Stadium Heavyweight Sheds Fat, Stays in Ring

No one ever accused John T. Dailey, the former sand and gravel baron of North County and a longtime Republican heavyweight, of being shy.

Whether the issue was local or state politics, medical care, economic growth or just general boosterism, Dailey has always had a forum.

He’s been a member of the governing board of Palomar and Pomerado hospitals, the Private Industry Council (which doles out state and federal job-training funds), and the steering committees of charitable groups. He founded his own luncheon group and power base in Escondido, the Conservative Order of Good Guys.

Since January, 1986, Dailey has been a member of the San Diego Stadium Authority, after being appointed by the county Board of Supervisors.

But Dailey faced a problem when, shortly after the Super Bowl, he packed up his wife, Marilyn, and their golden retriever named Cana and headed for Durham, N.C., for health reasons.

The problem:

He would miss several months of Stadium Authority meetings, losing his chance to speak his mind on stadium matters and maybe risking his right to membership, a political plum that comes with two free tickets in a VIP section to all stadium events.

At age 60, Dailey weighed “somewhere in the 300-pound range” and had other problems associated with being overweight. He signed up for the rice-diet plan made famous by the Duke University Medical Center in Durham.

Before he left, he arranged for an unprecedented means of civic involvement. He would participate in the monthly meetings via speaker phone from his Durham apartment. And he would pay the long-distance charges.

Assistant City Atty. Curtis Fitzpatrick, finding no court cases on the issue, decided that Dailey could talk but not vote and would not be counted toward an official quorum.

But then the rub--when the Stadium Authority members retired to a closed session to discuss a possible lawsuit by the Chargers, Fitzpatrick held that the Dailey phone would have to stay outside.

“The Brown Act seems to imply physical presence,” Fitzpatrick said. “Mr. Dailey has been here only in spirit.”

An unspecified number of pounds lighter and feeling much better, Dailey hopes to return home in time for the September meeting--and for the hopes to return home in time for the September meeting--and for the beginning of Chargers’ season. But he sees debate by speaker phone as the coming thing for local government.

“If it isn’t legal, it ought to be made legal,” he says.

Don’t Sneeze at This

Is it ka-choo for you, too?

When Dr. William H. Hunter of Clemson, S.C., encountered a patient who complained of sneezing repeatedly after sex, he wrote a Dr. Doctor letter to the Journal of the American Medical Assn.

“This is the most unusual problem I have ever been presented with by a patient,” Hunter wrote.

A San Diego doctor wrote back that the patient, a 60-year-old man with allergy problems, was probably suffering from vasomotor rhinitis, “a fairly common syndrome.”

Dr. Jeffrey A. Wald, a San Diego allergist, noted that the vascular tissue of the nose is akin to that involved in male arousal. If the nervous system is hyperactive or imbalanced, the nose can go haywire at the most awkward of times.

If antihistamines or decongestants don’t work, Wald said, try a nasal drug called ipratropium bromide. His JAMA reply was backed by seven scientific footnotes.

A Nitty-Gritty Business

If you had any doubt that San Diegans take their fun seriously, just look at the lineup for the eighth annual United States Open Sandcastle Competition coming this Sunday to Imperial Beach.

Corporate sponsors include Coppertone, Bud Light, Alaska Airlines, SDG&E; and Chula Vista Electric. There are strict rules on materials, tools and tactics.

Best sand castle in the Masters Class fetches a $4,000 first prize; second prize is $2,000, third prize $1,000. Five other categories each offers a first prize of $1,000.

One category is the executive sandbox--business-sponsored teams where at least three members must be employed by the sponsor. It’s the fastest-growing category.

Yuppie careerists, it turns out, are eager to bring some fame to the old firm. Today the sandbox, tomorrow the suite.

Pensioner’s Life

News stories have detailed that former Police Chief Bill Kolender will receive a pension of $64,057 a year, effective immediately, the biggest pension ever bestowed on a city employee.

However, there has been no announcement about what Kolender will earn when he becomes assistant general manager of the Union-Tribune Publishing Co.

But, before he left, Kolender told friends at the Police Department that the U-T job will pay $90,000 a year.