A man with no cultural scene will often invent his own. Taylor Steele did just that. When the award-winning producer and director returned to North County two years ago after living in NYC, Australia, and Bali, he sought to reignite the creative community at home, and only one place would do: the historic La Paloma Theater in Encinitas, where he grew up watching films like Searching for Tom Curren on the ratty seats.
“La Paloma is the mecca for surf premieres, but there was no festival here,” says Steele, whose explosive 1992 rockumentary-style film Momentum inspired a generation of surfers to elevate the sport into an art form. His second annual Solento Film Festival takes place Sept. 22-25 at the 1928 Spanish Colonial icon. It’s a legacy story for Steele, who flipped the script with Sipping Jetstreams and Proximity and went on to art direct campaigns for Corona, Apple and HBO.
Last year’s festival debuted to a full house that included industry giants like Kelly Slater, Rob Machado and Mick Fanning. They were lured by more than movies; music has been a crucial part of Steele’s oeuvre ever since his early VHS films helped to boost SoCal bands like The Offspring and blink-182. During this year’s festival, concerts will be held on an outdoor stage at Seaside Reef, Steele’s home break.
One of the festival’s sponsors is Steele’s very own certified organic tequila brand, Solento, packaged in a Chanel N°5-inspired bottle. It’s a long way from the early days of surf films at La Paloma. “There was always the sound of beer bottles rolling down the aisle,” says Steele, legs outstretched on the seats in front of him. “It’s a rite of passage for every filmmaker to show here.”
Last year’s Olympics in Paris delivered plenty of unforgettable moments—a metal band performing alongside a headless Marie Antoinette in a 13th-century castle, breakdancing’s short-lived debut (sorry, Raygun), and even Snoop Dogg serving as a torchbearer. But some of the most memorable concerned our own hometown heroes.
Sixty San Diegans competed for Team USA, earning 25 medals across eight sports, with gold medalists including then-Wave FC players Naomi Girma and Jaedyn Shaw, basketball star Kelsey Plum, and cyclist Jennifer Valente. Encinitas’ own Jagger Eaton hit the street park as one of only three Americans representing the country in men’s street skateboarding, nabbing a silver medal finish. And while TikTok-famous local “rave horse” Suppenkasper and his rider Steffen Peters, beloved for their EDM-fueled dressage routines, didn’t make it to the finals, the 17-year-old gelding had audiences eating out of the palm of his, uh, hoof from the very first beat drop.
The next Chucky Lozano might soon be honing his skills right down the road in El Cajon. San Diego FC kicked off its inaugural season in February and quickly proved itself a force within MLS (at press time, it sits at number one in the Western Conference). With it came the Right to Dream Academy, a scholarship-based academic and training facility where promising players as young as 11 will prepare for a bright future in the pro league under top-tier tutelage.
Best Triple Play
San Diego Padres
Picture it: Padres against the hated Dodgers in LA. With two runners on, the fate of the Padres’ 2024 postseason rests on one play. Bottom of the ninth inning. No outs. Padres closer Robert Suárez is looking to hang on to a 4–2 lead. Crack—a ground ball to Manny Machado. Machado tags third and fires to second. Jake Cronenworth turns it and beats the runner at first. Just like that, San Diego pulls off an unforgettable triple play and clinches their playoff berth. Easily the most cathartic moment in San Diego sports in the last year.
Best Next Step For a Fútbol Phenom
Alex Morgan
As one chapter ends, another kicks off. San Diego’s favorite WNSL icon, Alex Morgan, officially hung up her cleats (along with her number-13 jersey, which the team is retiring in her honor) for good in September 2024 after her final game with San Diego Wave FC against the North Carolina Courage. But before you get too emotional, she also dropped the much happier news that baby number two was on the way.
True to form, she’s not slowing down anytime soon. She’s staying in the game as a minority investor in the Wave, continuing her mission to uplift women in sports and ensure the next generation has even more room to shine.
2024 was a big year for San Diego State alum and world-ranked number-three golfer Xander Schauffele. Following a near-perfect round of 62 at Kentucky’s Valhalla Golf Club, tying the lowest round ever scored in a Major championship, he secured a narrow PGA Tour win over titan Bryson DeChambeau. Fast forward to July, and Schauffele brought his A-game to the Open Championship at Royal Troon Golf Club in Scotland. Battling wind, rain, and the course’s punishing bunkers, Schauffele was one of only 17 golfers to break par throughout the tournament.
Courtesy of Lori Walton
Best Legend We’ll Miss
Bill Walton
We said goodbye to a local icon this year: 6’11 NCAA Hall of Famer Bill Walton. Born in La Mesa, Walton played basketball at Helix High with his brother Bruce (who later became an NFLer) before making his mark at UCLA under legendary coach John Wooden. He won three straight NCAA Player of the Year awards (’72–’74) and was the first overall pick in the 1974 NBA Draft. Leading the Portland Trail Blazers to their only NBA championship in 1977, Walton became a beloved sports legend. A devoted Deadhead, he attended more than 800 Grateful Dead concerts and spent his later years deeply involved in community work, leaving a lasting legacy.
Best Record Breaker
Caitlin Simmers
Growing up in Oceanside, Caitlin Simmers had always gravitated toward the activities that make a California beach city what it is. She dabbled in BMX, dance, martial arts, and skateboarding, but found her calling in surfing at age 6. Now, at 19, she is in her third year of the World Surf League Champions Tour and part of the USA Olympic team. Last year, at Lower Trestles, only 20 miles from her hometown, she notched a pretty serious resume builder: She became the youngest woman winner of the World Surf League Final.
Every year, when winter swells bring San Diego’s best waves to their fullest potential, local surfers flood the lineups of popular spots like Black’s and Swami’s. But some of the heaviest and most dangerous surf lies further south, off the coast of Imperial Beach. The area’s crown jewel, Tijuana Sloughs, sometimes serves up 20-plus-foot waves that break up to a half-mile from shore.
Even as the surfing population has exploded, however, IB remains empty in comparison to the rest of San Diego, thanks to the pollution that plagues its waters. Surfers in IB don’t just check the surf cams and swell forecasts—they monitor the water data from the nearby International Boundary and Water Commission.
“It’s almost a science to go out for a surf and not get sick,” says resident Dwayne Fernandez. “My wife hates that I still surf here; she gets worried. I check the reports every day to see if it’s safe, which has been rare these days. If it’s not, I may have to drive over an hour just to get in the ocean—and I live minutes from the beach in IB.”
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler Dwayne Fernandez says his wife hates that he still surfs in IB. He lives near the beach but often must drive more than an hour to surf where water conditions are safer.
According to the Surfrider Foundation, IB has the unfortunate distinction of being the most polluted beach in America. Built in 1996 with the capacity to manage 25 million gallons of wastewater a day, the nearby South Bay International Wastewater Treatment Plant (SBIWTP) is frequently overwhelmed. Anything that exceeds the limits of the SBIWTP comes out as raw sewage, clearly visible in the water as a dark brown plume with an accompanying nasty smell.
The sewage flow can sometimes hit hundreds of millions of gallons in a single day. “You don’t want to be out there when that happens, and it can happen quickly,” says Adam Wraight, an Imperial Beach lifeguard sergeant, junior lifeguard coordinator, and longtime local surfer.
Courtesy of Surfrider Foundation
But that hasn’t stopped some residents, despite mandates prohibiting surfing and swimming during beach closures. If the waves are good, surfers are probably out there. Why take the chance, though, when there are so many other good waves—with cleaner water—in the county?
It’s partly a point of local pride. The surf history in IB runs deep. Stories of the Tijuana Sloughs on its good days are the stuff of legend, discussed in hushed tones in the core San Diego surf community.
Photo Credit: Kevin Stuart Former lifeguard and IB resident Jeff Knox braves toxic conditions to surf his local waves.
“The Sloughs was never a spot meant for everyone,” says Jeff Knox, a former lifeguard and lifelong IB surfer. “The paddle-out alone was enough of a deterrent for most. The shorebreak took care of the rest. It’s mostly locals out there; we like it that way. It’s one of the best waves around and, for that very reason, we never used to talk about it. But those days are long gone. We need all the help we can get—the more attention, the better. Because this is a huge problem.”
It’s also been part of the deal for decades. “I started surfing IB in the ’60s, [and] we’ve always had to deal with pollution,” Knox adds. “Throughout my entire life, it’s never been as bad as the last 10 years. The last five have been absolutely terrible.”
Additionally, there’s the simple fact of convenience. While IB’s median rent cost of $3,000 is well under the staggering housing costs in other surf-adjacent ’hoods like Encinitas and Del Mar, locals still pay a pretty penny to live a few blocks from the beach. And they often pay a price for surfing there.
Photo Credit: Jeff Knox Imperial Beach is considered the most polluted beach in the United States, with dangerous levels of bacteria caused by millions of gallons of raw sewage regularly flowing directly into the sea.
Scientists have identified 175 toxic pollutants in IB’s waters. Surfers have contracted everything from diarrhea and bacterial infections like MRSA to neurological disorders and hepatitis A.
“As a lifeguard, I see all the data. I check the flows daily and monitor the testing just to see if I can go for a surf during my break or after work. There are plenty of people who don’t check anything—they just see waves and go out—but even they get spooked when they hit the water and everything feels and smells wrong,” Wraight says. “Our responsibilities are definitely different from other [lifeguard] stations and, unfortunately, so much of what we do revolves around the pollution. It can get pretty negative, and it takes a toll on morale and recruitment.”
The problem has driven some local diehards from the water completely. Ramon Chairez, an activist and educator with the nonprofit Un Mar de Colores, has lived in IB for decades, but in 2020, he “made a conscious decision to stop surfing IB,” he says. “I saw too many people around me getting sick. It wasn’t worth it. The last five to 10 years have really been pivotal in the consciousness of the population, especially the kids—they know it’s polluted and unsafe.”
As a junior lifeguard coordinator, Wraight once trained the next generation in IB. But, now, he and the local kids he works with must travel to other beaches in the county. YMCA’s Camp Surf, a program that attracts children and teens from all over the nation with the allure of learning to surf in San Diego, can no longer take participants into the area’s waters.
Photo Credit: Ariana Drehsler
They must head to other neighborhoods or stick to land-based activities. “The biggest tragedy is the youth,” Wraight says. “They’re growing up not being able to enjoy the ocean like we did—their whole life experience is affected by the pollution.”
Despite the toxic water, IB still feels like a classic beach town, a callback to a time before $8 lattes and luxury condos dominated the coast. It’s charming, quaint, and beautiful, with the open space of the Tijuana Estuary to the south, mountains in the distance, and the mighty Pacific to the west. It has one of the most unique coastal views of all of San Diego—and some of its best waves. If only you could safely surf them.
Chris Dodds has been falling in love with San Diego for the past 10 years. He's passionate about the protection and preservation of our natural areas, especially our coastline and waterways.
The bike shop sits on a popular commute route and is staffed by affable mechanics who have worked the Tour de France. Hardcore bicycle people don’t have the friendliest rep, but MJ’s is different. They’ve got the skill set to equip racers, but they don’t treat commuters or parents buying bikes like tourists in their world.
Way to Become the Pickleball
PB Tennis Club
One minute you’re casually playing a game of pickleball, the next thing you know, you’ve helped design Gearbox’s newest paddle. The brand is based in San Diego and PBTC is their local court, where they play with locals to gain insights on how to improve their rackets. This sounds like free lessons to us.
Boujee Boat Picnic
Picnic Voyage
When a relative was giving away their boat, local architect Vilchis saw an opportunity to design a 10/10 Instagrammable experience. Now you can class up your day date by recreating The Notebook—a pristinely refurbished tiny boat with padded seats, plant garlands, snacks and drinks, and even parasols. Ryan Gosling not included.
Beach Volleyball Where Everyone Knows Your Name
South Mission
Each weekend on the courts of South Mission Beach, the sand is taken over by 2v2 players—many of which are ESL speakers from various countries. They’ve made this plot of sand their sacred community, where the universal language is bump, set, and spike.
Running Shop That Doubles as Bumble BFF
Milestone Run Club
On any given Wednesday on Hamilton Ave., 100 to 200 runners gather to run the streets of North Park. It’s put on by Milestone Running, a shop created by locals Greg Lemon and Chad Crawford. Go a few times and you’re pretty much guaranteed at least ten new friends—might even get “Smirnoff Iced” during the post-run raffle. You win some, you lose some.
Reward-Based Running
Waterfront Social Run Club
Even avid runners can lose motivation. This year, Waterfront introduced a new tradition: beer stops. The three- mile loop starts at Eppig Brewing in Point Loma, then heads to Fathom Bistro for a beer before completing the next 1.5 miles. Finish up with a post-run brew at Eppig, obviously.
Mission Bay Basketball Court
Madeline Yang
Sailing Lessons by Jack Sparrow Himself
Harbor Sailboats
San Diego’s maritime history runs deep. America’s Cups have a permanent home here. Harbor Sailboats—seven-time winner of the “ASA School of the Year”—offers sailing courses taught by longtime sea dogs. You know, the type of no- nonsense skippers who know how the wind will change by the way the breeze hits their beard hair.
Hikes in Real Nature
Palomar Mountain
If you want sky-high firs, oak forests that shade your path, and mountain peaks that overlook actual foliage (read: no palm tree in sight), head to Palomar Mountain State Park. And, since the inaugural California State Parks Week took place this year, there’s no better time to dust off your hiking boots on one of the six hiking trails (five for running).
An Apparently Easy Climb That’s a Lie
Mission Gorge
A mellow 5.7 climb on paper, The Tower at Mission Gorge will have you clipping the first few bolts like you’ve been dirtbagging in Yosemite all your life. You’ll have to dig deep into your courage reserves to tackle the crux, but you’ll be walking down that mountain with your head held high when the sun starts to set.
Floor Exercise
Mission Bay Basketball Court
Hoops here have always had a magical effect—a full regulation court, smack dab on the beach. The ball smells like sunscreen. No fence; out of bounds is in the sand. And it just got an artful resurfacing in honor of local basketball legend, Bill Walton—who’s been a member of the South Mission Beach Sports Park & Rec for 25 years.
Best Surf Shop Nowhere Near Water
Happy Battle Surf Co.
Yep, in City Heights. Specializing in boards from local shapers, owner Mark Polintan (who grew up on a pineapple farm in the Philippines) has created an infectious gathering place for surfers to support their peers. Like chasing tubes in exotic locations, you never know what or who you’ll find here, but you’re guaranteed to leave stoked.
Best Way to Justify Surfing All Day to Your Family
100 Wave Challenge
Surfers are selfish. No matter how many waves we catch, we always want more. And while there’s no shot we’ll ever change, we can at least direct that impulse toward a good cause. At the annual 100 Wave Challenge, participants commit to riding 100 waves in one day to raise funds for the local nonprofit Boys to Men Mentoring.
Nicolle Monico is an award-winning writer and the director of creative projects, digital editor for San Diego Magazine with more than 16 years of experience in media including Outside Run, JustLuxe and The San Francisco Chronicle.
San Diego summers can be brutal. But since the hottest period is typically late summer into early fall, San Diegans still have time to prepare. The pros at Mauzy Cooling, Heating, Plumbing, and Electrical are standing by to help homeowners fortify their homes against the elements and ensure their air conditioning is as frosty as the penguins that serve as the company’s mascots.
Many homeowners underestimate the load their AC system faces, especially in the inland valleys where temperatures regularly top 100 degrees. San Diego regularly sees multi-day heatwaves each summer, and a system that struggles on the first day will likely fail by the third.Longer run times, unusual sounds or smells, and uneven cooling from room to room are all signs that your system may not survive the next hot spell.
Systems typically last 12 to 17 years, but there are exceptions. If a system is approaching that, or is already there, a professional evaluation is recommended before summer really heats up. A good rule of thumb: If you can’t remember when your system was last serviced, it’s due.
“As technology changes, systems become smarter and smarter,” says Sean O’Connor, an install manager at Mauzy with 42 years of experience. “There are a lot of people out there who will say a system’s only good for 10 years. I don’t buy that—these systems are built to last as long as they’re taken care of.”
There are also a few steps homeowners can take between services to extend the life of their system. Regularly changing a dirty filter—especially if you have kids or pets—and keeping an outdoor unit clean can help head off problems in the future, says O’Connor.
Also, be realistic about whether it’s time to replace a unit. O’Connor likens pouring money into salvaging a faulty unit with patchwork repairs and replacement parts to “tripping over a dollar to pick up a dime.” When one part fails, others are sure to follow, and newer parts may not be compatible with older units. Mauzy recommends homeowners use the 50% rule: If a repair costs more than 50% of the system’s replacement value, and the equipment is over 10 years old, replacement is usually the better long-term value. And don’t forget the ducting. An older house that was built with heat and later had air conditioning added may not have sufficient airflow, regardless of how good the system is.
Last but not least, homeowners should know who to trust when it comes to their homes. Built on three generations of professional integrity, Mauzy has grown into not just a leader for cooling, heating, plumbing, and electrical services, but a leader in the community known for supporting local nonprofits across an array of causes. To ensure complete peace of mind, Mauzy stands behind a comprehensive 12-point guarantee that outlines its commitment to outstanding service, quality equipment, expert technicians who understand how the local microclimates affect HVAC performance, and no upsells or surprises on the bill.
“We go the extra mile. That’s what sets us apart,” O’Connor says. To get a free quote today, visit mauzy.com.
I am fairly sure they don’t let you graduate from Carlsbad High School without a W-2 from Legoland. Being a Legoland MC (Model Citizen, the employee’s moniker) is a rite of passage for all of us who grew up in North County. If you spent a day at the theme park in the 2010s, I probably pointed you toward the Granny Apple Fries or measured your height at a ride entrance.
And now we meet again. I can still point you to quality fries.
This is my first full issue as the new print editor for San Diego Magazine. But it’s not my first time here: I was an editorial intern for these pages back in 2018 (see photo). To be a part of a constant study of the city, its people, its culture, then finding the most compelling stories and bringing them to life—it was incredibly impactful and solidified my decision to pursue all of this (local, print magazine journalism) as a career. Since my internship, I’ve gotten my bachelor’s and master’s degrees from the Missouri School of Journalism and worked for nearly five years at Backpacker magazine. And I’m back at San Diego Magazine, baby. There’s a real magic to narrating the lives lived and dreams dreamt in the place that built me. I am excited to be a part of building the culture of where I’m from. And, born in Tri-City Medical Center and raised in Carlsbad, I can’t think of any other place than our North County issue for me to make my grand entrance as an editor.
To me, North County isn’t just where I’m from; it’s home. Throughout the years, I have run thousands of miles (I did the math) up and down the 101 between Oceanside and Cardiff. I’ve spent thousands of dollars (an estimation, too painful to do the actual math) on BRCs—beans, rice, and cheese burritos—from Lola’s, Juanita’s, and the late, great Pollos Maria.
The stretch of land between Camp Pendleton and the 56 is easy to love. We’re quieter and a little more zenned out than our lower-latitude neighbors, sure, but we’re neither sleepy nor boring.
Do you think Scrojo, the Belly Up’s punked-out poster artist featured on page 68, could last a day somewhere boring?
What I’ve always loved about North County is that the culture shifts every couple of miles as you reach a new town. For years, the media seemed to cast the realm above the merge as a two-toned monolith: sleepy surf towns to the west, suburbs and country living to the east. The nuance of each section seemed flattened or clumped. I think you’ll see the vastly different cultures of North County in this issue—but all distinctly San Diego. Which is to say a little mellower, fewer airs, come as you are.
It’s hard to imagine that the dusty trails and vibrant, muraled alleyways of Escondido are just miles from the barefoot surfers roaming Leucadia. Even though the SDM editorial staff is made up of two lifelong locals and other longtime residents, we don’t pretend to be the experts on every street. What a good city media company does is find the people who are experts, who have a unique hyper-local perspective—and give them the stage.
So we picked six North County neighborhoods—Oceanside, Vista, San Marcos, Leucadia, Rancho Santa Fe, and Escondido—and reached out to artists, community leaders, business owners, anyone making their neighborhood brighter, and we had them describe their perfect day out and favorite things that give their neighborhoods meaning and culture. These itinerary curators included San Marcos’ Patricia Prado-Olmos, Leucadia’s Jeff Schade, Oceanside’s Aaron Crossland, Escondido’s Suzanne Nicolaisen, Rancho Santa Fe’s Charo Garcia-Acevedo, and Vista’s Steve Glaudini. If there’s anyone who lives and breathes North County, it’s them. Check out their recommendations in our feature on page 56.
This month, we’re also going back in time almost 15 years to the Big Bay Boom. Yes, that meme-ified Fourth of July fireworks show where enough pyrotechnics for a 17-minute show went off at once over San Diego Bay. Content Chief Troy Johnson remembers the day and dug back through the story for a hilarious locals’ take on the big debate: Was it the worst fireworks show of all time, or the greatest? (Page 38.)
Before I leave you to our hard work, a sentimental note. When my parents moved from St. Louis to San Diego in the early ’90s, my mom subscribed to San Diego Magazine to learn about her new neighborhood. Now, over three decades later, I’m here—on this planet and in these pages. I thought about my parents a lot as we worked on this issue. Maybe there are a couple new San Diegans reading this magazine for the first time. Maybe that’s you.
Well then, to both of us, I say, “Welcome.” Let’s do this.
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.
“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.
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.
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.
Daniel A. Kaplan is a founding partner of Panakos LLP with more than three decades of civil litigation experience in both state and federal courts. Mr. Kaplan pursues and defends legal claims on behalf of companies, entrepreneurs, and business owners in high-stakes disputes. He focuses on business disputes including breach of contract, unfair competition, trade secret theft, securities disputes, fraud/misrepresentations, and employment matters.
“The best advocacy combines preparation, perspective, and a client relationship built on trust and candor.” — Daniel A. Kaplan
His clients include real estate investors, private and public corporations, and individuals seeking sophisticated legal counsel. Known for practical judgment and strategic advocacy, he works closely with an experienced and diverse legal team to protect, enforce, and defend his clients’ interests.
555 W. Beech Street, Ste. 500, San Diego, California 92101 619-8000-LAW Panakos.law
