t elevate the ordinary—it lets the ordinary elevate itself.

COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / UNCHAIN MY HEART

Clayton’s Coffee Shop: Indy Charm Without the Gimmick 

Coronado, California / Walk past the polished storefronts along Orange Avenue, and you'll find Clayton’s Coffee Shop--an indy coffee house--doing exactly what it’s done for decades—serving coffee, comfort food, and a quiet kind of continuity. No fanfare, no hashtags, just breakfast with a side of Coronado’s lived-in history. 

Originally opened in 1938 as Gerry’s Coffee Shop, the place has passed through several hands and names but never lost its footing. By the time it became “Clayton’s” in the late 1970s, the horseshoe counter was already worn in, the jukeboxes already humming, and the regulars already loyal. 

Today, under the ownership of Mary Frese, Clayton’s has kept its mid-century soul intact. 

Coffee is strong, not precious. 

The stools still spin, the pies still disappear before noon, and the smell of bacon and pancake batter is as dependable as the morning tide. 

What sets Clayton’s apart isn’t its aesthetic—though the chrome trim and powder-blue booths are textbook Americana—but its refusal to modernize itself into irrelevance. 

The donut and coffee window opens at 5 a.m. for early risers. The bistro next door, added in 2019, offers acai bowls, espresso drinks, and gingerbread biscotti, but even that feels more like an annex than a reinvention. 

The menu stays in its lane: meatloaf, biscuits and gravy, milkshakes blended to order.

Waitstaff are quick, genuine. Tourists show up for the Instagram shot, but locals come to eat, to talk, or to sit silently and watch the morning roll by. It’s also one of the last diners in Southern California with an original horseshoe counter. That alone would be enough for most places to slap a plaque on the wall. 

At Clayton’s, it’s just where you sit. And here’s the kicker: Unchain my heart. This isn’t a Denny’s. (No grand slam on Denny's but Clayton's isn't cookie cutter) No laminated menus, no corporate slogans. What you get here is the real thing—staff that remember your order, booths that remember your weight, and a vibe that doesn’t try too hard because it never had to. 

There’s a difference between nostalgia and survival. Clayton’s hasn’t tried to stage a comeback or build itself into a theme. It never left. It simply held onto the parts of the past that still work—the practical, the charming, the human—and let time come to it. 

    --By Holden DeMayo, Lots of Food Critic for PillartoPost.org online daily magazine. 

PHOTO GALLERY

FRIDAY FUNNIES / POLITICAL CARTOONS R-US

 

THE FOODIST / NAKED TRUTH: HOW MUCH CHOCOLATE DOES THE WORLD CONSUME IN A YEAR. BARE FACTS, PLEASE

By 2025, the world’s appetite for chocolate remains insatiable. 

Annual global consumption now hovers around 7.5 million metric tons, with leading markets in Europe, North America, and Asia continuing to drive demand. 

But behind the creamy allure of truffles and bars lies a more complex story—one that asks whether our chocolate habits are helping or harming the planet, economies, and our own health.  

Europe still reigns supreme when it comes to per capita chocolate consumption. Switzerland, Germany, and the UK top the list, each citizen consuming upwards of 10 kilograms per year. 

Meanwhile, North American markets have plateaued, while Asia—especially China and India—shows steady growth, thanks to expanding middle-class populations and Westernized palates.  

On the surface, this growth signals a boon for economies in cocoa-producing nations. West African countries like Côte d’Ivoire and Ghana account for over 60% of global cocoa production. In theory, high demand should translate into better incomes for farmers. In practice, however, much of the wealth is absorbed by multinational chocolate companies, with smallholder farmers often earning less than $1 a day. 

Efforts such as fair trade certification and bean-to-bar movements continue to gain traction, but remain a small fraction of the market.  

Then there’s the health angle. While dark chocolate—especially those with 70% cacao or higher—is touted for its antioxidants and heart-healthy flavonoids, the majority of global consumption still leans toward sugar-laden milk chocolate products. 

As obesity, diabetes, and related diseases rise worldwide, critics argue that the industry must take more responsibility in marketing and formulation, especially when targeting younger audiences.  

Environmentalists also voice concern. Cocoa farming has long been associated with deforestation, particularly in biodiverse regions. The push for higher yields often leads to clear-cutting forests, depleting soils, and increased pesticide use. 

Major brands have pledged to shift toward more sustainable sourcing, but watchdog groups claim progress is slow and inconsistent.  

In 2025, chocolate remains a global comfort food—one that delights taste buds but carries weighty implications. 

ANY GOOD NEWS?

Conscious consumerism is on the rise. More buyers are checking labels, supporting ethical brands, and demanding transparency from the chocolate giants.  

So, is chocolate good or bad in 2025? 

The answer, like a fine ganache, is complex. Sweet—but bittersweet.

ART DECO CENTURY / DELMONICO'S

Delmonico’s: 

Where American Fine Dining Was Born 

Long before Manhattan was marbled with Michelin stars, before the white tablecloth became a standard, and before steak could be branded “Delmonico-style,” there was Delmonico’s. 

Opened in 1827 by Swiss immigrants Giovanni and Pietro Delmonico, the restaurant began humbly as a pastry shop on William Street. But within a decade, it morphed into the nation’s first true fine dining establishment—a New World experiment in European luxury. 

It became the first restaurant in America to offer a printed menu, private dining rooms, and a wine list curated with imported vintages. 

Even the concept of tipping was introduced to the U.S. by way of Delmonico’s—and with it, the art of gracious, attentive service. 

56 Beaver Street

A Stage for Power and Appetite 

The iconic building at 56 Beaver Street, with its curved entrance and Corinthian columns, opened in 1891 and remains the most enduring symbol of the Delmonico dynasty. 

This was where the Gilded Age’s power players came to dine: J.P. Morgan held court in a private room, Charles Dickens stopped by on his American tour, and Mark Twain once celebrated the end of his “round-the-world” trip with a dinner of oysters, terrapin, and Champagne. 

Abraham Lincoln, invited to dine here before his Cooper Union speech, reportedly declined the opulence, but his legacy lingers in the mahogany-paneled rooms. 

Inventing American Cuisine

One Dish at a Time Delmonico’s isn’t just a restaurant—it’s a test kitchen for history. It is credited with the creation of Lobster Newberg, Eggs Benedict, and the eponymous Delmonico Steak—a boneless cut from the ribeye, broiled and basted with butter. 

The kitchen, under legendary chef Charles Ranhofer, produced a 1,000-page cookbook (The Epicurean, 1894) that set the gold standard for fine dining in America. Even today, the menu honors its past. 

Order the Lobster Newberg and you’ll taste 1876; opt for the Baked Alaska, flambéed with ceremony, and you’re partaking in a dessert that once closed banquets for Napoleon III. 

Anecdotes That Still Sizzle 

In 1860, the Prince of Wales dined at Delmonico’s and was so pleased he insisted on tipping every waiter personally—setting a precedent that American diners have loved and loathed ever since. 

Oscar Wilde, when dining at Delmonico’s, reportedly ordered a course of only strawberries and Champagne, declaring, “I have a simple taste. I am always satisfied with the best.” 

Truman Capote, in his Black and White Ball planning stages, flirted with the idea of Delmonico’s as a venue. He eventually chose the Plaza—but rumor has it, his decision was swayed by a less-than-favorable cocktail served during a quiet lunch. 

Still a Table Worth Claiming 

After temporary closures and revivals, Delmonico’s continues to endure. The kitchen has updated, of course, and the clientele now includes Wall Street analysts alongside literary dreamers. But walk through its arching doors and you still feel it: the hush of history, the murmur of scandal and celebration, the scent of butter on charred beef. 

Delmonico’s is not just a restaurant. It is a culinary cathedral—timeless, theatrical, and always worth dressing up for. 

 

The Mural 

The painting on the far wall of Delmonico’s Grand Salon is a contemporary mural titled “The Banquet of the Medici” by Vincent Maragliotti, a 20th-century American muralist known for his lush, theatrical compositions. Unlike traditional Renaissance works that the title might evoke, Maragliotti’s piece at Delmonico’s reimagines the spirit of a grand banquet in a modern idiom. 

Painted in the 1920s during the restaurant's Art Deco-era revival, the mural depicts a glamorous, high-society dinner scene—elegantly dressed men and women dining, conversing, and engaging in quiet flirtation. 

It evokes a timelessness that bridges the Medici courts of Florence with the Gilded Age of New York, casting the diners as both audience and actors in a centuries-old tradition of indulgence, intellect, and intrigue. 

Maragliotti, who also created murals for the Waldorf Astoria and Radio City Music Hall, specialized in these grand tableaux that celebrated cultural refinement and opulence. 

The work at Delmonico’s acts as both historical homage and subtle theater set—reminding guests that at this table, they too are part of a larger performance. 

SPACE CADETS / CATHEDRALS OF COLOR. CHAOS. FAR OFF DUST & ANCIENT FIRE

HUMANS ARE OUR OWN BIG DEAL BUT NO WHERE ELSE. 

What you see above isn’t a canvas by Jackson Pollock. It’s not the burnt-orange swirl of a Georgia O’Keeffe dreamscape or a rejected early Kandinsky. What you’re looking at is a photograph. A photograph of something real, immense, and entirely indifferent to our presence. 

Seeing this new photograph continues to prove our human footprint is smaller than we thought. Tiny to the point of insignificance. Yes, we are important as human beings but the farther we explore the universe the smaller our self-image becomes. 

Let's take a look at new findings to prove our point.

The Trifid Nebula (top right) and the sprawling Lagoon Nebula—two astral gasworks smeared across the southern sky—were captured by the Vera C. Rubin Observatory during just over seven hours of exposure. The image is a digital mosaic, comprised of 678 separate frames stitched into one hallucinatory vision of the universe. 

It could hang in the Louvre, or behind Uncle Glenn’s workbench in Hickman, Nebraska. Either way, the effect is the same: cosmic awe. Or maybe existential humility. Released last month, this is the debut of the largest digital camera ever constructed—courtesy of the U.S. National Science Foundation and the Department of Energy. 

Perched atop a mountaintop in Chile, the Rubin Observatory has one directive: look deeper. 

For the next ten years, its task will be to map the southern sky, night after night, frame by digital frame. 

And what does it see? 

Color. 

Chaos. 

Cathedrals of dust and fire. Galaxies twirling like ballerinas and nebulae blooming with the slow confidence of time itself. That blush of rose in the center isn’t a brushstroke—it’s light emitted by ionized hydrogen. 

The blue filaments are oxygen. Everything glows with the heat of ancient violence. 

This is what realism looks like, if you pull the camera far enough back. A light-year measures roughly six trillion miles. These nebulas lie thousands of those away. Floating somewhere amid the stars of the Virgo Cluster (also captured below), bright spirals churn—unreachable, but visible. 

For the first time, we are witnessing not the universe we invent in art, but the one we were born into without permission. 

The Vera C. Rubin Observatory hopes to image 20 billion galaxies. It also intends to locate new asteroids, parse unexplored phenomena, and, if ambition counts for anything, perhaps finally pin down the mysteries of dark matter and dark energy—forces as vague as they are overwhelming. 

The project is named for Vera Rubin, the astronomer whose work gave early evidence that the cosmos isn’t just filled with stars, but with something else—something massive, invisible, and quietly binding everything together. Something we still don’t understand. 

Which brings us back to the image. Is it abstract? Certainly. Is it art? That depends on whether you consider awe a valid medium. To the trained astronomer, it’s data. To the untrained soul, it’s reminder. A whisper from the edge: You are small. You are a blink. But still—you are looking. And that, in itself, is enough to matter. 

--Original essay from PillartoPost.org daily online magazine.

MEDIA MONDAY / PRINT ISN'T QUITE DEAD.

A FEW NEW SHOOTS SPROUT IN A FOREST BLACKENED BY THE DIGITAL AGE 

GUEST BLOG / By Sarah Grevy Gotfredsen writing in the Tech section of Columbia Journalism Review's The Media Today-- Print magazines weren’t expected to survive the digital age, yet they’re still holding on, if not always thriving. In 2024, several news stories highlighted a small but notable resurgence. Publications like Vice, Nylon, and Playboy, which had previously abandoned their print editions, began reviving them, albeit in limited runs. Print shifted from the default medium to a luxury item—a premium add-on for those willing to pay extra. And now, as Axios reported recently, even corporate storytelling is going analog, including among companies driving the digital revolution. Last week, Microsoft launched Signal, a hundred-and-twenty-page magazine targeting business leaders. The first issue includes an essay by Bill Gates; a Q&A with Satya Nadella, the CEO; and a lifestyle section at the back. 

 Steve Clayton, the vice president of Microsoft’s communications strategy, told me that he was inspired to launch Signal after reading an October 2024 New York Times story about the success of Costco Connection, a magazine that the retail chain launched in 1987 and is now the third-largest magazine in the country, with a circulation of over fifteen million copies each month. Signal doesn’t have quite the same ambitions in terms of reach, Clayton said, but it encouraged him to experiment with the print format. “We’re in this world where everything seems so ephemeral,” he said this week, while showing me the magazine on a Zoom call. “It was time to do something that was almost the opposite of that.” The magazine’s name is a nod to cutting through the noise. 

 The comeback of print—both in traditional media and corporate storytelling—seems driven partly by nostalgia and a craving for the tangible. In the words of Belle Cushing, who wrote about the resurgence of high school newspapers for CJR last year, print is “cool again”; one student said that newspapers have a throwback appeal, kind of like Polaroid cameras. Others said that they offer a break from the constant online news cycle and all-consuming apps like TikTok. (In an interview for yesterday’s edition of this newsletter, Kelsey Russell, an influencer who talks about the news on TikTok, described getting a print subscription to the Times as a revelation. “Our algorithms are aggregated to show us things that will make us pay attention, and many times those things are negative,” Russell told Yona TR Golding. “I realized when I read print, I would actually process what I was reading.”) 

Older people are feeling the pull toward print as well. 

Clayton said he deliberately chose not to publish Signal’s content online, as people tend to skim long PDF files. “We want this to be something people sit with, read, and cherish,” he said. If the first issue of Signal proves popular, the magazine will be published quarterly going forward. 

 Signal’s articles are written by a mix of in-house staff, which includes former journalists, and contributors from Delayed Gratification, a UK-based magazine that operates under the slogan “last to breaking news.” Indeed, faced with newsroom layoffs, journalists are increasingly pivoting to careers in corporate storytelling. The Times article about Costco Connection described how a cartoonist from the Oakland Tribune joined the magazine after relocating to Washington State (home to Costco HQ). Other migration destinations have included the Red Bulletin, a lifestyle magazine published by Red Bull Media House, which has a monthly print run of 1.4 million copies. Even Hinge, the dating app, paired with literary writers to produce No Ordinary Love, an anthology of dating stories meant to connect with a Gen Z audience. 

 Of course, the number of print magazines making a comeback remains limited. Airline magazines, for example, have mostly gone digital—a shift exacerbated by the growing availability of onboard Wi-Fi. 

The final edition of Hemispheres, United Airlines’ in-flight magazine, was published in September of last year. As Lucy Schiller wrote for CJR at the time, it marked the end of an era. But, while the evolution of print may have branched off in a slimmer, less traditional, and at times more corporate direction, it continues to move forward nonetheless. 

 This CJR newsletter is a collaboration with the Tow Center for Digital Journalism. 

SUNDAY REVIEW / STARTED ON THE NOVEL BEFORE SHE WAS BORN

 

COFFEE BEANS & BEINGS / CUPPA JOE WITH JODIE

The Brave One (2007) – A Summer Noir Worth Another Sip

There are revenge films—and then there’s The Brave One, a gritty, under-the-radar gem that simmers with rage and melancholy in equal parts. Directed by Neil Jordan and released in 2007, this urban vigilante tale may have flown below the radar, but Jodie Foster’s performance leaves a permanent scar. 

She shoulda, woulda, coulda had an Oscar nominee.  But no. Noir dramas got the short stick once again.

Foster plays Erica Bain, a New York radio host who survives a brutal assault that leaves her fiancé dead and her identity fractured.

 The city, once her muse, becomes a shadowland of threat and menace. Amazing what a great cinematographer [Phillipe Rouselot] can do with alleys and subways. What unfolds is not a sleek, stylized vendetta—it’s personal, feral, and disturbingly plausible. Foster’s portrayal isn’t just strong—it’s surgical. 

Cinematographer Phillipe Rouselot

Critics at the time, like The Guardian, called her performance “mesmerizing,” and The New York Times praised her ability to “hold the screen like a wounded lioness.” 

Yes, The Brave One is a vigilante flick, but it wears a noir trenchcoat. It opens rough but the violence is tempered the rest of the way--or as much as a gun play flick can ease off.

The palette is moody, the streets wet with moral ambiguity. Every subway ride and alley crawl feels like a plunge into the psyche. It's a film that doesn't glorify violence—it examines the fallout, the corrosion of self, the impossibility of justice in a system built on delay and denial.  

Terrence Howard offers a layered turn as the detective who suspects, then sympathizes.  And, of course, director Neil Jordan (far right with Jodie Foster on the set of The Brave One) knows his noir.  Aces.

But it’s Foster’s show. 

She carries the film with haunted dignity, whispering to the ghost of her former self. You don’t just watch The Brave One—you feel like you’re rolling in the grit right alongside her. If you missed it in '07, pour a strong cup of coffee or whatever, dim the lights, and let this one unfurl. It’s summer noir, unsung and unforgettable. 

***

Maybe it's time for a modern era noir hall of fame?  If so, The Brave One makes the list despite one of the world's most blah titles.  

Did I strike a nerve?   I can hear you say: "OK, smartie come up with a better movie title for this New York noir.  

Easy.  Too easy.

Call the damn thing "Recoil"  

The orginial title: The Brave One sounds like Mel Gibson on oatmeal.

--Review by F. Stop Fitzgerald, PillartoPost.org popcorn and coffee critic.

FRIDAY FUNNIES / TRUTH BEHIND THE SMILES

By Bill Bramhall
 

AMERICANA / WHAT REALLY STARTED THE U.S. CIVIL WAR?

GUEST BLOG / By Robert Gudmestad, Professor of History Department, Colorado State University via TheConversation.com 

U.S. citizenship test – which immigrants must pass before becoming citizens of the United States – has this question: “Name one problem that led to the Civil War.” It lists three possible correct answers: “slavery,” “economic reasons” and “states’ rights.” 

 But as a historian and professor who studies slavery, Southern history and the American Civil War, I know there’s really only one correct answer: slavery.  

White Southerners left the Union to establish a slave-holding republic; they were dedicated to the preservation of slavery. What’s more, unlike slavery in the ancient world, slavery in the United States was based on race. 

Enslaved people posed on a plantation in the South.

By the time of the Civil War, Black people were the ones enslaved; white people were not. Every American citizen, whether born in this country or naturalized, should understand that the conflict over slavery is what caused the Civil War. 

 The history Slavery in the U.S. began at least as early as 1619, when a Portuguese ship brought about 20 enslaved African people to present-day Virginia. 

It grew so quickly that by the time Colonists fought for their independence from England in 1775, slavery was legal in all 13 Colonies. 

 As the 19th century progressed, Northern states slowly abolished slavery; but Southern states made it central to their economy. 

By 1860, nearly 4 million enslaved people lived in the South. Increasingly, the North and South were at odds over the future of slavery. 

White Southerners believed slavery had to expand into new territories or it would die. 

In 1845, they pressured the federal government to annex Texas, where slavery was legal. They also supported an effort to purchase Cuba and add it as a slave state. 

 In the North, people generally opposed the expansion of slavery into new territories, and many favored the gradual emancipation of enslaved people. 

A smaller group, known as abolitionists, wanted slavery to end immediately. But even though many Northerners opposed the expansion of slavery, they did not favor equal rights for Black people. 

In most Northern states, segregation was rampant, Blacks were barred from voting and violence against them was common. By the 1850s, it became more difficult for the federal government to satisfy either side. 

The Compromise of 1850, a series of bills that tried to solve the problem, pleased almost no one. 

 The publication of the 1852 novel “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” – about the pain and injustice inflicted on an enslaved man – turned Northerners against slavery even more. 

In the 1857 Dred Scott decision, the Supreme Court ruled that enslaved people were not U.S. citizens, nor could Congress ban slavery in a federal territory. 

Two years later, the abolitionist John Brown attacked a federal arsenal in Harpers Ferry, Virginia, in an unsuccessful attempt to supply weapons to enslaved people. 

 

Enslaved people working on a plantation.

Lincoln becomes president, secession follows Amid this swirl of troubles, the presidential election of 1860 took place. A new political party, the Republican Party, was opposed to the spread of slavery throughout the western territories. 

With four major candidates running for president, Abraham Lincoln won the electoral vote – but only 40% of the popular vote. The election of a president from a party that opposed slavery jolted white Southerners to action. 

Less than two months after Lincoln won, South Carolina delegates, meeting in Charleston, decided to secede from the Union – that is, to formally withdraw membership in the United States. 

Other Southern states followed and said slavery was the primary reason for secession. Texas delegates wrote the abolition of slavery “would bring inevitable calamities upon both races and desolation” in the slave states. 

The Mississippi secession document said “our position is thoroughly identified with the institution of slavery – the greatest material interest in the world.” 

 The hundreds of brutal, bloody battles of the Civil War took a terrible toll on the country. 

Confederate supporters made their position clear The vice president of the Confederacy, Alexander Stephens, also said slavery was the reason for secession, and that Thomas Jefferson’s words in the Declaration of Independence – that all men are created equal – were wrong. “Our new government is founded upon exactly the opposite idea,” Stephens told a crowd. “Its foundations are laid, its cornerstone rests, upon the great truth that the negro is not equal to the white man; that slavery subordination to the superior race is his natural and normal condition.” 

 Although the evidence shows slavery caused the Civil War, some Southerners created a myth – the “Lost Cause” – that transformed Confederate generals into heroes who were defending freedom. 

To some degree, that myth has, unfortunately, taken hold. Some schools are still named after Confederate generals; so are some military bases, although that is changing. 

 It’s important to know the real reason for the Civil War so the country no longer celebrates historical figures who fought to establish a slave-holding republic.

Alexander Proctor statue of Robert E. Lee was removed from Dallas and relocated at the private Lajitas Golf Resort in Terlingua, Texas. 

LOCAL / SON OF A SEVENTH SCOOP--NORTH PARK STYLE

San Diego’s tastiest tradition is back and chillier than ever. Mark your calendars for the 7th Annual Scoop San Diego Ice Cream Festival, scooping its way into North Park on Sunday, June 22, 2025, from 12:00 PM to 4:00 PM. 

Held at the intersection of 30th Street and North Park Way (3000 N Park Way, San Diego, CA 92104), this beloved community event serves up more than just cones and cups—it’s a celebration of local flavor, family fun, and giving back. 

What makes this festival extra sweet? 100% of net proceeds are donated to ProduceGood, a nonprofit committed to eliminating food waste and feeding the hungry by rescuing surplus produce from backyard gardens and local farms. So every scoop you enjoy supports a good cause. 

Expect a wide array of ice cream vendors, music, games, and photo-worthy moments like those seen in years past—where families and friends gather under sunny skies, cones in hand and smiles in full bloom. Tickets are on sale now, and if past years are any indication, they won’t last long. 

Whether you’re a fan of classic vanilla or a seeker of artisanal, dairy-free innovation, Scoop San Diego is the summer’s can’t-miss treat. 

More information and tickets available at scoopsandiego.org 

SAD-ERR-DAY / BIRTHDAY EVENT WAS A PATHETIC SHOW FOR A PATHETIC PRESIDENT

LOW CROWD. Army soldiers march and tanks roll down a street in Washington, D.C. as people stand on the streets watching them. It is not a large crowd. Getty Images. 

GUEST BLOG / By Malcolm Ferguson, The New Republic Magazine-- Three dozen horses, 28 Abrams tanks, 6,700 soldiers, and millions of taxpayer dollars later, and the big Orange's military birthday parade was still a flop at best. 

 A crowd that was well under the administration’s projected 200,000 peppered the National Mall last Saturday in a festival-style event featuring Army info sessions, military fitness challenges, weapons exhibits, and other activities prior to the parade. Military members spoke onstage the entire time to a sparse audience, as most of the attendees perused the various offerings, hoisting their children up into the massive tanks and turrets sitting on the mall for pictures. 

 But the parade itself was quite boring, save for those military exhibits. It was generally very quiet—so quiet you could clearly hear the creaks and squeaks of the armored vehicles—with intermittent music that was constantly being lowered so that the parade narrator could announce each battalion. 

Weak chants of “USA, USA” popped up every 10 minutes or so. 

And the majority of the parade was just soldiers walking by—many not even marching in step with each other—many in military garb from wars past. 

Children grew weary in the humidity, as did some adults. 

One man wearing an Infowars.com shirt kept yelling, “Bring out the tanks!!” and complained that “people got no energy out here.” 

Another started scrolling on TikTok. There were large cheers for West Point and some confused murmurs for the Boston Dynamics robot dogs.

 

BIGGER CROWD. Thousands of people march during the “No Kings” protest in opposition to the incumbent presidency on the day of the military parade, June 14, in Los Angeles. Getty Images

The event didn’t truly begin to feel electric until the parade ended and Trump and JD Vance spoke. Crowds of people hurried to the other side of the mall to catch just a glimpse of Trump as he spoke behind a humongous piece of glass hundreds of yards away for about seven minutes. 

The finale featured massive fireworks and more music, as people linked arms and swayed while they sang, “I’m Proud to Be an American.” 

 Many of the attendees felt that this parade was necessary because the military had been disrespected, weakened, and kneecapped by “the left.” They believed that a show of force and pride could directly remedy that, cost and optics be damned. “I think there’s a gigantic disconnect between the American populace and the military. The military has turned into a culture of warriors. It’s like a family thing now, right?” said Brandon, an older 24-year retired Army veteran from Pennsylvania who didn’t want to give his last name. Brandon was actually at the last military parade of this stature, the Gulf War victory parade in the summer of 1991. “People walking down the street will say, ‘Thank you for your service,’ but … they won’t suggest it to their teenage children or the people in their lives.” This perceived disconnect from the civilian public is exactly why Brandon felt the parade was important. “I don’t think [civilians] really quite understand what it takes or what goes into it. [They think] it’s for someone else. ‘It’s not for me.’ Someone else’s child, someone else’s spouse, someone else’s parent.… This is obviously a large kind of national event. But even having a National Guard display at a local carnival, I think, helps to bring greater connection between the public and those who serve.”  End Brandon.

Air Force member Carlton Guthrie, 22, who was there with his wife, Whitney, told me that the tense political moment, particularly in the Middle East, called for a display such as this. “I think now is a scarier time than people think it is, just because we’re not really deployed as much as we used to be in the Middle East. It’s probably one of the scariest times in our country’s history where we have a bunch of people who hate us. So I think it’s a good time to show that we aren’t weak, because there’s lots of propaganda saying that the Army’s weak or the military is getting soft.” Guthrie also felt that Trump’s military support of Israel’s bombing of Iran was warranted given that “they chant Death to America in the streets of Iran. They don’t do that on the streets of Israel.… I think if Iran were left there to keep doing what they’re doing, it’ll just keep growing until it gets to us anyway.” 

 Justin Walz, who brought his wife and three young children from Farmville, Virginia, to the parade for Father’s Day weekend, told me that Trump’s parade sent a positive signal to young American men, many of whom he thinks are lost. “These young boys are looking for a father figure. And currently, there really are no father figures, a lot of fatherless homes,” he said. “And that’s the reason Trump has gained so much popularity in the younger community.” 

 Several QAnon TikTok influencers were also among the paltry crowd. Judy Alston of Delaware was a proud January 6er, sharing that her son-in-law even called the FBI on her for attending the 2021 insurrection. She went back the very next year. They all gave the usual QAnon spiel—All of our elected officials are sex-trafficking pedophiles, Hillary Clinton drinks kids’ blood to stay young, and Trump is somehow the only one brave enough to expose them. They told me that the parade wasn’t just a show of force, it was a “mask-off” event that would bring an end to the “250 years of disrespect” that the military has faced. One of them wore a “King Trump” shirt, while the other had a Pepe the frog necklace. One gifted me a small book by Loy Brunson about why socialism was an “existential threat” and told me to save it for my future children.

 Each Trump supporter justified the parade’s hefty price tag by bringing up “illegals taking American jobs” or “all the other stupid stuff we pay for.” 

One man chalked the critique up to simple “radical left nonsense,” and was surprised when I told him that libertarian Senator Rand Paul had levied that same critique. 

 The embarrassingly low turnout was exacerbated by the fact that not everyone was there to support Trump. Two veterans in attendance made it clear that they were separating the military’s birthday from Trump’s birthday, as they disapproved of the president but felt an obligation to the Army to be there. 

One older veteran named Al told me he thought Trump wasn’t “thinking before he moved.” Many protesters (and even some “neutral” attendees) emphasized that they wanted to reclaim and redefine patriotism. They weren’t anti-military in the slightest, but they were against the way MAGA now feels synonymous with the armed forces. “A huge reason why we’re here is because Trump doesn’t own patriotism in this country, and I don’t think we should let him,” said Eric Whitman, 42, of Washington, D.C. “I think it’s important for every American regardless of what party you’re in or who you voted for to come and support the military.… I think we’re taking a horrible turn right now in light of the administration’s policies, but we’re still American.” 

 Partners Jordan and Isabel, both in their thirties, were walking around the grounds with signs that read “Nobody paid me to be here, I protest for free” and “Happy 250th birthday Army, sorry TACO has you marching in the heat,” using the moniker for Trump that stands for Trump Always Chickens Out. “To an extent, the military and the American flag, for a long time, have been kind of symbols of the MAGA group, but I don’t think that’s a fair representation to either of those parties,” Isabel noted. “So we’re trying to take it back again, and just show support for the military without showing support to MAGA.” 

 Then there was Matt Hawthorne. While Trump was speaking, chants of “USA, USA” broke out that weren’t in response to the president. A small crowd had formed around one large white man with glasses who was screaming, “Traitor” and “Rapist” while Trump supporters surrounded him, shouting him down. They took Hawthorne’s protest sign, calling him a “stupid motherfucker.” He immediately pulled out another one that read “Cheer the troops. Boo the traitor. Using them as props,” and continued to holler until Park Police came over and the crowd dispersed. 

 Hawthorne told me he wasn’t afraid for his safety as a “big, powerful” white man. “Trump said that protest would be met with ‘heavy force.’ … That’s when people have to protest,” he said. “I am the safest person who can protest, and so it’s crucial that I do that.” Like other liberal resisters, Hawthorne had no issue with the parade conceptually, just Trump’s use of the military. “I support our military. I think it’s great to celebrate the Army’s birthday. I think that doing it so it ends at the White House on Trump’s birthday, with numerous birthday wishes for him, is wildly inappropriate and reminiscent of dictatorships around the world,” Hawthorne said. “If they wanted to do a historic parade, like a reconnection in Lexington and Concord, that would have been a wonderful birthday celebration for the Army. Traditionally, when the military has gone through D.C., it starts or ends at the U.S. Capitol to represent the people’s authority over our armed forces. Ending it at the White House is new, and shows how this president thinks that he should be the ultimate authority, which is authoritarianism.” End Hawthorne.

 While MAGA loyalists left the parade satisfied, it’s clear that many Americans feel very conflicted about what U.S. military power and patriotism mean in the Trump era. And the low turnout will force MAGA to go to great lengths to spin a clear flop as a success. Trump wanted badly for this to be a grand, raucous, March on Washington–level event, and it just wasn’t close. Now American taxpayers paid millions so a few people could watch tanks rumble down the street while soldiers marched in centuries-old war cosplay.  

Happy Birthday, United States Army.

SUMMER IN THE CITY; STREETCARS OH SO PRETTY

Boat Tram from Blackpool now in San Francisco.  One of San Francisco’s most delightful imports isn’t French, Italian, or Japanese—it’s British. Straight out of the seaside resort town of Blackpool, England, this open-topped “boat tram” is a rolling reminder that public transit can be as joyful as it is functional.  

Lovingly restored and painted in creamy butterscotch and red, the vessel-like tram makes a seasonal appearance on the F-Market & Wharves line, which itself is a museum in motion. 

Operated by Muni, San Francisco’s transit agency, the F-line runs historic streetcars, trolleys, and trams sourced from around the world—each one preserved, repainted, and returned to daily service like an old actor given one more run on stage.  

This particular boat tram, with its cheerful bunting and unmistakable open-air design, draws a crowd. The car is especially popular during the warmer months, when Muni pulls out its rarities to handle the swell of summer riders. 

With a bit of luck and timing, you can spot this gem gliding along Market Street or heading toward Fisherman’s Wharf—an unexpected breeze in the fog.  

The F-line operates with frequent daily service and provides local stops between subway stations along Market Street. 

Most days, it features beautifully restored PCC streetcars from the 1940s and ’50s, but it’s the offbeat classics like this boat tram that turn heads and start conversations.  

To catch a ride is to momentarily drift—not just through the city, but through time.

MEANWHILE...Here's what happened last Saturday in the City.

 

SUNDAY REVIEW / MOTOWN'S ROLLING SHIMMER OF SOUND

“Then He Kissed Me” – The Crystals It was 1963. Maybe you were heading home after a late summer shift, the AM radio humming from the dashboard speaker, windows down, and the air thick with youth and gasoline. 

Then it came on. 🎵 “Well, he walked up to me and he asked me if I wanted to dance…” 🎵 

The beat. 

The harmony. 

That rolling shimmer of sound. Then He Kissed Me by The Crystals wasn’t just a song—it became a metaphor for the breathless rush toward and through first loves. 

 Put it up there in a Hall of Fame all its own or perhaps alone along side "I'm a Believer" by the Monkees or "This Could be the Last Time" by the Rolling Stones. 

 Can you hear the rolling thunder that propels Jimmy McGriff's organ riffs? 

Then He Kissed Me--produced by Phil Spector, the teenage anthem was built inside his echoing temple of tape and reverb known as the Wall of Sound. Layer upon layer of instruments, from castanets to bass, strings to cymbals, came together in perfect symmetry. 

Spector’s sonic method turned a simple girl-meets-boy lyric into pop music architecture—a cathedral of longing and joy. Written by the Brill Building trio of Jeff Barry, Ellie Greenwich, and Spector himself, Then He Kissed Me is a blueprint of early '60s pop perfection. 

The Crystals, already riding high with hits like Da Doo Ron Ron, gave voice to the wide-eyed dreams of a generation. And lead singer Dolores "LaLa" Brooks (left) delivered the vocals with a breathless, almost cinematic sweetness that made listeners believe in every note. 

It’s been covered by everyone from The Beach Boys to Rachel Sweet, and it famously scored the opening Steadicam sequence in Goodfellas—a testament to its cool, enduring pulse. 

Back then, it was a love story told in under three minutes. Today, it’s nostalgia in motion. Click YouTube and listen again. You already know all the words. 

UNITED STATES ARMY AT 250 YEARS--THANK YOU!

We celebrate our Army today on its 250th Anniversary. This is the blog of a family who grew up in the military. [Silver Star, double Normandy vets, Guard Tomb of Unknown soldier].This current administration is shamelessly using the Army as a tool to celebrate its dictatorial and authoritarian goals. Celebrate our military men and women…they are protecting the Constitution, not honoring a man. “This We'll Defend" is the official motto of the United States Army. It signifies the Army's commitment to defending the nation, its people, and its values. The phrase reflects the Army's purpose of safeguarding the Constitution, the country, and its citizens from all threats. 

FRIDAY FINESSE / KANSAS CITY COOL

Chaz on the Plaza: Where Jazz, Hospitality, and Cuisine Cross Paths  

Chaz on the Plaza sits below street level in the Raphael Hotel, a place that doesn’t need to announce itself. The signage is subtle. The stairway descends into dim light and real atmosphere—the kind that comes from polished wood, low ceilings, and the quiet assurance of a place that knows exactly what it’s doing. 

It’s Kansas City through a velvet lens: jazz without kitsch, service without scripts, and a menu that reads like it was written by someone who respects hunger.  

Kansas City, a city steeped in jazz and barbecue, reveals its more refined side at

Chaz. The restaurant’s basement setting adds to its speakeasy charm, but this is no nostalgia trip. Chaz operates with polish and intention. Service is attentive but never obsequious. 

The menu tilts seasonal, grounded in locally sourced ingredients and Missouri sensibilities. Expect wild mushroom risotto plated with confidence, steak seared with quiet bravado, and a wine list that flatters the region without forgetting France.  

The bar is more than a pause between dinner and dessert—it’s a gathering place. 

On weekends, the piano comes alive, and with it, the spirits of Charlie Parker and Count Basie seem to hover. 

Live jazz is not a gimmick here—it’s an anchor. 

Local legends and fresh talent keep the music real and intimate. It’s not unusual for guests to nurse a nightcap longer than expected, lulled by melody and mood.  

Above Chaz, the Raphael Hotel completes the seduction. A restored 1920s landmark, the Raphael combines boutique luxury with vintage soul. 

Rooms overlook the Country Club Plaza, Kansas City’s Spanish Revival shopping district—a charming echo of Seville by way of the Midwest. 

For cross-country road warriors or cultured couples seeking a halfway point between coasts, the Raphael—and Chaz below it—form a welcome beacon.  

In an age of indistinguishable lobbies and generic dining rooms, Chaz stands apart. 

It has style without pretense, music without noise, and food that matters. Call it a jazz club, a brasserie, a hotel lounge, or a checkpoint for the culturally hungry—it answers to all and belongs uniquely to Kansas City (maybe without so much rain).