|
|
Letters to the Editor
Take a look at what people are talking about on our Letters to the Editor page:
Why are we allowing unreasonable people to demand that we spend money to disturb the seal colony that so many people enjoy visiting?
|
|
By Neil MorganThe Old Globe Theatre becomes a nighttime boxing ring and the scene made me want to consult some youthful logs.
By Neil MorganNothing I did made my father as proud as when I won the North Carolina state Spelling Bee in fourth grade.
By Neil Morgan Is our city still at the awkward civic age of making excuses for our mistakes and then forgiving ourselves?
By Neil MorganOne million problem gamblers in a place supposedly known for its easy-going ways.
By Neil Morgan For those of us drawn to the joy of growing things, Walter Andersen Nursery is a place to drop by to see what's new, to see what's in bloom and what's out of the question
By Neil Morgan My belief in seasonal magic has strengthened over years because I choose, for these brief days, to recognize only the decency in mankind.
By Neil Morgan When was the last time you heard it rain?
By Neil Morgan Get together more often to discuss civic affairs, listen carefully to each other, judge merits and the route to success and compromise.
By Neil MorganThe loaded question at City Hall is blunt: Who, if anyone, are we still trying to protect? If the answer is no one, let's get on with reform.
By Neil MorganAt this phase, the vital question to ask of City Hall is a blunt one: Whom, if anyone, are we still trying to protect?
By Neil Morgan There may always be scoundrels in government, but that does not forgive our ignoring their offenses. By Neil MorganI wish I could announce a Pete Wilson platform for San Diego today. I asked him for one, but he's far too wise to play that game.
By Neil MorganNothing I did made my father as proud as when I won the North Carolina state Spelling Bee in fourth grade.
By Neil MorganA reader of his words once asked that about my father. It made him tremble with laughter.
By Neil MorganUnwary visitors in their cars along Pacific Highway hear the engines suddenly blast just overhead and see some house-sized monster, wheels down and seeming to be aiming for them, and they must assume that they are about to die.
By Neil MorganIf we want to be part of a brighter, better-managed city that knows who it is and where it’s going, we can’t go on waiting for the other guy.
|
 |
