I've mentioned here before that I'm not much of a moviegoer, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy top-quality films, especially those from Hollywood's Golden Age. (Oh, and some of the really trashy stuff, too, as noted in this post.) Hell, my dog is named after the title character of one of the greatest films of all time!
And, not being into the celebrity-worship culture, I miss a lot of the really "hot" news. Thank God, then, for Rubber Nun, Sisyphus Shrugged, and Tbogg, from whom I learned Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez are planning a remake of…Get this…Are you sitting down?…Better yet, crouching before the porcelain god?…Casablanca.
The mind reels.
(Tbogg, by the way, has launched an online petition to stop this insanity. Please sign the petition before it's too late. And tell your friends, your family, your co-workers, even strangers on the street to do the same.)
Hey, little ol' San Diego is really coming around. Not only does it rank as the seventh-largest city in the U.S., a position certain to move higher come the next census, but the city gradually is proving it is, or at least has the potential to become, something more than the provincial military border town of its longstanding reputation.
Case in point: The recent donation of $120 million by Irwin and Joan Jacobs to the San Diego Symphony, the largest donation ever to an American orchestra by an individual donor, according to Symphony magazine. (For the uninitiated, Mr. Jacobs is chairman and chief executive officer of Qualcomm Inc.)
The Jacobs's donation comes in two parts, Symphony reports: $50 million as a bequest and $70 million over the next 10 years.
"The annual payments will bring the orchestra's endowment to a level among the twenty largest in the nation, and will also supply $2 million a year in general operating funds, boosting the budget by more than 20 percent," according to the magazine.
Given the difficulty many American orchestras are having with fund-raising this year, a donation of this size could put the San Diego Symphony on a path to something really big. And that's what I call philanthropy!
Last month I noted my discomfort with Tony Goldman's proposed -- hyped? -- new name for my neighborhood, "B3," which the real estate developer says is short for "Blocks Below Broad."
I'm pleased to learn others are equally mystified by this designation, the latest expression of dissatisfaction coming from Philadelphia Inquirer columnist Tanya Barrientos in "Name a Neighborhood B3? Developer Has to Bkidding" (March 29). Barrientos writes:
Goldman paid a lot of money to a slick marketing firm to dream up the nickname. And he loves it.
"It's how the street numbers go," Goldman explained when I said I didn't get it. "They're lower below Broad Street."
Huh?
Broad Street runs north and south. Most neighborhoods are either east or west of Broad. And in Philadelphians' minds, the only thing below Broad is the subway.
"People think in terms of going uptown or downtown," Goldman told me. "When they're going toward Rittenhouse Square they're going uptown. On the other side of Broad they're going downtown."
He must have us confused with some other city.
I agree: "Huh?" Someone needs to turn Goldman's map of Philadelphia by about 90 degrees counter-clockwise. (Why do I have the feeling the "slick marketing firm" Goldman hired is in New York?)
Barrientos continues:
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm all for Goldman's project. I'm behind anybody willing to breathe new life into the mangy patches of Center City that still exist. [Ed.: Hey! I resemble that remark!]
But take it from me, Tony, that name isn't going to catch on here.
Although I share her skepticism about Goldman's mindset, Barrientos may be overstating things here. "B3" could catch on, but not if Philadelphians are supposed to accept the premise that the designation stands for "Blocks Below Broad." Given the North-South axis along which Broad St. runs, people might accept "Blocks Beyond Broad" or "Blocks Beside Broad," but "Below"? No way.
Turn your map, Tony!