Good morning and greetings, Steamer Lane fans. Last Friday, the Santa Cruz Surfing Club Preservation Society along with the Parks and Recreation Department and a dozen sea gulls invited the community to rendezvous over at Lighthouse Point to celebrate the 25th anniversary of the first museum on the west coast solely dedicated to surfing and kelp beds.

Now I am very familiar with this location, as Lighthouse Point is my prime-time, number one, numero uno shooting spot when it comes to photographing world-class sunrises over Monterey Bay. I love using the lighthouse as a photographic point of reference, as it falls somewhere between the spectacular setting of Half Dome in Yosemite and the inner city quaintness of the old Yankee Stadium.

But today we are not referring to the outside of the lighthouse, but instead what lies within, which could be compared to my gruff exterior which belies a heart of gold. I wanted to know the inside word on how this sacred spot was deemed surf museum worthy.

I knew there was only one man who could answer these questions, and with any luck he wouldn’t block my call when I dialed him up. He is Howard “Boots” McGhee, who is a consider to be a friend, mentor and someone who I wouldn’t contact unless I had severe writer’s block.

Boots, who hails from the Seacliff side of the tracks, is a long-time surfer, much accomplished photographer and a mover and a shaker in this area, or at least that’s what he told me to write. He is also one of the gentlemen who is responsible for this Surfing Museum’s existence, so I went right to the source to find out how this history was made along West Cliff Drive.

Boots told me that back in 1985, before he and I started doing in the tow-in thing with Laird Hamilton, he was part of a small group that decided to turn this brick structure into the first surfing museum on the mainland. What a concept, a museum inside a lighthouse. It was like serving up a creamy bowl of Santa Cruz surfing history inside a sourdough bread bowl.

In the words of this man who’s a former body double for Bruce Willis, “it’s an interpretive museum. It’s a place where you learn things on the inside and then you step outside and you’re on top of the arena where it’s happening.”

How true, as once you exit this visual encyclopedia of Santa Cruz surfing lore, you’ve got Steamer Lane on one side and Its Beach on the other. This is not what surrounds the Museum of Natural History in New York, as when you exit onto 79th Street at Central Park West, very few dinosaurs are roaming the streets, unless you are lucky enough to catch a glimpse of Larry King.

Here’s one more thought. You might want to go check out the Surfing Museum sooner than later. Because of the sea caves and the erosion going on underneath this structure, this building will not be here forever. Boots gives the museum another ten years before it will have to be rebuilt across the street. Then again, years ago, he got smacked in the head with a longboard, and since then every time I see him he asks if I want to join him for lunch with Duke Kahanamoku.

So today I am featuring six shots of the lighthouse under different lighting conditions. I had dozens of shots to choose from, but these six give you a pretty good idea of what goes on in the sky at this incredible spot at the headlands of Monterey Bay. Santa Cruz, where the sky meets the sea.

Before we head into the late night, I wanted to make mention of the violent tornado that devastated the lives of the good folks of Joplin, Missouri. Turns out this last killer twister was something unique and not so special. Video evidence shows that it appears to be a rare “multivortex” tornado, which contain two or more small and intense subvortices that orbit the center of the larger tornado. That is why this twister was the deadliest tornado since the 1940’s and left the city of Joplin looking like it had been hit by a bomb.

To the late night we go. “The pastor who incorrectly predicted the Rapture said it was a very tough weekend. To make it worse, his friends keep calling him saying, “Hey, it’s not the end of the world!” –Conan O’Brien “The man that is predicting judgment day predicted the end of the world in 1994. He also predicted that Ashton Kutcher would never return to television.” –Craig Ferguson

“The preacher who predicted the apocalypse last weekend now predicts that the world will end in October. It’s the first time that someone’s end-of-the-world prediction was followed by ‘Have a great summer.'” –Conan O’Brien “Harold Camping, who predicted the end of the world, says the new date for the apocalypse is October 21. If it rains, it will be October 22.” –David Letterman “The Rapture-predicting preacher, Harold Camping, is really scaling back his predictions. He now predicts the end of the month will be May 31.” –Jay Leno

“President Obama visited the Irish village where his great-great-great-grandfather was born. Of course, that was always disputed by his great-great-great-grandfather’s archrival, Donny McTrump.” –Jimmy Fallon “That’s right, Obama was in Ireland. He thought about buying a four-leaf clover for good luck, and then he looked at the field of Republican candidates and decided it wasn’t necessary.” –Jimmy Fallon “Indiana Gov. Mitch Daniels emailed his supporters over the weekend to tell them he’s not running for president. In response, his supporters were like, ‘Dad, we live in the same house. Couldn’t you just tell us in person?” –Jimmy Fallon

“New video has surfaced of Arnold Schwarzenegger in 1991 saying the housekeeper does a ‘great job.’ One clue might have been that he then added, ‘And she’s also a great housekeeper.'” –Conan O’Brien “There are rumors Arnold Schwarzenegger may have had a second child with another woman. I can’t believe Arnold would cheat on his mistress like that. “Turns out that Maria Shriver could end up with 100,000,000 dollars from her divorce from Arnold. She deserves it. She was a devoted wife and mother to at least 40 percent of his children.” –Jimmy Fallon

“A new Facebook app is coming out that will remind users exactly what they were doing a year ago from that day. Nine times out of 10, the answer will be ‘wasting your time on Facebook.'” –Conan O’Brien “Herman Cain, the former CEO of Godfather’s Pizza, announced that he’s running for president. And this is cool — if his campaign isn’t over in 30 minutes or less, you get your pizza for free. “Subway sandwich shops are testing out several upscale restaurants called Subway Cafes. They feature wood paneling, lounge seating, and other things to distract you from the tuna fish being served with an ice-cream scoop.”–Jimmy Fallon

So that’s my Memorial Day weekend rant. I apologize for the fact that there were no NBA playoff games over the weekend, but that’s what happens when young teams Chicago and Oklahoma City implode down the stretch and ruin it for everyone. So enjoy the NBA Finals and we’ll catch you in June. Aloha, mahalo and later, LeBron James fans.

Good morning and greetings, no fly zone fans. Is it just me, or is our air assault and maybe we’ll supply these fun lovin’ rebels with arms approach constitute the nuttiest war yet? When I turn on Brian Williams with NBC News and they flash to Richard Engel in Libya with the rebel army, I’m not sure if I’m watching live coverage or a remake of Woody Allen’s “Bananas.”

Growing up, this film, along with the “Play It Again, Sam and Annie Hall” were my favorite Allen flicks. I love the Wood Man. Woody, as Fielding Mellish, plays a consumer products tester, who’s dumped by his political activist girlfriend because she was looking for someone with more leadership potential. He then heads down to San Marcos, where he joins the rebels and becomes President. You may remember the classic line when the rebels are discussing how to deal with snakebites,” you have to suck out the poison.” Or “he comes to the palace and he doesn’t bring an assortment?”

Anyway, when I see the incredibly brave Mr. Engel risking his life to report this story from behind enemy lines, and the rebel he is interviewing is carrying a PLASTIC gun into battle against Kadaffy’s troops, I am beyond amazed and distressed. These ragtag rebels have no commanders, fire rockets in the wrong direction and are constantly leaving runners in scoring position. I have sympathy for the Libyan people but this is not our battle. I’m more concerned about the simple things, like why there’s no funding so that our libraries can be open on Fridays. So I say, think globally, act locally, drink responsibly and remember, the tie always goes to the gun runner.

As I declared in these pages just last week, I put the sunrise season in the books. So it was much to my surprise, chagrin, consternation, amusement, suicidal tendencies and par for the course that last Tuesday, a shockingly beautiful sunrise appeared in the morning sky. After uncurling out of the fetal position, I hit the streets to check out the action, and it had, much like my IQ, peaked. Fortunately, I felt a whole lot better when my neighbor walked by with his dog and said, “oh, you should have seen it a half an hour ago, it was unbelievable.” Check, please.

Now, in my defense, which is always man-to-man, I was suffering from a really bad cold that morning and was looking forward to some periodontal surgery at 9 am. So I wasn’t really bringing my ‘A’ game to the plate. Still, that is not an excuse, and my psyche is still slightly black and blue from kicking myself for missing this morning magnificence that lit up the skies above Cowells Beach.

So I thought to myself, what could I do to make up for this faux pas for my audience who has supported me unconditionally and non-monetarily for close to six years? There was only once place to go (no, not Hawaii) and that was to the archives, where mucho sunrises, sunsets and cloud conferences lay dormant, waiting for their chance of renewed recognition for past greatness they have performed on the Monterey Bay stage, which is just slightly off Broadway by the way Sheryl Crow flies.

So let’s journey back to a morning of soft breezes in early April of 2006, before Kadaffy had gotten his latest tummy tuck. The tide was extremely low, which set up the possibility for tremendous reflection action as I headed down to Cowells Beach to scope out the morning festivities.

It turned out to be even better than I thought, as good April sunrises happen about as often as the Warriors appear in the playoffs. It does not compare color or texture-wise to what I semi-witnessed last Tuesday, but if you’re a fan of the movie “Endless Summer,” then photo number five is about as close as the Ansel or Don Adams in me is ever going to get.

Moving along, It’s a big week on the birthday front. Let’s start with an outside hitter, as my son Jason turns 17 on Thursday. It’s been quite a year for my first born, as in between taking four AP classes, my junior point guard son was named MVP of his basketball league as he led his team to an undefeated championship. He’s also co-captain of his volleyball team, and watching him hang, float and kill is a thing of absolute beauty, like my daughter’s face when I ask her if she wants cheese in her scrambled eggs in the morning.

But here’s the best part. My jump float serving son has told me that this summer he will be working on a jump program so that next year he’ll be dunking during the basketball season. That, along with the upcoming NBA playoffs and new episodes of “The Chicago Code ” have given me reasons to live and continue to floss. So that’s why I have included today’s special bonus photo #7. I call it “A Dog and his Boy.”

Joining him in Thursday festivities is my youngest brother Brad, who will be celebrating his special day by heli-snowboarding in Alaska. I really wanted to go with him, because nothing excites me more than being dropped off on the top of a glacier and be expected to make it down to the bottom in one easy piece. It’s not that I’m afraid of falling, it’s just that not myself when I’m in a coma. I give my brother credit, as I don’t want to say I’m a boneless chicken, but if you put some tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese on top of me, I’m parmesan done.

And finally on Friday, the guy who made this blog possible, my webmaster, psychic advisor and karate instructor, Kevin Deutsch, celebrates his last birthday before he becomes a high school math teacher. Kevin and I are like two peas in a pod as we both live for solving calculus equations, swimming in golden pools of pad se ew and Lady Gaga acoustic concerts.

On to lots of late night fun. “President Obama escalated the war in Afghanistan, he sent the Navy in to shoot at pirates in the Indian Ocean, and now he’s attacking Libya. It’s like he took the Nobel Peace Prize as an insult.” –Jimmy Kimmel “President Obama said the United States has clear and focused goals in Libya. He said he would share those goals with us as soon as Hillary shares them with him.” –Jimmy Fallon “Congress is mad at President Obama because he didn’t consult them before the war in Libya. Congress got us into two other wars and put us 14 trillion dollars in debt. I can’t imagine why he didn’t consult them.” –Jay Leno

“Donald Trump might be running for president and he just released his birth certificate. It lists his eyes as “blue” and his hair as “ridiculous.” Conan O’Brien “Donald Trump showed his birth certificate to reporters. Who cares about his birth certificate? I want to know if that thing on his head has had its vaccinations.–Craig Ferguson “President Obama had to use another door to get into the White House yesterday after he got home and the entrance to the Oval Office was locked. When he couldn’t get in, Obama said ‘Holy cow, is it 2012 already?'” –Jimmy Fallon

“The latest episode of “Dancing With the Stars” was preceded by Obama’s new show, “Dancing Around the Objectives in Libya.” Critics were saying Obama seemed defensive and slightly angry during his speech on Libya. Sounds like somebody’s March Madness bracket isn’t doing so hot.”–Jimmy Fallon “We’re down to the final four now. Only four Middle East countries we haven’t attacked. Obama is being criticized by both parties for not having a clear strategy to get out of Libya. But neither does Moammar Gadhafi, so it’s OK.”–Jay Leno

“Sarah Palin continues to make significant contributions to the English language. She asked, ‘Is Libya a war, an intervention, a squirmish, what is it?’ Squirmish is how I feel every time I hear Sarah Palin talk.” –Jimmy Kimmel “Sarah Palin said we’re in a “squirmish” with Libya. After she was corrected, she said “I shouldn’t be expected to get everything Acura. President Obama says that he prays every night before bed. Or as Fox News reported, ‘Obama in Daily Talks With Allah.'” –Conan O’Brien

David Letterman’s “Top Five Ways Moammar Gadhafi Can Improve His Image” 10. Less murdering 8. Release hit novelty song ‘Moammar Said There’d Be Days Like This’ 5. Promote himself from colonel to general 3. Just for fun, throw in some more Qs 2. Go on tour with Hosni Mubarak as the ‘Original Dictators of Comedy’

“President Obama didn’t throw any first pitches for opening day. Of course, he did throw us that curveball on Libya. President Obama’s approval ratings are so low now, Kenyans are accusing him of being born in the United States. If Moammar Gadhafi goes into exile, there are only three places that would tolerate a raving madman like that: Venezuela, Saudi Arabia, and Fox News.”–Jay Leno “Moammar Gadhafi has been described as a maniacal despot clinging to power. Wait a minute, that’s me.”–David Letterman

“A man and a woman who met on a British dating site eventually figured out that they were brother and sister. And since they live close by, they can actually carpool to therapy.”–Jimmy Fallon “Whole Foods, the organic grocery chain, is putting bars in some stores that will serve beer and wine. Their goal is to get you so drunk that you don’t notice the prices.–Jay Leno

“On Fox News, Donald Trump said Obama’s birth certificate could indicate that he’s a Muslim. Trump said he doesn’t trust anyone with a foreign-sounding name, and neither does his daughter Ivanka. Al-Qaida has a magazine, and the spring issue features a profile of Moammar Gadhafi. It also features a women’s section called “Death to Cottage Cheese Thighs.”–Conan O’Brien

So enjoy tonight’s NCAA championship game and we’ll catch you at midcourt for the trophy presentation. Aloha, mahalo and later, Jason Gilbert fans.

Good morning and greetings, Louisiana Purchase fans. Yes, despite the incessant rains, Katrina flashbacks and the shocking upset of Drew Brees and the Saints in the first round of this year’s NFL playoffs, Mardi Gras was in full swing last week in New Orleans. So to get into the true spirit of this event, I draped myself in beads and paraded around the house wearing a mask while my kids constructed a root beer float from which I could toss tiskets, taskets and a bunch of purple, green and gold baskets.

So what is this cajun-style holiday all about? Well, the words “Mardi Gras” are in the French language, right before “we surrender.” Broken down, “Mardi is the French word for Tuesday, and “Gras” means fat. So when French is translated to English, the last word spoken is the first word translated. So if this makes sense, mess amis, then we’re talking “Fat Tuesday,” which is not to be confused with “Skinny Wednesday,” “Obese Thursday,” “Rail-Thin Friday,” “Chubby Saturday” or “Ice Cream Sunday.”

The celebration of Mardi Gras goes back to an old ancient Roman custom of wild partying before a period of fast, like we do every year around my house on the day before Yom Kippur. It is believed to have come to America in 1699, right around the birth of John McCain, with French explorer Sieur d’Iberville. They started celebrating in New Orleans in 1827, when a group of philosophy students put on strange costumes and danced in the streets like wild monkeys. According to the Food Channel, the residents of New Orleans were captured by their liveliness and offered to sponsor them in a semester overseas studying computer graphics and dessert toppings.

Mardi Gras was originally known as Boeuf Gras, which means “Beef Fat”, which is not to be confused with my favorite criminal mastermind on the new “Hawaii Five-0,” Wo Fat. Boeuf Gras was the last feast of meat before Lent, the holiday where people traditionally go around asking to borrow money. The celebration originated in Europe and one of the customs was parading a fat ox through the streets. And if they couldn’t find one, they used Rush Limbaugh.

Mardi Gras is celebrated with a series of soft parades, in which floats are exotically decorated and are ridden by people wearing Chanel #5 and outrageous costumes. The costumed crew then throws beads and necklaces to the crowd which they collect as souvenirs, and in a new tradition, sometimes the women’s tops come off. This is called beads gone wild.

Mardi Gras is also known as “Shrove Tuesday, Pancake Tuesday, Waffle Wednesday and French Toast Thursday.” These names came about because Mardi Gras is the last day to celebrate before the Lent period starts, and therefore one should eat up all the fattening food items which are generally prohibited during the lent period fasting, like lobster eggs benedict, double fudge chocolate cake and chicken dinosaurs.

Mardi Gras and the day before college basketball’s March Madness begins are considered to be the important days for confessions of the sins and to get your bracket picks in as the following day starts with mourning and Lent until Easter Sunday and the Final Four weekend arrives. So although Fat Tuesday is gone with the wind, I’ve still got that jambalaya spirit. Anyone have change for a French Quarter?

So believe it or not, sports fans, the 2010-11 sunrise and sunset season, much like my dreams of getting the readership of this blog into nine digits, is pretty much over. It was chow fun while it lasted, as prime time was from late October through early February. So for today’s photo train, we are journeying back to the early morning of January 13, the last semi-spectacular sunrise to grace the skies above Monterey Bay. Much like my first shampoo with coconut cream rinse, it was a day and a cleansing my subconcious won’t soon forget.

As you can see, the eastern skylights started out on a good note, and then like my wedding night, just got better and better. The fifth shot was taken on the path along West Cliff Drive. While I was snapping away, a gentlemen came along and said, “the shot you want is from across the street.” I thanked him for the photo tip and that made a mental note to remind my kids never to talk to strangers, unless they were holding a seance or a camera.

Now, in my full-court defense, I have only been shooting from this spot around Lighthouse Point since the beginning of time, so this angle would have come to me somewhere before Medicaid. Anyway, my thanks to that gentlemen, who inspired the final and my favorite shot of this six pack, which I am pretty pleased to share with the thousands, er, hundreds of dedicated Sunrise Santa Cruz cyber constituents.

On to the late night. “Mexican President Calderon told President Obama that the United States must do more to reduce the demand for drugs. Obama said, “We got Charlie Sheen off cocaine. What more do you want us to do?”–Jay Leno “Charlie Sheen is planning a humanitarian trip to Haiti. He says he wants to show them what a real disaster looks like. Arnold Schwarzenegger has been offered a role in a sequel to “Terminator.” In this one, he travels back in time and kills the person that suggested he run for governor.”–Conan O’Brien

“In a new interview, Newt Ginrich says he cheated on two of his wives because he was too consumed with love for his country. Yeah, apparently he misunderstood the phrase, ‘Please rise for the pledge of allegiance.'” –Conan O’Brien “Former Speaker of the House Newt Gingrich is a man who cheated on his first wife and left her while she was in bed with cancer. Then he cheated on his second wife with his current, third wife. I don’t think actual newts are this slimy.” –Bill Maher “Republican Presidential hopeful Mike Hucka-BS is attacking actress Natalie Portman for getting pregnant without being married. It could get a little awkward if he runs into Sarah and Bristol Palin at Fox News.” –Jay Leno

“Julianne Moore is going to play Sarah Palin in a new HBO movie. Julianne said, ‘But I know nothing about politics,’ and the producers said, ‘Perfect!'” –Craig Ferguson “A flight attendant was fired from Virgin Airlines for placing a baby in an overhead compartment. To be fair, the baby did not fit under the seat.” –Conan O’Brien “Airlines are considering charging for reclining seats. Also, your scrotum now counts as a carry-on bag.” –Stephen Colbert

“Women who drink are less likely to be obese than women who do not drink. All this time, you’ve been on Jenny Craig while you should have been on Johnny Walker.” –Jay Leno “Donald Trump denies that he’s pretending to run for president to gain publicity for his TV show. He says that anyone that says is this is clearly an “apprentice,” and they deserve to be fired on Thursday at 9:00. According to Forbes, the richest man in the world is from Mexico. It turns out he’s Oprah’s gardener.” –Conan O’Brien

So that’s our mid-March report from the Big Easy. We had a little tsunami action last Friday at the harbor here in Santa Cruz, as 17 boats were sunk, 50 were damaged and two men were left on base, but nothing compared to the fifth most powerful earthquake that devastated the residents of Japan. The footage of the tsumani that followed the quake was just incredible and made me appreciate that I had asked Stevie Wonder to take me to a higher ground.

So get ready for the wild and crazy first round of March Madness in the NCAA’s college basketball tournament and we’ll catch you in the field of 64. Aloha, mahalo and later, LaMarcus Aldridge fans.

Good morning and greetings, football fans. Well, yesterday was the national holiday we call Super Sunday, which led into what I like to refer to as Malcontent Monday. For all you gamblers, midnight ramblers and pigskin lovers, the 2011 season, much like my dream of opening a kosher vegan deli is now history.

So what do we really know about this day of endless commercials and catastrophic caloric consumption? Scientists and 7 Eleven clerks have determined that it is the second largest food consumption day of the year behind Thanksgiving, but with a whole lot less cranberry sauce. The big ticket item on this day is our friend the avocado. According to my confidential sources inside the California Avocado Commission, somewhere between eight million and 150 billion pounds of avocado were consumed yesterday, and that was just during the pregame show.

The CAC, not to be confused with ABC, which is as easy as 1, 2, 3, says most avocados, which is actually a fruit, not a vegetable, were consumed through the process of guacamole. That meant Americans ate the amount of chips, were they lined them up in a row, would circle the earth 16,000 times without stopping once for gas or more dip.

We’re talking Lay’s Classics, Ruffles with Ridges, Cheesy Nacho Doritos, Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips, Maui Onion Kettle Chips and my personal favorites CHiPS, Erik Estrada and Larry Wilcox, who was just sentenced to three years probation for conspiracy to commit securities fraud. As they say in Las Vegas, let the chips, including tortilla, fall where they may or as I like to say, what ever happens never happened.

But this was not just a day of gorging on incredible amounts of the unhealthiest foods on the planet. Forget about the 300 million pounds of snacks like pretzels, popcorn, acorns, nuts, mental patients, pizza, cake, steak, Tums, ice cream and Benedryl. According to Hallmark Cards, the Super Bowl represents the number one at home party event of the year, surpassing my Bar Mitzvah party, my 50th birthday bash, and the viewing of the pilot episode of “Southland.”

Of course, there may have been some alcohol consumed along with a little wagering done yesterday. I myself, being a devout Quaker with Amish leanings, do not partake in the spirits or believe in gambling. Instead, I keep my money in a safe, conservative place called the stock market. So in honor of the 30 trillion dollars that were bet yesterday on Super Sunday, here’s a gambling joke that makes me chuckle.

One day, at a casino buffet, a man suddenly called out, “My son’s choking! He swallowed a quarter! Help! Please, anyone! Help!” A man from a nearby table stood up and announced that he was quite experienced at this sort of thing. He stepped over with almost no look of concern at all, wrapped his hands around the boy’s gonads, and squeezed. Out popped the quarter. The man then went back to his table as though nothing had happened. “Thank you! Thank you!” the father cried. “Are you a paramedic?” “No,” replied the man. “I work for the IRS.”

Let’s move on to our photo parade. The skies have been sunny and clear as I haven’t shot a sunrise or a glance in weeks. So today we are going back to the morning of December 29th down at Lighthouse Point. This was a quiet and gentler time, before Egyptians started rioting in the streets because they wanted more jobs, cheaper food, political change and MTV.

It was a wonderful way to start the day, as the clouds made me feel like I was floating on a bed of frosted Pop Tarts. The colors in the early morning sky were outstanding, and to be able to share it with my cyber audience is why I got into this non-paying business. Well, that and to meet celebrities and reconnect with my old Guardian Angel buddies.

On to the late night. “Things are not looking good for Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak. Today he canceled his Super Bowl party. That’s a bad sign. Protestors in Egypt are telling their government to “accept the realities of the modern age we live in.” Then they were attacked by guys on camels with whips.”–Jay Leno “The bookies have put the odds out for this weekend. The Packers are slightly favored over the Steelers and the rioters are slightly favored over President Mubarak. “Egypt has shut off cell phones and the internet. It’s like visiting your parents’ house.” –David Letterman

“The Midwest got over a foot of snow; it rained ice pellets in Dallas; it’s wet and freezing in New York. I was complaining about it all day to my friend in Egypt.”–Jimmy Fallon “It was so cold in Washington, D.C., that they needed jumper cables to get Dick Cheney started.”–Jimmy Fallon “There’s so much snow in Chicago, earlier today Oprah gave everyone a snowplow.”–David Letterman

“Today Al Gore blamed the current snow storms on global warming. Al Gore said, ‘a rise in global temperature creates havoc ranging from hotter dry spells to colder winters, increasing violent storms, flooding, forest fires and loss of endangered species.’ And finally Tipper said, ‘Al will you just pay the kid for shoveling the walk, please.'” –Jay Leno

“It’s the Year of the Rabbit. I was born in the Year of the Tiger, which doesn’t make sense because I was actually raised by a pack of wild ferrets. I think rabbits are adorable. I love how their noses twitch and their feet make little key chains.”–Craig Ferguson “MTV announced that Season 4 of “Jersey Shore” will be shot in Italy in the spring. Some Italians are calling it an insult, while some Americans are calling it payback for the Olive Garden.”–Jimmy Fallon

Some big birthdays to celebrate this week. On Tuesday, my mother, the woman who gave breached birth to me, will be 85 years young. To have her living just 1.1 miles away is indeed a blessing, as she does all my worrying for me and is a huge fan of this blog. She taught me much of what I know about life and meat loaf. So in honor of your special day, Mom, here’s a joke right up your alley.

A woman goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doctor, you’ve got to do something about my husband — he thinks he’s a refrigerator!” “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” the doctor replies. “Lots of people have harmless delusions. It will pass. ” “But you don’t understand,” the woman insists. “He sleeps with his mouth open, and the little light keeps me awake. ”

Also celebrating her birthday this day is my niece Samantha, the Maria Sharapova of Marin County. And on Wednesday, it’s my old grammar school friend, Denise Cinquino Ayre, who I recently reconnected with after she left me on hold over the the phone for 40 years. Denise reminded me that I had twice invited her to go to Woodstock with me back in 1969, but she had to say no because of a modeling assignment. I told her she missed nothing except for three days of peace, love, music and mud.

So that’s our first blast for February. This has always been an interesting month on the weather front and this past weekend was no exception. The warm trade winds that blew with gale force on Saturday gave the central coast a tropical feeling I haven’t felt since devouring my last lemon chicken plate lunch from Ted’s Bakery on the North Shore. Throw in a couple of scoops of macaroni salad and wash it down with a mango coconut smoothie and you’ve captured the true aloha spirit.

So I hope you had an enjoyable Super Sunday as we now get back to focusing on the more the important things in life, like high school, college and NBA basketball. We’ll catch you at midcourt. Aloha, mahalo and later, Howard Stern fans.

Good morning and greetings, New Year’s fans. Well, 2010, much like the resolutions I made 48 hours ago to lose weight, exercise more and watch less TV, is now history, so hello 2011. But I must confess that I’m always more excited about the even numbered years. Yes, I know, that seems odd.

I spent a week over the winter holidays in lovely Palm Desert, which is located directly east of Palm Springs for those of you who have never visited this desert oasis. It is a winter haven filled with swaying palm trees, sparkling green fairways and luxurious accomodations for those seeking a Sunday brunch with ice sculptures shaped like a young Dinah Shore.

So while much of the country was as frozen as the gluten-free french toast sticks in my freezer, the desert was as warm as the holiday greeting card I received from Kim Jong II. And rumor has it while I was desert storming a little bit of snow fell in the New York Metropolitan area. It conjures up the words of my old pal Irving Berlin, “I’m dreaming of a whiteout Christmas.”

On our first few days in the southland a little moisture dropped down on the sand traps and putting greens. I’m lucky I brought along my “Sons of Anarchy” poncho, because on December 22, more rain fell in the Coachella Valley than in all of 2009. Because of the constant downpour, you wouldn’t have known this was a desert wonderland of golf, tennis and Indian casinos. It was like the old joke, what happens when the fog lifts in California? UCLA.

The following day, Noah hauled away his ark and the skies returned to their crystal blue persuasion. The snow-capped San Jacinto mountains went back to changing color throughout the day rather than being shrouded by low lying clouds. I’m not sure Moses would have recognized this place, as the palm trees, waterfalls and endless lakes might have confused the guy who parted a fool and his money right after the Red Sea.

But it might have inspired the eleventh commandmant, thou shalt build condos on the golf course with a pool and hot tub within 100 yards surrounded by fruit trees that bloom throughout the winter. Growing up in New Jersey, I was not aware that this warm weather paradise existed. I was happy just watching the traffic flow smoothly on the upper level of the George Washington Bridge.

So normally when I’m in the desert mode I’m shooting photos every day. Sunrises, sunsets, masseuses-in-training, flowers, road runners, gun runners, flocks of airborne Canadian geese and Canadian bacon. But due to sports, weather and traffic and still being in shock from the New York Giants’ collapse against Michael Vick and the Eagles, I was happy just connecting the dots in my coloring book.

Well, that’s not completely true, as I did shoot one lovely sunrise, which I have featured in photos five and six. But since this is the first post of the year, I wanted to bring to you, in the words of author David Halberstam, “The Best and the Brightest,” and let you see for yourself how spectacular the desert skies can be. I didn’t journey out there on a horse with no name, but let me tell you, it was good to get out of the rain.

Photos one and two are my favorite sunrise shots from along the back nine of the golf course at the Palm Valley Country Club. Over the years, people have asked of the second shot, was this taken in Bali, Cambodia, or Staten Island? No, it’s early morning action in the Southern Californian desert, which is great way to start the day before snorkeling in the hot tub.

Photos three and four are a couple of epic sunset shots from the land of the Bob Hope Classic. On the first, the sky turned as crimson red as any Alabama moment that I’ve ever witnessed here on planet earth. The next shot was just off the charts, as I could see from the way the clouds were lining up that the mother lode of sunsets was approaching. It turned out to be better than I had hoped, much like the matzo ball soup at my bar mitzvah party.

I should mention that on our ride up the coast to fly out of SFO the sights were also spectacular, as the storm was in full flow and thousands of gulls flooded the beaches. These were as beautiful gull shots as I had ever seen and would have made for a fantastic storm blog, but we wanted to get to the airport as quickly as possible so we could wait for a few hours as our flight was delayed, which is not the same as CANCELLED, which we experienced on our attempted return home.

And just in case you were were wondering how long it takes to drive from Palm Springs to Santa Cruz, go with 8.5 to 9 hours, just to be safe. And in the parting words of one of my newest best friends, an unnamed California Highway Patrol officer who I met early Wednesday morning just outside of Pescadero, “watch your speedometer.” A simple “Mele Kalikimaka” would have been sufficient.

Here’s a little taste of the late night. “This morning President Obama signed the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ into law. He would have signed it last night, but supporters of the bill didn’t want to miss last night’s episode of ‘Glee.'” –Conan O’Brien “President Obama signed into law the repeal of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.’ What does it say about us that we think gay men can handle armed combat, but can’t handle marriage? The census shows there are more than 308 million people living in America. The amazing part is: More than half of those people are Americans.” –Jay Leno “Sarah Palin is getting into the Christmas spirit. Today, she shot a partridge in a pear tree.” –David Letterman

So that’s our first blast of 2011. Hopefully, the new year will be filled with joy, good health and hope that things will be better for so many Americans. And if not, maybe they’ll be more garlic shrimp in my next takeout order. It’s great to be back in the saddle with my cyber audience. We’ll catch you running a deep fly pattern. Aloha, mahalo and later once again, Dwyane Wade fans.

Good morning and greetings, December fans. We’re fortunate here on the central coast, as while much of the country is blanketed under snow and ice, we’re quietly relaxing in our flannel shorts. Personally, I would prefer a tropical lifestyle because if I never put on a jacket again that would be too soon.

For those of you keeping weather maps at home, it recently snowed 95 straight hours in Syracuse, New York. The snow then stopped briefly before starting again. Oh, how I long for those early college days in the snowfall capital of the U.S.. The only blizzard I want these days can be found on the menu at the Dairy Queen.

So let’s cut right to the chase. Yesterday was my 58th birthday. Holy almost six decades, Batman. Of course, that number, like my dreams of not being prepared for tests, falls somewhere between disconcerting and terrifying, but I’m so glad it’s not yet 60, because that just semi-freaks me out. And yet, I sense that 870 days from now that gift will too arrive on my doorstep.

So what have I accomplished in my first five decades plus eight years on earth? Well, I have known my wife for 31 years and we’ve been married for 22. Yes, I may have been a tad impulsive rushing into marriage after nine years, but like John McCain, that’s just the maverick in me.

When I first met Allison she was 19 and I used to make her go sit in her teenage corner. Now she makes sure I don’t leave the house without my AARP card. It’s the whole ying and yankee thing. In three decades we have never argued, disagreed. raised our voices, or even had a fight. Well, maybe there was that one spat from from 1980 thru 1992, but that was nothing a federal mediator couldn’t have solved with a little arbitration.

I think the secret has been our interests. She has always been a sports nut, while for me, if a game is on I’ll watch it, but it’s not like I’m going to spend every week and weekend of every year for the past thirty watching some form of sports. I mean, what kind of life would that be?

So in the words of the Captain and Toni Tennille, love has kept us together, but to quote Ringo Starr, you know “it don’t come easy.” Our marriage is still a work in progress, and it’s a pleasure going to office every day.

As far as I know, our union has produced two children. Jason is taller, smarter, more sensitive, a better shooter, driver, leaper, jump server, spiker, no-look passer than his father, although I may have had a slight edge in defensive intensity on the basketball court back before there was history. He has been like a son to me and his future is so bright, his AP biology teacher has to wear sunglasses.

Aimee is my youngest and my blondest. Although she is a lefty, I see so much of her in me, from her love of lotions, sense of humor and most importantly, sense of fashion. She has the bluest eyes since Sinatra, and has the gift of evoking laughter.

I always knew that one day she would be a woman. What I didn’t realize was that she would be a teenager before that. But I am slowly adjusting to the fact that she is now a young woman and that I can unload the shotgun in my trunk. She is quite the character and is going to grow into someone really special.

These two are my greatest accomplishments. I regret that I never finished law or medical school, but that was because I never applied. When I think about what I’m proudest of, it’s all my children. They are both unique individuals, not two peas in a pod like me and Allison, and to watch them grow and discover what this world is all about, for the most part, is a fascinating thing to see. And I’ve got a front row seat.

Now I could go on and on for at least two or three more sentences listing my accomplishments, but this is a blog, not a book, so enough’s enough. Let’s move on to the photography front, as I have saved these particular images for the celebration of the day I left the warmth of the amniotic fluid, exited the birth canal, came into this world in a breached fashion and declared, “okay, let’s see what this breast feeding deal is all about.” But just my luck, access denied.

Two weeks ago, we were treated to back-to-back days of phenomenal sunrises and sunsets. The first two images are from the color explosion from the last morning of November. It was a great way to close out the month, as orange was served for breakfast.

For the rest of the day, the clouds went wild in the sky. Even without consulting my psychic, I knew that evening’s sunset would be off the charts. But at the same time, I was aware that Jason had his first basketball game that night, and with an early tipoff, something had to give. But that’s okay, because sports trump nature and only God can make a three.

So as the sun started its journey towards the horizon an amazing thing happened. No, the game wasn’t delayed an hour. Before the sun actually set, the clouds starting changing color. This was something I cannot recall ever seeing, as they were so full of aerial pigmentation that they needed to get a headstart on their twilight performance. At this point, I had to enter the gym, but my friend Dan sent me some shots from Seacliff Beach of the root beer-colored ocean followed by a brilliant crimson red sky that was just outstanding.

The first dawn of December brought us the next two images. Nothing really needs to be said besides, “wow”. It was just a spectacular morning. And we wind up the photo finish with the sunset from that evening, which in retrospect, was not the worst way to begin or end the day. I guess you could even call it liveable. I love those daily doubles in the sky, because unlike George Costanza from “Seinfeld”, we’re allowed to double dip.

Now here’s some late nite fun. “Willie Nelson was arrested for possession of marijuana. Nothing yet on bin Laden, but we got Willie Nelson.” –David Letterman “Because of a printing error, a billion new $100 bills have to be destroyed. They’re going to burn $100 billion dollars — just like they did with the last stimulus program.” –Jay Leno “Iran began holding talks with the six world powers. Participants were the U.S., Russia, China, Britain, France, and Oprah.” –Conan O’Brien

“‘A Charlie Brown Christmas’ was just on. According to a recent poll, most Americans think Charlie Brown is a Muslim.” –David Letterman “Part-time Governor Sarah Palin shot and killed a reindeer on last week’s TV show. And that was her Christmas special. Took her three shots. Well, she’s rusty. Last thing she brought down was John McCain.” –David Letterman “It looks like the Bush-era tax cuts for the rich will continue, due to a strong Republican leader, Barack Obama. Today Obama changed his slogan from ‘Yes we can’ to ‘Yes, we caved.’ It’s so bad for him, now Democrats want to see his birth certificate.” –Jay Leno

So that’s our first blast for December. Birthday wishes go out yesterday to my former radio partner and wing man Jerry Hoffman, who’s celebrating up in Whistler, British Columbia and probably flying down the slopes on a toboggan as we speak. And today’s it’s my old westside friend Carol Conta, who when she used to roller skate by my house on West Cliff was always awarded a ’10’ by the Russian judges. And on Wednesday it’s my basketball buddy Jim Berry, who few people know actually taught Kareem the sky hook and was recently named the nicest guy living in the south county.

So we may blast out one more blog next week or just shut it down for the year and return on January 4. Shot a another beautiful sunset last week that we may have to close out the year on. Either way, enjoy the sports week and we’ll catch you in the left flat. Aloha, mahalo and later, Amar’e Stoudemire fans.

Good morning and greetings, solstice fans. For change of seasons lovers, there are only three times during the year that the hours of daylight and of darkness are equal – at the spring and fall equinoxes and during halftime of Super Bowl Sunday. During the fall equinox, which arrives this Wednesday, the sun crosses the equator, passes Go and collects $200. This provides the earth with 12 hours of sunlight, a get out of jail free card and a hotel on Park Place.

Thus begins the change that results in winter for the northern hemisphere and summer in the southern. When asked about this flip flopping of seasons, the Beach Boys commented, “the southern hemisphere girls with they walk they talk, they knock me out when I’m down there. The midwest farmer’s daughter’s really make you feel alright, and the northern hemisphere girls with the way they kiss the keep their boyfriends warm at night.”

After the fall equinox and the new TV shows hit the networks, the northern hemisphere of the earth begins to tilt ever so slightly away from the sun, which drives my daughter crazy, thus slowly decreasing the amount of sunshine received until winter solstice, after which the days begin to lengthen again. Or in the words of the group America, “Ventura Highway in the sunshine, where the days are longer, the nights are stronger than moonshine.” Yes, music is my mistress.

So when the fall equinox enters our lives on Wednesday, the northern hemisphere moves away from Donna summer, which we had for about an hour here in Santa Cruz, and results in the beginning of autumn. And if you know Donna, you know, “she works hard for her money, so hard for it honey, she works hard for the money so you better treat her right.” The hits just keep coming.

In New Orleans they celebrate Drew Brees and Fat Tuesday, which is also known as Mardi Gras. As we approach Chubby Wednesday on the seasonal calendar, inquiring minds might wonder, are there any other names for the Fall Equinox? Well, how’s about Autumn Equinox, Cornucopia, Corn on the Cob, Feast of Avilon, Festival of Dionysus, Woodstock II, Harvest Tide, Night of the Hunter, Day of the Jackal, Wine Harvest, Witch’s Thanksgiving, Witchy Woman and my personal favorite, Hotel California.

Now if you’re spiritual-minded like me, and live to meditate and breathe chocolate air, here’s an interesting perspective on the day from Tammy Burnsed of Associated Content from Yahoo Press. By the time of the fall equinox, most of the autumn vegetables, fruits, grains and medicinal herbs have been collected. Mother Earth, when not being pestered by Father Time, has once again provided an abundance of food for her children. The busy time of tending fields, harvesting and living without NBA basketball is almost done and though the work of storing and preserving foods and collecting nuts with the squirrels for the winter still lies ahead, it is time to take a moment of rest and give thanks for all that has been received.

As Diane Stein writes in Casting the Circle, “…with the death of the plants is the birth and the mystery of the seeds. All growth is held in suspension and silence within.” And as we know, coming into the new NBA season, the Miami Heat will be the top seed in the east, with the reigning champions LA Lakers the top seed in the west.

So with autumn slowly working its way into our starting lineup, for today’s photo fondue, we are going back to our beginning, or as Kenny Loggins and Jim Messina say, “maybe I’ll walk on back to Georgia, back this morning, back where I come from.” That would be to the wonderful world of sunrises, where I have found a niche and am very comfortable in this arena, although not as relaxed as I was at the Fabulous Forum during the Magic Johnson “Showtime” years.

The first four images are from one of only two sunrises I’ve shot during my digital days in the month of September. The first three were taken at Steamer Lane and as you can see, the sun reflecting off the water was an attraction I could live with. As the sun climbed upward, clouds continued to gather in the sky and I later returned to the cliff to shoot the rays filtering down onto Monterey Bay (photo #4.) Turns out the clouds were having a convention and I was one of the guest speakers.

The last two images are from a fabulous sunrise from late September of 2007. The final shot was taken in front of my favorite cypress tree along West Cliff Drive. I’m extremely fond of the silhouette action that this sapling brings to the digital table, as I am of the parmesan cheese and panko breaded chicken breast topped with a wine, garlic and butter sauce with sun dried tomatoes over mashed potatoes at Gilbert’s (no relation) Firefish Grill on the Santa Cruz Wharf. It’s the new Locals Only special and it is scrumptiously delicious.

On to the late night. “According to government auditors, the stimulus money is being held up because there aren’t enough government workers to oversee the spending. So follow me, in other words, government workers who aren’t there are needed to spend money we don’t have to create jobs that don’t exist. The Atlantic had a big article on the inevitability of Israel going to war with Iran over building nuclear weapons. But the White House thinks that strong economic sanctions will bring them to their knees, raise unemployment, and cause their factories to close – the same way those economic sanctions worked right here. This whole thing with Iran, it’s amazing how different our cultures are. In Iran a woman can get stoned for committing adultery. See, here in America, women commit adultery while getting stoned.” –Jay Leno

“Here’s a weather update from Florida. This week’s Koran smoke advisory has been lifted. That crazy pastor, remember he was going to burn the Koran, he’s now suspended it. … He said he’s now looking for directions from God on where to go. You know, I can’t speak for God, but I think if he grabs a shovel and starts digging, he’s heading in the right direction. “In the Delaware Republican U.S. Senate primary, Tea Party candidate Christine O’Donnell won a huge upset. Interesting woman, very conservative. She has come out against masturbation. So not only is she against politicians putting their hands in our pockets, she’s against you putting your hands in your own pockets as well.” –Jay Leno “New FBI statistics say that crime in the United States fell 5 percent from last year. Experts say the decrease in crime could be due to the aging of the population, increased incarceration, and many criminals finding jobs in the banking industry and on Wall Street.” –Jimmy Kimmel

So that’s it for our final post for the summer of 2010. I don’t know about you, but after this summer that would have left Mark Twain shivering, I’m going to get myself a warmer bathing suit. And if you have a spare moment, be extremely grateful for your good health. Unlike Jason’s free throw shooting at crunch time, it’s not automatic. We’ll catch you in the double coverage. Aloha, mahalo and later, Red Zone Channel fans.

Good morning and greetings, NFL preseason fans. Our gloomy weather has been a popular theme this summer, as while the midwest and east coast continues to swelter through extreme heat and humidity, we’re fogged in and drizzled out. My wife and kids came back from the east coast and were shocked by the chilly weather-I haven’t seen Aimee’s teeth chatter like that since she learned she’ll have to take calculus.

Speaking of the sky, today’s story comes to us from our friends at space.com. The celestial spectacle known as the Perseid meteor shower announced its August arrival with a bright fireball and stirring rendition of “I wish I Was in Dixie” over the skies of sweet home Alabama. Viewers from around the world, along with Oprah and Dr. Phil, were delighted by these bright streaks of light darting across the night sky.

A small 1-inch wide meteor caused the fireball when it met a fiery demise August 3 while streaking through Earth’s atmosphere. The fireball was observed by skywatching cameras at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama and by roadies and groupies from the Lynyrd Skynyrd band.

The Perseid meteor shower peaked on the night of August 12-13 between midnight and dawn, with no Tony Orlando in sight. The fireball was low and outside in the sky when it entered Earth’s atmosphere. NASA observations found the meteor to be hurtling through the atmosphere at a phenomenal 134,000 mph, or about the same speed I left the DMV office after passing my driving test.

According to a spokesman from NASA, “the meteor cut a path some 65 miles long. It was about six times brighter than the planet Venus and George Bush and would be classified as a fireball by scientists and major league scouts and pitching coaches.”

Because of its relatively low approach in the sky and its long, shallow path, which coincidentally, is what Bush’s high school guidance counselor predicted he’d follow with his life, the meteor qualified as a so-called Earth-grazing meteor. Earth-grazing meteors are space rocks that enter the Earth’s atmosphere at a low angle and appear to move slowly and dramatically along the horizon, like a flock of overweight sea gulls. NASA’s Bill Cooke, who is a fine chef in his own right, says, “earthgrazers skim the atmosphere overhead like a stone skipping across the surface of a pond. Much like the chateaubriand I prepared last night, they are rare, remarkable and very colorful, among the most beautiful of meteors.”

The Perseid meteor shower is an annual event that occurs in mid-August when the Oakland A’s fall out of the pennant race and the Earth passes close to the orbit of the Comet Swift-Tuttle. Comet Swift-Tuttle, whose debris creates the Perseids, is the largest known object, with the exception of Charlie Sheen, to make repeated passes near Earth. Its nucleus is about 6 miles across, roughly equal to the object that wiped out the dinosaurs and disco. Every August, like clockwork or Brett Favre saying he’s going to retire, our planet Earth cuts through the “river of rubble” left behind along the orbit of the comet.

And yet, while comets are composed chiefly of frozen gas, meteors, like my excuses for not using spellcheck, are very flimsy. They are material that, like solar dandruff, that have flaked off comets and are similar in consistency to cigar or Arthur Ashe. Most are scarcely larger than pebbles, grains of sand or the amount of true intelligence we gathered before invading Iraq. They vaporize as they enter Earth’s atmosphere, creating brilliant streaks across the sky, much like the blonde in my hair during my West Cliff days.

Material left behind by the comet, such as rayon and a nice polyester cotton blend, ram into the Earth’s atmosphere at about 37 miles per second. This creates a show of “shooting stars” that has become known as the Perseid meteor shower. These tiny visitors from the cold, vast voids of stellar space, or like newborns in a North Dakota winter, have been orbiting in the solar system for perhaps hundreds or even thousands of years. But they cannot survive the shock of entry and end up streaking across the sky in a brief, blazing finale lasting but a few seconds. Almost none hit the ground, but if one does, it’s an error and called a meteorite.

The Comet Swift-Tuttle and a John McCain high school yearbook were discovered by American astronomers Lewis Swift and Horace Tuttle back in 1862 when Abraham Lincoln was President. It takes the comet about 130 years to orbit the sun. Comet Swift-Tuttle was last seen in 1992, and is due back in 2126, or around the same time I hope to figure out how to use my computer.

The 2010 Perseid meteor shower was one of the best ever, as skywatchers could see about one meteor per minute with maxmum activity of 90 to 100 per hour. And as I’ve always said, when it comes to the Perseid shower, buffalo chicken wings or barbecued baby back ribs, the meteor the better.

As a bonus to our shower and bath coverage, while the planets and moon are all very far apart in space, they appeared in a triangular alignment last week thanks to a special circumstance of orbital mechanics and instant karma. The outer planets, Mars and Saturn, take much longer to go around the sun than the inner planets Venus and Serena. Venus “laps” the outer planets frequently, although Serena has won more titles and has a better serve.

But wait, there’s more. In the predawn of last week, Jupiter was a brilliant jewel high in the southern sky and impossible to miss. That is, unless you are living in Santa Cruz, where it was just a rumor as we had one clear morning in July and none so far in August. In fact, the last time I saw the son at daybreak was when Jason woke me up to ask for power of attorney. And Mercury also made an appearance on the horizon last week, which was a special treat, particularly since it was in the sky and not in my broiled swordfish with toasted almonds.

So on honor of folks here on the central coast seeing less action and color in the sky than you’d spot at a Tea Party pancake breakfast, today we are showcasing a previously unseen winter sunrise from 2010 The date was January 15, a Friday for those of you who are fact checking. Another Disney morning along West Cliff Drive. Not the most fantastic colors I’ve ever seen, but compared to the skies this summer, this is this the Super Bowl, World Series and the final eposide of last season’s “Sons of Anarchy” all wrapped up into one morning.

On to a little bit of the late night. “You know those controversial TSA full-body scanners? Well, they’re coming to airports here in New York next month. Great. Normally I take a Xanax before I fly, now I have to take a Viagra.” –Jimmy Fallon “Yesterday was President Obama’s birthday. He turned 49 years old, if you believe the liberal media.” –Jimmy Kimmel Levi Johnston is running for mayor of Wasilla, Alaska. Ironically, many of the babies he’ll kiss on the campaign trail will be his own.” –Jay Leno

So that’s our weather update. Birthday wishes go out today to my old LA pal Sue Arendt, who hails from the Nutmeg State and is now the Ivanka Trump of real estate up in Berkeley. So feel free to appreciate old friends and your good health. Enjoy the warming trend and we’ll catch you above the net. Aloha, mahalo and later, AVP fans.

Good morning and greetings, patchy fog and drizzle fans. Although the skies above Monterey Bay have been cloudier than my future with the State Department, thanks to the boys at NASA, I was able to check out an X-ray photo of the sun, (no, not Jason) last week that revealed plasma blasting off the its surface, which is known as a coronal mass ejection, or what bartenders refer to as a Corona Light. When these particles from the eruption reached Earth last Tuesday, they triggered a brilliant auroral display known as the Northern Lights and back to back episodes of “Rescue Me” and “Louie” on FX.

This story, which comes to us from Yahoo News, alerted me to the fact that skywatchers at high latitudes were in for a spectacular treat of the aurora borealis, which took center stage last Tuesday night. Like my warmup routine at my hatha yoga class, after a relatively quiet stretch, the sun appears to be ramping up its activity.

The sun’s surface erupted like George Steinbrenner last Sunday, blasting tons of plasma (ionized atoms and eves) into space, which is like milk being blown through a straw at 2.5 million miles an hour. These atoms headed towards Earth and created a stunning light show that folks hadn’t seen since Jimi Hendrix played the Fillmore East back in the 60’s. This spectacular solar activity was captured by photographers but not by yours truly, as it was way past my bedtime and I had an early wakeup call for a hand modeling shoot.

“This eruption was directed right at us and arrived here, along with A-Rod’s 600th home run, early in the day on August 4th,” said Leon Golub of the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics. “It’s the first major Earth-directed eruption in quite some time and about damn time he broke out of that batting slump.”

The solar eruption was spotted by NASA’s Solar Dynamics Observatory, which captures high-definition views of the sun at a variety of wavelengths along with studying why baseball doesn’t use instant replay. SDO was launched in February and peers deep into the layers of the sun, investigating the mysteries of its inner workings, much like my own psychoanalysis.

Views of aurorae are usually associated with Canada, Alaska and fans of Timothy Leary, but amateur astronomers and insomniacs in the northern U.S. states were told to look toward the north Tuesday and Wednesday evenings for rippling “curtains” of green and red light. And if any yellow light was spotted, observers were told to, if safe, prepare to stop short of the intersection.

When a coronal mass ejection reaches Earth, solar particles stream down our planet’s magnetic field lines toward the poles, urging us to vote. In the process, the particles collide with atoms of nitrogen and oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere, which then glow, creating an effect similar to miniature neon signs saying “open 24 hours” and “ATM machine inside.”

The interaction of the solar particles with our planet’s magnetic field creates geomagnetic storms, or disturbances in our planet’s magnetosphere, resulting in the creation of groups like the Tea Party or Mother Grizzlies. This latest blast sparked a storm that lasted for nearly 12 hours, enough time for auroras to spread all the way from Europe to North America. The auroras turned the sky purple, green, blue, and orange, which are the same colors I dream in after eating some Cherry Garcia right before I go to sleep.

The sun’s activity, like my training for Ironman Triathlon, usually ebbs and flows on a fairly predictable cycle. Typically, a cycle lasts about 11 years, a period of time when there are few sunspots, to peak at the solar maximum, during which sunspot activity is amplified while I focus on nutrition, hydration and making sure my living trust is up to date.

The last solar maximum occurred in 2001. The latest minimum, like the Bush years, was particularly weak, long-lasting and devastating to our nation. The most recent solar eruption is one of the first signs that the sun, and hopefully lawmakers in Washington, are waking up and heading toward another maximum, where hope and jobs are created and we can outsource that monetary stress that pervades our country right now.

So in honor of the solar tsunami that sports fans were treated to last week, today we are going back to the beginning. These photos feature the first sunrise I ever shot with a digital camera, back in early January of 2005. When I first saw the colors from this morning, I wondered if the computer had altered them as they were so unusual, or a George Costanza would say, “a pinkish hue.”

The reason for these unique colors is that I shot this series way before the sun rose. I took this as a good sign for Sunrise Santa Cruz as just a few days later I shot my all-time favorite sunrise (Orange Explosion) on Dr. Martin Luther King’s birthday. But this morning, like the first time I laid eyes on my wife and being named to the Dean’s List at Syracuse, are moments that I carry very my close to my heart and kidneys.

Let’s go to the late night. “Happy birthday to President Obama. Republicans tried to block his birthday but they didn’t have enough votes, so it went through and the President was able to turn 49 today right on schedule.” –Jimmy Kimmel “Happy birthday to President Obama. If you want to get him a present, he’s registered at Bed, Bath, and Blame Bush.” –Jay Leno “President Obama is 49 years old today. He blew out all of his candles and wished for his old job back.” –David Letterman

“According to the National Enquirer, Bristol Palin has called of her engagement with Levi Johnston after finding out that he also got his ex-girlfriend Lanesia Garcia pregnant. Forget the oil spill, can someone put a cap on this guy.” –Jay Leno “Sarah Palin today said she has mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, she was never a big fan of Levi in the first place, but on the other hand, she had already shot the polar bear to make her daughter’s wedding dress.” –Jimmy Kimmel “President Obama announced his plan to remove all combat troops from Iraq by the end of August. So thank you to all the men and women serving in Iraq and ‘Good luck in Afghanistan!'” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s our show. Birthday wishes go out to my EPA investigating cousin Geri Gilbert, who turns the big 50 today. And on Thursday it’s my old West Cliff pal Linda Krause, who never met a mango she didn’t like and doesn’t blame herself for the Celtic’s loss in game seven of the NBA Finals.

So be glad you’re not vacationing in Pakistan because heavy monsoon rains have created floods that are ravaging this nation-Osama Bin Laden hasn’t been on Facebook for days . And those wildfires raging in Russia are no day at the beach either, with the smoke causing the worst air pollution in that country’s history. So I guess I can live with a little coastal fog and beach volleyball.

So enjoy the last couple weeks of having the kids at home. And speaking of which, Jason was at Yankee Stadium last Wednesday when A-Rod hit his 600th homer. He didn’t catch the home run ball, but did manage to snag a Nathan’s Famous hot dog, a Johnny Rockets burger and a slice of Famiglia’s pizza. And that was just during batting practice. We’ll catch you behind the pitcher’s mound. Aloha, mahalo and later, Derek Jeter fans.

Good morning and greetings, fireworks fans. I know many of you are enjoying the holiday but perhaps wondering, how come most of us are not working today? So as part of my patriotic duty and for the fact that I love singing “I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy,” with the help of Wikipedia, answers.com and my unending stream of semi-conciousness, here’s a quick refresher course on why kids blowing off their fingers and firecrackers on the Fourth of July has become part of the American landscape.

In the United States, Alaska and Hawaii , Independence Day is a federal holiday commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence which declared our independence from the Great Britain, which except for their language, wasn’t really all that great. The Fourth of July is commonly associated with fireworks, parades, barbecues, fist fights, carnivals, fairs, picnics, drunken driving arrests, concerts, baseball games, domestic violence and political speeches that help celebrate one of America’s great three-day weekends.

The trial separation of the American colonies from Great Britain occurred on July 2, 1776, when the Second Continental Congress voted to approve a resolution of independence along with an internship for Monica Lewinsky. Congress then turned its attention to the Declaration of Independence, which had been prepared by a Committee of Five and the Five Stairsteps, with Thomas Jefferson as its principal author. Congress debated and revised the Declaration, finally approving it on July 4. A day earlier, John Adams texted to his wife Abigail:

“The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America, and not just because most Americans will be home from work. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival and blowout mattress sale day. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty and Major League Baseball. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more, or at least until we restore our economy, exit Iraq and Afghanistan, and clean up that damn oil spill.”

Adams’ prediction and my birth were off by two days. In a remarkable coincidence, both Adams and Thomas Jefferson, two founding fathers of the United States and the only two men who signed the Declaration of Independence to later become president, died within hours of each other on the same day: July 4, 1826, which was the United States’ 50th anniversary, and the same day of birth as my high school homecoming queen, Vicki Grimsland, the Michelle Pfeiffer of Fort Lee High. Happy birthday, Vicki, and will you please sign my yearbook.

The Declaration of Independence declared. “We hold these truths to be self-evident,
that all men (with the exception of Michael Jordan) are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” Coincedentally, this is the same oath I had take from Direct TV when I ordered by NBA League Pass.

With these memorable words, Thomas Jefferson, at the age of 33, laid the cornerstone for the United States of America and later his late wife’s half sister, Sally Hemings. The Declaration of Independence invokes the principle of natural rights and lefts. These are the basic rights of which each individual is possessed, and of which he cannot be stripped by society or government except during the George W. Bush administration.

The adoption of the Declaration of Independence and the opening of the first Circuit City took place against the backdrop of ongoing Revolutionary War hostilities. When the signers affixed their John Hancocks and signatures upon the document they were, in the words of the group Triumph, “laying it on the line,” since there was a bounty on the revolutionaries’ heads. Who knew this kind of trouble could come from absorbent paper towels that clean up the smallest spills and biggest messes.

When Benjamin Franklin said, upon signing the Declaration of Independence, “We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately,” it was no less than the literal truth. Just ask Saddam Hussein. Fifty-six men and a notary public signed the first copy of the Declaration of Independence. John Hancock, as president of Congress, was first, and he famously wrote his name front, center and large, right before cutting the ribbon on opening of his first insurance company. Remember, for all your financial needs, we have the solution. We’re John Hancock.

Let’s move on to this week’s photo sunspots. Traditionally, July is not a big month for sunrises or the cleanup of the biggest environmental disaster in world history. Looking back into the archives, I have only photographed one July morning sky blowing up over Monterey Bay in the past five years. This is due to coastal fog, lack of clouds and the fact that my contract with National Geographic allows me to sleep in past 5:30 am in the summer.

This central coast beauty graced our skies in July of 2006. It was a warm summer morning, a day that Michelle Obama probably went sleeveless. I woke up from my usual dream of not having studied for my test after not being able to find my car keys while being buck naked. So with that fine start to the day, I grabbed my Miley Cyrus mug, filled it with Red Bull and headed down to the coast.

As you know, when it comes to sunrises, I don’t stray far from Lighthouse Point. But at this time of the year, the sun rises further to the east, so I headed to Cowell’s Beach for the low tide equinox. Surfers were out in full force, as the offshore winds had me swaying as gently as a dancer at a Taliban bachelor party. As you can see, it was a fantastic start to the day, as the clouds, the reflection on the sand and the voices in my head all came together for this convergence of morning light.

On to the late night. “Sunday is July 4, when America combines our two favorite pastimes: alcohol and explosives. The fireworks are beautiful to look at, but more importantly, they drown out the gunfire.” –David Letterman “July 4 is my favorite holiday. No presents, no church, just a lighter and a trunk full of explosives.
Here’s a fireworks safety tip. Don’t get drunk and leave bottle rockets on the grill unless you want to see your hot dogs fly, which is fun too. For the second day, there were no World Cup games. I missed the sound of vuvuzelas so much that I taped a beehive to my head.” –Jimmy Kimmel

“BP’s company newsletter has an article that says most gulf residents aren’t upset with BP because their cleanup crews have boosted the local economy. BP taking credit for boosting the economy in the gulf is like al Qaeda taking credit for creating jobs in airport security.” –Jimmy Kimmel “Here’s something great. Russian spy ring here in New York City. They were busted in New York City. Once again, they were spotted by an alert T-shirt vendor. The Russian spies tried to blend in. They were acting like Americans. As a matter of fact, for two weeks, they were pretending they loved soccer.” –David Letterman

So that’s our first blast for July 2010. Yesterday, I drove by a cemetery, where hundreds of American flags were blowing in the wind. And then it hit me like a ton of emotional bricks, this is what this holiday is all about. For all our faults, God Bless America, home of the brave, land of the free. Or as they say in the NBA, “my country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of free agency.” LeBron James, of thee I sing.

Anyway, take a moment to remember how fortunate you are to be an American. Or a National Leaguer. We’ll catch you in the bullpen. Aloha, mahalo and later, Larry King fans.