Good morning and greetings, January Jones fans. Yes, the first decade of the new millenium, much like my quick first step on the basketball floor, is now history. And like the season finale of “Sons of Anarchy,” I wanted our first sacrificial offering for 2010 something special. And I believe if you click on this week’s photos, in the words of my personal choice for man of the decade, George W. Bush, “Mission Accomplished.”

A few years ago, when I started to devote my early morning/late afternoon life to this sunrise/sunset obsession, an idea floated thru my mind like a Karch Kiraly set at match point. After seeing a book displaying a year’s worth of sunsets shot from the Oakland hills starring the Golden Gate Bridge, I thought to myself, what about a book featuring sunrises from all 50 states? How stars and stripish would that be?

Then I thought to myself, that’s too much territory to cover, and besides, I’m exhausted just going to the bank and CVS, so like a garter snake, I scaled the project back and thought, why don’t I just do the western states? Sunrises from Albuquerque, Boulder and Tucson, kind of a Diana Ross, “Ain’t No Mountain High” theme. But then I thought, I need to take a nap after trekking thru the gigantic new Safeway on the westside, so out went New Mexico, Hannah Montana and sweet home Arizona. Kind of the less is more school of thought.

So, in moving ahead with this mental menagerie of early morning imagery, I settled on the idea of dawnbusters from just the Golden State. Yeah, that’s the ticket, sunrises from up and down the coast of California. And maybe we’ll throw in a little Death Valley, Squaw Valley and in keeping with my new totally organic vegan lifestyle, a couple of Nature Valley granola bars.

But then I thought, it’s an awfully large state, and for sunrise workers the day ends absurdly early, so I thought, forget the whole state, we’ll stick with northern California. But then I thought of all the wear and tear of driving up and down the Pacific Coast Highway, so I got down to the Pigeon Point and thought, let’s just focus on sunrises and sunsets from Santa Cruz County. But then I thought, can I really handle the pressure of driving to the eastside or Capitola in the morning? Why don’t I just stick with my eminent domain and photograph sunrises from Lighthouse Point and West Cliff Drive.

And that, boys and squirrels, is where we find ourselves today. Somebody call Maria, it’s a Westside Story. My ambition runneth over.

That brings us to today’s photographic extravanganza. To start off the new year we are jetting from the coast to one of Moses’ favorite locations, Palm Desert, where there was no burning bush but where I burned everytime I heard the name George Bush. My digital mission was to part my own reddish Sea while bringing down ten commandments, or at least six photographs that were worthy of this cyber jury.

During my holiday tour of duty, where I ate like a ravenous shetland pony, I witnessed droves of exotic desert clouds, two spectacular sunrises, one fabulous sunset, one surprise rainbow, two turtle doves and a Partridge Family in a pear tree. Today’s entree, which comes with your choice of soup or salad, is a sunrise from the final week of December. I shot it on the back nine of the golf course at the lovely Palm Valley Country Club, where I spent ten rigorous days of hot tubbing, movie watching, pleasure reading and snacking like Orson Welles on Jenny Craig. There was no smoke on the water, but there was definitely fire in the sky.

Palm Desert is east of Palm Springs, about an two hour drive from the City of Angels, which for you Dodger fans is Los Angeles. It’s located in the Coachella Valley, which is surrounded by the San Jacinto mountains, which change color throughout the day, depending on cloud cover and the daily special at Sherman’s Deli, with two convenient locations for you fresh rye bread, hot corn beef and stuffed cabbage fans. I believe the group America summed up the desert experience best back in 1972 with the words, “I’ve been through the desert on a horse with no name. It felt good to get out of the rain.”

So let’s catch up on the late night action. “There are a lot of holiday parties coming up at the White House. Obama is getting ready to host the Administration’s first Hanukkah party tomorrow. Kind of an embarrassing moment, though. Today, after they lit the menorah, Biden blew it out and made a wish.” –Jimmy Fallon “During an interview last night, Oprah Winfrey asked President Obama what grade he would give himself for his first year in office and he said a ‘B-plus.’ Then, Oprah shook her head and said, ‘I didn’t pay for a B-plus.'” –Conan O’Brien “Big day for President Obama. He accepted his Nobel Prize today and then got right back to the business of running two wars.” –David Letterman President Obama’s daughter Sasha says that she already bought her dad’s gift. She won’t say what it is but she did say, ‘It’s something he likes.’ Which begs the question: How did an 8-year-old get her hands on a carton of Marlboro Lights?” –Conan O’Brien

“Computer technicians in Washington say they have found 22 million missing emails from President George W. Bush’s Administration. And you can tell the emails are from the Bush Administration because they all begin, ‘Dear Santa. According to a new poll that just came out, 44 percent of Americans wish President Bush were back in office. However it’s only 20 percent if you exclude comedy writers. Former President Bush is writing his memoirs and he says they will focus on 12 major decisions he made in his life. The weird thing is, 11 of them were made by Dick Cheney. Former President Bush is currently working on his memoirs and he said he’s completed about 85 percent. His exact quote was, ‘I’m halfway done.'” –Conan O’Brien

“A man in Minnesota was arrested on Monday for trying to throw tomatoes at Sarah Palin during a book signing. Luckily, Palin was able to shoot them out of the air” –Seth Meyers
“It sure is cold. So cold that Osama bin Laden was seen hiding in the border region between Palm Beach and Fort Lauderdale.” –David Letterman “The wife of Al Qaeda’s second in command is now calling on women to become suicide bombers. To qualify, they must be able to push a car loaded with explosives, because, as you know, women aren’t allowed to drive over there.” –Jay Leno “In China, an animal trainer taught his monkeys Kung fu — and then they attacked him using his best kung fu moves. Luckily, they were no match for the parrot he’d taught to fire a gun.” –Conan O’Brien

So, resolution fans, that’s our first blast of the New Year. I hope everyone had a somewhat relaxing and enjoyable holiday, as this was a difficult time for many families throughout our nation. As for myself, I’ve been shooting away like Annie Leibowitz in bankrupcty court and the six pics photo features are now lined up in my computer like jets sitting on the runway at LAX. So much like Kobe Bryant fans and LeBron James lovers, we have a lot to look forward to this year. So get ready for the NFL playoffs and we’ll catch you in running the deep post pattern. Aloha, mahalo and later, Philip Rivers fans.

Good morning and greetings, change we can believe in fans. Well, it’s December, which means the holiday season is upon us along with office parties, college Bowl Games and the pressure to figure out what gift to buy for that special boss or co-worker who you could really care less about. Yes, mistletoe fans, I’m already knee-deep in the holiday spirit.

Despite Derek Jeter and the Yankees winning the World Series, 2010 has been a somewhat challenging year. One long-time friend suddenly passed away, another sufffered a heart attack and then there was the balloon boy. Not that I’m feeling vulnerable, but I’m at the point that when I feel a pain anywhere in the chest area, I’m thinking, heart attack, any discomfort in the stomach area, appendicitis and if I have cramps, I’m already picking out baby names. As I’ve mentioned before, I’d like to strangle the advertising executive who came up with the slogan “You’re not getting older, you’re getting better. Well, he’s close, I’m getting older all right, but I’m getting bitter.

Actually, it’s not as bad as I’m making it sound, although there are some things that happened this week that made me shake my head and wonder, what in the wide, wide world of sports is going on? Let’s start with Tiger Woods, or should I say, Tiger Wouldn’t? You’ve got a gorgeous Swedish wife who makes delicious pancakes, two beautiful kids and enough money to buy Hannah Montana and you can’t keep it in your pants? Do the words honesty, trust or faithfulness mean anything to you or your caddie? Then again, he’s no different than Bill Clinton, John Edwards, Eliot Spitzer, half the Republican lawmakers and a multitude of sports superstars. I’m no New Orleans Saint, but c’mon, Eldrick, keep your putter in your golf bag.

I also find the situation in Afghanistan somewhat confusing and disappointing. I love President Obama, I think he’s the best thing to happen to this country since the invention of TiVo, but his plans to deploy 30,000 more troops to be put in harms way to fight the Taliban is difficult to swallow. The Afghan goverment, coming off the rigged election is a mockery of a sham of a travesty, and just ask the Russians how easy it is to fight an enemy in a country where opium is king. The Taliban are the devil and the need to crush Al Queda is quite understandable but at the risk of how many lives? I hate to be too serious in this blog, but the President’s decision has crushed the hopes of many who thought change was in the air. Can you imagine what he would have done had he not won the Nobel Peace prize? We’re eight years into this war and just the thought of this new surge leaves me tired, emotionally drained and Bushed.

Getting back to my aging process, this week I had to make a very easy decision and wave the white flag to my son, Jason. We have been playing one-on-one basketball since he was old enough to double dribble and has never beaten me, and due to the Geneva Convention and my personal Bill of Rights, I’ve never allowed him to win. We had some close encounters of the below the rim kind this summer but he was never quite able to get over the hump. That could have been due to the fact that I kept the score and never let him know it was game point till I was one away.

Anyway, we were playing last week and with his quickness, jumping ability and incredible genes, I realized I’d have to be at the top of my game to ever to beat him again. So, like any aging racehorse going out to stud, I told him that I will never play him again when we keep score so I can be led out to pasture with an undefeated record. Now, a bigger man would have played him again for the inevitable father-son pasage of rights but I am not that kind of man. In the words of Moe Howard of the Three Stooges, when asked if he were a man or mouse, Moe replied, “Put a piece of cheese in front of me and you’ll find out.” Or as I say, live brie or die.”

Today’s photo fantasy tour comes to us from the month of November. The first two shots are the sun rising and cascading over the water at Steamer Lane. We then head over to Natural Bridges to see some magnificence in the western skies before finishing up with a sunrise shot that should have been first but got jumbled to due global warming and my declining basketball skills. There was a incredibly beautiful sunset that came out of nowhere this past Friday, but due to the fact that I was still basking in the glow of my son’s 21 point, 10 assist performance earlier in the day I was unaware that the sky would soon be aglow and missed it. It was as spectacular as Jason’s third quarter ending buzzer beater. It just goes to show, Ansel Adams fans, that I am still a work in progress.

On the the late fight funnies. “New reports on Sarah Palin’s ‘Going Rogue’ bus tour. They say she’s been traveling on private planes to various stops and then just hops in the bus at the local town. So, let’s see what you got. You have Sarah Palin, who’s no longer governor, who’s promoting a book she didn’t actually write by going on a bus tour which is not really a bus. Her big complaint? Politicians who aren’t real. Hey, congratulations. Chelsea Clinton just got engaged to her longtime boyfriend. That’s very exciting. And I understand Bill is already planning the bachelor party.” –Jay Leno “Speaking from West Point, NY, the President announced he will send 30,000 additional troops to Afghanistan over the next six months and 2,000 additional troops to Tiger Woods’s mansion in Orlando. Peacekeeping forces.” –Jimmy Kimmel

We were a little light on the late night humor so here are a couple of jokes that will hopefully fill the bill. A guy is sitting at home when he hears a knock at the door. He opens the door and sees a snail on the porch. He picks up the snail and throws it as far as he can. Three years later, there’s a knock on the door. He opens it and sees the same snail. The snail says “What the hell was that all about?”

A guy joins a monastery and takes a vow of silence: he’s allowed to say two words every seven years. After the first seven years, the elders bring him in and ask for his two words. “Cold floors,” he says. They nod and send him away. Seven more years pass. They bring him back in and ask for his two words. He clears his throats and says, “Bad food.” They nod and send him away. Seven more years pass. They bring him in for his two words. “I quit,” he says. “That’s not surprising,” the elders say. “You’ve done nothing but complain since you got here.”

So that’s our show. Birthday wishes go out to my old radio partner, Jerry Hoffman, who shares the day of December 12 with yours truly. Jerry, who you can read at www.12sportsonline.com, can still turn the double play at second and in his mind is the Chase Utley of central coast. So for you apple sauce and sour cream lovers like myself, enjoy the festival of lights and potato latke experience of Hanukah that begins on Friday night. We’ll catch you in the right flat. Aloha, mahalo and later, Drew Brees fans.

Good morning and greetings, NBA fans. Per my psychiatrist’s orders, I was walking along West Cliff Drive last week, hoping that the edge of the continent would help enlighten me as to what to write about. And then, while being serenaded by the crashing waves, chains of pelicans and lost tourists, I remembered my wife telling me that I was soon going to turn 57. Fifty-seven! The number blows my mind. Holy middle age, Batman.

When I think fifty-seven, I usually think Heinz 57 Sauce, not the amount of candles atop my birthday cake. That’s a little too close to the big six oh. And here I am, at age 56, and I still haven’t decided whether I want to be a fireman, policeman or vice-president when I grow up.

So that got me to thinking, at this stage of the game, and we’re talking middle innings, I should write about what I’m grateful for. I’m not trying to get too personal, just trying to give you cyber readers and blog stalkers a little insight inside the mind, the spirit and occasional psychotic breaks that go into making Sunrise Santa Cruz.

Both are my parents are alive and living in Santa Cruz. My father is 92 and my mother, who didn’t breast feed me, is 83. Some thirty-odd years ago, on a hot summer night back in New Jersey with the humidity over 100%, I told my parents they should move to Santa Cruz. I wasn’t sure if they heard me over the whirring of the air conditioner, but a few years later they showed up on my doorstep at West Cliff Drive, wondering if they could stay for the night. Turns out they had sold their house and business, put their stuff in storage and manifest destinied to the west coast.

Well, that one night turned into five months, before I had to have them evicted for too many late night parties. At the time my modeling career going full bore and I needed my beauty sleep. They are now living happily in semi-retirement, enjoying the good life in Santa Cruz while running a small interstate bookmaking operation.

The house on West Cliff Drive, where I spent my wonder years (1975-89), is also where I met my wife, Allison. I was advertising for a quiet, female roommate and she showed up, spied the ocean view and asked when could she move in. I explained to her it wasn’t that simple. She then told me her father had Laker’s season tickets at the Fabulous Forum (3rd row across from the visitor’s bench) and I said, in that case, forget last month’s rent and a deposit, you’re in.

Then, after nine years, we rushed into marriage and the rest is AP World History. She is the greatest thing to ever happen to me, not including the time my freshman basketball coach stormed into the lockerroom at halftime and screamed, “Dammit, no one is playing any defense out there except for Gilbert.” Ah, high school memories.

Our marriage has produced two children and a golden retriever. Jason is a 5′ 10″ high school sophomore, with a 5′ 9″ wingspan, who speaks Spanish like the maitre de at the Tacqueria La Cabana. He is a smart, sensitive, funny kid who someday would like me to pay for his medical school. I still remember the day he told me, “Dad, I either want to be a doctor or the Oakland A’s video guy.” I am extremely proud of him and will be even prouder the day he dunks a basketball in traffic off the fast break.

My daughter Aimee is a blonde-haired, blue-eyed gift from God. She is a gifted artist who also has big ambitions. She told me one day that she either wanted to be a lawyer or a hair dresser. She knows how to make her father laugh. She has the smile, the glow and an aura surrounding her, and most importantly, can throw strikes all day as a lefty softball pitcher.

Which brings me to our golden retriever, Summer. Some say there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but when I saw that tubby, little six-week-old ball of fur, I was hooked, line and sinker. Unlike Jason and Aimee, she hasn’t mentioned any plans for the future, just that she wants to be fed and covered by President Obama’s new health care program.

That’s the immediate family. I’ve got two brothers and an imaginery sister. My brother Paul lives in Marin County and created all the “NBA action, it’s fantastic” promos when he was Director of Video Promotion for the league back in New York. He claims I didn’t speak to him for a week after he beat me in ping ping for the first time (never happened,) and even if he did, it wouldn’t have been more than two or three days.

My brother Brad resides in Boulder, Colorado and is CEO, President and head chef at People Productions, which involves Intelligently Integrated Media and delicious gluten free desserts. My youngest brother is very devoted to his work, as exemplified by the example he sets for his employees by snowboarding in as much fresh powder as possible during office hours.

And finally, as Jennifer Aniston once told me, you’ve got to have friends. Over the past year, through some difficult days, many of you have touched my heart, pancreas and other vital organs. Now, there are way too many of you to mention here, although if any of you had sponsored this blog, you’d have top billing. In any case, I’ll mention a few.
I had lunch on Friday with my oldest non-New Jersey pal, Doug, whom I’ve known for 38 years, yet, still don’t know his last name. I have a incredible friend and confidante named Nancy Mager, whom I speak to almost every day, and who fortunately allows me to call her collect. And then there is my old Garden State pal Steve, who I struck out swinging twice in our minor league championship game and who still remembers the grin on my face. Steve and I go way back, I knew him before there was history.

All right, enough of my life story. For our photo runway, we’re heading over to Natural Bridges State Beach. This would come under the heading, something old, something new. The first three shots are from a sunset from this week back in 2005, before Michelle Obama started going sleeveless. The last three images are from an outrageous night back on October 26, when this cloud formation lit up the western sky and dazzled partygoers, sports fans and focus groups gathered along the West Cliff Drive.

On to some late night humor. “Sarah Palin announced that she’s gonna travel across the country on a bus to promote her new book. She’ll be hard to miss ’cause it’ll be the only bus on the road with a dead moose strapped on the hood.” –Conan O’Brien “On Monday, Oprah Winfrey and Sarah Palin will sit down and they’re going to talk for an entire hour. And I was thinking, too bad John McCain didn’t do that with her before he chose her as his running mate.” –David Letterman “CBS News is reporting that President Obama has decided to send 40,000 more troops to Afghanistan. Obama says it’s all part of his plan to finally deliver on the campaign promises made by John McCain” –Jimmy Fallon

“President Obama is traveling to Asia this week. He’ll be making a trip to China. While he’s there, Obama plans to visit the Forbidden City, the Great Wall, and America’s money.” –Conan O’Brien “Al Gore was here in New York yesterday signing copies of his new book ‘Our Choice’ at Barnes and Noble. It was strange, Gore wouldn’t write his name. He just signed each book, ‘I’m sorry, tree.'” –Jimmy Fallon “The AMA is urging the Federal Government not to classify marijuana as a dangerous drug and do more research. That’s what they said. It’s a big story, yeah. Yeah, that request came not only from the AMA but also from KFC.” –Conan O’Brien

“Three young Americans have been charged with espionage in Iran after straying into the country while hiking in Iraq. Now, obviously, we all pray for their safe return. But hiking in Iraq? I mean — you know, if you’re hiking in Iraq and Iran, you might want to get a you new travel agent. I mean, who goes hiking in Iraq? What was the rafting trip to Somalia all booked up?” –Jay Leno “Former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer, who was forced to resign because he used prostitutes, will deliver a lecture tomorrow at the Harvard center for Ethics. Yeah, if you want to check out the speech, it costs $500 for half an hour, $900 if you want to stay for the whole hour.” –Jimmy Fallon “Chrysler announced it’s coming out with a new logo that’s going to appear on all of its cars, and they hope it will boost sales. And it should help, because the new logo says, ‘Toyota.'” –Conan O’Brien

That’s it for our mid-November report. I’d like to welcome some new folks to the blog, who I met this weekend at the Autumn Artisans Faire. Glad you’re along for the ride. And thanks to everyone out there who has read this far down in this posting. So enjoy the November skies and we’ll catch you on the far sideline. Aloha, mahalo and later, Peyton Manning fans.

Good morning and greetings, Perry Mason fans. About a month ago, I received the following notice in the mail: SUMMONS FOR JURY SERVICE. Now, I was hoping for CONGRATULATIONS, YOU HAVE WON A MILLION DOLLARS or YOU’VE BEEN CHOSEN AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL, but in retrospect, the notice for jury duty ranked a close second or at least took home the bronze.

Now, as we all know, the right of a trial by jury is a privilege afforded to every citizen in the U.S not currently residing at Guantanamo Bay. Personally, when I’m thinking privilege, it’s more along the lines of meeting a President Obama or bringing joy to a sick child, not being judged in a courtroom by a group of my peers, most of whom wish they were elsewhere. This right to a trial by jury is guaranteed by the Constitution and the NBA, where caring happens.

Nevertheless, I was prepared to perform my civic duty, so I picked out something from my Clarence Thomas fall collection and headed down to the court house. We were first directed into the jury assembly room, where prospective jurors were greeted with a luxurious spread of hot hors d’oeuvres, my favorite being the little quiches in the shape of gavels. It was a nice way to say hello although the stuffed mushrooms were a little overdone and the bailiffs ate most of the shrimp.

We were then called out by name and directed to head over to Department 7. I was thrilled that the woman who did the name calling pronounced mine correctly. It’s the same feeling I get when I go to a doctor’s office for the first time and when asked on the questionaire, “what do you like to be called?”, I always answer “Brad Pitt, or sometimes “George Clooney.” It’s my way of giving back.

We were then warned by a Sheriff’s deputy that the following items would not be allowed in the court building. Knives of any size, pocket tools, screwdrivers, whiskey sours, scissors, knitting needles, pine needles, mace, pepper spray, pepper steak, handcuff keys, nail files, wallet chains, fast food chains, forks, glass bottles and inflatable life rafts.

Then it was on to the courthouse, where we then sat outside the courtroom before being given the magic words to enter. As I strolled through the courtroom doors, I immediately spotted the long-haired defendant, looking very dapper in his jailhouse khakis. He was looking around and smiling like a jaybird, or maybe that’s jailbird. He was seemingly thrilled that all these people had come to pass judgement on him. Either that, or he was just a lunatic. I then wondered, what crime was this gleeful soul accused of and did I remember to put the parking pass on the windshield of my car.

A distinguished-looking, white-haired judge then welcomed us and starting off by thanking us for appearing to fulfill our civic duty. And then before you could say “Judge Judy, “jurisprudence” or “Dear Prudence,” his honor declared that “the parties had agreed that they no longer required the services of a jury so we’ll see you in two years.”

Well, the joy in the room was overwhelming. I hadn’t seen that many happy people gathered together since McDonalds introduced the McRib sandwich. I was back in my car and headed home before you could say “will the defendant please rise.” They say justice is blind. I say, every once in a while, the blind squirrel finds an acorn.

So now that the verdict is in, let’s move on to this week’s photo funhouse. I was going to feature a sunset that I shot back in October that had greatness written all over it. But then on Wednesday morning, this sunrise came along and moved to the front of the pack. Unlike in poker, a full house sunrise beats a royal flush sunset.

I had been up since 3:15 am that morning, working on my doctorate on the causes and effects of enormous tv viewing by middle-aged men. When I looked outside at 5:50 am the sky showed great potential, much like I exhibited back in my junior high basketball days. So I headed down to West Cliff and when I arrived at the coast, I was greeted by a beautiful orange and gray canvas of November clouds. As the creator and co-star of Sunrise Santa Cruz, these are the kinds of mornings that make me it all worthwhile. Well, that and being able to find my car keys.

Along with my trusty golden retriever, we proceeded to Its Beach. It felt good to be in the sand shooting away, as this was the first classic sunrise of the fall season. By 7 am, the sky was a whitish gray and you would never have known that there had been morning majesty in the air. And that is what Sunrise Santa Cruz is all about, capturing those moments and bringing them to this blog. Well, that and being a comedic forum for anything that flows through my stream of conciousness.

So let’s bring on the late night humor. “It’s interesting what former presidents do when they leave office. Bush is now working as a motivational speaker. And if you want to be motivated, who better to turn to than the guy who invaded the wrong country and started a depression.” -David Letterman “President Obama planted a tree on the north lawn of the White House this week, in a spot where Bush planted one that did not take. Apparently, nobody had the heart to tell Bush that his tree was actually a coat rack. ‘I’m going to go water my tree!’ ‘Whatever you say, Mr. President.'” –Jimmy Fallon “Some bad news for Sarah Palin. I don’t know if you heard this, according to a recent survey when asked, 7 out of 10 people said Sarah Palin is not qualified to be president. 7 out of 10. Yeah. Even worse, the question was, ‘Are you happy with your long-distance service?'” –Conan O’Brien

“Abdullah Abdullah just quit next week’s runoff election against Afghanistan’s President Hamid Karzi. Abdullah Abdullah said, he was just following in the footsteps of his role model, Palin Palin.” –Jimmy Fallon “Yeah, no runoff election in Afghanistan. Apparently a second election would be way too expensive to rig. So Abdullah Abdullah says he is pulling out because he wants to spend more time with his wife, Paula Abdullah. Abdullah Abdullah may be out of the race, but they say in four years his idiot son will be on the ballot. That would be Abdullah W. Abdullah.” –David Letterman

“Do you believe it’s been a year since Barack Obama was elected president? Amazing, huh? Well, actually, there’s been some changes. His new slogan is now, ‘Yes, we can, but don’t hold your breath. The White House has approved a new plan to pay — they’re going to pay members of the Taliban to change sides and support the U.S. And if it works there, they’re going to try it with Fox News.” –Jay Leno “President Obama has made a stunning announcement. President Obama has approved a new plan to pay members of the Taliban to switch sides and support the United States. Yeah, apparently he’s promised them 72 virgins and full dental coverage.” –Conan O’Brien

So that’s our pre-Veterans day report. Shot another gorgeous sunrise yesterday morning on the final day of the Coldwater Classic down at Steamer Lane. It was epic conditions as the swell was up and waves were pumping. And congratulations to go out to Derek Jeter and the New York Yankees for winning their 27th World Championship. It just goes to show that, in the words of the Beatles, “I don’t care too much for money, money can’t buy me love,” but it can sure can help purchase starting pitching and hitting. We’ll catch you in the end zone. Aloha, mahalo and later, Bronx Bomber fans.

Good morning and greetings, August fans. A few posts back, I wrote about the summer humidity on the east coast as compared to the summer frigidity that inhabits our central coast. This past week, on my early morning jaunts along West Cliff Drive, the ground and air were soaking wet. I hadn’t experienced that kind of moistness since I roasted a cornish game hen in honor of Anthony Randolph’s spectacular play in the Las Vegas summer league. I was thinking, here we are in the middle of fog season, while other parts of the nation are sweltering like Scotter Libby before the pardons board. Across the country, the weather has been wackier than Mark Sanford’s travel intinerary.

Meanwhile, 3,000 miles to the east, New York experienced it second coldest July on record. Fortunately, Mark Teixeira and New York Yankee bats were hot which counteracted the lack of summer sun for beachgoers and Met’s fans. Up and down the eastern seaboard it’s been cold and wet, as frustrated families ask themselves, “Where is summer?” I believe right next to thumbkin.

At the same time, last week in the Pacific Northwest, Seattle recorded the hottest temperature in its history at 103 while Portland topped out at 106, one shy of the all-time record. We are talking a major Martha and the Vandellas heat wave, my marine layer loving friends. Folks in these parts were flocking to the coast faster than Brandon Roy scorching up the floor on a Blazer fast break.

So as the moist air filled my delicate lungs, I was hit with my usual early morning revelations. I never ceased to be amazed by the 24/7 travelcade of birds as the flyways along the edge of the continent are always going full tilt. Prehistoric looking pelicans fly by in both directions, sometimes stopping to dive headfirst in search of some fish sticks, cormorants furiously flapping their wings in flight while their compatriots line the cliff walls. Throw in some screaming gulls, exotic pigeons and other various sea birds and I’ve painted your daily aerial display. It reminds me of the first time I visited Yankee Stadium. I was initially shocked by the foul language, drugs and alcohol, and those were just the security guards.

So once again, you may be thinking, what’s this bi-monthly obsession with byrds? The answer, my friends, is not blowing in the wind. There is a reason that I come out blasting with my Canon. And a time for every purpose under heaven. It’s my honest attempt to turn, turn, turn and try and churn out the best stream of conciousness this mind has to offer. And as we know, a mime is a terrible thing to waste.

Today’s photo lineup takes us back to the north coast, as we return to the sands of Four Mile Beach. When I’m looking for large quantities of gulls draped against the background of cumulating clouds, there’s no other place in this area I’d rather be. If you were to shoot these same shots without the birds in the sky, it’s an empty landscape. These gulls just wanting to have fun give the pictures life, liberty and in my case, the pursuit of semi-happiness. Here’s the bottom line. I love shooting birds and three-pointers. Just seeing them in motion and hearing the sound of the ball swishing thru the net, to paraphrase the Doobie Brothers, “it keeps me running.”

Let’s go to the late night. “Former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin resigned yesterday, and during her speech, she was heckled. Apparently, it was just someone in Russia yelling, ‘Keep it down over there!'” –Conan O’Brien “Sarah Palin’s decision to resign has resulted in an 18-point drop in her approval rating among Americans and a 52-point drop among terrified moose. She says she’s going to divide her time between traveling to support conservative causes and learning to pronounce the ‘G’ at the end of words” –Jimmy Kimmel “Some people now are saying, this is true, that former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin wants to host her own TV show. The show is going to be called ‘Am I More Coherent Than a Fifth Grader?'” –Conan O’Brien

“This August, President Obama is renting a vacation home on Martha’s Vineyard. It’s amazing. It has a basketball court, swimming pool, apple orchard and a driving range. The president says he can’t wait to shoot hoops, while Michelle looks forward to pulling apple trees out of the ground with her bare hands.” –Jimmy Fallon “President Obama held a Q & A session about healthcare reform with senior citizens over the Internet. Unfortunately, the senior citizens spent the entire hour typing questions into their microwave ovens. “President Obama is hosting a delegation of 150 Chinese officials in Washington. Among the questions the Chinese have for the U.S.: ‘What’s your military policy? What is your stance on global warming? And where’s our money?'” –Conan O’Brien

“Of course, President Obama has invited Harvard Professor Henry Louis Gates and the policeman who arrested him to the White House. Reportedly, Obama is going to serve them Budweiser. And in the spirit of racial harmony, Budweiser is changing its nickname from the ‘King of Beers’ to the ‘Martin Luther King of Beers.'” –Conan O’Brien “Now here’s the way President Obama likes to do stuff. They had this problem up there at Harvard. So President Obama says, ‘Here’s what we’ll do. Come to the White House. We’ll settle our differences. We’ll have a beer.’ And if it works for those guys he’s going to try it with Jon and Kate, and he is going it to try it with the Israelis and Hamas. “And then in the spirit of this, I thought it was nice today, Rush Limbaugh called up Professor Gates and Officer Crowley and he invited them over for some OxyContin.” –David Letterman

So that’s our first post for August 2009. I’ll be taking next week off, as the Gilbert family is heading to Sunset Beach on the fabled north shore of Oahu. In between body painting seminars and cooking with coconut classes, I’ll be studying the effects on the psyche of gentle trade winds, scented plumerias and most importantly, warm ocean water that doesn’t lead to shrinkage action. Of course, it will all be documented for those of you not making a trip to the South Pacific or the new Safeway on the westside this summer.

So enjoy the weeks before the back to school fever kicks in. And again, thanks to Aimee and Jason Gilbert for their guest blogs. Now if they would just stop asking me about royalties. We’ll catch you at Waimea Bay. Aloha, mahalo and later, Pipeline fans.

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.

Good morning and greetings, rock and roll fans. It’s been a wild week on the news front, with my favorite story coming out of Pyongyang, where fun-loving North Korea is talking about obliterating the good ol’ US of A. Standing smack in their crosshairs is Hawaii, which is being threatened with a nuclear tipped missle, topped off with a side order of short ribs. Think what you want about that little dictator, Kim Jong-il, but this pint-sized maniac, who gets a kick out of starving his people and locking up a couple of our journalists, is now threatening to devastate the Aloha state .

I am heading over to the islands in August for a warm water meditation retreat. Before the threat from this “proud nuclear power,” my biggest concerns were sunburn, overipe pineapples or a wandering school of jellyfish, not radiation poisoning. Over in Oahu, they still remember the horror of Pearl Harbor the same way I continually dream about not being ready tests in school. But I’ve always shared a special kinship with Korea, ever since my basketball coach had us playing a demilitarized zone on defense back in high shcool.

And then there was the tragic passing of the “King of Pop,” Michael Jackson, who died last week at the age of 50. I believe ABC’s Jimmy Kimmel summed it up best when he said, “What’s especially sad is that most people of a certain generation only know Michael Jackson as a crazy guy who had a lot of plastic surgery — whereas the truth is, he was not only an unbelievably talented, groundbreaking performer, he also helped break down the racial prejudice in this country. He was an extremely powerful symbol — a black performer who whites could relate to and then later in life, a white performer who blacks could relate to.” I loved the Jackson Five, especially Reggie, when he played rightfield for the Yankees.

Of course, there are the crazy goings on in Iran, the continuing and escalating violence in Iraq and Afghanistan, the wandering governor from South Carolina and the death of Farrah Fawcett. We’ll cover some of those topics in our late night comedy segment but let’s move on to our photo finish.

Today’s colorful theme takes us back to my favorite place to shoot the sunrise on the central coast. We’ll be seeing lots of Lighthouse Point and Its Beach throughout the summer as I blaze my own Appalachian trail through my photo archives. There has been very little color in the June skies due to fog, the marine layer and the breakup of Jon and Kate. So today we are journeying back to 2007, to a time when Phil Spector was still a free man, John Ensign was still faithful to his wife and Bernie Madoff sons still spoke to him.

The first three shots are from a sunrise in early March that came before a huge storm, where the rain was coming down harder than PETA did on President Obama for swatting that fly. This magnificent moment of Disney color came and went very quickly before the skies turned gray and the deluge began, much the way the greedy bankers bought into the bad mortgages and we, the taxpayers, were forced to bail them out. These bailouts still have many people, including yours truly, scratching their heads, much like suffering the heartbreak of psoriasis.

Our second dawn pleaser came a few weeks earlier. As a landscape photograher and part-time hand model, I am most attracted to the vibrant colors in the sky. These two sunrises reflect the kind of the moments I like to capture and the reason I get up before dawn even cracks. So you can look forward to a cyber summer of sunrises and sunsets as we bring the best of the central coast skies to the pages of Sunrise Santa Cruz.

On to the late night experience. Hey, you know what is going on over in Iran with the election? Have you been following that? Oh, it’s crazy. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (who makes a great chicken salad,) has declared himself a winner. Had a victory party. And he came out at the victory party and he thanked the 148% of the people who voted for him. This Ahmadinejad guy, during all those protests, keeping a very low profile in Iran. His staff said he was hiking. And President Obama, this guy takes everything seriously. He’s very upset about what’s going on in Iran. As a matter of fact, today he announced that he’s going to stop smoking Camels.” –David Letterman

“Today, President Obama signed a bill that prevents tobacco companies from using misleading labels like ‘low tar’ and ‘light.’ The tobacco companies said from now on they’ll label their low tar cigarettes as ‘less cancerific. A British furniture company was caught trying to slip advertisements into Twitter by linking them to the Iranian election crisis. Isn’t that the lowest? Yeah, probably the most shameless had to be, ‘Tired of all the unrest? Try our Serta Perfect Sleeper. Today the governor of South Carolina, Mark Sanford, who’s the head of the Republican Governors Association, held a press conference to reveal he had an affair with a woman from Argentina. People were shocked because Republicans traditionally don’t do well with Hispanic women.” –Conan O’Brien

“You guys remember Dick Cheney? Vice President for eight years? Listen to this. He’s written a memoir about his life. Not just a memoir, a thousand pages! It’s a great book. You can actually use it to stand on to reach a better book. This guy doesn’t say anything for eight years, and now he’s got a thousand-page book? Talk about torture. There’s your torture right there. John McCain is being more outspoken about President Obama’s foreign policy and his Iranian strategy. And today, McCain got so loud and so angry, and he was screaming, that they asked him to leave Denny’s.” –David Letterman

That’s news, weather and sports. On the travel front, my two favorite children are leaving today on a fact finding mission to Costa Rica, which is being led by my brother Brad, as part of his Media Services Without Borders group. Which means that another guest blog will be coming down the pike from Aimee. And if we’re really lucky we might squeeze one out of Jason, but it will probably be in Spanish.

So congratulations go out to the Golden State Warriors, who last week lucked out and selected sharpshooting guard Stephon Curry in the NBA draft. This was a coup for the Warriors, who in the past have taken front office incompetence to a new level. I haven’t been this excited about something in Oakland since they opened up Raiderette tryouts to the public. So enjoy the day and we’ll catch you somewhere between the Carribean Queen and the Atlantic. Aloha, mahalo and later, Costco Rica fans.

Good morning and greetings, Grand Funk Railroad fans. That’s right, folks, “I’m your captain” and thanks to my paint-by-the-numbers GPS system, “I’m getting closer to my home.” And dammit, “We’re an American Band. I saw Grand Funk guitarist Mark Farner play last summer at the Friday night concerts down at the Beach Boardwalk and he rocked Santa Cruz. I also saw Mr. Eddie Money, “Back in the 70’s when I was here, I was snorting South American countries” and the Gin Blossoms. We are talking tremendous rock and roll shows for the price of free.

For many years I passed on these mini-Woodstocks down at the beach and then one evening checked out Peter Noone and Herman Hermits and I was hooked just like Mrs. Brown and her lovely daughter. The sand, waves, barking sea lions, annoying tourists, alcohol, litter and cigarette smoke-it doesn’t get much better than that with rock and roll music blasting out over Monterey Bay. To quote the great Duke Ellington, (not to be confused with North Carolina Ellington,) “Music is my mistress.” And as Pablo Cruise once told me, “Love will find a way.”

For today’s photo fare we are going back, as the Chambers Brothers would say, in “Time.” As I’ve mentioned before, I joined the digital revolution in 2005, and much like when I broke down and ate Chinese food for the first time, a new sweet and sour world opened up for me. I had been shooting with a Canon AE1 for many years and was happy as a clam with the format. Focus, shoot a roll of 24, develop and see what I’ve got. A surprise in every envelope. Sometimes joy, sometimes disappointment, like seeing my SAT scores. But today we are going with some jump shots that worked for me, like an open 18-footer from the left side of the key.

For our first image, I went with one of my many cypress sunrise shots, this one entitled “Sky on Fire.” For years I shot the sunrise in front of the cypress tree along West Cliff before one day I finally dawned on me (no pun intended,) that this damn tree was blocking too much of the sky. I then joined moveon.org and started shooting down at Lighthouse Point.

Which leads me to photo #2, which in honor of Tommy Gavin and the “Rescue Me” boys, I call “Fire Engine Sky.” For a month in my late youth I shot with the slide format, and this red alert is a result of my slide period, which I also refer to as my first year of Algebra 1. I was using some film called Kodak Extra Color and as you can see from the rouge and the purple haze in the sky, they definitely didn’t cheat me on the color front. Not to toot my own Lena horn, but the Communist Party named this shot their 2004 photo of the year.

For our next two vertical entrees we move north (although some might say west) along West Cliff Drive. For some reason this morning I mistimed the sunrise. I woke and saw a beautiful red cumulus ribbon covering the sky. I then scooted down to the cliff and caught the aftermath (or was it afterscience) of the sun rising over the fog bank which I call “Glory Clouds.” Karma, clouds, parsley, sage, rosemary and time were on my side that morning.

We then move up to Swift Street to see a double rainbow doing stand-up in the Pacific. This was the beach that I lived across from during my West Cliff wonder years from 1975-1989. Living on the edge of the continent and photographing rainbows was not easy, with the daily distractions of migrating whales, countless chains of sea birds and endless droves of roller skaters. And definitely not in that order.

For our last two shots we are moving out of town but staying in state. The fifth shot is from New Year’s Day, 2004, back in Palm Desert, when the sky lit up with brilliantly colored, cotton-puffed clouds that just blew my mind. As I’m writing this I’m reminded of another fantastic, blood-red sunset from Palm Desert that I will feature later this summer. Due to technical difficulties, I did not make it out to the desert this year but from what I hear Sherman’s Deli (with two convenient locations in Palm Springs and Palm Desert) is still doing major rye bread, corn beef and chocolate rugala business without me.

The final shot was taken in lovely Hermosa Beach sometime in the 1990’s. There weren’t a lot of memorable moments of color in the sky during my decade in the southland but this was one of the nights of photo greatness. Living in the most densely populated city in the U.S., I found myself engulfed in the warm Pacific while the sun was setting from April thru October. Throw in third row season tickets to the Lakers at the Fabulous Forum during the Magic Johnson years, which was a magical and James Worthy experience in itself and sunsets took a back seat to the Laker Girls. Hermosa Beach was like living in a giant outdoor health club, but that’s a sideout story for another blog.

On to the late night news. “Well, the big story is the Supreme Court. President Obama has found his nominee. She is a Federal appeals judge. Sonia Sotomayor, a Latino woman, how about that? So, you know what that means. Ruth Bader Ginsburg no longer the hot chick on the court. If confirmed, Sotomayor would be the country’s first Hispanic judge. In fact, her first order of business, deporting Lou Dobbs.” –Jay Leno “History was made today when President Obama nominated Judge Sonia Sotomayor as the first female Hispanic justice to serve in the U.S. Supreme court. Obama said this should help keep the court from leaning too far to the white.” –Jimmy Fallon

“North Korea tested another nuclear bomb. The fear is that North Korea will sell this nuclear weapon to some unstable, volatile world leader, you know, like Dick Cheney.” –Jay Leno “There are some people who are saying that maybe Dick Cheney is setting himself up to actually run for president. You know, it makes sense. Republicans are looking for fresh blood, and Cheney just had some yesterday.” –Bill Maher

“Barack Obama and Dick Cheney have been going at each other all week. This is like big-time wrestling, isn’t it? Man, it’s like charisma versus arrhythmia. I can’t believe Dick Cheney keeps giving speeches. He’s appearing on TV news shows. It’s like he thinks he is still president. A new pentagon report says that 1 in 7 inmates released from Guantanamo Bay has gone back to terrorism. Surprisingly, the other 6 are working in customer service.” –Jay Leno

So I hope you enjoyed today’s blast of colors from the past. And congratulations to the Lakers and the Magic, who will meet in the NBA Finals that begin on Thursday. What this means is no LeBron James, who put on an INCREDIBLE show during the playoffs but who failed to show up for the Game 6 postgame press conference. It guess it all comes down to the words of Mahatma Gandhi who once said, “Defeat is worse than death, you have to live with defeat.”

As you can imagine, there are few more Fuji like images in the archives that we will later revisit. On Friday morning, I took a few shots of a coyote in the misting rain which we’ll see coming down the pike. So enjoy the Kodak colors and we’ll catch at the Staples Center. And welcome to June. Aloha, mahalo and later, George McGinnis fans.

Good morning and greetings, Michelle Obama fans. I don’t want to say that I’m excited about our First Lady, but I have been going sleeveless for weeks. And the fact that her husband is the smartest guy around and is in charge of restoring this nation’s sanity thrills me on a daily basis. His presence provides real hope for our country’s future as we can show the world our strength and compassion. Throw in the fact that hosted a seder at the White House, is having a basketball court installed at Camp David and genuinely cares about helping the less fortunate almost makes me forget he’s a lefty. But then again, so was Jimi Hendrix. And the wind cries Obama.

Now you’ve heard me comment over the last few months that this has not been the year for color in the sky. Which is not to be confused with Lucy in the sky with diamonds. Except for a few moments back in early February, I haven’t shot a single sunrise in 2009. Well, that hitless streak came to an end this past Tuesday when I woke up, checked the horizon and saw clouds that could actually showed more promise than most of the new shows I watched this season. All I can say is, thank FX that Tommy Gavin and the firehouse boys are back on “Rescue Me.” And this follows of tremendous FX season of evilness on “Damages.” To quote the Backstreet Boys, “I just want to be Glen Close to you.”

So I was electrified as a Joe Biden hair plug as I put my kosher eggs benedict on hold and headed for Steamers Lane. The sky was just starting to light up and reflecting on the bay (photo #1) as I hit the cliff. It was a spectacular sunrise that, much like our new Commander-in-Chief, seemingly came out of nowhere. Something similar happened last March when there was a sunset that was just off the charts with nothing before or after. It’s as if the weather has a mind of its own. Or could it be the words of the group Spirit, “It’s nature’s way of telling you something’s wrong?” Or was that Al Gore?

At the exact moment the sun disappeared up into the clouds (shortly after photo #6) the bells chimed (or did they toll?) from the church along West Cliff. What was even more amazing about this magnificent morning was that it was the 15th birthday of my son, Jason and the 50th of my brother, Brad. It was a wonderfully, energizing way to start the day, for soon after the skies clouded up and only early risers knew the beauty that began this April day. Or in the words of the Young Rascals, “It’s a beautiful morning. I think I’ll just go outside for a while.. and smile.”

You can also see from photo #5 that the swell was up and that the waves were pumping like questions being thrown at Timmy Geithner at a Republican Finance Subcomittee hearing. All in all, a special morning for spring break 2009. But now it is history, or as Ronnie Van Zant of Lynyrd Skynyrd would say, “Tuesday’s gone with the wind.”

On to some good humor. “This week, President Obama attended what was either the G-20 summit or his high school reunion. I haven’t seen old white dudes this excited about meeting a black guy since Michael Jordan’s fantasy camp.” –Seth Meyers ” He was the 11th U.S. President Queen Elizabeth has met with, and the first one where she spent the entire meeting clutching her purse.” –Bill Maher “A lot of Americans don’t understand the role of the queen. The queen is merely a figurehead. She wields no real political power. Or, as we call it in this country, the vice president.” –Jay Leno

“At the G-20 summit, the White House accidentally listed a phone sex line for journalists seeking an on-record briefing call for Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. To which Bill said, ‘Boy, did they get the wrong number.'” –Jay Leno “The Taliban has decided to modernize a little bit. They’re going to stop measuring the lengths of mens’ beards. I’m proud of those guys. I couldn’t be happier. Oh wait, I know how I could be happier: if they stopped trying to murder us.” And the Taliban will no longer require women to wear those burkas while in public. Spring Break! Let’s see those ankles!” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s the Sunrise Santa Cruz report. To paraphrase the words of the great Terence Aloysius ‘Slip’ Mahoney (Leo Gorcey) from the Bowery Boys, “Sometimes matzo cast upon the waters comes back as burnt toast.” So enjoy the April skies, the last waning, breadless days of Passover and most importantly, the final week of the pro hoops regular season. We’ll catch you at midcourt. Oh, and here’s a shout out to the writers of “Friday Night Lights.” That show runs straight to my heart. Bring on the NBA playoffs. Aloha, mahalo and later, Jerry West fans.

Good morning, rock and roll fans. Today we are going to take a fast break from the Doobies, the Steely Dans and you Led Zepplin fans and instead focus on March Madness. No, I’m not talking about trying to get your tax information in order, or figuring out how you’re going to pay all your bills and still afford a summer vacation or wondering how Alan Greenspan is sleeping these days. I’m talking college hoops, and for the easy lovers of this sport, the next three weeks are SuperBowl Sundays. We are heading to the collegiate mountaintop. Simply put, we are climbing the NCAA Stairway to Heaven.

Now yesterday was Selection Sunday as 64 teams were chosen (while a few deserving teams got screwed) for the honor of playing for the national championship on April 6. What lies ahead are fantastic finishes, the joy of victory, the agony of defeat and most importantly, for basketball purists like myself, enough cheerleaders to drive off a battalion of Taliban.

So as a prelim to the Big Dance, Syracuse and the University of Connecticut went at it Thursday night at Madison Square Garden in the quarterfinals of the Big East tournament. Having attended Syracuse for two years (before I was pardoned so I could live in a place were it didn’t go directly from winter to summer,) I still have a fondness for the Orangemen. Well, this was a game for the ages and the ageless, as this epic contest went SIX overtime sessions before Syracuse prevailed. I don’t want to say this game ran long but I’ve seen “Law & Order” marathons that took less time.

Now I realize that many of you don’t give a rat’s behind about sports so let’s move on to the photo highlights. For today’s photo synthesis we journey back to the morning of March 5. Coming off my typical night’s sleep which included dreams of not being able to find my car, not having studied for a test and in the words of Blind Faith, not being able to find my way home, I woke up to the sound of rain. I took a quick look out the window, saw the gray skies and went back to finishing my Jackson Five crossword puzzle.

Minutes later, I glanced outside and saw orange light painting the windows across the street. I quickly threw off my Jonas Brothers pajamas and headed down to West Cliff. On my ride down, the sky was turning a beautiful color, or in the words of George Costanza, “a pinkish hue.” By the time I got to the edge the color was in fade mode and the sun was rising, so I snapped the first two shots in today’s series. Despite missing the predawn pagentry, the morning was, in the words of Kool and the Gang, “Fresh, exciting. She’s so inviting to me.”

I then spent the rest of the day as I normally would, trying to solve the country’s economic problems, working out a mideast peace proposal and wondering what pasta goes best with eggplant parmigiana. And then around sunset time, I headed back down to the cliff to check out the western conference sky. There wasn’t the abundance of clouds I was looking for but what was there looked semi-inviting, so I put on my zoom lens and went to work. The results are photos 4 thru 6. This pick six combination is what you Jeopardy fans (and I know you’re out there) refer to as the Daily Double-sunrise and sunset from the same day. And now let’s meet our returning champion.

Not too much going on in the political humor front as Mr. Political Irony.com has gone on vacation and I haven’t been checking out any monologue action. But here’s one that made the cut. “Here’s a cute story. You know the Obama kids? They got a swing set there on the White House lawn. And here’s the nice thing. This is what you like about Obama. He is a very conscientious guy. Thinks of everything, because the swing set didn’t cost the taxpayers anything. They built the swing set out of old pieces of Dick Cheney’s guard tower.” -David Letterman

So in keeping with our humorous theme, here are a couple of jokes from one of the greats, Milton Berle. A husband and wife were visiting a zoo where the animals were in compounds rather than cages. Unfortunately, the wife leaned over too far at one of the compounds and was grabbed by a giant male gorilla. As the gorilla was carrying her off, the wife cried, “What should I do? What should I do?” The husband said, “Do what you do at home. Tell him you have a headache.”

As part of a fact-finding tour for the jungle animals,a female zebra went to the United States. Seeing a cow, she asked, “What do you do?” The cow said, ‘I give milk.” Then the zebra saw a sheep and asked, “What do you do?” The sheep said, “I grow wool. They take it and make clothes.” A moment later, a stallion ran up. The zebra said, “What do you do?” The stallion said, “Take off that silly housecoat and you’ll find out.”

That’s right, when it comes to Uncle Miltie and jokes, we always take the high road. So that’s our show. In the meantime, think about what you can do to make this planet a better place, enjoy the March skies and get ready for lots of college basketball. As far as my NCAA pick, I’m going to defer to my ex-college basketball correspondent from my SportsTalk radio days, Dr. Michael Schur. Michael, who is the Jay Bilas of Pediatric Anesthesiology, used to call Chapel Hill his home but now hails from lovely Satellite Beach, Florida. I believe it was he who first coined the phrase, “If God isn’t a Tar Heel fan, then why is the sky Carolina blue?”

Anyway, after speaking with Michael over my ham radio on Saturday night, he is picking John Calipari’s Memphis Tigers to take the title. “They’re long, they’re hungry, play suffocating ‘D,’ and most importantly, Hubie Brown used to coach in Memphis.” Now you can see the importance of four years of medical school. And here’s a little secret-Michael has told me that if he and his wife Jody have another child they’re going to name him Tarik Evans. He’d be a diaper dandy.

One final thought on the tournament. Coaches say winning is a habit. I prefer the words of the Doobie Brothers, as in “What were once habits are now vices.” And congratulations go out to my favorite point-guard playing son, Jason, who as a freshman was selected for Honorable Mention honors this season in the Mission Trail Athletic League. It just goes to show what hard work, dedication and New Jersey genes can do for a child. Aloha, mahalo and later, Jonny Flynn fans.