Artists Commune Plans to ZAP Political Apathy

Move over, Republicans. Make way, Democrats. The ZAP Action Party is here!

Members of the Zendik Farm Arts Cooperative are descending, temporarily, from their lofty commune in southeastern San Diego County to start a new political party for the disaffected.

An all-night fund-raiser is tentatively planned for Feb. 26 at 555 Union Street in downtown San Diego, featuring the rock bands Pitchfork, Wormdrive and Soul Brothers, the drum band Crash Worship, and comedian Rene Sandoval.

Zendik residents, who live in huts and tend their goats and vegetables near the remote hamlet of Tierra del Sol (elevation: 4,000 feet), believe that things have gotten so bad that something entirely new is needed on the political scene.

“We want to reach out to the 55% of people who don’t vote and are frustrated and angry at the pollution and greed,” said Chen Zendik, a writer and unofficial spokesman for the clan.

The Zendikers are forming a street theater troupe, Guerrillas Against Boredom, to stage GAB attacks at Laundromats and shopping centers.

All of this and more will be explained at the fund-raiser by Arol Zendik, the theater actress, exotic dancer, artist and traveler who serves as matriarch for the extended Zendik family.

“So many people are alienated from the present social and political scene,” said Chen Zendik. “They have no place to go, no place to plug in. Things have to change. We figured: Why not start in San Diego?”

Pros Not on Par

Just how exclusive is Rancho Santa Fe?

Take a recent proposal by the RSF Golf Club to allow up to four Professional Golfers’ Assn. pros to have special $900-a-year memberships in the local course.

They could play but not bring guests, and the memberships would be instantly yanked for bad behavior. The idea was to jazz up the course and supplement the services of the course’s own teaching pro.

Most golf courses love nothing better than to have a touring pro on the premises. A mere rumor that La Jolla golfer Craig Stadler is coming out to hit a few buckets at Torrey Pines has been known to draw a crowd at the driving range.

If a golfer isn’t available, a baseball player will do. A course near Rancho Bernardo lets a former Padres outfielder play the holes in any order he chooses, with nary a peep from the golfers.

Still, the Rancho Santa Fe Assn. board of directors rejected the pro idea, 3-2, reaffirming the principle that the course is for Rancho residents only, no exceptions.

“I think there’s more prestige in keeping it very, very restricted,” director Tony Bradbury told the Rancho Santa Fe Review newspaper.

Dueling Pens, Part 2

Poetic justice prevails.

In November, convicted burglar and armed robber Olen Edward Bell and his prosecutor, Deputy Dist. Atty. A. David Stutz, submitted competing poems to Superior Court Judge Artie G. Henderson.

After hearing Bell’s 22-line “I’m Not a Criminal,” Stutz’s 10-line reply, “Yes, You Are a Criminal,” and Bell’s 28-line rejoinder, “No, I’m Not a Criminal,” the judge sentenced Bell to 5 years, 8 months.

Prison, it turns out, has not muffled his muse. Stutz recently received Bell’s latest effort, “I Need A Friend,” a plea for parole. It says, in part:

Mistakes.

I’ve made a few

But, you see I never had

A friend . . . like you .

Life has taught me a lesson

Like never before.

The things I use to do

I don’t want to do anymore.

Stutz’s response, “Friendship Is Earned,” reads, in part:

There are many in the ghetto

Who work instead of jail

Easy money is not the way

It landed you in jail.

Go to school, learn a Trade .

Be productive in the Pen .

Show me you’re sincere and then

I will be your friend.

Dentist Unmasked

The North County dentist who performed emergency root canal surgery on Washington Redskins’ quarterback Doug Williams, and thereby ensured a Redskins victory in Super Bowl XXII, has been unmasked.

He’s Dr. David Shield of Encinitas, who attended Georgetown dental school with the team’s regular dentist, Dr. Barry Rudolph, who co-wrote the canal job. Shield got two 50-yard-line tickets and an invitation to a private party thrown by team owner Jack Kent Cooke.

The root canal was easy compared to the Mission Impossible-style timing needed to spirit the quarterback out of the Hyatt Islandia on Saturday without being caught by the media or a throng of fans.

Shield’s pickup truck was directed to a secluded entrance into the hotel parking lot; Williams made a short and anonymous dash and the pair was off.

“With team morale so high on the eve of the game, the last thing the Redskins wanted was a lot of media speculation about Williams’ teeth,” Shield said from his home in Cardiff. “By Monday, people were calling to ask, ‘Wasn’t that Doug Williams I saw in your office?’ But it didn’t matter by then.”