“The first thing I did when I came to this country was go to a department store and squeeze the Charmin,” says Martin Short. “I had to know.”
The new mayor is sitting next to me at a professional, un-contagious distance, wearing purple sparkly shoes (rhinestones? A glittery mirage of unfathomable political power?). His purple suit is elegant yet playful, inhabiting a world somewhere between a nicely tailored Crown Royal bag and the singing dinosaur with obvious inflammatory issues who gave a whole generation of children morning-routine PTSD.
He is wearing a cumberbund, which is one of the fashion world’s kindest gestures to men—an ancestor of Spanx that hides our midsections’ emancipations or the fact that the pleasure of eating Pringles sometimes disables your ability to not burrow through the entire joy silo in a single sitting.
Minutes earlier, I had stood in the hallway waiting my turn. Handlers handled me. For prep, I pondered how no carpet felt as good as casino carpet. It’s like the soft, verdant loam of money; carpet so thick and giving it’s nearly a bounce house. Eventually, the door to the PR suite opened, and a journalist exited. He looked a bit stunned from his encounter, as if he saw what was inside the glowing briefcase in Pulp Fiction, and it was Mr. Short.
Martin Short, of course, doesn’t need the cumberbund to hide any abdominal discretions. He is lithe and vibrant and very Canadian in the most pleasant of ways. He and I have exactly 15 minutes with each other, a luxurious infinity pool of time allotted by the media architecture of press junkets. I imagine by the end of this vacation together, we’ll blithely phone Steve Martin from the gas station where we choose the proper jerky for the road trip all new buds take to cement our forever bond.
I have become mildly obsessed with what I consider to be one of the greatest ad campaigns of all time for a regional casino, Harrah’s of Southern California. They officially renamed—officially!—an entire town an hour north of San Diego “Funner, California.” And, every couple of years since 2017, they have “elected” a new mayor. The first mayor was David Hasselhoff. You’d see him all over billboards in San Diego, his handsome face that seemingly came into the world expressing a flirty wink or a double-guns. That double-guns face lorded over the city for years, proclaiming him the preeminent public official of a casino-based woohoo. Destinies had never been so perfectly aligned.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
The Hoff was followed by geometrically-chinned boy king Rob Riggle and, most recently, the towering dutchess of deadpan, Jane Lynch (I sat with Jane when she was “elected,” too. You can read about our deep, meaningful relationship here). And now, Martin Short.
I enter the large suite and Martin Short is sitting at a conference table, purple as a magnificent bruise. There is an adjacent “living room,” where no fewer than four people also sit but make no eye contact whatsoever. Then, a kitchen with three barstools, all of which are full with people charged with overseeing this interaction. It is… dead silent, as if someone has just informed the group that AI has made it into the national drinking water. It’s in my nature to not ignore anyone in a social situation, so I briefly say hello to Mr. Short and then try to make eye contact with every single person. It is unreciprocated—not in a cold way, but in a professional “please do your job; we’ve been here all day” way.
Martin, understandably thinking I’m looking for direction, says, “You can sit over here. Ask me anything you want.”
“Okay, great,” I say. “We’ll start with politics, move into religion, and finish up with sex.”
“TROY!” the PR agent blurts.
She’s a friend, a very capable and talented person who is here on the behalf of her important client. It would be better for her if I didn’t go completely free radical, leaving her to later answer many strongly worded questions about pre-screening interviewees for obvious emotional instability. I smile and become the best professional I possibly can be.
Eight people will now watch Mr. Short and I attempt to wrestle something meaningful out of 15 minutes of conversation. Which I fully realize, having been around some famous people at this point in my life, is a lifetime. Minutes are the most precious possession of the truly famous. Their time is continually requested and picked at by the rest of us. The true interview artists can go from “Hello, my name is…” to “crying over past traumas but in a meaningful, shared way” within 15 minutes.
I am not that professional. I mostly ask him dumb food questions.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
Here’s what should be said about Martin Short. First, I admit to having drastically under-appreciated this man’s talent. For whatever reason, I’d only seen him in roles that required him to perform with wild, almost cartoonish theatricality. Though his performances were remarkable in, say, Father of the Bride, my heart bends toward the blacker, dead-inside forms of comedy. I giddy most at the cigarette-smoke non-emotion of Lenny Bruce, Steven Wright, Mitch Hedburg, and Neal Brennan, or even the dopey, mellow wonderment of Nate Bargatze. Even The Chappelle Show was too animated for me, which I consider a stain on my ability to comprehend greatness.
And Mr. Short, in person, is an extremely high IQ’ed Canadian with immaculate emotional composure and a hilarious, no-bullshit wit. His answers are far less fantastical and lampoonish than I expected, but express some self-deprecating insight and wry cultural criticism. “I appreciate food people; I really do,” he says. “Eugene Levy would phone me up and say, ‘Do you want to drive to the valley and go to DuPar’s?’ And I’d say, ‘Orrrrr… eat a Balance Bar and go for a hike?’”
When I ask him for San Diego memories, he doesn’t bother polishing the fakery. “I distinctly remember going to the Hotel Del and the zoo,” he says and gives me a look that says, No clue, man. And I appreciate that amount of real, which again, I hadn’t expected. I’d expected him to embellish every moment, milk it for the ersatz. He also points out, “What do you know about Hamilton, Ontario? Probably not much.” Imminently fair.
The whole time he looks at me with the same look I imagine I’m giving him. “What, dear god, are we going to get from each other in less time than the intro montage of each episode of Game of Thrones—but, hey, let’s try.” And yet, he’s game, a consummate professional, polite as ****. And we get what we get.
The whole room laughs multiple times throughout our conversation… and not in a way that suggests they’re paid to laugh (they are). I’m laughing, too. His wit leaves the station first in any conversation—as it has been for nearly five decades now—and, more often than not, drops you off at a pretty damn funny destination.
By the time my PR friend announces from behind me, “Two minutes remaining, Troy,” I’ve decided that I do want to get some gas station jerky with my new buddy, head toward some uniquely American tourist attraction like the world’s largest petrified wad of hummus, and stop at a grocery store somewhere, half drunk on road cosmos, to squeeze a little Charmin.
Courtesy of Harrah’s Resort Southern California
Hard-Hitting Questions With The New Mayor Of Funner, California: Martin Short
Troy Johnson (TJ): What are you going to change about Funner, California during your reign?
Martin Short (MS): It’s going more modern and muted tones. I’m a painter. If you ever saw Ordinary People, it’s going to be as depressing as that. Changing nothing is my policy.
TJ: What is fun to you? What gets your giddy going?
MS: I have a lot of funny friends.
TJ: You don’t say.
MS: I swear to you, I have had 500,000 funny dinners. So funny to me is a great dinner, great cocktails, funny people, and a good vibe.
TJ: Let’s talk drinks. When you look at your hand, what is sloshing there?
MS: A cosmopolitan or white wine. Or, what my siblings and I all drink is rum and Cokes with a slice of lime. I’m not doing the Jack and Coke like you kids. When I was doing The Second City, I would always have a Rusty Nail. It was called a liquid Quaalude in the US and a kilt-lifter in Canada. You have one and you lift your kilt.
TJ: Your shoes are fantastic. Did you dress yourself?
MS: This is just stuff I had lying around. Dorothy-esque.
TJ: Let’s say it’s your final meal before you leave every human behind. You’re never going to see Steve Martin or any of them ever again. But you’re in charge of the menu. All that matters is you. What are you eating?
MS: I would order a Caesar salad, and then I’d go to roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus. And then for dessert, I’d go for ice cream. When I have guests at the house or Christmas or whatever it is… whenever they leave, and it’s just me, I will take that ice cream out of the freezer and leave it in the sink and let it melt. Because it’s like heroin.
TJ: I knew you were a man of distinction, but I didn’t realize you had this much distinction.
MS: I remember, in Canada, they didn’t have Baskin Robbins. My sister was going to the University of Michigan. I remember first experiencing pralines and cream, mocha almond fudge. And I would get up at 3 a.m. in the morning… I’d never tasted anything like it. So for my last meal I’d have a butterscotch sundae.
TJ: You had universal healthcare in Canada but not 31 Flavors? That seems like Canada’s priorities may be off.
MS: No. The first thing I did when I came to the US was go to a department store and squeeze the Charmin. How soft could it be? Talk about an ad campaign that worked.
TJ: And was it soft as my middle-aged midriff?
MS: Unbelievably soft. Started making out with it and they threw me out of the department store or wherever I was.
MS: I don’t eat red things. I wouldn’t eat a beet, I wouldn’t have a radish, and I don’t eat tomatoes. But I love ketchup and I love tomato sauce. But if someone hands me a turkey sandwich with tomato on it, the first thing I do is take it off.
TJ: Interesting. So you’re like a bull. Red inflames and enrages you.
MS: One time, my father was drinking milk from the quart, because he’s Irish, and I said, “Dad, be careful. I think that’s a little bit turned,” and he went “Hmmm… a little bit,” and kept drinking it. To this day, I’m traumatized. I don’t put milk in my coffee. I’ll put skim in my cereal, but just moist enough to cover the Raisin Bran.
TJ: So what tomato hurt you?
MS: I don’t know.
TJ: Pineapple on pizza?
MS: No. No, no, no, no, no. Mushroom and pepperoni.
TJ: What do you have in your pantry at all times?
MS: I have peanut butter, some tuna in a can. I make poached eggs in the morning.
TJ: That’s cooking-esque.
MS: Breakfast I can do. But I’ve never made a meal. I’ve never made a dinner. I can have a Balance Bar for breakfast, a Balance Bar for lunch, a Balance Bar for dinner, a sensible protein at the end of the night.
TJ: Okay, that makes sense.
MS: It doesn’t, really. It sounds kind of sad.
TJ: We’re San Diego Magazine. Do you have San Diego stories?
MS: I remember vividly staying at Hotel Del. I love the film Some Like It Hot, so that was exciting. Going to the zoo. That’s my image of San Diego.
TJ: So, not much. We are the souvenir cup of California, but we’re getting better.
MS: What do you know about Hamilton, Ontario? Probably not much.
TJ: I know they have healthcare and their red food sucks.
MS: Exactly.
TJ: What do you love about the resort experience?
MS: I love a good spa, but not the cucumbers. I would not eat a cucumber. You like all this stuff—you like all the foods, don’t you?
TJ: Well, not all. I’ve tried to like uni. All of my friends who’ve cooked in great restaurants say, “You have to like uni; it’s like the foie gras of the sea,” and my response is, “Really? Because it tastes like slimy gonads of a sea creature.”
MS: I’m weird because I would not eat a cucumber, but I do love escargot. I like sushi. I love steak. A good cheeseburger. But I eat a lot of chicken and turkey. And I think my favorite meal would be Thanksgiving—the mashed potatoes and turkey and dressing. In Canada, we don’t mash the potatoes because it feels too aggressive.
TJ: You just kind of stare at them and hope they’ll do their thing?
MS: I envy the foodie. I really do. I pass people painting a beautiful gorge, and I wish I could do that. But the only thing I can do is fill in “one” and then fill in “three.” I envy someone who can get joy out of cooking for three hours with a glass of white wine and youthful music playing. But me? I eat for energy.
TJ: Someone hands you a glass of white wine, and it has two cubes of ice in it. Does it activate your über-pretentious gene where you say, “Oh dear, oh my, nobody desecrates the terroir of the wine on my watch?”
MS: No, I take the glass, I down it in one gulp, and I say, “How dare you?” You know who does? Diane Keaton will take the best glass of red wine and put ice cubes in it.
TJ: You’ve been doing comedy for a couple years—what makes you get up and do what you do?
MS: Well, I think that you love doing it. It’s trickier in any career when you realize you’ve got the rent covered. Why do you want to keep doing it? The second you become complacent—or you realize the effort you would put in at 30, you’re not willing to put in at 60—then you should move aside.
TJ: And you’re not there yet, obviously. Do you ever see yourself getting to that point?
MS: I think after the third stroke I won’t be as active as I’d hoped.
Troy Johnson is the magazine’s award-winning food writer and humorist, and a long-standing expert on Food Network. His work has been featured on NatGeo, Travel Channel, NPR, and in Food Matters, a textbook of the best American food writing.
San Diego is full of people who deserve a few thousand words on what they make, who they bring together, and how their work changes the city around them. The artists, makers, advocates, and behind-the-scenes talent below are a small part of that larger ecosystem.
To help us narrow our list, we looked for names that kept coming up, work that reflects the diversity of our region, and people building something bigger than themselves.
Jackie is a long-time freelance journalist covering cannabis, food/restaurants, travel, labor, wine, spirits, arts & culture, design, and other topics. Her work has been selected twice for Best American Travel Writing, and she has won a variety of national and local awards for her writing and reporting.
Isabella Dallas is a freelance writer for San Diego Magazine and the Arts and Culture Editor at The Daily Aztec in her final year at San Diego State University. She previously worked as an editorial intern for SDM, but when she’s not writing, you can find her trying the best coffee spots in SD, devouring the latest rom-coms, and indulging in anything and everything pop culture.
Matt Eisenberg is an award-winning writer and photographer based in San Diego. A former ESPN editor, his work has also been published by CNN, Bleacher Report and the New York Daily News.
Aaryn Belfer is a writer and editor specializing in nonfiction across art, architecture, and culture. Once upon a time, she wrote a provocative column for San Diego CityBeat (RIP). She was a runner up in the 2025 Matchbook Stories contest at the San Diego Central Library and is irrationally happy about it. Currently in her Soft Girl Era, Aaryn has expensive taste in (mostly flat) shoes and will choose a great art exhibit or live jazz concert over almost anything else. Except, possibly, Javier Bardem.
Lili Kim is a content coordinator and writer for San Diego Magazine, with experience highlighting local businesses and communities. When not writing or shooting film, she is likely brewing her seventh cup of tea of the day or strolling along Sunset Cliffs.
Emma Veidt is an editor at San Diego Magazine. She earned her bachelor's and master's degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism. She loves running, hiking, and rock climbing, but really, she mostly loves encounters with the street cats around North Park.
Gail Czyszczon is owner/copywriter at Z3 Writing and best-selling author of a children’s book series. As a strategic communications professional and editorialist, she's passionate about discovering untold stories and themes that ignite fresh conversation and true change in communities.
Imagine being the song continuously getting skipped on the playlist. Not because no one wants to hear you, but because you never quite fit the moment. For years, San Diego has been that song on the touring circuit. Artists who have outgrown intimate clubs but aren’t yet filling arenas and stadiums have often passed us by, heading north to venues better suited to the size of their show. San Diego wasn’t missing the audience, it was missing the room.
That’s all about to change.
On August 17, Live Nation Entertainment announced plans to transform the historic Wonder Bread Building, which it purchased in June for $16.8 million, into a 4,000-capacity indoor venue slated to open in fall 2028. The new space will host music acts as well as private, corporate, and community events.
Currently, San Diego’s concert landscape jumps quickly from intimate clubs like the Casbah, Winston’s, and Belly Up to larger theaters, amphitheaters, arenas, and stadiums. What’s largely missing—particularly downtown—is a modern indoor room built specifically for roughly 4,000 concertgoers. This leaves a gap in mid-size venues for touring acts that land stages like the Hollywood Palladium or Boston’s MGM Music Hall at Fenway.
“We are filling a void in the market,” says John Schalk, Live Nation’s Vice President, San Diego Market. “There are other venues in town, but this […] building is just something that doesn’t currently exist.” Although SDSU’s Cal Coast Credit Union Amphitheater serves the 4,000-capacity range, its outdoor, fixed-seating arrangement isn’t as versatile as the proposed Live Nation project.
Located at 171 14th Street, just a six-minute walk from Petco Park, the building carries a century of history. Architect Eugene Hoffman designed it in 1924, a year after completing the Barcelona Apartment Hotel in Bankers Hill. The landmark brick building served as a bakery and warehouse for the Southern California Baking Company before Continental Baking Company, producers of Wonder Bread, took over in the 1950s and operated there through 1988 continued at the site until 2007.
In the early 2000s, Bob and Gay Sinclair, the couple behind a portfolio of East Village properties, purchased the building. After Bob—the founder of Pannikin Coffee & Tea—died in 2011, Gay sold much of their real estate portfolio but held onto the Wonder Bread Building. Mission Brewing eventually took over the space, where it operated for more than a decade before announcing its 2026 departure.
Now, the building is preparing for another reinvention. Live Nation plans to preserve the historic bakery’s four exterior walls, red brick façade, grain silo, barrel-vaulted trusses, and skylights as part of its next chapter.
Live Nation isn’t looking to erase its history but to celebrate it, allowing the building’s past to give the new venue some soul. “It’s really important for us that we maintain the integrity and the history of that building,” Schalk says. “There will be new construction and design elements as we go through the process to create the concert venue, but we’re working really hard to preserve it.”
Blueprint Studio, Live Nation’s in-house design and development group, and Gensler, the architecture firm behind San Diego International Airport Terminal 1 and Snapdragon Stadium, will be heading the project. The plan is to design the ground-floor space as an open, general-admission area with a premium level above with 600-plus fixed seats, in addition to box and suite sections. There will also be an additional structure built on top of the historical portion of the building (the four original walls that house the lobby) called the Vinyl Room—a Japanese-inspired hi-fi listening VIP lounge serving elevated food options.
One of the most reassuring aspects of the project is the focus on the concertgoer’s experience—specifically the “pet peeves” we all know too well: long bathroom lines, cramped exits, obstructed views. According to Schalk, one of the best things about building upon the existing structure is having the ability to consider potential obstacles and tackle them before construction begins. “I’d say we are ‘purpose building’ the entirety of the project for a music venue,” says Gensler lead project architect Garrett van Leeuwen. “As part of our design process, we do an in-depth sightline analysis to make sure that sightlines are optimized from every point and seat within the venue.”
Circulation design is also being implemented to ease traffic flow, alongside acoustic optimization and a transformative outdoor beautification effort. According to van Leeuwen, this “public realm space” will grow the existing 14-foot sidewalk to a 32-foot sidewalk complete with plazas and landscaping.
“This venue is for the fans. For the music lovers,” Schalk explains. The vision is intimate: “I want a fan to walk up to that building, see that red brick facade, grab their ticket from the box office, go into the lobby and see some of the history that will present itself… and feel like you entered a home.” Schalk also expressed a “keen interest in making sure that we work with the local artists, the local bands, the local musicians in town.” It’s a project that recognizes San Diego as a growing market that is hungry and ready to see a vibrant arts and culture community thrive.
According to an analysis by Oxford Economics analysis shared by Live Nation, the venue is projected to deliver a significant boost to the local economy, generating approximately $97 million in annual economic impact and supporting 660 jobs. This also includes welcoming 316,000 fans each year—with 126,000 traveling from outside the San Diego metro area—and driving $53 million in local spending at nearby restaurants, hotels, and retail establishments.
Considering its proximity to other major event spaces and overall busy urban areas, traffic and parking may be a concern, especially on nights of overlapping events. But in those cases, Schalk said they would work together on communication efforts; parking availability; and staggering start, end, and loading times; as well as providing easy access to designated rideshare areas. With transit stations nearby (the closest one being a 4-minute walk at 12th & Imperial), public transportation is another great option for enjoying your night out.
There are still two years of design, construction, and plenty of logistics between now and opening night. But the bigger promise of the Wonder Bread Building is simple: San Diego finally gets a venue built for the artists who have historically passed it by. After years of getting skipped on the touring playlist, the city may finally be getting its turn on repeat.
Camila Ibarra Gallego is a CaliBaja native pursuing a master's degree in culinary journalism at the Basque Culinary Center. Shaped by the culturally rich, bicultural megaregion, she's passionate about sniffing out stories that connect people, territory and culture through food. When she's not tumbling down internet rabbit holes, you can find her pretending to be a wine connoisseur at a local wine bar or nose-deep in a good book.
On February 28, 1926, the Fine Arts Gallery of San Diego (now called the San Diego Museum of Art) opened its Plateresque doors to 3,000 guests for opening day. Over the next century, the museum changed with the times—even once functioning as a naval hospital after Pearl Harbor. This year, the museum is celebrating its 100th birthday with an exhibit (open through January 24, 2027) featuring photographs, ephemera, and film footage spanning the museum’s history.
Courtesy of Tim Novara
Free Concerts at Spreckels Organ Pavilion
Every Sunday from 2 to 3 p.m., stop by the historic Spreckels Organ Pavilion for a free concert presented by the City of San Diego on the largest outdoor organ in the world (more than 5,000 pipes). The pavilion seats 2,400 for performances by the civic organist or guest artists.
Some think natural history museums are just cemeteries for dioramas that haven’t received an update since the Reagan administration. When it comes to The Nat, which just finished a $7.5 million rejuvenation, they’re totally wrong. The museum debuted a new rooftop that replaces its 25-year-old atrium. The old roof created a greenhouse effect that steamed up some exhibits, so the new one—which includes 200 solar panels and better temperature control—will help preserve the artifacts inside. Each Friday in the summer, The Nat also becomes one of the season’s vibiest hotspots during Nat at Night, with food from places like Wolf in the Woods and The Craft Taco, bars and signature cocktails on several floors, and a rooftop DJ.
Fleet Science Theater Remodel
The Fleet Science Center just received its most significant update since the 1990s. It expanded its exhibit space by 20 percent and introduced a newly designed entrance gallery (formerly the IMAX theater lobby) that includes free exhibits for visitors who want a taste of the science without paying an admission fee. The former ticketing area now houses the Mindbender Mansion exhibit, and there’s a new café, Element 8, that will, of course, sell the center’s famous soft serve.
Kelly H. Harfouche, founder of KQ Aesthetic Society, knows firsthand that cosmetic treatments like fillers, neurotoxins, and microneedling, can not only enhance a person’s appearance and restore confidence, they have the power to truly change a person’s life. An expert injector has the ability to tailor treatments to each individual patient’s anatomy and goals for personalized results. Harfouche, a board-certified nurse practitioner, has spent nearly a decade perfecting her craft as an aesthetic injector and integrating her multifaceted artistic skills with precision patient care. Her commitment to continual education and training, plus a passion for helping people look—and feel—their best, set KQ Aesthetic Society apart in a sea of local medspas.
For many people considering nonsurgical treatments, the intent is to look refreshed and refined. KQ Aesthetic Society’s philosophy eschews a cookie cutter approach that bases treatments around units, instead working to understand each person’s unique goals, then curating a treatment plan to fit that vision. Harfouche focuses on “inclusive luxury,” the belief that everyone deserves access to aesthetic treatments, respective of budget restrictions. She develops long-standing trusted relationships with her patients, and works with each one to achieve their aesthetic objectives and address the underlying causes of their concerns.
“For me, forming an honest and open relationship with every patient who walks through the door is essential. This means understanding them on a deeper level and meeting them where they are to define and achieve their individual goals,” she says.
Drawing on her artistic background, which inspired her transition into medical aesthetics, Harfouche sees each client as a “unique canvas.” Rather than relying on standardized procedures, the practitioner’s distinctive approach combines her profound understanding of the physiological and anatomical changes associated with aging with an unwavering commitment to ongoing education about the newest products and their mechanisms of action. Her goal is to make each patient feel beautiful in their own skin and to embrace their individuality.
She has also pioneered a way to combine her talent for aesthetic artistry with her philanthropic nature. Harfouche is one of only a handful of providers using dermal fillers to treat patients with lip asymmetry and scarring resulting from cleft lip surgery. Patients travel from around the country for this transformative treatment, noting increased confidence and a restored identity. She hopes to eventually launch a training program to help fill the void in this space.
“My passion has always been connecting with people and giving back in any capacity that I can,” she says. In the rapidly advancing landscape of aesthetic medicine, you can place your confidence in Harfouche and KQ Aesthetic Society to deliver exceptional care. To learn more or book a consultation, please visit kqaestheticsociety.com.
September is San Diego’s unofficial second summer—the crowds thin, the weather stays warm, and the city’s calendar somehow gets even busier. This month brings stadium-sized rock shows, Broadway’s buzziest comedy, a new anime convention, world-premiere theater, gallery openings, food festivals, and the first signs of spooky season. Whether you’re ready to lean into fall or determined to keep summer going, here are the best things to do in San Diego this September.
As Guns N’ Roses storm into decade five, their appetite for destruction persists. During their Snapdragon Stadium concert, hear the hard rock anthems, new material and a set from The Black Crowes.
9/23
Kehlani is proof that the romance and earnest sensuality of old-school R&B will never go out of style. Hear her take it back to the aughts at Viejas Arena.
From the silver screen to The Old Globe stage, John Carney will Begin Again (again) with a world premiere musical adaptation featuring new songs—courtesy of Train—and a story overflowing with hope.
9/12-10/17
The concept of work is a guiding principle for San Diego native and multidisciplinary creative noé olivas. Observe his community-informed approach via Tierra y Cielo (Earth and Sky) at Best Practice Gallery.
9/18-10/25
Two workers grapple with the weight of their roles at a temporary migrant shelter in Mario Vega’s world premiere play Our Lady of the San Diego Convention Center, set for citywide performances.
9/26-2/28/2027
Luminous visions of peace and the Punjabi-American roots of Rupinder Kaloti inform The Gathering, a wondrous unification of family foretold via paintings at Oceanside Museum of Art.
9/29-10/4
It’s Mary Todd Lincoln’s world and we’re just living in it. See the presidential paramour barrel to her way to stardom at the Civic Theatre during Oh, Mary!, Cole Escola’s political spoof.
Courtesy of SeaWorld
More Fun Things to Do in San Diego This Month
9/5 & 9/6
Pros and Con(vention)s: Anime San Diego will debut at the San Diego Convention Center with cosplayers, panels and more than 400 vendors well-versed in Japanese animation.
9/11-10/31
Scaredy cats beware: SeaWorld San Diego’s Howl-O-Scream embraces frights forged in darkness. Enjoy an ominous lineup of live shows, scare zones and bloody bars ahead of Halloween.
9/12
The best parts of Artivál and the Alley Cat Art Walk have united for the free Alley Cat Art Fest, an all-day outing for live music and immersive artwork in Downtown El Cajon.
9/12 & 9/13
Take a Grecian vacation for a fraction of the price during the annual Cardiff Greek Festival, two days of immersive cuisine and culture—with plenty of dancing—on the Encinitas coast.
9/13-9/20
Step away from the stove! The California Restaurant Association has eight days of eating experiences with your name on it. During San Diego Restaurant Week, explore by meal, neighborhood or cuisine for your personal dining plan.
9/16
Nourish yourself with an all-inclusive spread of Pacific Beach eats and locally-crafted artwork during the HeArt of PB Restaurant Walk on Garnet Avenue.
9/19
When it comes to stand-up comedy, Chelsea Handler is always ready to roast. See Handler tell anecdotes and skewer an assemblage of victims during her Balboa Theatre performance.
Ryan Hardison is a freelance arts and entertainment writer and recent graduate of San Diego State. When he's not staring at his laptop, he's likely eating an adobada burrito or getting sunburnt at the beach.
A Rare Look Inside Callaway Golf’s San Diego Test Center
The Ely Callaway Performance Center is where tour-level fittings, cutting-edge technology, and golf equipment you can’t buy yet all come together
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
By Tina Mickelson
“Come test something.”
Those are quite possibly my three favorite words in the English language—all due respect to “I love you” or the highly underrated “you were right.”
I’ve been a PGA Golf Professional since 1994, and yes, full bias disclosure, a Callaway Golf Ambassador for 18 years. One of the bonuses that comes with that combo is access to the Ely Callaway Performance Center—a place so exclusive it gives “velvet rope” vibes.
Originally opened in 2006 as a highly functional (yet not exactly breathtaking) test facility, the ECPC got a serious glow-up in 2018 when Gil Hanse (along with partner Geoff Shackelford) turned it into what can only be described as a fully engineered golf playground. Hanse is no stranger to golf course renovations. In 2024, he completed an extensive redesign of the Omni La Costa North Course in Carlsbad, so it could host the NCAA Division 1 Golf Championships. He also worked on acclaimed courses like Winged Foot, Merion Golf Club, and Oakmont Country Club.
In just two months, it went from a standard test center and R&D lab to a fully dialed-in golf playground.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
What was once purely practical is now intentionally designed to be both precise and inspiring. The targets are staggered with purpose—forcing creative shot-making while also calling you out on your actual distances (no more “that’s my 150-yard club … ish”).
Add a massive hitting area, bunkers and greens that mimic real on-course conditions, a “Himalayas” putting green (named for its roller-coaster undulations), an upgraded indoor putting lab, and a 120-decibel sound system blasting a very golf-appropriate playlist, and suddenly it’s a rare blend of high-performance testing facility and “don’t mind if I stay here all day” energy. Since this isn’t exactly open to the public, SDM asked me to take you behind the curtain.
As the iron gates part, it feels less like arriving at a practice facility and more like being granted backstage access at a rock concert—if the bandmembers were made entirely of launch monitors and perfectly manicured turf.
There are no mats. No guessing. No “I think that one felt good?” Just conditions that mirror exactly what tour players see in competition. Because when you’re testing equipment at this level, accuracy isn’t a bonus—it’s the whole point.
Even the sand matters. Different textures. Different densities. Because bunkers have personalities, too, and they are often unfriendly. And the golf balls? Brand. New. Not the usual “these have seen some things” range balls. New balls mean consistent spin, truer trajectory, and no surprises. The older a golf ball gets—and the more it’s been baked in the sun, scuffed, or generally lived a full and complicated life—the less reliable it becomes. Think of it like this: fresh ball, predictable performance; old range ball, slight chaos with a side of mystery.
I’m escorted to my personal hitting bay—basically a pop-up shaded oasis stocked with enough equipment to make a gear junkie weak in the knees. Shafts in every weight and profile imaginable. Heads lined up like they’re waiting to be drafted by their favorite team.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
Toptracer technology was patiently waiting to track every one of my swings, each shot instantly delivering ball speed, launch, spin, carry distance, and dispersion (a polite way of saying consistency, or lack thereof), so there’s no guessing—just data telling the truth, whether I like it or not.
We start with irons. Different heads, different feels, different results. When I miss a shot, the ball tends to leak right, so we check lie angle. A quick adjustment—2 degrees upright—and suddenly the clubface is consistently square at impact like it remembered its job. Effort level: down. Ball flight: improved. Confidence: creeping back.
Next we look at the different shaft options—because nothing says “fun afternoon” like realizing a higher kick point can change your entire golf identity. Shaft flex (how much the shaft bends during your swing) helps determine whether you get more height and distance or more control, while kick point (where the shaft bends the most) influences your ball flight—lower kick point for higher launch, higher kick point for a flatter, more penetrating shot. In other words, one small tweak and suddenly you’re hitting shots you’d normally only describe later, slightly exaggerated, over a glass of wine.
Then we move through the bag: hybrids, fairway woods, drivers, wedges. It’s a full rotation of “try this,” “now try this,” and “okay wait … THAT one.”
And yes—the new Quantum driver and fairway woods made an appearance. Without getting too deep in the weeds, they’re faster, more forgiving, and smarter (thanks to AI face mapping) than previous models. Translation: Even your mishits are now slightly less embarrassing. And they were not the only things getting tested. My patience was under attack because the driver and woods would not be available to the public for a good three months.
Courtesy of Ely Callaway Performance Center
Watching the fitting team work is like watching a Formula 1 pit crew. Clubs are swapped in seconds. Shafts tightened, adjusted, replaced. One minute you’re swinging something that seems “fine,” and the next, you’re holding a club that feels like it is a part of your DNA.
Then there’s the putter fitting. Drivers are physics. Putters are therapy. Inside the putting lab, sensors track everything—tempo, face angle, path—things you didn’t even know could be measured. Within minutes, my data politely informs me that my putter face is slightly closed at impact. Not shocking, but also not ideal.
A few quick adjustments—different head (with a bit more weight at the toe to discourage the face swinging closed at impact), shorter shaft (so I feel more over the ball, which helps my eyeline)—and suddenly the ball starts rolling exactly where I’m aimed.
Same stroke. Same golfer. Completely different outcome. If only the rest of life worked like that.
And then there’s the part that feels slightly classified. The ECPC isn’t “just” a performance center—it’s also where future equipment lives before the public even knows it exists. I’ve been there when certain clubs were basically under surveillance. Not “don’t touch,” but more “please keep phones in your pocket.”
It’s golf’s version of Area 51. Except instead of aliens, it’s drivers that won’t hit shelves for another year—and like I mentioned, waiting is not my strong suit.
Getting to test the newest equipment isn’t just a perk—it’s part of the job. It’s what allows me to stand in front of students and say, “I’ve tried it. I know what works and what doesn’t. And more importantly, I know why.” And if I happen to sprint to my car every time the phone rings and someone says, “Come test something” … well, that’s just professional courtesy.
Callaway isn’t the only place to get your swing analyzed and clubs fitted. You can stroll into big retail spots like The Golf Mart or Golf Galaxy, book a next-level session at a dedicated studio like Club Champion or True Spec Golf, test brand-specific gear at various manufacturing companies (many located in Carlsbad), or even combine a lesson and a fitting at GOLFTEC. And let’s not forget your local golf course, where fittings happen on actual turf, on a driving range you have some history with—many times with the golf professional who is familiar with your swing so they can give you valuable input. With this many options, there’s really no excuse, other than pride, to keep blaming your clubs.
AVRP Studios’ tradition for Design Excellence and Innovation began in 1976 with Doug Austin, FAIA, in Solana Beach, California. The firm has since grown to complete major projects throughout the United States and Canada. We think of ourselves as a family and we care deeply about people. We want to inspire, help make their lives richer and more complete through our efforts. We believe that architecture is one of the most important art forms because of the impact it can have on the lives of those it touches. We’re delighted to have been recognized with over 150 awards for design excellence.
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