Pacifica Riptide

Pacifica: What's in a Name? (Redux)

Here is a Pacifica "name" you might not want to be reminded of: Richard M. Nixon's house in San Clemente was known as La Casa Pacifica. (Submitted by Niki Wise of Eugene, Oregon)

Pacifica: What's in a Name? (Continued)

A group of fascists here in Eugene call themselves The Pacifica Forum. They say they’re a Free Speech group but only seem to invite Holocaust deniers, white supremacists, Nazis, and other assorted hatemongers. They have their meetings at the University of Oregon because the guy who runs the forum, Orval Etter, is a former professor there and is allowed to use campus facilities for whatever, free of charge. For more details, Google Orval Etter or read about him in the local newspaper  http://www2.registerguard.com
 
FORMER PACIFICAN NIKI WISE

Pacifica: What's in a Name?

Remember when the Pacifica Tribune published items about things named PACIFICA? There was the short-lived Chrysler Pacifica SUV, Fresh Express Pacifica bagged salad, and so forth. We just found some in the February 2010 Costco Connections, including the fountain above. Check out Costco's extensive line of Pacifica-branded home furnishings: ALL THINGS PACIFICA

Judy Tugendreich says: "If you are still collecting names of things that have Pacifica in them, I just encountered this one: http://www.musicapacifica.org/

Got a Pacifica item? Click COMMENTS below and send it to us. Thanks.

Supreme Court Corporate Sponsorships

Connemara "As Seen in Your Dreams"

Aptly headlined "As Seen in Your Dreams," the latest fantasy ad for Connemara luxury gigantoboxes appeared January 23 in the S.F. Chronicle's New Homes section, showing a busty blonde daydreaming and sunbathing (!) in North Pacifica with the blue ocean in the background. The advertorial at the top of the page spurts such absurdities as "Connemara has enjoyed tremendous sales success, thanks in part to its breathtaking whitewater ocean views." Yeah, tell that to the evacuated tenants of Esplanade Avenue. Also, we don't think we have ever heard surf described as whitewater. Perhaps the Connemara copywriter was dreaming of a river rafting trip somewhere up in the mountains. As usual, the copy ends breathlessly: "The final Connemara homes are now selling, so hurry in before it's too late." This is the umpteenth time this exact same advertising feature has run over the past couple of years as the asking price has plummeted several hundred thousand dollars. Is anyone actually taken in by this kind of flummery? Oh yeah, we also heard about a carpet store having yet another huge going-out-of-business sale. Well, as P.T. Barnum once said...

DOLORES DE CABEZA

RIPTIDE REALTY REALITY

Riptide Scoop: Feds Blow Up Bag of Poop

John Webb, our Humboldt connection, passes along this story he heard from a friend on the Russian River: "A Jenner resident rides her horse to the Jenner Post Office early each morning to pick up her mail. She has become embroiled in an ongoing dispute with another resident over her use of a public parking space in front of the P.O. Her horse often relieves itself in the parking space. One recent morning, the aggrieved gentleman had had enough of the horse poop in the parking space. He placed the smelly mess in a bag with a note on it inside the P.O. A county sheriff's deputy investigated the bag of poop and decided that he had better play it safe and call it in as a possible terrorist attack on the P.O. One never knows what evils might lurk in a bag of horse poop. The California Highway Patrol was called in. After looking askance at this obviously deadly booby trap, CHP decided to alert the Feds at Homeland Security. The Feds sent the bomb squad from San Francisco to Jenner. After all the experts were consulted and ultrasensitive X-ray equipment failed to indicate the presence of horse poop, the Feds took the next step and exploded the bag with their own explosive device in front of the P.O., which got sprayed with horse manure. After half a day and $40,000 of taxpayers' money, the Feds officially determined that it was indeed horse poop!

 

       

Sometimes I Think He's a Nut, Sometimes I Don't

PSYCHO-ANALYTICAL

He's a nut. No, he's a terrorist. No, he's a nutty terrorist. No, he's a terrorist nut. No, he's an alleged nut. No, he's an alleged terrorist. No, he's a misunderstood nut. No, he's a misunderstood terrorist. No, he's a psycho. No, he's a psychiatrist. No, he's an officer (but not much of a gentleman).

"We fight them over there so they can fight us over here."

It feels pretty windy today. Is that what you call a Santa Ana wind. No, it feels more like
blowback!

Why don't they simply institute the "don't ask, don't tell" policy for Muslims in the military? It seems to work pretty well for that other group.

DARRYL HENRIQUES

peoplesthinktank@yahoo.com

Tunnel of Love: BART Driver Strikes Out

Herb Caen would have loved this item, as reported in the San Francisco Chronicle (November 4): BART train operator Calvin Peter Tom, 49, of Brentwood is wanted by police for propositioning a woman passenger he had invited into the cab of his train as it raced through the tunnel between Oakland and Orinda. The woman says Tom whispered in the dark that he wanted to fondle her breasts, but when she refused and attempted to leave, he "temporarily" blocked her way out of the cab, then let her leave the train at the Orinda station. Tom has not been arrested yet, but there is a warrant out for him.

What, We Aren't the Center of the Universe?

Confessions of a Secret Safeway Shopper—Shhhh!

Ever since Tribune Editor Emeritus Bill Drake caught me coming out of Safeway one day and good-naturedly gave me a hard time about it (even though I told him I was only banking at the Wells Fargo ATM inside the store), I have to sort of mentally look over my shoulder whenever I go into Safeway now (again, mainly to bank, though I confess to an occasional emergency purchase). This all stems from an item I wrote long ago in my Tribune column about preferring to shop at locally owned groceries rather than big corporate Safeway. But this ignores the people question: the good local folks who work at Safeway, whom I have a newfound appreciation for after two of them helped me find my lost wallet the other evening. As I was going home from the store, I discovered that my wallet was missing. I drove back to Safeway in a panic. The checker calmly opened up the office and played back the security tape, ascertaining that I had indeed put my wallet away in my jacket pocket. Then the bagger walked outside with me and helped me retrace all my steps to the car. Voila! I found my missing wallet down on the floor next to the driver's seat, where it had fallen out of my pocket, unnoticed in the dark. High five to Safeway!

JOHN MAYBURY
EDITOR & PUBLISHER