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How the pandemic convinced us all to adopt telehealth, made San Diego's top docs social media stars, and changed healthcare forever
Influencer Doctors-lipstick
Stacy Keck
It was late one night in early March 2020, and Rebecca Fielding-Miller was on her laptop after putting her toddler to bed. As an epidemiologist at UC San Diego who specialized in infectious disease in sub-Saharan Africa, she was paying attention to the early spread of the Covid-19 pandemic and sensed what was coming.
That night, Fielding-Miller took case data from the San Diego County website and made a graph–not for research but simply to see what was going on. Then, she posted the graph on Facebook. A friend tagged Scott Lewis, editor of Voice of San Diego, and the next day Lewis called Fielding-Miller for an interview.
“It just kind of started snowballing from there, which was a little bit surprising and not what I anticipated,” Fielding-Miller says. “I would do an interview, and then somebody would see me or something I said and thought it sounded coherent, and then they would call me up, and I would speak to the next person.”
She had done just one media interview before Covid-19, and now, more than two years later, she’s done more than she can count, with outlets from Voice of San Diego and KPBS to USA Today and The Guardian. “Scientists can’t talk like [the average person],” Fielding-Miller says. “I don’t know what it is, but I understand. I recognize that one of the reasons that people call me up is because I can talk like a person. And that’s just not training that scientists get.”
Influencer Doctors-Phone
Fielding-Miller does talk like an everyday person–she’s lively and engaged and even funny. She’s also an expert in the spread of infectious diseases. The combination has made her into one of several local Covid-19 celebrity health experts–doctors and researchers who journalists call on to share information, give health advice, and generally try to make sense of this truly novel pandemic that has consumed everyone’s lives.
For years, healthcare professionals and insurance companies have been trying to get patients to embrace a certain amount of telehealth or remote consultations. The adoption was slow, and people were understandably reticent. The pandemic changed all that.
For the first time in American medical history, during the pandemic, people began getting their health information not from their own physicians but through doctors speaking via news stories, in soundbites on TV, or in short posts on Twitter. And it changed the lives and practices of those doctors. It exposed weaknesses in government health agencies and our healthcare system, leaving many with lingering misinformation about Covid-19 that has damaged public health on a larger scale.
“The Trump administration really tried to play down the virus, especially in the beginning, and there weren’t good federal guidelines. And so everybody was looking for an expert on something that nobody was an expert in,” Fielding-Miller says.
Doctors in the media have long been a thing. Of course, there are the medical dramas– General Hospital, M*A*S*H, ER, and Grey’s Anatomy–but there have also been several medical TV news shows. In 2003, Dr. Mehmet Oz launched his first TV show Second Opinion with Dr. Oz, and he became a regular TV personality through the 2000s. The Doctors, a news talk show offering medical advice, started in 2008. Then, during Covid-19, as the top news story for the entire planet became health-related, doctors became constant guests on TV news and regular sources in news stories.
Before Covid-19, Dr. Abisola Olulade, a family medicine doctor at Sharp, had done one media interview about vaping for CBS San Diego. Fast forward to February 2020, she was once again tapped as a source regarding Covid-19. Now, she’s done hundreds of interviews for outlets ranging from local TV to national publications, including Forbes, The Atlantic, Cosmopolitan, and NPR.
Influencer Doctors-Chart
“When I look back and think about the fact that I’ve been a full-time practicing physician as well, sometimes it’s been just really crazy,” she says. “There are times when I was interviewed four times in one day by different stations, back to back.”
Dr. Olulade learned how to communicate health information in a way that balances “educating people, not causing them to be panicked, and being reassuring as much as you can, but also being very honest.”
She says she’s always had a good bedside manner, which translates onto the screen. “Next to being competent, a good bedside manner is probably the most important thing for a medical provider to have,” she says. “You can have all the knowledge in the world, but if you can’t communicate it in the right way to your patient, it’s totally pointless. It is important to convey information in a clear and concise manner that is respectful, nonjudgmental, and empathetic.”
She says sometimes she was recognized on the street (other doctors said they weren’t), a new phenomenon in her world which is typically a private, closed-door experience with patients. Anyone who’s been on TV knows it takes a bit of putting together to not look shadowy, ghostly, or wholly unprepared for the on-screen experience.
“I do prefer to wear makeup for interviews,” she says, “but I can’t exactly do it in the morning because it gets ruined by the mask, so I do it immediately prior to interviews. It’s an added time commitment in addition to preparing for what I am going to say in the interviews. Lighting is also important. I have gone through several lighting kits both at home and in my office. I would recommend using one.”
Fielding-Miller also started paying more attention to her appearance–and that of her office–due to TV. “I wore a lot more makeup than I would have otherwise,” she says. “My usual amount is none, but I realized that some mascara and good red lipstick make a difference on camera. I keep an extra tube of lipstick and some eyeshadow in my office at work now in case I get asked to do an interview that I hadn’t planned on.”
She also changed up her office, making it Zoom-ready. She hung a “very cute, bold curtain from Anthropologie” over the window, added throw pillows for the couch and liked to play around with the bookshelf behind her. “There is often a copy of How to Survive a Plague back there, and sometimes the board game Pandemic,” she says.
For Fielding-Miller, another big lesson was learning about the different types of media outlets and what each needed. “Some people do long, thoughtful investigations where they do background reading and they really want to give an accurate portrayal, and some you just have to get news on at 5 o’clock and they want the soundbite, and they’re done,” she says. “Both are valid things, and I get it. People watch the 5 o’clock news, and people hear things in soundbites. And so I want people to hear the clip that says, ‘Hey, maybe wear a mask.’ If that is the sound bite I can get out into the world, then that’s all right.”
Dr. Mark Sawyer, an infectious disease specialist at Rady Children’s Hospital, has done tons of interviews, especially about Covid-19 vaccines, and recalls one interview with a local TV station that was a challenge. “Clearly, the agenda of the person doing the interview was to cast a negative light on immunizations for Covid-19, and they wouldn’t accept my explanations for why I didn’t agree with that approach,” he says. “We ended up agreeing to disagree at the end.”
Meanwhile, Dr. Christopher Longhurst, now the chief medical officer at UC San Diego Health, says he worked with his media relations department to learn how to “frame things” during interviews. Before Covid-19, he had done one interview. Now he averages about five a month. “There were a couple of interviews where I flopped and said things I wish I hadn’t, and our media folks were patient with me,” he says. But, he notes, he never had a bad experience with a reporter editing his soundbites incorrectly, and though he didn’t always get much airtime, he felt the stories were always accurate.
“They were looking for sound bites that would play well, but they also were trying to educate, be accurate,” he says. “Even some of those in the more far-right kind of news were looking for the angles that would help people understand that getting vaccinated could save their life. It’s a tough job, I think, to be fair and balanced for a lot of different audiences. And I just appreciated the role that they played in communicating accurate information as opposed to misinformation.”
Another critic, Longhurst says, kept him humble: his wife.
“We’d flip on the local news, and there I was,” he says. “That got really old for my wife after two or three times, and she’s like, ‘Oh, local Brad Pitt here.’”
As these doctors were getting spun up on how to talk to the press, they also had to navigate where to get their own information about a virus that was so new. Quickly, the CDC began holding regular briefings, as did the California Department of Public Health and San Diego County. The daily press briefings were live streamed, so anyone could watch.
Dr. Ghazala Sharieff, the chief medical officer at Scripps Health, said following instructions and guidance from the different agencies took a whole team–people to listen to briefings, read papers, and then meet with her and other decision-makers to decide what to do.
“Covid-19 was brand new, right? No one knew anything, and there was so much conflicting information. So how do you communicate something when nobody even knows the answer?” she says. “Frankly, that is why our team felt like I should get out in the media. I wanted to be the voice of reason, but also we wanted to be the voice of truth. So, we decided to go with, ‘Here’s what it means clinically, here’s what we are going to do,’ because some of the recommendations that were coming up actually made no clinical sense to anybody, and it was hard to follow some of the guidance.”
Dr. Sawyer says it was a huge challenge simply sifting through the sheer volume of information being dispensed. “There have been thousands and thousands of papers published about Covid-19,” Dr. Sawyer says. It was impossible to read everything, so he had to pick and choose which sources were most useful.
To explain something very simply, you have to understand it very deeply, Dr. Olulade says. “The first step is always to make sure that you are up to date on all the correct information and have the right sources. You also need to stay up to date on what’s coming in terms of research and be able to communicate that on the fly.”
In early Covid-19, the Trump Administration was downplaying Covid-19. (“I think that’s a problem that’s going to go away… They have studied it. They know very much. In fact, we’re very close to a vaccine.”) And there wasn’t enough information to satisfy an increasingly concerned public.
“The federal government was not putting out trustworthy evidence-based guidelines, and we were dealing with a novel coronavirus, so this wasn’t something that anybody had studied for 20 years,” Fielding-Miller says. “The public was watching scientists learn in real-time, and those of us doing science communication were trying to educate ourselves and provide clear information on a topic where the picture was still coming into focus.”
The gaps in information drove some people to the internet to find answers, and the media rose to the demand–some of it fact-based, and some of it wildly not. There were online posts, videos, podcasts, and social media accounts making all kinds of Covid-19 claims—like recommending people take Vitamin D or chloroquine phosphate (a fish tank cleaner) to avoid Covid-19 or claims about why masks do more harm than good. The endless information was overpowering to people like Vicky Sorriso, a 39-year-old pastry chef who lives in San Diego.
“I was obsessed with the county counts, the nation counts,” she recalls. “I do have diagnosed OCD, and one of my things is germs and cleanliness. I wanted to know the numbers everywhere for everyone.” Sorriso follows local news like NBC San Diego on Twitter, plus subscribes to national outlets and constantly watches MSNBC. In early Covid-19, she could not look away, and it affected her mental state.
“It was just like a constant stream of bad information,” she says. “I used to walk my dog every day before work down by the Embarcadero, and they’d have these weekly marches and were so vicious to anybody wearing a mask.” Sorriso also has ADHD and says in the past, she’s fallen victim to social media accounts convincing followers not to take medication. “The best resource for me was getting myself to the doctor,” she says. “That was it. Don’t rely on the internet to diagnose yourself.”
Local doctors had to make their voices loud enough to overpower bad information coming from questionable sources. During this time, there was a considerable increase in telehealth, especially as people were avoiding going into doctors’ offices to risk exposure.
But doctors also saw the importance of putting their voices out on social media as well. While it hasn’t changed his overall clinical practice, Dr. Hardeep Phull, Palomar Health Cancer Institute Director of Oncology, said that he’s “very careful” what he posts, “knowing that a broad audience, including patients, could be reading what I have to say.” To that point, he thinks there are differences between social media platforms: He has recently increased his use of LinkedIn, considered to be a more professional network, where he feels he’s gotten positive responses to his posts. But he completely locked down on Facebook. “I feel I have too much personal stuff there, [like] posts from friends, photos, et cetera.”
Dr. Olulade took another approach. She launched an Instagram account where she recorded videos answering common Covid-19 questions. Fielding-Miller made her graphs on Facebook and spoke out about the virus on Twitter.
Dr. Longhurst had a Twitter account for years but rarely used it. In March 2020, he noted another doctor, Dr. Bob Wachter at UC San Francisco, was tweeting about Covid-19. “I intentionally spoke to our media team about it, and I said, ‘Look, here’s Dr. Wachter sharing a lot of information with the public, and we could do something similar. Can I get your permission to do that?’” Longhurst recalls.
Permission was granted, and soon Longhurst was blowing up. He now has nearly 10,000 followers and regularly makes news with his tweets. “I would sit there in the evenings after the kids went to bed, and I’d think about the data I wanted to share and the message I wanted to send, and I’d hit send,” he says. “Then, the next day, it’s, ‘We saw your tweet, and we’d like to interview you,’ or there’d be even a KPBS article with my tweet embedded in the article.”
Longhurst says his biggest social media moment of fame was getting Mark Hamill to tell his 5.2 million followers to download the CA Notify contact tracing app. “Luke Skywalker used the force to boost public health, definitely a social media highlight for me,” Longhurst says.
Being a warrior against Covid-19 misinformation also sometimes involves personal attacks and even safety concerns. Fielding-Miller says after watching heated San Diego County Board of Supervisors meetings where public commenters hurled insults and threats at officials, she signed up for a service that scrubbed her personal information from the Internet.
“Because, who knows, right?” she says. “I did one interview with an outlet that skews a little bit to an audience that’s a little bit less enthused about Covid-19 regulations, and I did get at least one weird voicemail on my office phone—to the point that my mentors suggested, ‘Maybe we should just get security.’”
Dr. Sharieff says there were times when her hospital altered security because “we’ve got some people that are pretty angry out there— and so they walked me to my car sometimes.” She also received threats and vitriol when vaccines first became available from people who didn’t want to wait in line–especially on one online forum in particular.
“The NextDoor people, they were awful,” she says. “I don’t know why they just start slamming you. Let me explain why we didn’t have things for you. Believe me, as fast as I get it, I get it out to you.”
Along with safety concerns, Dr. Sharieff worried about looking like a hypocrite–not wanting to be in a Governor Gavin Newson eating indoors at the French Laundry situation. “I think I went to my first outside restaurant just last week with a friend because I have not done that,” she says. “So I have to learn myself. How do I reemerge back into society? I’m not going to go to the restaurant and tell everybody else not to do it. And so it’s taking a personal toll.”
The fact that anyone was looking to Dr. Sharieff or any of these doctors to answer their questions about when to eat at a restaurant, or any other Covid-19-related question, is somewhat strange in actuality, though it’s become part of everyday life. The most privileged members of society have doctors they’d normally turn to for health advice and pay for anytime access. But during Covid-19—when everyone had questions at the same time, and everything was so new—the country’s health system didn’t have the capacity for individualized attention, and not everyone has good access to quality care.
“People don’t have health coverage that good,” Fielding-Miller says. “There’s not a number that you can just call and get advice.” Most doctors’ offices didn’t usually provide Covid-19 vaccines or testing, and doctors didn’t have information beyond the little that was coming from government agencies. They’re also not trained in public health, biology, and immunology, “and all of the different things they would need to be an expert in to be able to give up-to-the-minute advice,” she adds. So media, and social media, became the doctor’s office that gathered all the various specialists under one virtual roof.
Research consistently shows people are more likely to listen to their primary care doctors, with whom they feel more comfortable, about things like masking and vaccines, Dr. Olulade explains—and that’s a bad thing when it comes to a crisis like Covid-19. “[Having a primary care doctor] is not available to a lot of people, and we really saw the impact of that during the pandemic,” she says.
Influencer Doctors-Spine
Stacy Keck
Dr. Sharieff says she was aware of the weight of her messages and would choose the timing of her media appearances judiciously as a result. When case counts were lower, she’d be more likely to turn down an interview because she didn’t want to wear out her message.
“I don’t want to be that lady that tells everybody they can’t have fun because there was a trust that was developed. I don’t want it to pivot to the point where people don’t listen to me anymore,” she says. “So [my media team] and I kind of go back and forth sometimes, and I’m like, ‘I don’t think the time is right. We’ll do it when the surge comes.’”
Doctors communicating about Covid-19 through the news created an unusually symbiotic relationship between journalists and doctors who wanted to get information out there, and journalists wanted that information plainly, with very little spin. All the local doctors interviewed for this story say they had largely positive experiences with reporters– the facts were usually right, and the message was rarely skewed. And the experience of communicating life-or-death health information to as many people as possible left them with a new appreciation for the media.
“I have felt a real sense of responsibility to try and get information out that can help keep people healthy,” Fielding-Miller says. “And if I can do an interview right before New Year’s reminding people to be a little bit extra careful and provide information that can prevent an infection or can prevent somebody from getting very ill, that has been really amazing and just something that I don’t take for granted.”
Dr. Longhurst says he appreciates the role of journalism far more now, from KPBS to print media like The New York Times and The LA Times and “even [San Diego Union Tribune health reporter Paul] Sisson.”
Dr. Sharieff says she has gotten to know several local TV newscasters. “We know who the friendlies are, and they do such a good job of getting the word out there,” she says.
On a larger scale, she says Covid-19 made Scripps Health see the importance of engaging not just with their patients but the community as a whole. “Really, we have to have an impact on our community which does, of course, benefit our patients in the long run,” she says.
Now, as Covid-19 seems to drop on the list of pressing concerns for many people, the question will be whether they still pay as much attention to health news and these celebrity doctors. Signs point to yes. Some news organizations have expanded their health coverage, and these doctors are now out there in the media and on social media and aren’t likely to lose their followings. For example, Dr. Sharieff says there is much more attention to monkeypox and demand for vaccines than there might have been pre-Covid-19.
Meanwhile, Dr. Olulade says she’s finding patients are asking more questions about the risks versus benefits of medications and interventions, “and that is a very good thing.”
“When patients can understand things, it makes it easier for them to make healthcare decisions. They often feel more empowered,” she says. “Overall, patients seem to be doing more of their own research into health topics, and it’s obviously an opportunity for us in the medical community to corner that space with the right information.”
Dr. Longhurst says the question of whether people will be more likely to listen to medical advice about things other than Covid-19 is a double-edged sword. “People who were looking for a trusted source followed doctors and other experts on social media, but social media also clearly exacerbated misinformation,” he says.
One change he is confident will last and have a positive impact: the rise of telehealth.
“Three years ago, telehealth visits accounted for less than 0.1 percent of our visits, and now account for an average of 15 percent to 17 percent,” hesays.
At Sharp, the experience with media during Covid-19 has led to a systematic change. Dr. Olulade has been promoted to Chief Impact Officer, with a focus on how to better communicate and engage with the larger community, not just individual patients, and that will include engaging with the media.
“Public health messaging has to improve, and that is going to have to be done in partnership with the media, and I think it should be a partnership,” she says. “Of course, Covid-19 has created the rise of the celebrity healthcare professional in a way. There are lots of talking heads on cable news, TikTok, Instagram, and those types of things, but it’s just so time-consuming. And so that’s why the health care systems and organizations have to buy into it and support providers in doing that.”
Claire Trageser has been writing for San Diego Magazine for 10 years. She also is a reporter at KPBS and writes for The New York Times, National Geographic, Marie Claire, Elle and Runner's World.
We take a look at how the use of AI, hospital openings, and new advancements are shaping shape one of the largest healthcare companies in the United States
In Kaiser Permanente‘s hospital exam rooms, artificial intelligence is listening—and that’s a good thing. “It brings the joy back into… getting to know a patient,” says Assistant Area Medical Director Dr. William Tseng. “It restores the connection between doctor and patient, allowing us to actually see each other during the exam.” AI is now a routine part of patient care at Kaiser’s Southern California facilities, where it’s replacing “COWS,” computers on wheels, that can act as a physical barrier between physicians and their patients. Ambient AI functions as a scribe, listening to the exam room conversation (with patient permission), taking notes, and later transcribing everything to the medical record.
In collaboration with generative AI platform Abridge, Kaiser’s San Diego facilities have rolled out the region’s biggest deployment of “assisted clinical documentation” technology, and Tseng is excited about its potential for the entire healthcare industry.

His AI assistant, he says, “[doesn’t] miss things. It improves quality and efficiency.” AI has applications for diagnosis, as well. For example, “in radiology, we can use it to pick up diseases earlier by analyzing images of potential strokes and [helping doctors prioritize which scans they review,] based on severity,” Tseng explains.
Kaiser Permanente also rolled out two new hospitals in San Diego County in recent years. The latest, San Marcos Medical Center, opened in August of 2023. It has a labor and delivery ward, a neonatal ICU, a 24-hour emergency department, and 206 single-patient rooms.
Like many health systems in the area and the nation, Kaiser Permanente is no stranger to struggles with staffing. In late 2023, San Diego Kaiser workers went on strike as part of walkouts across four states to protest exhausting working conditions related to labor shortages and pay that didn’t cover the current cost of living. The walkouts resulted in a new contract that led to what President Biden called “historic” increases in healthcare worker wages.

Two of Kaiser’s San Diego medical centers nabbed a top-60 spot on US News and World Report’s 2023 list of the best hospitals. The publication named Zion Medical Center in Mission Valley and San Diego Medical Center in Kearny Mesa (both Kaiser facilities) among the best hospitals for maternity care this year. Contrasting a recent trend in maternity ward closures across California, the new San Marcos maternity ward opened shortly after two local facilities shuttered L&D services.
Additionally, the organization’s cancer survival rates consistently beat the National Cancer Institute’s SEER (Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results) averages. A study published in 2024 showed Kaiser patients with colorectal, breast, and lung cancers have better survival rates after five years than other patients tracked in SEER data.
Tseng attributes this to Kaiser Permanente’s integrated model, where members have access to preventive care, smoking cessation programs, and cancer screenings—along with a national referral system providing regional Kaiser doctors with a comprehensive database related to cancer treatment, to ensure they’re delivering the most up-to-date and effective therapies.
Leorah Gavidor won her first essay contest at age 5. She writes features, news, and non-fiction in San Diego.
Established in 1924, the health system remains a medical leader while tackling healthcare's emerging challenges
It’s a big year for Scripps. The healthcare institution is celebrating its 100th birthday, and in its century in SD, it’s racked up its fair share of accolades: US News and World Report has named Scripps in the top 50 hospitals for cardiology and orthopedics for 19 and 11 years running, respectively.
And it’s not letting age slow it down.
At Scripps Clinic’s Shiley Center for Orthopaedic Research and Education (SCORE), scientists are currently in the discovery phase of developing tissue from human stem cells to use in rotator cuff treatment. The eventual goal is to create a biologically engineered tendon to replace or repair the patient’s torn rotator cuff.
“This is a common injury, and as our population ages, there’s a pressing need to find new solutions,” says lead researcher Darryl D’Lima, MD, PhD, and director of orthopedic research for SCORE at Scripps Clinic.

This year also marked 40 years of the Mohs Micrographic Surgery and Dermatologic Oncology Fellowship, led for all four decades by Dr. Hubert Greenway. Dr. Greenway teaches doctors a technique pioneered by his mentor, Dr. Frederic Mohs, who developed a method of removing skin cancer layer by layer, checking for cancer cells along the way and preserving healthy tissue in the process. Dr. Greenway has performed 45,000 Mohs surgeries and trained 68 physicians to disseminate the technique as skin cancer cases increase each year.
Aside from treating formidable health issues, Scripps Health faces a growing, industry-wide challenge: violence against healthcare workers. Workplace violence at all five Scripps hospital campuses jumped by 31 percent in 2023, reaching 2,335 total incidents. Healthcare staff experience demeaning comments, verbal abuse, and assaults on a regular basis.
Scripps Health President & CEO Chris Van Gorder is part of a countywide task force addressing the problem, and the organization recently hired a retired FBI special agent to enhance staff security and safety training.

Next up for Scripps Health? A new, 227,000-square-foot, three-story building that will expand acute care services and increase the number of hospital beds. Lusardi Tower at Scripps Encinitas is scheduled to open in 2025, housing private inpatient rooms, operating facilities, intensive and progressive care units, and a pulmonary institute.
Leorah Gavidor won her first essay contest at age 5. She writes features, news, and non-fiction in San Diego.
New editor Emma Veidt gives an introduction and her ode to the once-sleepy, now slept-on North County
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.
A customized memory-filled explosion gift box is a creative way to show someone you care
Finding a gift that feels truly personal can be surprisingly difficult. In a sea of generic options — flowers, gift cards, candles, and the like — Xplosion Box offers something more lasting: a customized keepsake built around the photos, messages, and memories that matter most.
Founded by Southern California entrepreneur Jay Vijay, Xplosion Box LLC creates fully customized explosion gift boxes that arrive professionally designed, printed, assembled, and ready to gift. Each box opens layer by layer to reveal personal photos, heartfelt messages, pull-out albums, origami-style photo pockets, and hidden notes, turning a simple gift into an emotional reveal.

The brand was built for people who want to give something meaningful without spending hours printing photos, cutting paper, folding cardstock, or assembling a DIY project. Customers simply choose a box, upload their favorite photos, add personal messages, and the Xplosion Box team transforms those details into a polished keepsake that feels thoughtful, personal, and beautifully made.
Xplosion Box offers personalized gift boxes for birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, graduations, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Christmas, proposals, bridesmaid gifts, long-distance relationships, and thoughtful “just because” moments.

Customers can choose from flexible customization options starting at $27. The Mini Surprise Box includes 10 photos, three message cards, and one hidden secret note, while the Mega Surprise Box offers a fuller keepsake experience with 40 photos, three message cards, and one hidden secret note.
What sets Xplosion Box apart is its high level of customization combined with convenience. Filled with personal photos, custom text, decorative details, and layered surprises, each box gives customers the freedom to create a gift that feels one-of-a-kind — without having to make it themselves.
At its core, Xplosion Box helps people turn favorite photos, stories, and words into something tangible: a keepsake that can be opened, revisited, and remembered long after the occasion has passed.
Eighteen seconds, one unforgettable mistake, and a Fourth of July story that somehow gets better with age
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.
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.
From surprise revivals to changing dining habits, these are the shifts redefining the local culinary landscape
If absence makes hearts (and stomachs) grow fonder, then shuttered restaurants quickly become the hottest tickets in town—something a number of iconic institutions found out after taking very public hiatuses after historically long runs. For instance, following a lengthy (and extremely flip-floppy) closing process after 92 years in business, Las Cuatro Milpas reopened two blocks away in Mercado del Barrio. Similarly, Carlsbad butcher shop Tip Top Meats reopened in the same location (albeit a smaller space) after the death of founder Joachim “Big John” Haedrich in 2023. Finally, after a whopping decade out of business, Sami Ladeki and chef Alfie Szeprethy brought back Roppongi to its original Prospect Street space, where it was the talk of the town in the late ’90s. All came back under the same proprietors, so they weren’t third-party nostalgia-licensing deals. The algorithm may have ravaged our attention spans away from all but the newest and shiniest, but this proves there’s still hope for our collective prefrontal cortex.
Other local eateries honored their pasts by bringing in new perspectives. The Lion’s Share in Embarcadero, Milton’s Deli in Del Mar, Dudley’s Bakery in Santa Ysabel, and J-K’s Greek Cafe in La Mesa handed over the keys to new owners willing to take on a big task: maintain the soul of icons through particularly rough economic circumstances for restaurants, navigate big feelings from longtime regulars (who often don’t take kindly to change), and make some necessary changes to keep going for another few decades. Taking over a project in process can be a lot harder than starting from scratch. But building that feel-good nostalgia doesn’t happen overnight, so it sure helps to have a well-established playbook of success passed down from those who came before.

It wasn’t just restaurant groups from Los Angeles that decided to put down roots en masse, although San Diego saw plenty of LA transplants recently (Sugarfish, Mr. Charlie’s, For the Win, Katsuya Ko, Bacari). Global brands like Chef Fei, Zuma, and Pepper Lunch have locations of their own on the way, and upscale Canadian eatery Joey joined to the inescapable gravitational pull of Westfield UTC’s culinary cosmos for its first spot in America’s Finest City. Good to see the rest of the world is catching up with what we’ve been seeing the last few years—San Diego is a dining destination already on the rise.
Between the never-ending news cycle of doom and perimenopause brain fog, I’m at the stage in life where I’m more than happy to let someone else make a decision for me, especially when it comes to what’s for dinner. And based on the way a lot of menus look right now, I’m not alone. It seems like half the places I visit offer some version of a prix fixe, omakase, or tasting menu. Restaurants are embracing the curated experience to solve the problem of affordability (a fixed menu reduces food and labor costs, guarantees an acceptable check average, etc.) and critical thinking in one fell swoop. Omakase (meaning “I leave it up to you”) is far from a new concept in high-end Japanese sushi culture, but now that it’s popping up everywhere from coffee experiences to grab-and-go sushi and sandwiches, it’s gone from somewhat niche to nearly omnipresent.

The world got an up-close look at San Diego’s coffee industry when we hosted the premier specialty coffee expo World of Coffee for the first time this April. San Diego’s long and rich coffee history stretches back to the late 19th century. Things percolated fairly quietly for around a century before really picking up steam. Today, there are nearly 200 specialty roasters and cafes across the county, with many earning national accolades like the Good Food Award (Steady State Roasting, 2020; Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, 2023, 2021, 2019, 2017, 2016), Roaster of the Year by Roast Magazine (Mostra Coffee, 2020; Bird Rock Coffee Roasters, 2012), and the Specialty Coffee Association Coffee Design Award for packaging (Rikka Fika, 2026). Now that we’ve moved past the comically insufferable coffee snob era of the early 2000s, even java newbies can feel comfortable walking into pretty much any coffee shop in San Diego, asking questions, trying a few things, and feeling confident they’re going to get great service and a great beverage.
Beth Demmon is an award-winning writer and podcaster whose work regularly appears in national outlets and San Diego Magazine. Her first book, The Beer Lover's Guide to Cider, is now available. Find out more on bethdemmon.com.
Innovative treatment could offer cancer patients new options with fewer side effects
Chemotherapy and radiation have long been considered gold standards of cancer treatment, but they can cause severe side effects. A promising new approach called theranostics—a combination of “therapeutics” and “diagnostics”—could offer patients with certain types of metastatic cancers new hope. It’s a two-step process that uses a drug that binds to specific receptors on cancer cells. Advanced imaging detects this radioisotope, allowing doctors to then use a second radioisotope that binds to the cancer cells and destroys them. Click here to learn more about how specialists at Scripps Cancer Center are using theranostics.
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