We all pass by buildings every day that have been empty for ages. Nothing happens and nothing changes, making it easy for them to fade from view. I'm going to try to remember some of them here in San Diego. There aren't many truly abandoned buildings around here, but I can think of a few off the top of my head. I can see one, the old California Theater, during my lunch-time walks in Downtown San Diego. Map
Another classic San Diego skeleton building is Pernicano's in Hillcrest on Sixth between Robinson and University. It has sat empty for close to 20 years.
A third example is the pair called Red Roost and Red Rest, early representatives of the Calfifornia Bungalow architectural style. They have been vacant since 1976
Red Roost Map
Article at Preservation Online
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Sky Ground Sky: Faceplant in Flagstaff
Do a trick, Man !
The setting: Flagstaff, Arizona, January of 1993. Winter break in Flagstaff can be pretty darn slow. A lot of NAU students are back home for the time between semesters, what with Christmas and New Years. So I was pretty excited that my friend Amy Kott was coming back to town. We were going to meet for lunch, so I went out by bike to get some cash. After that I still had time to kill, so I rode by Cosmic Cycles - this is back when it was on South San Francisco Street, and when that street was two-way. As I rode by, Steve Garro was out front. Steve was an awesome rider I looked up to. So, when he said "Do a trick, Man, do a trick" I did ...
I pulled a U-turn, got onto the opposite sidewalk and started to sprint. When I came to a drive-way, I jumped, using the curved side as a ramp. I caught some good air, but then remember thinking "That's odd" To this day, I don't remember what I thought was weird. In fact, I don't have any memory of a 10 minute or so block of time.
What happened was that my suspension fork, big tire and fender had sandwiched together, stopping the front wheel dead and turning the bike into a catapult. I was flung head-first onto the street - I'm told that that I skipped like a stone a couple of times. After that I apparently took great amusement in being able to stick my finger where my two front teeth used to be ....
The next thing I do recall is sitting on the curb, elbows on knees, head in hands, with red stuff dripping out of my mouth into a big puddle of red stuff. It took me a moment to realize "Oh, that's my blood ..."
Steve grabbed my teeth, giving them to me saying "Hey man, here's your teeth"
The ambulance came and the paramedics asked me all the standard questions: What's your name, what day is it, who's the President. They took me on the 1 mile ride to the Flagstaff Medical Center. Total cost ? $1200 - ouch.
For weeks afterwards, I was a minor celebrity in certain circles in Flagstaff. "Hey, your that dude that took the header !" I was only displaced when someone hit an open trench going downhill at night - he knocked out six teeth to my two !
I didn't have insurance at the time, so they didn't do much for me at the hospital. They were nice enough to find a dentist that was open on a Saturday. A call also went out to Amy, who picked me up from the hospital and called my parents.
Amy took me to that dentist, who immediately did three root-canals on me. Such fun ! He was able to repair the teeth and stick them back in. The dentist assumed that Amy and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, which I wished was true.
After the fun was over at the dentist, Amy took me grocery and pill shopping. Jeez, I was doped up for a several weeks. I would be trudging along somewhere and friends would call out to me "Cameron. Cameron!" Trudge, trudge. They would have to stand directly in front of me and shout my name for me to respond.
The dentist said not to chew with my front teeth for a while. The first thought was soup, of course. I would make soup and ladle it into my mouth, only to have it dribble out. My next idea was to make a sandwich and sliced it up in half, half, half, half, making sixteen tiny bites which I would toss to the back of my mouth.
The doctor (or dentist, I forget which) said I could not ride for six weeks. Six weeks to the day, I hopped on my repaired bike to hit the trails. I stopped at the end of one section of the trail for a drink of water. After opening the bottle (pulling the stopper out with my teeth, mind you) and taking a drink, I felt something "foreign" floating in my mouth. I spat it out and and felt something missing in my mouth - you guessit , I had broken my jerry-rigged tooth. Ta-da !
Speaking of which, I now have a one-tooth denture in place of that tooth. My neck, shoulders and lower back still give me problems to this day.
Any one want to go for a ride ? I know some great trails ...
P.S. About the name: Sky Ground Sky comes from the tumbling view point you (well, I) have during an accident.
View Larger Map
The setting: Flagstaff, Arizona, January of 1993. Winter break in Flagstaff can be pretty darn slow. A lot of NAU students are back home for the time between semesters, what with Christmas and New Years. So I was pretty excited that my friend Amy Kott was coming back to town. We were going to meet for lunch, so I went out by bike to get some cash. After that I still had time to kill, so I rode by Cosmic Cycles - this is back when it was on South San Francisco Street, and when that street was two-way. As I rode by, Steve Garro was out front. Steve was an awesome rider I looked up to. So, when he said "Do a trick, Man, do a trick" I did ...
I pulled a U-turn, got onto the opposite sidewalk and started to sprint. When I came to a drive-way, I jumped, using the curved side as a ramp. I caught some good air, but then remember thinking "That's odd" To this day, I don't remember what I thought was weird. In fact, I don't have any memory of a 10 minute or so block of time.
What happened was that my suspension fork, big tire and fender had sandwiched together, stopping the front wheel dead and turning the bike into a catapult. I was flung head-first onto the street - I'm told that that I skipped like a stone a couple of times. After that I apparently took great amusement in being able to stick my finger where my two front teeth used to be ....
The next thing I do recall is sitting on the curb, elbows on knees, head in hands, with red stuff dripping out of my mouth into a big puddle of red stuff. It took me a moment to realize "Oh, that's my blood ..."
Steve grabbed my teeth, giving them to me saying "Hey man, here's your teeth"
The ambulance came and the paramedics asked me all the standard questions: What's your name, what day is it, who's the President. They took me on the 1 mile ride to the Flagstaff Medical Center. Total cost ? $1200 - ouch.
For weeks afterwards, I was a minor celebrity in certain circles in Flagstaff. "Hey, your that dude that took the header !" I was only displaced when someone hit an open trench going downhill at night - he knocked out six teeth to my two !
I didn't have insurance at the time, so they didn't do much for me at the hospital. They were nice enough to find a dentist that was open on a Saturday. A call also went out to Amy, who picked me up from the hospital and called my parents.
Amy took me to that dentist, who immediately did three root-canals on me. Such fun ! He was able to repair the teeth and stick them back in. The dentist assumed that Amy and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, which I wished was true.
After the fun was over at the dentist, Amy took me grocery and pill shopping. Jeez, I was doped up for a several weeks. I would be trudging along somewhere and friends would call out to me "Cameron. Cameron!" Trudge, trudge. They would have to stand directly in front of me and shout my name for me to respond.
The dentist said not to chew with my front teeth for a while. The first thought was soup, of course. I would make soup and ladle it into my mouth, only to have it dribble out. My next idea was to make a sandwich and sliced it up in half, half, half, half, making sixteen tiny bites which I would toss to the back of my mouth.
The doctor (or dentist, I forget which) said I could not ride for six weeks. Six weeks to the day, I hopped on my repaired bike to hit the trails. I stopped at the end of one section of the trail for a drink of water. After opening the bottle (pulling the stopper out with my teeth, mind you) and taking a drink, I felt something "foreign" floating in my mouth. I spat it out and and felt something missing in my mouth - you guessit , I had broken my jerry-rigged tooth. Ta-da !
Speaking of which, I now have a one-tooth denture in place of that tooth. My neck, shoulders and lower back still give me problems to this day.
Any one want to go for a ride ? I know some great trails ...
P.S. About the name: Sky Ground Sky comes from the tumbling view point you (well, I) have during an accident.
View Larger Map
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