Good morning and greetings, change of season fans. Well, the weather was simply delightful for the first week of summer, with temperatures in the high 70’s and the fog at a minimum. Unfortunately, there is no precipitation in the forseeable horizon, as we are in the midst of a severe drought, with 2103 being the driest year in California history.

Now contrast this historic lack of precipitation to what happened in Minnesota last week, in the land of Kevin Love and a 1,000 Laker fans. Folks in the twin cities experienced severe weather with record rainfall, as the rivers were raging while people were being flash flooded out of the better homes and gardens. In the words of writer Jarod Kintz, “I love it when the streets near my house get flooded, because it’s the only time I can go out and walk my fish.
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Meanwhile, here on the Central Coast, we’re as dry as my mother-in law’s brisket, while throughout the midwest people are doing the backstroke in their living rooms, as they are dealing with the worst flooding in decades.

It’s not that I would mind boaters canoeing through my bedroom. Hey, I’d like fly fishing from my dining room table, but these extreme summer storms are no joke.

The Mississippi River was at its highest level in 15 years, totally bloated by the torrential amounts of rainfall, as Minnesotans are experiencing their wettest summer on record.

Fortunately, late in the week, the river crested, according to four out of five dentists who recommend Crest for their patients in the Twin Cities area.

Now on to the nuttiest meteorlogical story of the week. Sean O’Connor is one lucky man. Last week, the Georgia resident was about to rake up some leaves in his driveway when a bolt of lightning struck him in his right leg’s steel-toed boot.

A few minutes later he picked himself up off the ground. He had a taste of blood in his mouth and he realized his leg hair was singed. Or as the Bowery Boys’ Slip Mahoney might have put it, “Sometimes bread cast out over the water comes back as burnt toast.

Sean then looked across the driveway and saw that his boots were no longer on his feet and that one of them was smoldering. He then realized he’d been hit by lightning and had taken up smoking.

He quickly headed over to the emergency room, where doctors didn’t initially buy his story. “At first they didn’t believe me, but when I showed them the singed hair on my legs and the boots they all wanted to shake my hand,” said O’Connor. “They said they’d never met someone who lived after being struck by lightning.” The doctors then pooled their money and had Sean go buy them lottery tickets.

An electrocardiogram scan later revealed that O’Connor had an irregular heart rate, a condition associated with lightning strikes. About 71% of all people struck by lightning survive, but often suffer from severe burns, personality changes, insomnia, impaired hearing, constant pain and a craving for rocky road ice cream.

Bottom line, Sean says he’s okay but from now on he’s going to stick to wearing sandals.

According to the National Weather Service, the chances of being struck by lightning or getting an Anthem Blue Cross representative on the phone are one in a million.

Florida is the deadliest spot, as there are twice as many lightning casualties than in any other state. Most lightning deaths and injuries occur during the summer months, when people are involved with activities like boating, swimming, bullfighting, bicycling, golfing, knife juggling, jogging, walking, cliff diving, hiking, camping, and trolling for great white sharks.

So take heed, as the Fourth of July is historically one of the most deadly times of the year for lightning strikes. I’ll close with the thoughts of Dirty Harry, former Carmel Mayor Clint Eastwood, who once remarked, ““They say all marriages are made in heaven, but so are thunder and lightning.” When it comes to lightning, you’ve gotta ask yourself this question: “Do I feel lucky?” Well, do ya, punk?

Last week in our photo department I featured two sunrises. Well, this week I am once again featuring the buy one get one free photo experience, but from the sunset files.

Both sunsets were shot from the cliffs above Stockton Avenue. The first displayed some unusual cloud formations, as the zoom lens captured different shades of the yellow and rust colored clouds.

The second sunset highlighted the sun filtering through the clouds and shining through onto the Pacific waters. Two nights, two different experiences along the edge of the continent.

On to some late night humor. “The World Cup has an official song. The official anthem is ‘We Will Find a Way.’ It narrowly beat out the other contender, ‘I Feel Someone’s Teeth in My Shoulder.’ At the World Cup, Uruguay’s Luis Suarez bit a player from Italy’s team. It’s the third time he’s done it. The last time he bit a Chinese player and then claimed he was hungry an hour later.” –Conan O’Brien

“The next opponent for the U.S. will be Belgium. The Belgians are favored over the U.S. But so far, the Belgians have been cagey about saying if they think they’ll win. That’s right, the Belgians are waffling. A big movie opened today. “Jersey Boys.” I It’s about the hot musical group all the kids love — Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. To be honest, I don’t know how well “Jersey Boys” is going to do. People in Los Angeles can’t relate to a movie about Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons. Because people here have no idea what a season is.” – Craig Ferguson

So June is just about history. You may have noticed a new blog format last week. Credit goes to my webmaster and recent UCSC college graduate Kevin Deutsch, who majored in mathematics and received a masters degree in teaching me how to post my blog.

We’ll catch you turning in 40 in your final year and storied career with the Bronx Bombers. Aloha, mahalo and later, Derek Jeter fans.

Good morning and greetings, April shower fans. After a winter that was drier than Steven Wright’s sense of humor, (“I went to a restaurant that serves ‘breakfast at any time.’ So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance,”) a thunderstorm blew into the Bay Area Thursday night that was one for the record books, as it shattered rainfall records and CD’s for the day in San Francisco, Oakland, San Jose and New Jack City.

The evening’s festivities produced more lightning balls and strikes than any storm in recent years, as the National Weather Service counted 750 lightning strikes up and down the coast between 8 p.m. and midnight. It was reminiscent of Lou Christie’s 1966 smash hit, “Lightning is striking again and again and again and again.” I loved those lyrics, although the first time I heard them I thought the record was skipping.

We had some rain showers earlier in the week that brought billowing clouds and beautful light to the morning sky. It was particularly pleasant on Wednesday morning, as I was walking along West Cliff Drive thinking, “Boy, I wish I had brought my camera with me.” That’s right, even though it’s 2012, I still roll camera-free.

It was a low tide morning, and much like my silver hair, there was a lovely glitter and shine to the Pacific waters reflecting off the massive thunderclouds above. So to make up for this faux pas of not capturing the morning’s magnificence, I decided to head up to Four Mile beach, as I knew if the tide were out, there’d be mucho photo opportunities up on the North Coast.

Unfortunately, when I arrived at 9:30, all the major clouds had disappeared from the sky, so those reflection shots I was looking for were as over as Rick Santorum’s presidential bid. I guess when you compare homosexualtiy to beastiality and state that “Contraception is not okay. It’s a license to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be,” you’re going to have a little trouble getting the mainstream behind you, for as we know, life is not a Tea Party. Or in the words of Steven Wright, “For my birthday I got a humidifier and de-humidifier. I put them in the same room and let them fight it out.”

I’ve always been extremely fond of the Four Mile of beaches. It’s less than a five minute drive from my westside abode, and I’m never disappointed when I hit the path to the beach and see the gulls lined up like like bowling pins with wings. Or as Steve Wright put it, “I was walking down the street wearing glasses when the prescription ran out.”

As I hit the sand, I immediately came upon a very rare sight, as a great blue heron was swimming upstream in the creek that leads into Billy Ocean. Much to my dismay and June, I was not able to photograph this beautiful bird, as it took off and flew away faster than my hopes and dreams of someday returning to runway modeling. Or as Steven Wright might have said, “What’s another word for Thesaurus?”

So I headed out toward the area of beach that was normally covered by the blue Pacific. The sand was strewn with brown and green sea grass and the rocks covered with barnacles along with sea stars, sea anenomes and friends. There were also a number of surreal looking jellyfish (photo #6) lounging in the sand. Throw in some linguini, clams, and a snowy egret and I was a fairly happy camper.

There were a few surfers in the water, but the rest of the beach was deserted, except for the gulls, who were considerate enough to put on a small aerial display. I will continue to journey up to the North Coast throughout the spring, as there are so many beaches to be photographed and I’m lonely. Or from Steven Wright’s perspective, “A lot of people are afraid of heights. Not me, I’m afraid of widths.

On another weather note, last Wednesday, a freak afternoon thunderstorm in Amarillo, Texas dumped one to two inches of matzo-ball-sized hail in a two-hour period that buried cars and trapped motorists and Cowboy cheerleaders in muddy drifts that were waist-to-shoulder high. It was quite an unusual event, even for the Lone Star State. It reminded me of the old George Carlin line, “There was a freak accident on the San Diego Freeway today as six freaks in a van hit two freaks in a Volkswagen.”

On to some late night humor. “Today was the annual White House Easter Egg Roll – or, as the Republicans call it, ‘President Obama’s Socialist Egg Redistribution Program.’” –Jay Leno “Over the weekend, Mitt Romney was actually spotted body-boarding in California. Romney would’ve gone surfing, but you know, he hates standing for something. Mitt Romney has spent $53 million on ads, and Rick Santorum has spent $9 million. Meanwhile, Newt Gingrich drew a poster with his name on it and showed up in the background of the ‘Today’ show.” –Jimmy Fallon

“The earth’s population is now well past 7 billion people. And still, the Republicans can’t find one candidate they really like. “Rick Santorum’s campaign is now formally calling on Newt Gingrich to drop out of the race. But you know Newt. He has vowed to stay in. And believe me, when Newt Gingrich takes a vow, he keeps it — unless, of course, you know, marriage.” –Jay Leno “Today in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, Rick Santorum officially dropped out of the Republican race. Gettysburg was a great choice because he should’ve dropped out four score and seven years ago.” –Jimmy Fallon

“Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid says he wants airport security workers to be nicer to foreigners. Could we be any nicer? They cross our borders whenever they want, they get jobs, they get bargain college tuition, we give them driver’s licenses, we never ask them to leave. How much nicer can we be?” –Jay Leno “Florida congressman Allen West made an interesting statement yesterday. He believes there are about 78 to 81 members of the Democratic Party who are members of the Communist Party. Really? I think it’s time for someone to lay off the Tom Clancy novels.” –Jimmy Kimmel

So that’s our mid-April report. We had some more severe weather over the weekend, as violent storm cells spawned killer tornadoes that blew threw the midwest, bringing torrential rain and ping pong-ball-sized hail. Meanwhile, the extreme five-year drought continues to haunt farmers in Georgia. The weather in this country is wackier than the North Korean rocket program.

We’ll catch you playing tremendous defense and being the steal of the draft. Aloha, mahalo and later, Iman Shumpert fans.