Good morning and greetings, sunrise fans. As I was walking along West Cliff Drive earlier this week, I thought to myself, what should I write about in this week’s blog? What pearls of wisdom should I give forth to my cyber optics? Perhaps it’s my ongoing fascination with NBA basketball? Or the top ten reasons why cranberry and apple sauce go with almost everything. Or maybe the reasons why the networks were so insanely obsessed with the death of Michael Jackson, while our soldiers dying in Afghanistan barely get a mention. For the record, we’re at 104 and counting in 2009.

So many subjects and way too much time. Mick Jagger once said, “Time, time time, is on my side, yes it is.” But that’s the funny thing. The one thing we never know is actually how much time we have on this earth, wind and fire. All of a sudden I feel like I’m Fox Mulder in an “X-Files” episode. And where the hell is Agent Scully?

So I’m strolling along on the edge of the continent on this somewhat foggy morning, wearing a jacket and then it Tony Orlando and dawns on me, why not write about the weather? Or in the words of Bob Dylan, “You don’t need a weather man to know which way the wind blows.” Every time I hear that I feel like taking over an administration building.

Here it is, mid-Julyish, and I’m wearing a jacket in the morning. Back in the old country, and I’m talking New Jersey, the only reason you’d need a jacket in July would be to hang yourself because of the moisture in the air. Phil Collins said, “I can feel it coming in the air tonight.” He was talking major humidity, my friends. And as the boys from Steely Dan know, “Any major dude with half a heart will tell you, my friend,” that humidity is first degree murder. There’s no pleading manslaughter when it comes to this summer bummer.

I used to spend my summers back on the east coast. These summer dreams that made me feel fine consisted of weekend getaways to Jones Beach on Long Island, which cemented my love affair with the oceanfront experience. We’re also talking thin-sliced, cheese pizza that God would go crazy over, Chinese food that you’d dream about and weather that would just be horrendous. I’m talking about the annual summer humidity festival, where the only safe place would be inside an air conditioned bunker, watching Yankee games while feasting on Good Humor Whammy sticks.

Throw in some Three Stooges in the afternoon, hikes along the Palisades cliffs with my golden retriever and dehydrating basketball in the evening and that’s a good part of my east coast story. But the weather was always a determining factor in whether we ventured out into the unreal world. Reports from a Tucson-based field scout tells me that, until recently, the Boston area has seen just three days of true sun since the beginning of May. I believe that’s called Red Sox karma.

I remember as a child back in the Garden State, the New York Mets would embark on a road trip to the west coast. I would watch TV and see fans sitting in the stands at Candlestick Park in San Francisco wearing down jackets and thinking, are we living on the same planet? Down jackets in August? I hadn’t put on a shirt all day and here were these people freezing in Willie Mays country. I believe that was the jump start of my manifest destiny. Or as Jack Nicholson once said, “go Jerry West, young man, go west.”

That bring us back to the present time. As you know, the weather is so diverse around the country. Hail storms the size of matzoh balls, torrential rains causing flooding in the midwest while severe drought torments the west. If you check out the national temperature extremes from last Wednesday, we had a high of 116 in Death Valley with a low of 25 in Bodie State Park, CA. That’s quite the difference, just like Al Gore would have been from George W. Bushed. We probably would have been fighting global warming and not Osama Been Hiding. Or as George Carlin once commented, “The weather’s dominated by a large Canadian low, which is not to be confused with a Mexican high.”

Let’s bring on today’s photo fisticuffs. We harken back to November of 2006 and the place, of course, is Lighthouse Point and Its Beach. This is one of those world-class sunrises that comes with the Santa Cruz lifestyle package. As you can see, the sky changed color more often than AIG gives out bonuses to their executives. If you look closely at photo #5, you can see my golden retriever taking in the morning magnificence. A great, great beginning to a central coast day, and one that I think was certainly James worthy of this cyber audience.

The late night quipsters are back. “President Obama is in Russia. Today he waved to Sarah Palin. Then he met with Putin. Meanwhile, in Arizona, John McCain was chasing kids off his lawn.” –David Letterman “President Obama went there because from Russia, you can actually see Sarah Palin cleaning out her office in Alaska.” –Conan O’Brien “But he’s over there. He’s talking about getting some major concessions from the Russians. And Russia has agreed — now, this is surprising — they agreed now to produce fewer nuclear warheads and more hot tennis babes.” –David Letterman

“It’s an emotional day. A lot of us are still mourning the loss of one of America’s most entertaining figures, who left us all too soon. But don’t worry, folks, Sarah Palin will be back. In a recent study, the United States was ranked the 114th happiest country in the world. Then Sarah Palin stepped down. Now we’re at 17. Since resigning as governor, many say Sarah Palin is now going to spend some time working on her memoirs. Alaskans are saying they can’t wait to start reading Palin’s memoirs and then quit halfway through.” –Conan O’Brien

“Here’s something wacky. Osama bin Laden’s first wife — and this guy has literally like 40 wives, well his first wife, wife No. 1, is writing a book all about Osama bin Laden. It’s a fascinating story. And it talks about when Osama was 16 years old, when he was just a kid, listen to this, he wrecked the family camel. But the book is going to be huge. It’s being published by Random Cave. Kim Jong Il today made rare public appearance. Here’s what happened. He saw the shadow of his hair, went back in his hole. And finally, David Letterman’s Top Ten Questions Bernie Madoff Asked Today In Prison. 10. Has it been 150 years yet? 2. Will someone TiVo ‘America’s Got Talent’ for me for the next 149 years?

That’s our show. My children have returned from lovely Costa Rica with enough photos to rival Animal Planet, so we have some special guest blogs coming down the pike. Sarah Palin continues to amaze me, and after reading the behind the scenes stuff from the presidential campaign, I am just astounded by this Alaskan snow babe. Or to quote Todd S. Purdum in this month’s Vanity Fair, “She is by far the best looking woman ever to rise to such heights in national politics, the first indisputably fertile female to dare dance with the big dogs.” She is as wacky with the truth as a fruit cake, and I believe has bitten off a lot more than she could ever possibly chew.

So enjoy the week and every once in a while in a while, think about our troops that are fighting overseas. And their families who are paying a very heavy price. We’ll catch you somewhere in the infield. Aloha, mahalo and later, Albert Pujos fans.