San Diego Impressions

JWise Thoughts

Encinitas, California on the beach at sunset

A bunch of random thoughts collected over the course of my first days in the San Diego area.

I count 57 teenagers here at Starbucks in Solana Beach, which has pushed the din up to steal any idea of concentration. It’s almost comical how many older people who had been working quietly got up and left as the kids started hitting a crescendo of noise. School obviously just got out for the day, but what’s peculiar about this crowd is that it must be about 90% girls. This begs the question as to why there are so few boys traveling with them. Also of note, there are two African American girls, two Indians, and three Asians, which means the racial divide stands at 88% Caucasians, which, when one considers the wealth required to live here, becomes a sad statement about an area that is 32% Hispanic but they appear to not be represented at all.

The continual utterance of the word “like” is popping up ad nauseam. While it’s no longer spoken with the Valley Girl intonation that was popular in the late 1970s, it is still in use or, should I say, abuse. Caroline and I recently became more aware of it in our own speech and are trying to nudge one another when it starts to infiltrate our vocabulary inappropriately.

Seven Chinese men are sitting in front of another Starbucks; they are playing a card game. Each man is holding about a dozen cards. An old Chinese lady squints to read the paper, two Hindu men are busy pointing to some paperwork they are going through, a couple of Native Americans watch videos on their phones while a parade of nationalities passes through the drive-thru, serviced by a diverse staff mostly in their young twenties. The losing man of the card game leaves the table, and someone else takes his place.

Lunch at Manna Korean BBQ was an all-you-can-eat, cook-at-your-table affair. While sitting here it dawned on me that I only search for Korean Restaurants in Phoenix, not Korean BBQ. It turns out that a different search term presents different results. One might think that Korean BBQ is Korean food, but you’d be wrong, just as I was. My search results let me know that Manna BBQ has a few locations in Phoenix, and Gen Korean BBQ, where I ate in Huntington Beach after dropping Dion and Ylva at LAX, has a presence in the Phoenix area as well. I also learned that the menus are slightly different, as California diners want a more authentic Korean meal while Arizonans are sadly looking for a blander offering.

I wonder what’s preoccupying me or distracting me that I’m finding the process of writing difficult. If I were at an emotional degree left or right, I could slip into the fear of this being a more serious affliction, and that my words are entangled somewhere I cannot find them. Maybe it’s too easy to get caught up in observing the positives of what’s going on around me. There are people on vacation, playing chess or cards, working crossword puzzles, and talking about business ideas. I’m distracted by the diversity that is non-hostile. Nobody is out by themselves; they are with others. In a sense, I’m taken by the positivity, and so there’s a thought that I’ve simply not adapted to the climate around me yet and how different it is from the unhappiness I see in Arizona.

San Diego has Zonies, which are the Arizona equivalent of Snowbirds. Over the summer, the influx of vacationers from Arizona is so apparent that they are considered a summer phenomenon and are met with a certain amount of disdain. Just as the Snowbirds contribute to heavier traffic and busier restaurants, those who escape the desert heat are a large part of the congestion that occurs here along the coast from June through the end of August. Funny how the quality of life can feel intruded upon when the returning presence of a particular demographic becomes obvious within one’s community. This is happening more and more as humanity achieves greater mobility and funds to transplant themselves to more desirable places.

I’m bored as I sit here in San Diego on my fourth full-day house-sitting. It’s Sunday morning, and although it’s beautiful outside the idea of heading to the beach for a walk is met with the resistance I feel in having to deal with parking. Then there’s the food along the shore that’s generic fare that best satisfies the palates of visitors on vacation and is priced accordingly. More interesting eats are found south of me and inland, where diversity has taken up residence. The economic conformity that attracts ethnic isolation makes for a giant plate of boring. After sitting here in my nearest Starbucks, as there are no other coffee shops, I have nothing besides more frustration at how little my immediate environment offers me.

I’m at Szechuan Chef and the place is packed mostly with Chinese people and three white people, of which I’m one. Being a creature of some habit, I ordered spicy cabbage, Szechuan water-boiled fish, and some shrimp dumplings. If you are wondering if I’m anticipating leftovers, I am. A couple with a newborn baby is dining next to me; I wish they weren’t. The lady is watching a soap opera on her phone, and while it’s certainly loud in here, the tinny sound of her phone speakers is cutting through the noise and into my desire to be civil. Watching this couple shovel their food as though they were at a trough is unsettling, so I’ll try to focus on something, anything else. I’m noticing that even the couples have far too much food for two people to eat, so I shouldn’t feel out of place having ordered so many dishes. I’m hoping to be impressed with the food, and if how crowded the place is is an indicator, I should be fine.

Lunch was spectacular, with every part of my meal hitting almost every mark. The water-boiled fish could have benefited from a lot more Szechuan pepper, also known as mala, but other than that, I gladly took home my leftovers.

Something else came along with lunch I didn’t expect, and for a moment, it lifted my funk. This could have easily been attributed to my finding comfort in eating, but I think it was something different. That difference is that I was among a bunch of people noisily enjoying each other’s company while sharing a meal. Not just any meal either but a sumptuous spread where every table had far too much food on it. Maybe part of the charm is that I couldn’t eavesdrop on anyone complaining because they were speaking Chinese, but if they were lamenting their routine, they were doing so with an abundance of laughter.

This brings me to the question, why am I in a funk in San Diego by myself while when I was in Germany just a few months ago on my own too, I was never at a loss of what to do with my time? I’m going to go out on a limb and blame it on an underlying sense of unhappiness I believe I’m picking up on from white Americans. There is nothing to work on, no dream, and no aspiration. There is only toil, systemic unfairness, violence, along with economic and career uncertainty. If you are Chinese or Hindu in America, you are likely pretty certain that your opportunities are great, while if you are Hispanic and legal, you too have a certain amount of confidence that your situation will only get better or stay the same.

If you are a white American, you are either still angry at Obama and Hillary, or now you are angry with Trump and what you could perceive as rising fascism. You might be angry about the cost of your health care or in fear of losing it or never being able to afford it. Maybe you are angry that your savings are non-existent and there is no safety net for you like there is for banks, automobile manufacturers, large corporations, or minority communities that help each other. Could it be guns that make you angry or the anger that arises from your fear that someone might want to take them away?

Anger seems rife in America among the majority population, or at least it feels that way to me. I’m not happy to be around those with the same skin color as me unless I’m in Europe. Europeans are at least building Europe and trying to figure out what that is; we, on the other hand, have lost what it is to be American besides being pissed off. Our President is the perfect exemplar of this as he shows us that he’s mad about everything, including the fake media, an untrustworthy intelligence community, lying Hillary, a federal reserve that won’t bend to his will, anti-fascists attacking some good people, companies acting as traitors by laying people off, trading partners ripping us off, and starving people escaping violence in their communities by supplying us with the illegal drugs we need.

With all the pain, we are committing suicide at the rate of 123 people per day, or more per month than died on 9/11. Then, another 130 people per day are dying from opioid overdoses. Forty million American adults are taking anti-depressants, with a handful of those overdosing on their prescription drugs. Almost 14 million Americans have a drinking problem, with 8 million of those being alcoholics. Why are we so unhappy?

We have no certainty about staying on the treadmill of prosperity. If we get sick, we could be bankrupted; if we send our kids to school or we attend a concert, someone we love might die. Some of us are so frightened by a coup or insane government we feel that armed resistance or at least being prepared for it is our best bet for surviving the zombie apocalypse.

Awake is not what we are. Sports trivia is not family. Game of Thrones is not socializing. Fast food is not health care. A Costco card is not retirement savings. Your car is not a hobby, your continuing education, or a real example of how amazing you want others to believe you to be. But you cannot reconcile any of this because, as an American, you are a composite of shallow nothings that you have come to believe give you character and identity.

Korean Stuffed Fish Bun

JWise Food, Photo of the Day

Stuffed fish bun with ice cream from Somi Somi in San Diego, California

A cheating day here on Monday as I stopped at a Korean dessert shop called Somi Somi and indulged with a bun shaped like a fish, stuffed with custard, and topped with vanilla soft serve. I could have opted for matcha, tea, or ube (purple yam, pictured) soft serve flavors along with a host of other fillings such as Nutella, red bean, or taro. Happily, nothing was too sweet nor too big. While I tried the most “bland” concoction, I’ll have to bring Caroline over here as I’m pretty sure she’d enjoy trying the ube and taro in her fish pocket.

Convoy Street here on the northside of San Diego is a mecca for all things Asian. I can’t begin to count how many various Asian restaurants and bakeries dot this street and some of the surrounding streets carry on the theme. With the diversity come options for tasting things I’ll never find in Lebanon, Kansas, where the 200 people that live there have but a small grocery store and really about nothing else. Of course, to afford options in America where flavors and the culture of the world are found you’ll pay for the luxury of living there as the cost of living is usually exorbitant.

Sea Grass on the Seashore

JWise Photo of the Day

Sea Grass in San Diego, California

Not a sandpiper in sight but the curlew, seagull, and occasional pelican make random appearances. The marine layer hung out longer this morning but that’s the norm in summer when inland temperatures are getting hotter. Along with it, low clouds and spots of fog can linger till near midday.

Plenty of surfers are out in the water but nary a swimmer. There are no seashells, no sea monsters, more helicopters than boats, but there is no Caroline. A solitary cormorant frantically flaps its wings as it maneuvers up the coast, alone like me.

As the sun burns a hole through the overcast sky to the sea a speckled curlew on its descent opens its wings wide with its orange-ish tan and brown colors standing in contrast to the teal water and white surf. Just before the bird sets down there’s a quick flutter of its wings and then it plops down to start looking for signs of food.

Small clumps of seaweed and seagrass dot the line between wet and dry sand while further up the shore large piles of decaying sea plants attract the flies. With the sun quickly evaporating the shade I’m feeling vulnerable to the burning that while taking place even when overcast, is made worse by direct sunlight. Seems like a good time to take Drake on another walk.

23:30

JWise Photo of the Day

Painting supplies from Dion Terry in San Diego, California

It’s late and I’m too tired to write something meaningful. It’s been a productive day though it feels as though I spent the majority of it driving Dion and Ylva up to Los Angeles to catch their flight to Stockholm, Sweden. After a very late lunch of Korean BBQ in Huntington Beach, I sleepily finished off my drive in heavy traffic back to Solana Beach.

Drake the Dog and I went for a couple of walks; I took one to the grocery store by myself and then busied myself with stuff that gave me a good workout. With Friday nearly at hand, I’m hoping for a more of a “John” day of walking around, writing, thinking, taking some photos, more time with Drake, and hopefully something random or other. For now, though I need to try to fall asleep in another unfamiliar bed and, while it’s a pleasant 65 degrees outside, the humidity is raging at 91% which I’m so unfamiliar with that I’m sweating worse than when I’m home in Phoenix and it’s 50 degrees hotter.

I drift off to sleep with the soft sound of the delicate crickets chirping in the background as opposed to the Arizona type that bleat and bark.

Lost 40 Degrees

JWise Photo of the Day

Del Mar in Southern California

With some reluctance, I drove west until I could go no further. I’m here in Del Mar just north of San Diego, but I’m here without Caroline. This is where the reluctance comes in because I agreed to be a house sitter and watch Drake the Dog while a couple of friends head over to Sweden for some vacation. It’s not that I’m reluctant to watch the dog and chill in the cool coastal air found over here, but without Caroline, the experience will be bittersweet.

When I finally got out of Phoenix the mercury was heading north and by the time I was about halfway to the ocean, it was a solid 116 degrees or about 47c. Here at the seashore, a pleasant 76 degrees greeted me; the 40-degree difference in temperature made for a stark contrast from the desert I was in just about 90 minutes prior.

Los Angeles

JWise Photo of the Day

Caroline Wise at Cafe Gunul 2 in Los Angeles, California

It’s time to renew Caroline’s German passport and the only place to do that nearby is over in Los Angeles at the German Consulate. With an appointment for early Monday morning and not a lot found to entertain us this weekend we were in no rush to make the drive to California. So on Saturday morning we woke without the assistance of the alarm, straightened up our place so we’d return to a relatively clean apartment, and headed out for breakfast and the nearly six-hour drive west.

Upon arrival in Los Angeles, trying to deal with the aggressive driving, we were hungry and in need of a break. We knew well beforehand that we’d be stopping in at Cafe Gunul 2 for some army stew. After our visit here almost exactly a year ago when we first indulged on this Korean fusion comfort food we said we’d return for the stew that takes upwards of 30 minutes to prepare. Turns out that at 2:00 in the afternoon it only takes minutes for your gallon pot of tofu, sausage, spam, pork belly, ramen noodles, squash, mushrooms, kimchi, and cheese to be brought to your table while it is still nearly boiling. It was well worth the visit and agree that we wouldn’t mind sharing it again.

John Wise in reflection

This being summer finding a hotel at the last minute last week wasn’t easy plus I wanted us to be near the Consulate so we’d not have to deal with trying to cross even a small corner of this city on a Monday morning. Our couple of nights would be taken near the corners of Western and Wilshire Boulevards which was only about 3.5 miles east of Monday’s appointment. With our inertia having come to a complete stop following our trough of army stew, the last thing we wanted to do was venture out, but it was still so early in the afternoon it was silly to consider collapsing and so off to coffee we went. The photo is a screenshot of some synth related stuff that has to do with “Grainz” that I received while hanging out at Starbucks.

Korean Shopping Center in Los Angeles, California

For years we’ve been using smartphones but still, I’m enchanted by talking to my phone asking it for the nearest something or other, and its ability to zero in on making suggestions that are close to my current location. Today I was inquiring about a theater and a small place only five minutes away was at the top of the list. Turns out that it was a Korean theater showing The Lion King, not exactly what I had in mind. The film we ended up watching wasn’t something I had in mind either but the total lack of awareness about it was intriguing. The movie was called, “The King’s Letters” and though it was in Korean it was subtitled, sort of. I say that because the translation was sketchy at points. The story followed a thread of how the written Korean language might have been created.

Korean fast food in Los Angeles, California

Army stew, coffee, a film we’d never be able to watch in Phoenix, and then some shopping and snacking (pictured: egg, shrimp, and cheese on toast) in an Asian-centric outdoor mall made for a perfect Saturday in Los Angeles. Then there was also that dessert of cream puffs at Beard Papa’s. I have to admit that we were uncertain about leaving Arizona as in the days before our departure we couldn’t find anything to do over in Southern California but spontaneity and our interest in most all things (not including professional sports) let us be fully entertained with our choices.

Rothem and Liam in Los Angeles, California

Come Sunday we needed to wake early as the decision to avoid L.A. traffic had been made so we’d keep our car in the garage and walk where we wanted to go. Before leaving Phoenix the one thing that had been fixed on was meeting the Bravermans for breakfast. They suggested a place called Republique on La Brea which worked out fine for us as it was only 2.5 miles from our hotel. Liam, their 4-month old new baby boy was the toast of breakfast. While we talked about the general tensions of living in Los Angeles we mostly focused on Itay and Rotem’s new roles as parents and how many people have offered bad or unwanted advice on how to be a parent.

To the consternation of the bussers in uber-trendy hipster Republique, who by 10:00 had a line of probably 50 people down the sidewalk, we were there to camp out and catch up with our friends. After nearly 3 hours at our table, we couldn’t take the subtle harassment anymore and finally relinquished our grip and left.

Los Angeles, California

That was supposed to be it for visiting these friends who became a family in the intervening months since we last met, but after Caroline and I continued our walk north up La Brea stopping for coffee on the corner with Santa Monica Blvd., Itay reached out inviting us over should we be in the area this afternoon. Well, we were just a mile around the corner at this point. By 2:00 p.m. we were once again meeting with the Braverman family.

Liam Braverman in Los Angeles, California

Mother’s milk, computers, mixed drinks, strong coffee, social issues surrounding politics, and family dynamics took us in conversation up to the early evening when hunger got us moving towards the exit. Not having eaten since breakfast I took Itay up on his offer to give us a ride back towards our hotel where a host of Korean BBQs with all-you-can-eat menus were found all over our neighborhood. Stuffed we waddled back to our hotel with hopes of getting to sleep early for our 8:00 a.m. appointment down the street.

Believe it or not, on Monday morning we had breakfast at McDonald’s and then in the blink of an eye, we were in and out of the consulate and just as quickly on our way back to Arizona.