Letters may be edited for clarity and length. E-mail to email@example.com, fax to (714) 708-8410 or send to Letters to the Editor, c/oOC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247.
THE LAST TO KNOW
CBS scooped you guys! Thursday, Dec. 11, they showed an "exclusive" broadcast of the sheriff's tape about the [Assistant Sheriff Don] Haidl kid's pot bust. Uh, didn't you publish that a couple of weeks ago in text form [R. Scott Moxley's "Our Sheriff's Little Secret," Dec. 5]? If I were you I'd be contacting my lawyers. If I actually had a lawyer.
The editor responds: Yes.
I actually quit eating at Carl's Jr. for several years because of their vile, gross burping commercials [Steve Lowery's "You Can't Beat Their Meat," Dec. 5]. I called up their offices and told them I prayed on my knees for CKE's bankruptcy. My hatred for Carl's became more obsessive with each new vile commercial … it's lucky I'm not incarcerated. I started eating there again last year because the more vile commercials stopped and those $6 chili-guacamole burgers looked so good. My first thoughts of looking at Hugh Hefner in these latest commercials was that he wears those pajamas now because that's how I remember my grandpa in the rest home when he was about Hugh's age. It also disturbed me to see how Hugh bit into that burger; it just looked weird. So to read Steve Lowery describe it as "terrapin-like snipes," well, it was Belly Laff City. I can't wait to see the commercial again.
WE PREFER IRVILE
I think that previous letter claiming that Newport Beach residents can be snobby to outsiders was way off the mark [Letters, Dec. 5]. It's true a friend of mine at Corona del Mar High School who had recently moved to Newport Beach from Irvine—and transferred from University High—received comment about where he was from. When a fellow student asked him where he was from and he said "Irvine," she did respond with, "Oooooh, Scumvine!" But, you know, I think she meant it in a nice way.
I usually enjoy your paper and usually find most of it amusing. But I have to draw the line at Matt Coker's evaluation of the Angels ["A Clockwork Orange," Dec. 19]. His assertion that the Angels are a Chicano, Latino, Hispanic-friendly organization partly because three-quarters of their pitching rotation will be Chicano, Latino or Hispanic is not entirely accurate. If Mr. Coker had been paying attention to baseball for the last 20 years, he'd know that pretty much all teams have a five-man pitching rotation—and the fifth man in the Angels rotation will probably be Aaron Sele if Jarrod Washburn or Ramon Ortiz is traded. As you may know of Sele, he ain't Chicano, Latino or Hispanic. So, should Chicanos, Latinos and Hispanics be pissed off now because the rotation could possibly be three-fifths white, European American or honkey? I think you guys should stick to trying to get ads for porn and dick-enlargement products and stop writing about sports.
Matt Coker responds: Obviously, our porn and dick-enlargement ads have reached their intended target. It's also clear that guys with small dicks and sticky fingers have no sense of humor. Look, Tombo, were my tongue not firmly planted in Tapatio when Iwrote that item, I would not have included in my all-Hispanic pitching rotation oneJuan Lackey, the whitest white guy in Anaheim outside the mayor's office.
Laguna Woods has spent car-tax millions fighting the planned El Toro International Airport, and now they stand to lose everything [Will Swaim's "Municide: How Laguna Woods Killed Itself," Dec. 19]. Which is deader, the airport or the city?
Two standout articles in a good issue! Cornel Bonca's "The Fire Inside" [Nov. 7] hit me hard. That "blow this shit up" psychic space—oooph, how I remember it. Well written and good shot, Cornel. And then! Jessica Winter's "Mel Gibson's Christ Complex"—WOW. Are you available for guest-preacher gigs, Jessica? Anyone who know how to use the word kenosis intelligibly is welcome in MY pulpit.
The Reverend Victor Bogdanoff
First Congregational Church
Since I left Orange County for the wilds of the Bay Area, I have been sustained by the wit and wisdom of OC Weekly. I even feel a twinge of homesickness while reading your pages. I am emotionally at home in this part of the world, and never felt any kinship with the insanity of Orange County, but I must admit I miss the cutting commentary on the OC lifestyle found on your pages.
I used to live near the one-time mayor of Huntington Beach and had the honor of having the mayor bring Dana Rohrabacher into my house to sign his nominating petition—something I was not able to bring myself to do. I also once had an interesting discussion with Rohrabacher about the excessive use of police power exhibited by the Huntington Beach police in taking Mrs. Rohrabacher's sign away from her so she could not carry it in the Fourth of July parade. It said "Freedom to Dance in Huntington Beach" and was considered political speech, prohibited from the parade.
I still enjoy the comments of Cornel Bonca and am forever reminded of his comments on the normalcy of living in the same community with a known pedophile in Newport Beach, and why not let your kids get Halloween candy from him?
I guess it is in the context of OC Weeklyand Orange County that these are special. The LA Weekly and the SF Weekly are both enjoyable, but they seldom have the rich material to work with that you in Orange County have, and it makes your publication special. I consider myself fortunate to know and appreciate your work, and I think you should consider yourselves fortunate to have such a rich material source for your good works.
Robear Via e-mail
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