Good morning and greetings, Giants fans. What a tremendous time it is for Bay Area sports fans. The Giants are once again World Series champions, the 49ers are a powerhouse in the NFL and the Oakland A’s are coming off one of the most amazing seasons in baseball history. Throw in the Warriors, who if healthy, should be a playoff contender and that leaves just the Raiders, who still boast the Raiderettes. That’s commitment to sideline excellence.

And come December, the D-League Santa Cruz Warriors hit the floor at the Kaiser Permanante Arena. It should be semi-NBA fantastic. In the words of former Warrior general manager Dick Vertleib, ” Basketball is the second most exciting indoor sport and the other one shouldn’t have spectators.”

Former player turned analyst, Charles Barkley, who has put his foot in his mouth on air more than a baby chinchilla, once said of his fellow NBA players, “They run like deer, jump like deer and think like deer.” And that leads us into today’s topic.

I’ve been spending a good deal of time this past month up on the hill at UC Santa Cruz, where I’ve been observing the landscape and wildlife. The latter would include rabbits, squirrels, black crows, Russell Crowe, hawks, doves, pacifists, hummingbirds, a bobcat and one wily coyote.

But the animal that take center stage among the redwoods are the deer, as I have seen Bambi, Thumper, Donner, Blitzen and a cast of hundreds. Up in the woods, they have no fear of flying or humans as they casually munch away at the all-you-can-eat-brunch of trees, bushes and foreign exchange students.

Every once in a while you see them cross the road to move onto another meadow. Fortunately in California, we observe the pedestrian right of way, which means you must stop for deer at corners or crosswalks, even if it’s in an open field setting. What this means is that Bambi and her friends can come and go as they please and not have to worry about being mowed down by a Toyota Forerunner on it’s way down the hill.

But this doesn’t hold true for the rest of the nation. In a story written by Justin Hyde for Yahoo News, a new study has found that car-deer crashes are rising sharply after a few years of decline. This is just in time for the peak season, when the most deer in the northern and eastern parts of the U.S. are likely to play Russian Roulette along the interstate.

The combination of too many cars and too many deer is a deadly one, as research from the Look Out, Bambi Institute has found that about 200 people a year die on the roads in crashes caused by darting deer.

State Farm Insurance used its claims data to research the problem and estimated that deer and a family of porcupine hit 1.23 million vehicles between July 2011 and June 2012, which is up about 8% from last year. According to my calculations, over a 12 month period, that equates to over 100,000 of God’s little creatures being nailed on the road per month, which is not just a danger to them but to drivers throughout. But Pablo Picasso wouldn’t buy this. As he once said, “I don’t believe in accidents. There are only encounters in history.”

Well, my Spanish friend, I wish you had told me that a couple years ago when two drivers nailed my Nissan Maxima twice in a year, causing over $4,000 in damage each time. Fortunately, like a good neighbor, State Farm was there and took care of me. I don’t want to say that I drive defensively now, but I’m like a savant as far as anticipating potential hazards rather than just reacting to them. And remember, please don’t squeeze the shaman.

Most of this unfortunate action between man and venison occurs in the northern, eastern and in a few southern states. But the west coast has the sunshine and the girls all get so tanned. State Farm says the worst state in terms of nailing a deer is West Virginia, where a driver has a 1 in 40 chance of hitting in deer in the next 12 months. However, the odds are 1 in 60 in striking up an intelligent conversation with a Tea Party member.

South Dakota, Iowa, Michigan and Pennsylvania are the next four states where the buck doesn’t stop here. The least likely state to hit a deer is Hawaii, where you are more likely to run over a plate lunch of chicken katsu, which includes two scoops of rice and a scoop of macaroni salad.

So what’s the cause of the rise in deer related accidents? Well, you could point your finger at the deer population, as these herds have grown larger than Justin Bieber’s ego. We’re talking more than 20 million deer, and that’s with hunter’s playing pop-a-shot each fall during hunting season. A bigger deer population means more animals crossing the roads in search of food, water and good, clean family entertainment.

Peak season for these deadly incidents is November. October and November are also peak mating season, and I can tell from personal experience that it’s a bitch getting jolted by a car’s bumper when you’re trying to take care of business.

According to Susan G. Clark, a Yale University professor who studies relationships between humans, deer and a couple of antelope, these collisions usually take place at dawn and dusk. “Deer don’t come programmed to be on the lookout for cars. They have no idea that it could threaten their lives. If they were a wolf, they would have some idea what to do.” Or as my rabbi once told me, when you live with wolves, you learn to howl.

So as Sergeant Phil Esterhaus used to say in his trademark phrase on Hill Street Blues, “Let’s be careful out there.” But the final word of this subject belongs to Ellen DeGeneres, who had this thought. ‘I ask people why they have deer heads on their walls. They always say because it’s such a beautiful animal. There you go. I think my mother is attractive, but I have photographs of her.”

So for today’s photo lineup we are starting off with a shot I took recently up at the university. Then it’s on to two sets of deer who were visiting my neighborhood. I always enjoy looking out my office window and seeing deer prancing down the street. It brings back those Marlin Perkin’s “Wild Kingdom” flashbacks.

Next is a frog that was hanging out inside a drainpipe at our Kauai vacation house. I told him I’d be glad to switch locales with him but he politely declined my offer. That guy was a prince.

The last two shots are of a bobcat I shot at dusk up on campus. I had been looking to photograph the sunset but lucked out and ran into this beauty. Fortunately, he wasn’t in an attack mode and agreed to sign the release and we both went on our merry way.

On to the late night. “Tonight President Obama and Mitt Romney debate foreign policy. Pundits say it will be close, but it will probably go to the candidate who wore the ‘I killed Osama bin Laden’ T-shirt. Donald Trump says he will reveal big news about President Obama on Wednesday. Trump said he would have announced it sooner, but faking a Kenyan birth certificate is harder than it looks.” –Conan O’Brien

“Obama is still ahead in the swing states and among women. He is of course losing among men and in any states were you can buy the Confederate flag in a mall.” -Bill Maher “Yesterday Mitt Romney’s son Tagg said that during the debate he wanted to punch President Obama for calling his father a liar. He also wants to punch his father for giving him the name Tagg. Endorsements are rolling in. The Atheist Party has endorsed Obama for president. When told the news Obama said, ‘Thank God.'” –Conan O’Brien

“A CNN poll today said that 46 percent of viewers who watched thought Obama won and 39 percent thought Mitt Romney won. So, it looks like Obama’s strategy of staying awake through this one paid off.” –Jimmy Kimmel “Last night, Mitt Romney said when he was looking to hire females, he would browse through ‘binders full of women.’ Romney said he got the idea from Tom Cruise.” –Conan O’Brien

Jay Leno to Obama: “What’s this thing with Trump and you? It’s like me and Letterman. I don’t get it.” Obama: “This all dates back to when we were growing up together in Kenya.” “Experts say the entire 2012 election could come down to just eight states. The states are: confusion, dismay, depression, apathy, shock, disbelief, despair, and anxiety. Those are the eight states.” –Jay Leno “Earlier today, vice-presidential hopeful Paul Ryan gave a major policy address on poverty. We’re still not sure whether he’s for it or against it, but he was talking about poverty.” –David Letterman

So that’s our last blast for October 2012. Enjoy the festival of chocolate we call Halloween and the start of the NBA season. We’ll catch you making history by blasting three home runs in a World Series game, a feat accomplished only by Babe Ruth, Reggie Jackson and Albert Pujols and then being named MVP. Aloha, mahalo and later, Pablo Sandoval fans.

Good morning and greetings, Beach Boys fans. That’s right, “God only knows what I’d be without you,” my favorite cyber audience. Now, “east coast girls are hip, I really dig those styles they wear, and the southern girls with they way they blog, they knock me out when I’m down there. The midwest farmer’s daughters really make you feel alright, and the northern girls with the way they kiss, they keep their boyfriends blogging all night.” But rest assured, sports fans, “the west coast has the sunshine and the girls all get so tanned, so it’s the “California girls” who are driving this runaway train. And thank you, the dedicated readers of this blog, for all the “Good, good, good, good vibrations.”

Now that I got that important salute to the beach girls of the Golden State out of the way, we can move on to today’s risky business. Or in the words of Rebecca DeMornay, “Are you ready for me, Ralph?” (That was my salute to Tom Cruise.)

So today on NBC we are going to take a walk on the wildlife side. One misty morning in early June, I was driving home along the boundries of Natural Bridges State Park. And who do I see loping down Swanton Boulevard but none other than Mr. Wile E coyote (photo #1). It was like a dog day afternoon, but it was morning as watched him stroll along the wet grass, searching for a snack of perhaps a tasty gopher, a wandering kitty cat or a chocolate-filled croissant. When I took this shot this wild dog was less than ten yards away and didn’t seem the least concerned with me or my back seat companion. My dog had a stunned look on her face, or the same expression that most of the free world exhibited when John McCain selected Sarah Palin as his running mate.

After a while this prarie wolf tired of me watching him like a mental patient, so he took off on a run and ducked under the fence back into the park. I then drove home, made myself a vegan cheeseburger with some organic sweet potato fries and started work on my memoir, “Every Day is Saturday.”

The next shot takes me back a couple of years to the sands of Four Mile Beach, where I caught this elusive juvenile bobcat (photo #2) less than 100 yards from the water. It is very unusual to see one of these creatures in the sand, no less putting on sunblock-it happens about as often as a Republican politician says something positive about Michelle’s Obama’s hubby. Ten minutes after I took this shot, I thought this wild cat was going to attack me. And as many of you out there know, multiple puncture wounds can really put a crimp on the day.

A couple of days after I shot the coyote beautiful, I was Pablo cruising down Western Drive when I saw doe (a deer, a female deer) and her two fawns trying to cross the street. It was fascinating to see the mother make sure her two children looked both ways before they crossed and then waited to make sure that they were safe before she went. This was then followed by ray, a drop of golden sun. They were photographed on the hillside by me, a name, I call myself.

Moving along, a couple of years back, my daughter and I were returning from a fact finding mission at Its Beach when we came across this Vietnamese potbellied pig (photo #4) and her lovely owner. She was just taking her prize dwarf breed of a domestic swine on an outing, and afterwards were going out for some Chinese food. I believe she told me that they slept in the same bed, which she said wasn’t a problem because she didn’t snore. Sometimes a playmate would come over and they’d all sleep together. You guessed it, the old pigs in a blanket.

Back in late May, I had just finished running Summer, my golden retriever, when we came across a turtle (photo #5) in a field by Antonelli’s pond. I figured it had crawled over and was lost so I brought it home to show my daughter and to later have it race the rabbit that lives next door. Aimee quickly built a shelter for it in our backyard, fed it some chips, salsa and guacamole, as we figured we’d see it in the morning.

Well, for the next two days, no Yertle, not turtle. I figured it had James burrowed somewhere and it was history. Later that morning, I received a phone call from my frantic wife, who informed me that there was an animal in the house that was tearing and shredding the furniture and using the spam filter on my computer. Summer was upstairs barking and shaking and wishing she was a German sheperd. I rushed home and raced inside expecting to perhaps find a raccoon enjoying a Trader Joe’s four cheese pizza. But not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

I then looked out the back at the sliding glass door to see the turtle standing outside wanting in. At this moment the realization came over me that perhaps this was not a wild mutant ninja turtle, but someone’s recently emancipated pet. I then brought him down to the local pet shop and discovered that he was a red eared slider, who much like myself is semi-aquatic and can only eat in the water. It was a good move not releasing it into Antonelli’s Pond as it is much more voracious than native turtles and would have wiped out the fish population faster than you could say, “Entourage.” So we dropped it into the big tank at the pet shop and it immediately dove underwater and starting synchronized swimming with a box turtle from the Bronx. Last I heard it was sold to the Sultan of Brunei and has its own chef and waxer.

For our final photo we return to West Cliff Drive. Last year I photographed these cormorants building their nests along the edge of the cliff. We followed them as they laid their eggs and then gave birth do some of wildest-looking chicks I’ve seen since my freshman year at Syracuse University. We’ll have a blog on this later in the summer when they give birth. It’s a fascinating process to watch and I saw my first egg the other day. If you want to check it out, it’s on the cliff right before the entrance to Natural Bridges. Tell them Geoff sent you and that Eli’s coming.

One more note. This past Friday, on my morning walk with one of my newest friends of Swedish descent, we spotted a beautiful little creature popping its head out of the hole in the park at Natural Bridges. It had a white ring around its face and incredibly beautiful golden tan fur. It was not scared of us or man’s best friend who was with us and was very curious to check us out. Of course, much to my dismay, I was not carrying my camera because this would have been a perfect addition to this blog as it was less than 100 yards from where I photographed the coyote. It would have been the perfect Glenn closure.

I thought it was a ferret, and my fjord-loving, morning companion later emailed me to let me know that it was a black-footed ferret, which I found rather odd since none are located in California. Later that afternoon I went over to the Visitor’s Center at Natural Bridges and poured out my heart and soul to the ranger, who told me to get some therapy and that this beautiful beast of burden was a southwest long-tailed weasel. Right before I spotted him, I could swear I heard a little sound. That’s right, (and you may see this one coming,) pop goes the weasel.

On to the late night comedy experience. “Boy, this is a weird story. Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor is at LaGuardia and she breaks her ankle. This happened, like, two days ago. And in a 5-to-4 ruling, the current justices have voted to send her a get well card. In Iran, President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is in a tight race. This guy is everywhere trying to drum up support. On Sunday, he was on the Iranian talk show, ‘Eliminate the Press.'” –David Letterman “Speaking of Republican icons, Nancy Reagan this week was in the capital to unveil a statue of her late husband, Ronald Reagan, and she had lunch at the White House with Michelle Obama. I’m not sure she really knows who Michelle Obama is, cause she told her to really dust, not just move things around.” –Bill Maher

“Earlier today, President Obama spoke at a town hall meeting in Green Bay, Wisconsin. Yeah. Yeah, half of the Wisconsin crowd had never seen an African-American, and the other half had never seen a skinny person.” –Conan O’Brien “President Obama is proposing a new national healthcare plan that’s both inexpensive and accessible. He’s calling it Have Your Surgery In Mexico.” –Jimmy Fallon “President Obama gave a big historic speech yesterday in Egypt. President Obama impressed listeners by beginning his speech with the traditional Islamic greeting, “Salaam Aleikum.” Yea, it’s very cool. Yea it was especially impressive because a year ago, President Bush opened with ‘Shalom Amigos.'” –Conan O’Brien

“I am Stephen Colbert, and I am reporting for duty. Folks, right off the top, I want to thank the USO for bringing me and my show to our brave men and women in uniform in Baghdad, Iraq. Thank you so much. I have to say, this place is great. I’ve always loved the beach, but I hate the ocean, so this is perfect! You know, folks, a lesser man would try to pander to you. But I’m not going to do that. Besides, you would never fall for it, because you are the sharpest, coolest, sexiest fighting force in the history of mankind. You know, it’s my first trip to Iraq. I don’t know why I haven’t made it here before, but it’s hard to explain to the people back home just how hot it is here. Let me put it this way: When Saddam Hussein got to hell, I’m guessing he asked for a blanket.” –Stephen Colbert

That’s my salute to the animal planet. Congratulations go out to the Orlando Magic, whose blunders and missed free throws in a critical game 4 allowed Kobe Bryant and the Los Angeles Lakers to capture their 15th NBA title last night. Which means, with the exception of the upcoming NBA draft, we basketball fans have nothing to look forward to, except Karl Rove perhaps being indicted. It all comes down to what my wife always whispers in my ear before we go to sleep, “Basketball is life, the rest is just details.” We’ll catch in the lockeroom. Aloha, mahalo and later, Laker fans.

Good morning and welcome to our Friday edition of Sunrise Santa Cruz. Today we are featuring a late May sunset as the western sky glowed while changing into various shades of spring delight. There’s not usually much action around this time of year so I’m happy when any color appears on the horizon or a book comes out written by the president’s former press secretary bashing Mr. Bush and company. It’s good to know that there’s some light at the end of the tunnel and it’s flashing Barack Obama.

I snapped the last two photos early on Sunday morning. I was filling my parent’s trout pond on their estate next to Natural Bridges when who do I see strolling up the street but a juvenile bobcat. He eyed me, ducked into the bushes and then came back out and continued towards me and my bomb-sniffing golden retriever Summer. Before you could say “Hillary concedes” I grabbed my camera and starting shooting like Kobe Bryant at crunch time. This must be bobcat season because they seem to be popping up everywhere. What I would really love to see is a mountain lion because that is one beautiful animal that is native to our area. Or a unicorn.

On to the breaking news of the day. Egypt plans to conduct a DNA test on a 3,500-year-old mummy to determine whether it is King Thutmose 1, one of the country’s most important pharaohs. A DNA test and X-ray will carried out at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo by a group of chiropractors on a mummy found at the site of ancient Thiebes on the west bank of the Nile, what it today Luxor’s Valley of the Kings. Turns out a mummy on display in the Egyptian Museum that was purported to be Thutmose 1 is not actually the ancient ruler’s remains. This harkens me back to the 1939 Three Stooges comedy short “We Want Our Mummy” when those classic words are uttered, “That’s not King Rootin-Tootin, that’s Queen Hotsie-Totsie.”

Thutmose 1 was the third pharaoh of Egypt’s 18th dynasty of pharaohs. His purple reign is generally dated from 1506 to 1493 B.C. He was succeeded by his son Thumose II, who in turn was succeeded by Thutmose II sister, Hatshepsut, ancient Egypt’s most powerful female pharaoh behind Pharaoh Fawcett.

Egypt has acquired a $5 million DNA lab, funded by the Discovery Channel and Comedy Central, which has become a centerpiece of an ambitious plan to identify mummies and re-examine the royal mummy collection. The best way to obtain accurate results is from the DNA found in a cell’s nucleus because it contains information from both parents. But mummy DNA is usually so deteriorated that the chances of finding usable nuclear DNA are slim and none of those mummies are talking.

There is some secrecy surrounding Egypt’s DNA testing. Zahi Hawass, the head of Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities and a damn fine yahtzee player, has long refused to allow DNA testing on Egyptian mummies but accepted it recently on the condition that it would only be done by Egyptian experts in a room shaped like a pyramid. He has never disclosed full results of previous mummy examinations on grounds of national security. Hawass has never explained the reasons for this, apparently concerned that the tests could cast doubt on the Egyptian lineage of the mummies and to protect the privacy of the mummies’ families. I think everyone out there can relate to this story because after all, who doesn’t love their mummy?

So that’s it for our feel good story of the week. If you like eggs, and what bacon eating, hash brown and toast loving American doesn’t, then you’ll want to check out the blog coming up on Monday. So have a fabulous sports weekend and enjoy game 2 of the NBA Finals on Sunday. Game 1 to Paul Pierce and the Celtics. And remember to always to give help from the weak side. Aloha, Laker fans.

Good morning and welcome to the happiest place on the earth. On Tuesday morning I decided to take a trip to Four Mile Beach. I figured what the heck, even if the clouds weren’t that exotic, there would still be hundreds of gulls for me to Barry bonds with. When I crossed the railroad tracks and headed down the path to the beach I immediately spotted a big cat (photo #1) about 50 yards away. Now, I’ve seen a bobcat before at Four Mile but when it saw me it ran into the brush faster than an Exxon executive leaving an Earth Day picnic. But this fellow didn’t run and hide like a Bush spokesman, instead he rambled along the path with me in hot pursuit. And since I had downed my Wheaties that morning, I was feeling fresh and excited, like Kool and the Gang at the Grammys.

I followed this nocturnal hunter for a couple of hundred yards. He headed down the beach and onto the sand before heading back into the brush. As you can tell by my shots, I was close enough to observe his spots, his distinctive color pattern and count his freckles. Much like myself, bobcats are shy, solitary, generally elusive animals. The name comes from the short, bobbed tail or from the surname Robert. They are members of the cat family along with lions, leopards, pumas, lynxes, jaguars, cheetahs, tigers and white sox.

Throughout this tracking experience this wild animal would stop and stare at me. I thought, it’s just a bobcat, not a mountain lion, he’s not going to attack me. As we headed up the slope of the cliff above the ocean he stopped and turned. I was shooting away like Ansel Adams on meth. I had him perfectly framed in my view finder and was already thinking up the subject title for the blog. All of a sudden, he starts to move in my direction. I’m thinking, uh, oh, did I miss this episode of “When Animals Attack? I’m not a outdoorsman, I’m a blogger, dammit. All of a sudden, I’m getting Marlon Perkins flashbacks. Fortunately, this wildcat stopped in his tracks as he may have been intimidated by my Docker shorts and Hillary Duff sweatshirt.

After seeing my life flash before my eyes I scooted out of there faster than a lawyer on a duck hunt with Dick Cheney and made my way back to the beach. It was low tide and the harbor seals were basking and robbins on the sea shelfs by the sea shore. The last shot is actually from an earlier visit but I thought I’d throw it in to celebrate the fact that I’m not writing this from a hospital bed. As you can see from the photos whenever I come in contact with harbor seals, they never take their eyes off me. It reminded me of my hand modeling days. But here’s the kicker. One of my Arizona-based field scouts emailed an article about a rabid bobcat attacking two hikers yesterday in the Santa Rita mountains. Wow. I don’t know about you, but I always find that series of deep puncture wounds always spoils my day. But maybe that’s just me.

The bottom line is that while I was shooting away like Chuck Connors in “The Rifleman” all those shots of the cat were actually out of focus. My camera instead was zooming in on the the flowers and brush in front of Miss Kitty. I was excited as a schoolgirl when I came home and downloaded these shots. I already had National Geographic on the speed dial. I was disappointed, kind of like when I saw my SAT scores. But in the words of Chelsea Clinton and Fleetwood Mac, “Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow, it’ll be here, better than before, yesterday’s gone, yesterday’s gone.” Or in the words of yours truly, don’t put off today what you can put off tomorrow.

So have a tremendous sports weekend, enjoy the final matzo brei filled days of Passover and we’ll catch you for sunrise Monday. As for me, I’ll be hunting the big cats. Either that or watching enough NBA playoff basketball to make your eyes bleed. Catch you down low. Aloha.