
BIG RED IS DEAD. Or maybe not. My 1995 red Mustang passed away in the China Inn parking lot on Feb. 23 while I was contemplating a bowl of War Wonton Soup. A girl came in and whispered to her friends words like “red Mustang” and “Mr. Fry” and “transmission.” We all adjourned to the parking lot and discovered that a radiator hose had burst and a pool of green soup was heading for the alley. I called PB Certified and Steve Quessenberry came down and fixed it on the spot — or so I thought. He kept the car to “run some tests” and, when I went up to fetch the car, he emerged from the garage bays shaking his head like a surgeon who has lost a patient. It was only a matter of time until the hose blew again, and probably not in a convenient locale like a parking lot, Steve said. I drove the car home and, mindful of the fact that my last two cars had come from Hertz car sales, I got on the Web. Let’s just say that the days are gone when you could go to the Hertz car lot and buy a car. After three days without a happy solution from Hertz, I ventured into San Diego County Credit Union next to Staples. Within the hour, Stefanie Eberhart got me a car loan and a car. Later that day, a 2010 White Toyota Corolla was delivered to the credit union. Beth Theiss patiently led me through the paperwork and soon had me back on the road. I was on a roll now. Willie Skinner stopped by to show me the Buccaneer Boulevard signs he had made for Mission Bay High and suggested I call Ray Hamel if I wanted to sell the Mustang. Ray and I reached a quick deal, so everyone is happy. Maybe I’ll see Big Red as I travel through town in my Corolla. Maybe I’ll call him “Whitey.” I RAN INTO ROBERT HORSTMAN during lunch on the patio of Casa Guadalajara in Old Town. I reminded him of the grand opening (like he could forget) of California First Bank, where Union Bank is today on the northeast corner of Jewell and Garnet. I had received what I assumed was a special engraved invitation to the event, my being a Town Council director and all. I’ll bet 200 people surged into the bank when the doors opened. An employee stood at each of the teller windows pouring samples of wine. Delicious hors d’oeuvres were on every table. It wasn’t long before shrimp cocktails were being ground into the new carpet along with large pools of red wine. I always wondered if they had to replace the carpet. Bob said they were able to clean it, and recalled the fact that he slept fitfully that night, dreaming he was going round and round in a laundry drier. IT’S A BRAVE NEW WORLD. I was chatting up a young woman at Starbucks last week when she smiled and said, “You don’t remember me, do you? It’s probably because I died my hair and got a boob job.” How do you respond to that? I was going to mention my new car, but it seemed to pale in comparison to her purchase. ESKIHOS? That’s the name April Porro has given girls wearing the new fashion ensemble — Ugg boots and short shorts. — John Fry may be reached at 272-6655 or [email protected].