What’s Next for the SD Wave Without Alex Morgan?

Before, during, and after the Fourth of July, San Diegans can commemorate America’s 250th anniversary with an abundance of stars, stripes and local celebrations. America The Beautiful: 250 at The Rady Shell and Lamb’s Players Theatre’s revival of American Rhythm will look back at the many songs which define our country. Liberty Station’s Anchored in Freedom celebration and the Independence Day Carnival offer community-centered fun and loads of family-friendly activities. And who can possibly forget the Big Bay Boom, which will resume its reign over San Diego Bay as the state’s biggest fireworks show. Outside of the holiday festivities, this week brings the yearly return of Little Italy’s Summer Sera and the Athenaeum Summer Festival, as well as a slate of championship matches for All Elite Wrestling.  

Food & Drink | Concerts & Festivals | Theater & Art Exhibits | More Fun Things to Do

Food & Drink Events in San Diego This Weekend

Sunset & Spritz at 5 O’Clock Somewhere Bar 

July 3

Sip on refreshing beverages and savor a panoramic rooftop view this Friday from 6-8 p.m. during the 21-plus Sunset & Spritz at Margaritaville Hotel San Diego Gaslamp Quarter’s 5 O’Clock Somewhere Bar. There will be a live DJ (until 9 p.m.), appetizers, pool and cabana access, a photo booth, and a cash bar (until 11 p.m.). To accentuate the summer theme, guests are invited to dress in white, pink, and orange attire. Tickets are $29 and come with a welcome aperol spritz. 

616 J Street, Gaslamp

The 250 Grand Tasting Menu at Amaya

July 3 & 4

Bring a patriotic palette to the Fairmont Grand Del Mar for The 250 Grand Tasting Menu at Amaya this Friday and Saturday from 5-8:30 p.m. Patrons will be treated to a five-course tasting menu, curated to exhibit a selection of standout regional flavors and culinary concepts that have shaped our country’s distinct food heritage. The meal will also include beverage pairings with each course, such as wine, cocktails, and artisanal drinks. Reservations are $330 per person (with tax and 20% gratuity) on OpenTable. 

5300 Grand Del Mar Court, Del Mar

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Concerts & Festivals in San Diego This Weekend

Don Toliver at Pechanga Arena

June 30

Don Toliver thrives at being the life of the party (and the “After Party”). His fifth album Octane, released in February, is indicative of his thrill-seeking nature. As with his earlier releases, Octane sees Toliver operating in the space between hip-hop and R&B, with warbling vocals and blaring beats that are best heard at a high volume. This Tuesday at 7:30 p.m., Toliver will play at Pechanga Arena, with rappers SoFaygo, Chase B and SahBabii—who had a guest verse on Octane standout “K9”—as special guests. Tickets start at $156 for this concert. 

3500 Sports Arena Boulevard, Midway

Blockbuster Broadway! at The Rady Shell

July 3

What makes musicals like Wicked, Cats, Chicago, and Jersey Boys so timeless is the legion of excellent songs that makes fans out of those who’ve never even watched the show. This Friday at 7:30 p.m. during Blockbuster Broadway! at The Rady Shell, conductor Evan Roider, the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, and veteran vocalists Alex Getlin, Jessica Hendy, Scott Coulter, and John Boswell (also on piano) will perform an all-star theater soundtrack. In addition to the shows named above, audiences can expect songs from A Chorus Line, The Phantom of the Opera, Annie, and more. Tickets range from $57 to $129 for this concert.

222 Marina Park Way, Embarcadero

America The Beautiful: 250 at The Rady Shell

July 4

One night after recognizing the brilliance of Broadway, The Rady Shell will ring in the United States’ landmark anniversary with America The Beautiful: 250 this Saturday at 7:30 p.m. Conductor Byron Stripling, joined by a five-performer ensemble and the San Diego Symphony Orchestra, will lead a night of ballads that best resemble the red, white, and blue, including songs sourced from the Great American Songbook. After the show, concertgoers are invited to watch the nearby Big Bay Boom from their seats. Tickets range from $71 to $139 for this concert. 

222 Marina Park Way, Embarcadero

Athenaeum Summer Festival at Athenaeum Music & Arts Library

Sundays from July 5-26

There’s a famous video.

“This is insane!” the guy filming it seems to proclaim. “It’s the best fireworks show ever!” a companion confirms, inspiring a debate lasting over a decade.

All told, 7,000 fireworks exploded in the span of 25 seconds over San Diego Bay on July 4, 2012. A Michael Bay amount of unison. $125,000 worth of shells, cakes, Roman candles, and skyrockets had been placed on a barge—enough for 17 minutes of decorative sky flares—and…

Boom.

The sky looked like someone had set a giant Rorschach test on fire. Or as if whatever we all see in our Rorschachs—butterflies, clowns, tongue kissing, dads—was being electrocuted and lifted heavenward, amen. It was shocking how bright it was, how much it sizzled the local cosmos. Could’ve been one of those sci-fi films where a hole is ripped open between warring universes. But angstier, more metal—the work of some methy creator in a sleeveless concert tee.

The sound?

Lou Reed once released an entire album that contained 64 minutes of mindflaying guitar screeches and machine noises. No regular songs, just a fascinating amount of ear distress. His record label reps no doubt heard the melodic outro of their careers, but everyone else was in pain and stumped. That album still sounded better than the bay did that night. The bay sounded like a god who struggled with emotional regulation had blown his speakers and was working through the anger stage of AV grief.

In the left frame of the video, a middle-aged woman is attempting to drag her husband off by the hand. In no way does he want to go, possibly because he had missed the time Roseanne Barr sung the national anthem at a Padres game, simultaneously disemboweling and amusing America through the power of song. He would not willingly abandon an equally worthy San Diego trainwreck.

Another woman in the video appears to have just filled her beer, rushing to sit down for the show. She pauses mid-sit and returns to the full and upright position to properly bear witness. What was supposed to be prolonged entertainment has been so radically shortened that she will have to find another reason to drink. Lucky for her, drinking will be the only way to adequately process.

Locals remember the conspiracy theories. People wondered if the fuses had been tripped by a saboteur who was sympathetic to dogs, fish, or the growing suspicion that late-stage capitalism is a gorgeously branded but impossible dream sustained by remarkably efficient top-tier wealth retention and the soft compliance of fireworks-watchers who can no longer afford a house, a beer, or the personal impacts of human reproduction.

Speaking of being terrified of babies, babies were terrified. The children who witnessed it probably still can’t go near a candle store. But those kids will be tougher, perfectly scarred kids. They’ll write better songs.

That night helped us absolutely dominate the national news cycle. For a hot minute, we became America’s water-skiing squirrel. Now, years later, when you Google “fireworks gone wrong,” San Diego is always a top contender, along with that poor Nebraska family who nearly wiped out a couple generations in their front yard, their minivan somehow turning into a howitzer of recreational TNT.

There is still debate as to whether Big Bay Boom 2012 is the worst or greatest fireworks show of all time. But the advanced parts of civilization arrived at the truth as quickly as the women in the video did. It was undeniably amazing.

First of all, the point of Fourth of July fireworks isn’t “the intricate choreography of sky fire over a guaranteed amount of show time.” It’s about creating a vivid memory shared with some people you like, love, or would like to love.

BBB2012 used large-scale chemical fire to create the ultimate memory.

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Sure, some people who iron their jeans subjected their family to a sermon about how San Diego managed to botch America’s birthday like a Disney princess-for-hire who smelled of quite a few Sauvignons.

The rest of us saw how perfectly it nailed the actual feeling of being an American. Because only a miniscule percentage of us bake postcard apple pies where every inch of crust is perfectly laminated like the wood in an Irish bar. Very few of us can paint on par with Picasso. The rest of us—despite truly believing in our America-activated abilities to achieve greatness in almost any field of our choosing—burn pies. We try to paint only to realize it looks like our fine motor skills have entered active death.

That’s why BBB2012 was the most perfectly American fireworks show ever: A wildly ambitious idea galvanized thousands upon thousands of people to both work on it and come to hold a beer and gawk at it, only to have it fail in the most glorious TMZ-level spectacle.

America isn’t about immaculate, storyless wins. It’s about how the framework of a country is solid enough that we can accidentally detonate our entire lives—a few times—and still probably be OK.

No one has America’d quite like San Diego did on that day. It was performance art. Lou Reed’s heart slow-clapped. Any brief municipal embarrassment quickly became a pride of our people. I can only hope the same for the Nebraskan yard family whose Dodge Aerostar became a hyperactive Death Star.

P.S. Local writer Maya Kroth compiled a quite great oral history of that night for Thrillist. The bottom lines for me were—it took nine months to prepare, no one was hurt, and even though the pyrotechnics company tried to zero out the bill, Big Bay Boom founder H. P. “Sandy” Purdon refused and paid them in full. This year will mark the 25th Anniversary of the yearly Big Bay Boom.

Summer has officially kicked off, and San Diego is celebrating the sunny season with a myriad of fun events. From San Diego Pride week and a fairytale performance at Civic Theatre to a Santigold concert and Comic-Con, there are dozens of opportunities to make memories worth adding to your scrapbook. Here are all the best things to do in San Diego this July:

Concerts & Festivals | Theater & Art Exhibits | More Fun Things to Do

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Concerts & Festivals in San Diego This Month

3

Divine inspirations, operatic ballads, and symphonic pop production elevate Rosalía’s Lux to heavenly levels. Hear angelic vocals ascend—in up to 13 languages—during her performance at Pechanga Arena.

15

Enjoy a night of feel-good indie rock and sing-along anthems at the Cal Coast Credit Union Open Air Theatre courtesy of Young the Giant and special guest Cold War Kids.

29

Santigold collects genres like gold stars: musical accouterments that brighten her uniquely alternative sound. See her live in concert with dancehall producer Troy Baker Sound at Humphreys Concerts by the Bay.

Theater & Art Exhibits in San Diego This Month

7–12

Be the Civic Theatre’s guest for “Beauty and the Beast” and discover that a fairytale love sometimes lies beneath the surface.

10–12

Two male government workers pursue a secret romance amid the Lavender Scare in the San Diego Opera’s production of “Fellow Travelers” at the Balboa Theatre.

7/11–8/1

The deep blue sea is home to countless ecological treasures, including the remarkable marine organisms documented by Oriana Poindexter. Study her educational and experimental imagery at The Photographer’s Eye via Field Notes.

7/11–1/10/27

Audrey Hepburn. Marlon Brando. Salvador Dalí. What do these icons have in common? Each was the enigmatic focus of a Cecil Beaton portrait. Step inside Cecil Beaton’s Fashionable World, an alluring showcase of 20th-century style at San Diego Museum of Art.

More Fun Things to Do in San Diego This Month

1

The Little Italy Mercato will trade morning rays for golden-hour glow through its free Summer Sera, an expansion of the neighborhood’s farmers market with live music, artisanal finds, and a fetching amount of pet activities.

11–19

San Diego Pride week starts with a Dyke March and ends with the two-day “Pride Shines On” festival. The days in between? Run a 5K, march in the parade, visit the rainbow-lit St. Paul’s Episcopal Cathedral, and more.

19

Dress up for a Mediterranean-themed tea time at the Estancia La Jolla, a laid-back yet refined afternoon planned for the resort’s monthly Tea in the Garden series.

23–26

Nerd culture’s biggest gathering returns to the Convention Center. San Diego Comic-Con welcomes fans of everything from comic book cinema to ultra-rare collectibles for panels, exhibits, sneak peeks, and much more.

You’re coasting home after a weekend in Rosarito Beach—still riding the high of vitamin D and Baja Med—and then comes a slap back into reality: brakelights and gridlock exhaust.

Small wonder, given that San Ysidro is the busiest land border crossing in the western hemisphere (fourth-busiest in the world). Otay Mesa’s no breeze either; it’s the busiest commercial port in California and second-busiest across the entire southern border. Smart Border Coalition says that each day last year, 41,800 vehicles crossed into the US at San Ysidro; 17,800 crossed at Otay Mesa, along with 1,023,000 commercial trucks.

Diana Pazos, a San Diego resident and adolescent psychiatrist working in Tijuana, says the northbound border wait at the San Ysidro crossing is often three to five hours Saturday through Monday—delays that modern humans and multinational maquiladoras alike aren’t built to endure. At the current Otay crossing, “commercial trucks may be in line for six hours or longer,” she says.

Needing to bake a couple hours of commute into the States doesn’t just affect vacations; tens of thousands of people cross the border each day for doctor’s appointments, work, school, you name it. The clog has personal and commercial ramifications.

But change is coming. Construction has begun on a new border crossing in Otay Mesa, which is expected to significantly reduce wait times across all San Diego border crossings, bolster binational trade, and improve the air pollution levels in the area.

Nikki Tiongco, an 18-year Caltrans veteran who oversees the Otay Mesa East project (aka Otay 2) for the agency, says the new border crossing will also be among the most high-tech, efficient, and secure border crossings in the nation.

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“We have already completed the roadway network within the Otay Mesa East region,” says Tiongco. Part of this project included building State Route 11, an extension of SR 905, which has been open to the public since August and will feed traffic to the new entry port. Otay 2 comes with a 21st century upgrade, too. Miles of fiber-optic cables have been installed underground, which gives the port the brainpower to efficiently sort and streamline traffic as cars approach the border. (Unlike the San Ysidro border, where lanes get organized by vehicle type, Otay 2’s lanes will be interchangeable. For example, if the system indicates that a high number of commercial trucks is heading to the border, passenger lanes could be converted to cargo lanes in real time.)

Otay 2, driven by a binational collaboration among government agencies (Caltrans, SANDAG, General Services Administration, and U.S. Customs and Border Protection), receives both federal and state funding, plus hefty contributions from Mexico. So far, funds from the $1.3 billion project have helped build new bridges and roadway interchanges that will guide traffic to the crossing. At this stage in the process, Caltrans is “laser-focused on building the facility itself,” Tiongco says.

Now, to the juicy part: the prospect of a “20-to-30-minute border wait time” at Otay 2, according to Tiongco. Currently, there are three standard ways to cross the border at San Ysidro: Ready Lanes, General Lanes, or SENTRI Lanes. Most travelers use either the Ready or General lanes. SENTRI Lanes require a form of pre-approval from the US federal government plus an additional fee. According to CBP, the average wait time in 2025 at the San Ysidro crossing, was as little as 15 minutes in the SENTRI Lanes, 45 minutes in the Ready Lanes, and 1.5 to 2 hours in the General Lanes. Those are best-case scenarios that vary based on lane type and time of day.

Otay 2 is about 12 miles east of the San Ysidro crossing and 2.5 miles east of Otay 1. Those not wanting to spend that much extra time on the road to drive to the new border crossing, despite the allure of an under-30-minute wait, are still expected to see some benefits. Tiongco says Otay 2 will “provide a relief valve” overall by spreading the burden across the three border crossings. As a result, SANDAG says, wait times at San Ysidro and Otay 1 could be cut in half.

It’s not just your time waiting at the border that matters. Multinational corporations that relocated their manufacturing plants (maquiladoras) to Northern Baja have claimed for years that the long delays at Otay 1 eat away at their profits. More than 600 maquiladoras, used by companies such as Samsung and Panasonic, currently use Otay 1 to transport products to US and international markets. Ambassador Alicia G. Kerber-Palma, the consul general of Mexico in San Diego, says the project will facilitate more than $60 billion in cross-border trade annually.

Previous reports say that Otay 2 also has the capacity for around 12,000 passenger cars and 1,500 commercial trucks daily. A shiny, new element to this port: Commercial and personal vehicles that choose to cross will pay a dynamic toll on both sides of the border. The fee will increase during busy hours and decrease during slower periods, Tiongco says. Caltrans estimates that the toll could range from $4 to $30 for passenger vehicles and higher for commercial trucks. Drivers will be able to see current rates before they reach the actual border crossing.

And, with these changes, there are environmental benefits, too. “With shorter wait times at all three ports, there’s less idling and congestion, which should significantly reduce air pollution on both sides of the border,” says Kerber-Palma. The main factor driving improved air quality would be decreasing dirty emissions from idling diesel trucks. This county’s air could use some sprucing up, anyway. A 2026 report from the American Lung Association named San Diego as the fifth-most particle-polluted county in the US. The bulk of that dirty air comes from the heavy-duty trucks and ships that pass through the area.

Otay 2 is not only expected to curb the acceleration of air pollution in San Diego; if the state’s legislature passes California Senate Bill 10, the border crossing could also restore local water quality. This bill would use a portion of Otay 2 toll revenues to fund ongoing maintenance of the South Bay International Wastewater Treatment Plant. Current media reports say, however, that it’s increasingly unlikely that SB 10 will become law.

Otay 2 has been in the works for over two decades and is finally nearing the finish line. Construction estimates show that it should be up and running in 2029. Tiongco says this border crossing is “a good example of how the state, federal and local governments are working together and with Mexico to advance our mutual goals in the region.”

Edna Harper asked for one thing before she died: that the next owner of her iconic Mission Hills home keep the street-facing “garden.” Which is essentially asking the future residents to be curators of a whimsical and obsessive, delightful and strange, classic, cartoony and slightly unhinged sculpture museum. Harper, who died in January at the age of 87, poured her heart into this topiary bonanza, and it’s right there for everyone to see.

Like thousands (or millions, there’s no formal estimation) of others, I had scrolled through the photos of this topiary fantasia before I ever stood in front of it. As of this writing, Harper’s Topiary Garden is No. 227 of 2,686 Things to Do in San Diego on Tripadvisor, making it a popular tourist stop between fish tacos, a day at the beach, and a stroll in nearby Presidio Park. But crowdsourced photos quickly snapped in direct overhead sunlight tend to flatten the shapes that, while meticulously manicured, refuse to behave. In person, Harper’s figures seem to be in motion and, given that they’re sculpted out of bushes, they literally are. (I’d love to see a maintenance timelapse.)

Animals emerge out of shrubs as if they have impish ideas. A fanciful whale, a man in a sombrero, a random spiral twisting skyward, otherworldly creatures that defy categorization—all of these exist together in a neatly trimmed cascade pouring down the steep front slope of the property.

You don’t accidentally end up with a yard like this. You decide to create it and choose to cultivate it, and then you keep deciding and cultivating—for decades.

Although a consistent parade of looky-loos have visited over the years, most have never been inside the home, which is on the market for the first time since Harper and her husband, Alex (who died in 2020), bought it in 1969.

“It was and is a landmark,” says Christopher Delgado, Harper’s cousin and trustee of her estate. “She specialized in Chinese brush art and Japanese art called ‘sumi-e,’ a form of Zen art. She was a creator … she was very, very talented.”

I can’t stop thinking about Harper, sitting at the kitchen window, looking down at her masterpiece and the watchers watching it. The image of Harper enjoying the joy the public took from her handiwork makes me want to understand the woman behind the work. Because topiary, as an art form, has always been a little… loaded.

Topiary has always had a bit of an identity crisis—and that’s part of its charm.

When I think of topiary, I immediately think: Fancy. French bourgeoisie. Palace of Versailles. Mais non! Topiary has its origins in Rome. According to the Center for Architecture, the word “topiary” has its origins in late 16th century English, which combines the Greek word “topos” for place and the Latin word “topiarius” for ornamental gardner.

Topiary started as a flex, really. A Julius-Caesar-adjacent pastime for the most ancient one-percenters; an expression accessible only to those with land, labor (or, put more plainly, enslaved people), and spare time. In its earliest form, topiary was about control: bending nature into submission. It’s where symmetry and precision signaled order, taste, and money.

But with the collapse of the Roman Empire and the Dark Ages that followed, the topiary almost preceded the Dodo Bird in extinction. Monks quietly kept the art alive by growing herbs and manicuring the gardens and hedges within the courtyards of their monasteries.

It wasn’t until the Renaissance nine centuries later when topiary saw a resurgence—ah, Versailles!—and this form of pleasure gardening went into overdrive. Nature became architecture. The French pruned their foliage into iconic cones and obelisks, walls to keep out the riffraff, and ornamentation designed to impress. The Dutch got a little freaky, as they do, and sculpted complicated figures, animals, and even furniture.

Inevitably, the pendulum swung again, and topiary fell out of favor once it became viewed as excessive and even absurd. Even so, it never really disappeared. It just migrated to exist in a completely different paradigm. It was less Versailles and more, “What if this bush were a mouse?”

Fast forward to Disneyland in 1963. That year, the park opened a topiary garden in Fantasyland with verdant sculptures of giraffes, camels, elephants, and hippos all inspired by Denmark’s Tivoli Gardens.

Disney’s interpretation of topiary—which is still a fixture of park decor today—falls more into the realm of imagination and possibility than restrained aristocratic performance.

That’s one of the stranger throughlines of topiary: It moves from elite to everyday, from stiff and formal to playful and silly, from symbol of control to something steeped in personal expression.

Which is what makes a place like Harper’s Topiary Garden so compelling and the woman behind it utterly intriguing.

Born in 1938, Edna Harper was something of a Renaissance woman. She worked for two decades as a dental assistant, and she later became a notable painter, calligrapher, and stained glass artist (the house itself is adorned with her work). But she was also savvy in other ways.

“She graduated [with a degree in dental assisting] from San Diego City College and wanted to have her own money and her independence,” says Delgado. “Most people didn’t know that she was such a great businessperson, and for many years, she managed all of [the couple’s] properties on her own. She was great at building relationships … she touched a lot of people’s lives.”

Her friend and fellow artist Julie Roth attributes her artistry to her relationship with Harper. The pair met two decades ago at an art class at Oasis in Mission Valley.

“She was just the most encouraging person,” Roth says. “I didn’t know I could paint, but apparently I can. She was a tremendous person.”

I asked Roth what she’d want people to know about her friend.

“Her empathy and diplomacy,” she says. “[She had] a sharp eye for other talent. She spotted me, but I’m not the only one she encouraged.”

That sharp eye suggests attention, the same kind it takes to look at a bush and also see a whale. Or a spiral. Or something that doesn’t exist yet, but could.

Nothing about Harper’s life suggests someone chasing attention. And yet, she ended up creating something that demanded hers, and she took great pleasure in seeing people enjoy her creations.

The garden didn’t happen all at once. It grew out of years of travel, observation, and collaboration. Harper often traveled without her husband, always returning from trips to Japan, Thailand, and other parts of Asia with ideas and impressions captured through sketches in a notebook.

“She would get creative ideas from her travels … she’d come back with ideas and pictures, and they’d go about cutting that topiary bush into shape,” Delgado says.

For the past 25 years, she had the help of her gardener, Pedro Duran—who’s still employed by the trust and has maintained the garden since Harper’s passing.

In the early topiary years, Harper worked closely with Duran in what Delgado describes as a kind of shared “labor of love.” She would share her sketches and together the pair would shape the bushes into something deliberate.

“As she got older, she would increasingly draw her ideas and [Duran] would [carry them out],” Delgado says.

That collaboration reinforces that her garden was not an act of control, but one of creative collaboration and translation. From memory to sketch. From sketch to shrub. From something seen, somewhere else in the world, to something rooted in the soil of a steep hillside in Mission Hills.

Harper also made sure that the lawn’s boisterous energy made its way into the house on Union Street. Apparently, she threw legendary parties.

“Fairly regularly, in the late ’70s and ’80s, she would host Super Bowl parties with 200 people. She had TVs everywhere,” Delgado says.

It’s not hard to square that image with the stillness of the garden which, despite the careful pruning and intentional design, is voluminous and nearly vibrating.

And, damnit, I wish I’d watched some sportsball on her shocking number of TVs and wandered out front to the topiary—slightly wine-drunk with an orange smear of wing sauce on the corner of my mouth—to marvel at the leafy hippo and this woman’s elaborately creative life.

I can hear Delgado smiling as we talk on the phone. He’s going back to his childhood, when he talks about being one of the cousins Harper doted on when he visited.

“The adults were inside, and we’d be out in the camper,” he says, “and [Harper] would come check on us, make sure we were okay. She always had gifts for us. If it was Easter, there were chocolate eggs. If it was Christmas, stockings. We were the beneficiaries of them not having kids because they showered us with all their love.”

Knowing this and taking a look at her garden again, you can see it’s not the work of a shut-away curmudgeon. It’s wondrous, inviting, and the right kind of weird.

“Ultimately, she did it for herself and family, first and foremost,” Delgado says of Harper’s Topiary Garden.

Harper’s one request of whomever buys her home may seem like a focus on basic maintenance, about hedges and upkeep and preserving something visually striking. But it’s really about attention. And maybe, too, about legacy. Not hers, per se, but the legacy of community, relationships, art, creativity, possibility, adventure, culture, dedication, and love.

For now, it’s there for anyone to see, and its future is in the hands of whomever comes next.