Letters may be edited for clarity and length. E-mail to firstname.lastname@example.org, fax to (714) 708-8410 or send to Letters to the Editor, c/oOC Weekly, P.O. Box 10788, Costa Mesa, CA 92627-0247.
Your article on "Where Have All the Blowhards Gone?" [Nov. 14] reminded me of the several years I suffered with Hugh Hewitt on KCET's Life & Times. He made so little sense that around our house we took to referring to him as "Huge Half-wit."
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I may not be in the target audience—I'm 56 years old—but I love the show The O.C. [We're assuming this letter is in regards to either our Best of OC issue, which featured the stars from The O.C., or Matt Coker's ongoing "The O.C.Watch." We can't be certain, though, since neither was mentioned in the e-mail. It may be that this guy—sorry, gentleman—just really likes The O.C.and we were part of a cathartic, halfway-out-of-the-closet mass mailing. Fortunately, he had the good sense to withhold his name. But who are we to say? Stop being so judgmental! It makes you look fat.] I identify with Ryan. I too was an outsider in Newport Beach. I lived in Costa Mesa near the Irvine Avenue border and attended Newport Harbor High School. Being from Costa Mesa was bad enough, but to top it off my parents owned a business in the Fun Zone, which at the time was not considered the center of sophisticated culture in Newport Beach. [It's still not. We're just saying.] I've been insulted in some of the finest homes in Newport Beach simply because I didn't live there. One hostess asked where I called home. Then, tapping the side of her head, she said, "Ahhh, Costa Mesa! Sometimes when you live in Newport you forget there is anywhere else!" I practically fell down laughing but her husband, a close friend, felt like crawling under the nearest table. I guess she still has the house on Lido. He now lives near Reno with his former personal assistant and is doing just fine.
Name withheld by request
After reading the rantings of the California Coalition for Immigration Reform's Barbara Coe ["Clockwork Orange," Nov. 21], I was immediately reminded of my uncle Victor, who passed away a couple of months ago. Our family's designated humorist, Uncle Victor would have said, "Well, I guess she knows how Sitting Bull felt when he saw all those covered wagons coming toward him."
Not once in Gustavo Arellano's recent article titled "A Portrait of the Plaintiff as a Young Victim" [Nov. 21] did he mention the fact that illegal immigrants by definition have broken state and federal laws, and should be treated accordingly. I would like to think that Arellano simply missed that important fact. From reading his article, though, it appears that it was omitted in order to push an agenda. I was taught that omission of the truth is in itself a lie. Arellano even writes that Lupe Moreno is "a familiar presence at anti-immigrant rallies across the county." Are they truly "anti-immigrant" rallies, or are they "anti-illegal-immigrant" rallies? If it is the latter, and legal immigrants are not the targets of these rallies, then Arellano has outright lied in his article.
Garren K. Allard
Gustavo Arellano responds:Garren, 'mano, when one of the keynote speakers at these types of rallies constantly shouts "Fuck Mexico!" to anyone that'll listen, it's definitely the former!
PLAY'S THE THING
I'm writing to complain about, or question, I guess, a review written for John Osborne's Look Back in Anger [Stacy Davies, "Still Angry," Nov. 14]. It was a supportive and favorable review for a show I enjoyed just as much as the critic. So why am I complaining? I'll explain in four words: John Osborne is dead. My point is that the reviews of your paper generally focus on the script of a play and criminally less so on the performance of it. This is unfair to the actors, director, designers and nature of Orange County theater, which is constituted by many more revivals than new works. Some of these revivals are of shows obscure enough to warrant a hiccup in the direction of the plot, story construction and all that (also, fairly, some of these remakes are more like reincarnations, and deserve a nod to the old author's ability to be relevant to a new time). More often though, 'round here, it's everybody but the writer making that show unique. Perhaps I'm just a needy actor whining for more credit; perhaps I'm an excellent actor who deserves his due; perhaps my second posit proves the first; but I believe it's the honest, emotional interaction between two humans, right there in front of you, that is theater's eternal trump card over the other media. Please, don't focus so much on the work that was done 50, a hundred or 400 years ago. Instead, shift that focus to the work being done now, right der' in front of ya.
A Weekly groundling responds: You see, Martin, ye've got yourself boarlike trapped in a misprision of your trade: that those lags of us down here in the dark pit would give flatus for the players and the hands. No, we hunger for mere—but not so mere—story, man, a tale to translate our paltry lives into royalty for a moment. If done aright, we should no more see you than we see the dead.
I am a striking grocery worker. I thought Vons CEO Steve Burd was the meanest guy on the planet (single moms who have worked their whole life for the company don't need health care?). That is until I read about William D. Singleton of MediaNews Group [Dave Wielenga, "Safe for Now," Oct. 31]. He's the real Hitler and makes Burdbrain look like a choirboy. The guy is evil! He demonstrates corporate greed at its worst.
Ellen Griley's column about Lucky Strike Lanes ["Clubbed: Don't Spare Me," Oct. 31] said that the lanes were "meticulously waxed." In fact, bowling lanes are oiled on a regular basis, not waxed. There are several different oil patterns used; these are called "conditions." The different patterns affect the level of difficulty. I really enjoy bowling, but I know some real hard-cores and believed I should send in this correction on their behalf. Join a league, it's fun. Bowling chicks rule!
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