Close Enough for Government Work

I on San Diego

I HAVE NO IDEA HOW SECURE OUR HOMELAND IS seven years after 9/11, but I can tell you this: Homeland Security is pretty tough to penetrate. How do I know this? Well, I was unable to penetrate it. Of course, this wasn’t a premeditated attack. If it had been, I probably wouldn’t have chosen a BMW 325ci advancing at 5 mph as my attack vehicle. No, this was an accident. Honest. I swear.

I was minding my own business, following a gargantuan Chevy van — at what I thought was a safe distance — through an intersection just a few yards from the safety of my office parking space. That’s when the big Chevy stopped dead in its tracks, on a dime. And that’s when my little front bumper met the rear bumper of the van — the one with the U.S. GOVERNMENT license plate on it. Now, we all know that if your front bumper hits somebody else’s rear bumper — any time, any place, in any way — you’re at fault. If it hits a Homeland Security bumper, you may just find yourself suspected of terrorism.

Okay, maybe the guy who was driving the van didn’t think I was a terrorist. But he was not the least bit amused. And maybe the guy riding shotgun — you should excuse the expression — didn’t think I was a terrorist, either. Let’s just say he didn’t ask for my prediction on the Chargers’ Super Bowl chances. This was way too serious for small talk.

The good news here was that nobody was injured. And the van suffered not so much as a scratch to its bumper — its massive, 3-feet-off-the-ground bumper. The one that slid conveniently over my bumper, taking out the bumper, the grille and a nice chunk of my hood. Did I mention it’s a BMW? Okay, but nobody was injured.

“I think we can just exchange information and insurance contacts and be on our way,” I volunteered. Not so fast. The driver didn’t respond; he huddled with his sidekick — just out of earshot — all but ignoring me, save for an occasional suspicious backward glance over his shoulder. Or maybe that was my paranoia.

The two finally agreed they’d have to call in reinforcements. A senior agent arrived on the scene 15 minutes later. A very personable fellow, he seemed almost embarrassed about all the fuss. But rules are rules. He’d have to call the local police, he said. The San Diego cop arrived another 15 minutes later. Nice guy, too. But he definitely gave the impression there were more pressing demands on his time than a non-injury fenderbender.

“Couldn’t we have just exchanged information, and left the rest of you out of this?” I asked, rhetorically. He snickered. And an hour and a quarter and two government reports after our skirmish began, we all retreated. The moral of this story — if there is one? Don’t ever give in to the urge to play bumper cars with Homeland Security. They’ll make a federal case out of it.

ITEMS INFINITUM: The ugly Mexico drug war that’s playing out daily with murder and mayhem just across our border is making headlines across the pond. From The Observer of London: “A vicious turf war has claimed 2,700 lives in Mexico this year. Its front line runs through Tijuana, the gateway to San Diego and the vast U.S. drug market, where 15 people were murdered in the space of 72 hours last week.” Not exactly a tourism booster ... Veteran news director Todd Merriman’s decision to bail out at The San Diego Union-Tribune shouldn’t do much to bolster morale at the newspaper. Neither should a memo announcing his resignation and reportedly citing the “upcoming” sale of the paper as a reason for not replacing Merriman ... Tiger Woods, who may or may not be sufficiently rehabilitated from knee surgery to play the Buick Invitational here in February, has been busy with golf across the border. He’s designing the oceanfront course for a new Mexico resort called Punta Brava, 65 miles south of San Diego.

WHAT ELSE IS NEW: San Diego designer Doug Wilson, who made his mark nearly 40 years ago by fashioning candles that looked like ice cream sundaes, wrapping them in Baskin-Robbins paper cups and selling them to gift stores, was a pioneer in “branding” to sell product. In those days it was a handshake deal, with no royalty money changing hands. Another client was Metro Goldwyn Mayer, who gave Wilson rights to use its MGM Lion logo on pub mirrors — again no licensing agreement, no royalties. And Wilson had another bestseller. Later, when he approached Hershey to do its chocolate-bar design on pillowcases, Hershey said no. But Wilson thought fast. “What if I pay you a percentage for each one sold?” Hershey said yes. And brand licensing was born. This fall, Wilson comes full circle. His latest design: a collection of products — clothing, linens, toiletries, barware, towels and dinnerware — all bearing the MGM imprint. This time, MGM is taking the royalties.

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