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, August fans. Well, July 2010 is now history, and it will not go down as the warmest month of my life. Officially, that would have been November of 1952, when I spent the month perfecting my back stroke in the amniotic fluid. Which reminds me of the old joke, “waiter, there’s a fly in my soup. Force of habit, sir. Our chef used to be a tailor.” Or “don’t worry, the spider on your bread will get him.”

Anyway, I was at my daughter’s championship softball game last Wednesday night, and I don’t want to say it was chilly, but my electric blanket was shivering. Now, while we’ve been experiencing frigid summer weather, folks on the east coast have been sweating like Levi Johnston alone with Sarah Palin on a moose hunting trip.

I bring up this meteorological data up because my wife, children and various nannies just left on a ten day trip to New York City. Now, my bride has spent some time back east enjoying the wonders of the heat and humidity, but my son and daughter have never enjoyed that special feeling of extreme discomfort one gets from being in an summer sauna. As the slogan says, I love New York, especially when the humidity is over 100 percent.

Back in the old country, on those days of stifling heat and unbearable humidity, we would just lock down the compound, turn on the air conditioning and wait for Yankee baseball. And of course, there would be runs to the sacred Pizza King for a slice or a chicken parmesan sandwich. As I used to tell our family psychiatrist, “a slice a day keeps the doctor away.”

Which brings us back to New York, New York, the insomniac city that never sleeps. So much to do and see and be afraid of. The Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Wall Street, the Museum of Unnatural History, Yankee Stadium, Hell’s Kitchen, Times Square, Madison Square Garden, Ground Zero, Little Italy, Big Italy and of course, Chinatown, featuring Hop Kee at 21 Mott Street, a true Cantonese experience that’s open till 4am on weekends. Reports are that the lo mein and wor shu gui chicken are still why God created chopsticks.

Throw in the Disunited Nations, Late Night with David Letterman, Rockefeller Front and Center and riding the New York City subways and you’ve had yourself quite a day. I would love to have gone on this trip and visited my ancestor’s sacred burial grounds, but Tommy Wolfe called to remind me that “you can’t go home again,” so I had to pass.

So for those of you who’ve never been to New York or who just love Derek Jeter, here are a few fun facts about the city they say is the greatest in the world. It was once said, if you stand at Times Square long enough, you’ll see the entire world walk or crawl by.

The Dutch purchased the island of Manhattan (really its southern tip) from the Algonquin tribe for trinkets, tools and some duct tape worth about $24. With that they built the Holland Tunnel. More than 60 percent of NYC’s residents do not own a car, a percentage higher than in any other city in the United States. Of the 60 percent who do own cars, 50 percent have had them stolen. The New York subway system is the largest mass transit system in the world with 468 stations and 842 miles of track that runs 24 hours a day. An average of 4.9 million people ride the New York City subway each weekday, with 3.9 million wishing the person next to them would move over a little bit.

New York City has 4,000 street food vendors selling hot dogs, pretzels, falafel, kebobs, and fake Rolexes. The first pizzeria in the United States was opened in NYC in 1895 by Gennaro Lombardi and his brother Pepperoni. Toilet paper was invented by NYC resident Joseph C. Gayetty in 1857, after enjoying a desert of plum pudding. America’s first vending machines were installed in the subways of New York City in 1888, and were broken into for the first time later that same day.

New York’s Yellow Cabs are yellow because John Hertz, the company’s founder, craved daffodils and learned from a study that yellow was the easiest color for the eye to spot. The “New York Post,” established in 1803 by Alexander Hamilton, is the oldest running newspaper in the United States and the place were my thoughts about the NBA could be consistently read by inquiring minds throughout the 1990’s. And finally, New York City is the most populated city in the USA with more than 8.2 million people. 37 percent of the city’s population is foreign-born, which makes this the U.S. city with people utterering obscenities in the most foreign languages at 170.

Moving on to our photo festivities, I like to start out each new month with some color and play-by play. Now, I shoot sunrises and sunsets in August about as often as I admire what the Republicans are doing in Washington, so it came as a bigger surprise than my SAT scores when this sunset hit the skies back on August 5, 2008.

I was shooting this parade of clouds from Stockton Avenue along West Cliff Drive. What added to the drama were the unending chains of pelicans flying thru this glowing festival of light, with some more than sixty strong, adding a Nature Channel bonus to this blessed event. And if that wasn’t enough, a rainbow appeared in the eastern sky, making this the most photographically spectacular August evening since Chelsea Clinton’s bachelorette party.

On to the late night. “Vice President Joe Biden has declared that the heavy lifting is over for the year, and it’s time to begin campaigning and talking about the White House’s accomplishments. The heavy lifting might be over, but it sounds like the heavy shoveling is just beginning.” –Jay Leno “WikiLeaks has posted over 90,000 classified documents about the war in Afghanistan. The Pentagon is outraged, the White House is furious, but British Petroleum is relieved: ‘Finally, a leak we had nothing to do with.'” –Jay Leno “Leaked documents show that Pakistan has been taking American money and using it to fund the Taliban. The Pakistanis are denying it, and they’re like, ‘The Taliban bought those iPods with their own money.'” –Craig Ferguson

“Congress’ approval rating has hit an all-time low of 11 percent. To give you an idea of how bad that is, the BP oil spill is at 12 percent.” –Jay Leno “BP is firing its CEO, Tony Hayward. They’re negotiating a settlement for $18 million. Boy, that’ll teach him.” –David Letterman “BP CEO Tony Hayward complained that he was unfairly ‘demonized’ in the U.S. over his handling of the Gulf oil spill. In response, demons complained that they were unfairly compared to BP CEO Tony Hayward.” –Jimmy Fallon

“Continental announced a new feature called ‘self boarding.’ There’s no ticket agent taking your boarding pass anymore, and you scan it yourself as you board the plane. It’s part of Continental’s ‘Terrorists Fly Hassel-free’ program.” –Jay Leno “A federal judge has blocked Arizona’s immigration law. Immigrants have been celebrating and throwing confetti. The governor of Arizona said, ‘Sure, now they’re showing us their papers.'” –Craig Ferguson Starbucks’ profits went up 37 percent in the third quarter of this year. They say they owe the increase to their new strategy of opening a Starbucks inside an existing Starbucks.” –Jimmy Fallon

So Jeb Bush is running for president. I don’t know about the rest of the country, but thank God, ladies and gentlemen, the comedy recession is over! “A lot of security at the Chelsea Clinton wedding, a huge security detail, and that’s just to keep Bill from the bridesmaids.” -David Letterman “Facebook now has 500 million users. The previous record holder was heroin.” –Jimmy Kimmel

So that’s our first blast for of the new month. Special birthday wishes on August 7 go out to my favorite daughter Aimee, who’s turning sweet 13 and growing more beautiful and entertaining every day. Celebrating on this same day is my old Hermosa Beach pal Bruce Meyers, who when he hears the word “strand,” doesn’t think hair. Also joining the parade this day is my old Syracuse partner in crime, Rhonda Starer, who first turned me on to the the wonders of Hop Kee and chow fun. Then on the 8th, my favorite microbiologist, Dr. Charlotte Borgeson, celebrates her special day with cake, ice cream and a lecture on the wonders of mozzarella cheese.

Reports from the Big Apple say the humidity is on hold, so my family got luckier than Heat fans in Miami. So enjoy the good moments of the day. And if you know someone who’s not doing so well on the health front, say a little prayer for them. We’ll catch you down the left field line. Aloha, mahalo and later, Lance Berkman fans.

Good morning and greetings, capped oil well fans. Well, the weather, much like my love for skinny jeans, has turned here on the central coast, as the fog, chill and gloom have been temporarily replaced by clear, sunny skies. But the blue sky, warm breezes and clam chowder in a bread bowl are not the only things that have returned, and as an incredible number of blue whales came to party in Monterey Bay about two weeks ago. Combine that with the reaper fans who swam here to see Blue Oyster Cult at the Boardwalk on June 25, and the bay’s burnin’ for you.

In a story, or “In-A-Gadda-Vida” for you Iron Butterfly fans, written by Laith Agha for the Monterey Herald, July 7 was once of the most extraordinary whale watching days ever here on Monterey Bay. Nancy Black, a marine biologist and owner of the Monterey Bay Whale Watch, says this is the first time since 2003 that blue whales or Dodger fans had been seen in any sizable numbers in the Monterey Bay.

At the time, including humpback whales and Miami Dolphins, 140 baleen whales were feeding in local waters. They flocked to Monterey’s waters to visit the acquarium and to feed on the abundance of krill, a favorite food of baleen whales. Instead of teeth, blue and humpback whales trap their food with baleen, a flexible bone structure that looks like a gigantic comb and acts as a filtering system that sieves small animals from ocean water, which is the same process I used to filter thru the sweet and sour shrimp at the Mandarin Garden’s all-you-can-eat buffet.

Because of the ecotourism, Northern Pacific blue whales typically breed and vacation 400 miles west of Costa Rica, then head north and toward the coast to feed. Though they often are spotted around the central coast from July to October, they have been spending the past few feeding seasons fattening up near Santa Barbara and farther south. This is because that is where the most krill has been and many are Laker fans, says local blue whale expert Tony Lorenz.

The prevalence of krill in local waters depends largely on oceanic upwelling, a wind-driven process that causes nutrient-rich water from the ocean depths to move toward the surface. So it’s not just the Kareem that rises to the top. Conditions have not been right in recent years to support large krill populations in the waters around Monterey, Lorenz says. Because blue whales primarily feed on krill and the fact that the Warriors only have made the playoff once over the last 16 years, they have not come around much.

At 75 to 100 feet long and upward of 100 tons, blue whales are the largest animals on Earth. They are larger than any dinosaur or anyone in Yao Ming’s family. To satisfy their appetites, they eat 4 tons of krill and a sandwich each day. There are about 10 million krill and a kosher pickle in each ton. Krill and avocado salad are the only things blue whales eat. The tiny shrimp-like creatures cluster together and whales ingest hundreds of thousand of them on at a time along with cocktail sauce and a few Ritz crackers.

Because of unregulated whaling in the first half of the 20th century, the blue whale was nearly hunted to extinction. That’s why I’m not crazy about harpoons or anyone mentioning my blubber. About 360,000 were killed from 1900 to 1966, when the International Whaling Commission banned hunting of blue whales. The global blue whale population is estimated at 10,000, with about 2,200 believed to live in the Pacific Ocean off North America or in Capitola.

Because of their size and oil inside them, blue whales were one of the most hunted whales for centuries. By the early 1900s they were almost extinct and rebuilding the species or a franchise is not easy, just ask Golden State Warriors fans.

The whales seem to be using long range communication or Facebook, as they can hear each other from a couple miles away to try and get the word out about the krill a minute. When blue whales have shown up in the past, they have been known to stay through summer and fall, then some head south as late as Christmas while the Jewish whales stayed thru Hanukah.

But how long they stay this time will depend on the food supply. “They could be here for a few days or a few months,” Black says. “We hope they’ll stay around here for a while.” Most likely they’ll stick around until, in the words of BB King. “the krill is gone.”

Let’s move onto this week’s photo entry. It was exactly three years ago today that I was heading down to the Boardwalk the see the fabulous Eddie Money in action. As I walked along West Cliff Drive, I spotted a pelican feeding frenzy in progress and hustled back to my car, grabbed my camera and proceeded to take more shots than Cav’s owner Dan Gilbert did at LeBron James after he announced he was joining Dywane Wade in South Beach.

Some kind of bait fish was running in the bay as the pelicans were dive bombing into the water like baseball fans going after a Derek Jeter home run ball at Yankee Stadium. It was a warm, beautiful night as I joined the pelicans to soak in the Money Man’s medly, including my personal favorite, “Wanna be a rocker, wanna be a rocker, wanna be a rock n’ roll star.” Eddie, who’s been performing here for years, was in classic form that evening. In his words, “I remember coming here in the 70’s when I was snorting South American countries.” All his greatest hits and a geography lesson.

I took the last couple of shots of the gulls and the coastline after the show. Just a classic combo of nature and rock, as there was a whole lot of shakin’ going on along the edge of the continent. The Money Man hits the Boardwalk this summer on July 30, with two shows at 6:30 and 8:30. And the best part is, the sand, sea, and sounds are free. As they say at Fort Knox, rich or poor, it’s nice to have Eddie Money.

And here’s the late night. “Rush Limbaugh had an apartment here in New York City. He sold the apartment for $11.5 million. That is $2.5 million for the apartment and $9 million for what they found in the medicine cabinet. But it was a huge apartment — 4,000 square feet of space. No, wait a minute, that’s Rush. Sold it for $11.5 million. It has a very narrow view. It overlooks the flaws of the Republican Party.” –David Letterman

“Let me say congratulations to Spain. They won the World Cup yesterday. Spanish people all over the world celebrated in the streets, except of course, in Arizona.” –Jay Leno “South Korea has new robots along its border with North Korea that can detect and kill intruders. Meanwhile they’re installing robots along the U.S. border that say ‘Hola.'” –Jimmy Fallon BP is putting a new cap on the leaking oil well. It could capture up to 90 percent of the disgusting filth that’s spewing from there. And if it works, they’re going to try the same thing on Mel Gibson.” –Craig Ferguson

“A lot of people continue to be very upset by the fact that we can’t get Osama bin Laden. Osama bin Laden? We can’t even get Roman Polanski. Yankees owner George Steinbrenner passed away. He was a tough guy. Within five minutes in heaven, he fired God and told Jesus to lose the beard.” –Jay Leno “If you know anything about the big spy swap here in New York City, there were 10 spies and they were running around New York City stealing secrets. They arranged a big spy swap. It was very exciting. We sent them 10 spies, and they sent us four spies, plus a Cuban pitcher.” –David Letterman

So that’s it for this week’s entertainment. Last Wednesday, a gopher came out of a hole in my front yard and saw his shadow, which means at least six more weeks of saying, “what the hell are we doing in Afghanistan?” On a more positive note, congratulations go out to my cousin Gina, who’s softball pitching daughter Julie gave birth the same day to a 8 pound, 11 ounce boy. Reports are both mother and son Landon are doing well while Gina is warming up in the bullpen.

So enjoy the super selection of summer fruits and let’s all look forward to the day when we start to rebuild the Warriors and this country. We’ll catch you on the warning track. Aloha, mahalo and greetings, Joe Lacob fans.

Good morning and greetings, heat wave fans. While the east coast was suffering under scorching, brutal, record breaking heat and humidity last week, the central coast was cooler than the other side of my pillow. If you like cold and foggy weather in the July, then Santa Cruz was the place to be. What tourist doesn’t love wearing mittens and a down jacket at the beach? Or to paraphrase my old pal Mark Twain, “the coldest winter I ever spent was a summer riding the Big Dipper.”

The temperatures have been sweltering inland, but the chilly, gray sky mornings are normal weather for the coast. According to meteorlogist Diana Henderson of the National Weather Service in Monterey, “it’s not unusual. This happens every year at this time. That’s why they film ‘Baywatch’ in Hawaii.” It’s understandable, because we wouldn’t want to see Pamela Anderson wrapped in a blanket as she tries to save a school of baby dolphins from getting caught in a riptide. That would defeat the porpoise.

The central coast’s frigid summer conditions comes mostly from the chilly Pacific Ocean, which acts as an air conditioner and minty air freshener, according to Henderson. “Without it, we’d be Nevada.” That’s right, blackjack, showgirls and the illusions of Siegfried & Roy, right here, where the redwoods meet the sea and anarchy.

My thanks to Shanna McCord of the Santa Cruz Sentinel for the weather service updates. When I woke up Tuesday morning, the ground was soaked like my tank top after a ten mile run up the coast. It looked like rain, but it was actually the drizzle from the heavy fog. I hadn’t seen that much condensation on the ground since Jennifer Beals took the stage in ‘Flashdance.’

That brings us to our top news story of the week. As reported by Andrew Zajac in the Los Angeles Times, the Agriculture Department’s Natural Resources Conservation Service said it would begin paying some gulf region farmers, ranchers and football coaches to flood their fields so that migratory birds can find alternative rest and nesting grounds to oil-fouled habitats.

The Migratory Bird Habitat Initiative will pay to use up to 150,000 acres of land “to provide feeding, resting and reading areas for migratory birds.” The program applies mainly to former wetlands, low-lying land and skateboard parks in Alabama, Arkansas, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Missouri, Texas and France. Conservation officials are hoping to attract birds who don’t have internet access to safe areas before they land on shores and wetlands contaminated by the massive oil spill.

Landowners would be expected to flood fields and promote the growth of vegetation and snacks favored by migratory birds, or to enhance existing wetlands on their properties, as rice fields, fish farms and Long John Silver restaurants are particularly suited to the initiative.

The Deepwater Horizon oil spill has fouled off numerous pitches along with marshes and coastal areas relied on by birds and other wildlife. The gulf region sits beneath one of the world’s major migratory flyways, with about 1 billion birds from more than 300 species passing through annually, says Greg Butcher, a vegetarian and director of bird conservation for the National Audubon Society. “None of this is guaranteed to work,” Butcher says. “We’re expecting that this will work at least a little bit. We’re hoping that it’ll help a lot. What I’m really trying to say is these birds are screwed”

On that positive note, in a story reported by Michael Kunzleman for the Associated Press, less than three years before New Orlean Saints won the Super Bowl and the Gulf oil spill erupted, federal regulators and a couple of fortune tellers concluded several offshore drilling projects posed a low risk to endangered wildlife – a determination that contrasts sharply with recent scenes of birds and vacationers struggling to survive the slick.

A September 2007 memo from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service said large oil spills from the proposed Gulf drilling projects under review were “low-probability events” that weren’t likely to affect brown pelicans, sea turtles, other animals or the economic futures of fisherman, shrimpers and oyster lovers with Gulf Coast habitats.

The memo concluded that the chance of oil from an offshore spill of at least 1,000 barrels reaching endangered species or their habitats was no greater than 26 percent. Now, I’m no math whiz, but I’d calculate their estimates were off by, approximately, let’s say, a million percent.

Less than three months before the Fish and Wildlife Service issued its memo, the National Marine Fisheries Service concluded that the same Gulf leases, including BP’s for Deepwater Horizon, were “not likely to jeopardize the continued existence of threatened or endangered species.” Well, I’m sure that comes as a relief to all the migrating birds and their families. Because as we all know, a bird in the hand is worth two gallons in the Bush administration.

So in honor of Larry Bird and friends, I thought we would take a look at some winged creatures who reside here on the central coast. We start with a great blue heron, who I photographed right outside the arch early one morning at Its Beach. I shot the snowy egret in the landing mode right after it had flown through the same arch on an extreme low tide afternoon. This was the same day I photographed a rainbow through the arch and decided that I wanted to be Mikhail Baryshnikov when I grow up.

Then it’s onto four snowy egrets in a marshland up in Richardson Bay in Mill Valley, followed by some pink flamingos vacationing in Palm Desert and a snowy egret reflecting in the pond at Natural Bridges. Flamingos don’t actually live here on the central coast but sometimes journey to Monterey Bay for a spa weekend and to have their legs shaved. Much like myself, they enjoy standing on one leg with the other tucked beneath their body. It’s both relaxing and a way to save on the wear and tear of our shoes.

The final image is a red shouldered hawk, who I photographed at Antonelli’s Pond, which is less than a mile by the way the crow flies from my compound here on the westside. It was early in the afternoon when I spotted this beauty. With my zoom, I was able to get close enough to get a shot of those incredible talons wrapped around the branch. And the best part is, this is the only hawk, besides Dominique Wilkins, that I’ve seen in this spot over the past eleven years. There’s something about capturing the flag or the moment.

Here’s a taste of the late night. “The East Coast is suffering from a terrible heat wave. Wall Street bankers are jumping out of windows just for the cool breeze on the way down. You people are so lucky you live in California. This heat wave back east is just unbelievable. … It was so hot in Washington, Nancy Pelosi skipped the Botox, had her face injected with frozen yogurt. Back in 1776, Americans were fighting to escape British rule, these days we’re fighting to escape British oil. They say traces of BP’s oil has started turning up in disturbing places, like congressmen’s pockets.” –Jay Leno

So that’s our show, petroleum lovers. Here’s a few quick petro facts before I cruise off into the fog bank. Americans drivers consume 19-20 million barrels of oil every 24 hours. That’s 10,000 gallons a second. If we all drove 30 miles less per week, oil consumption would drop 20%. Then again, if my aunt had,er, spheres, she’d be my uncle. Just a few things to think about the next time you fill up the old Hummer.

So in honor of the uniting of LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, I’m taking my Sonny Crockett jacket out of mothballs. Sorry Knick fans, but your suffering will continue.

So enjoy the long days of summer and let’s hope someday that we leave Afghanistan. And if you have moment, say a little prayer for the displaced and homeless. We’ll catch you in the American Airlines Arena. Aloha, mahalo and later, David Lee 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.

Good morning and greetings, sports fans. What a wild and wacky week for supporters on the athletics front. Now, if you know me, you know I’m a soccer nut. Wherever I go, I’m dribbling a soccer ball and yelling GOOOOAAAAALLLLL! I say, what’s not to like about a sport that has little scoring, where the majority players never get use their arms and the fans riot in the stands? USA, USA, USA!

But of course, that’s not the whole story. The USA national team’s journey into this international Woodstock of corner kicks, yellow cards and players faking injuries is teeming with story lines. We’re talking game-deciding goals taken away by outrageously poor officiating, last-minute winning kicks and those nail-biting scoreless tie games. Personally, as a gifted learner, creative thinker and high achiever, I’ve set many goals for myself. Unfortunately, Landon Donovan fans, none have come on the soccer field. Here today, Ghana tomorrow.

Growing up in the Garden State of New Jersey, we did not play ultimate frisbee or launch scud missles with our foreheads to try and score goals. We did play a much less sophisticated form of the sport in kickball, where I performed like Pele in PF Flyers. There must be something genetic in my jeans as neither my son or daughter has much interest in the sport or ever blowing one of those vuvuzela horns. Just a couple of minutes of hearing those made me want to strangle Nelson Mandela and rip out my eardrums. God bless FIFA, as my World Cup runneth over.

Now I understand the excitement surrounding the best players from each country getting together for this kumbaya of international sports competition. The scene in South Africa reminded me of my first trip to Yankee Stadium. I was as excited as Tony Hayward visiting the White House as we crossed over the George Washington Bridge and heading into the Bronx to visit the House the Ruth built.

Earlier in the day, I knew this event was going to be something special as I put on my baseball cap, grabbed by glove and tightened up my bulletproof vest. And when we arrived at these hallowed halls of Yankee greatness and peanut shells, I was not disappointed, although I couldn’t believe all the cursing, violence and alcohol abuse, and that were just among the security guards. “Buy me some macadamia nuts and Cracker Jack, I don’t care if I never go back.”

Then for you tennis fans, we had the match of the ages at Wimbledon, as a five-set thriller between American John Isner and Frenchman John Mahut, (who curiously didn’t surrender,) lasted 11 hours and 5 minutes. That’s right, Brooklyn Decker fans, 11 hours plus. You could have flown to England, picked up some fresh muffins and an autograph from Hugh Grant, gotten back on the plane and arrived home with time to catch the final game and a repeat of “Benny Hill.”

The fifth set itself was a six hour plus marathon, or about the same amount of time it takes me to get dressed for a wedding or an exorcism. Because if you know me, you know I like to dress for success. The score in the fifth set was 70-68, which is like a soccer game ending at 50-49. A match like this, much like weight dropping under 175, will never be seen again.

In the mail this week, I received my new copy of Boys’ Life and Via, the AAA Traveler’s Companion magazine. In the section, “Reader’s Favorite Places to watch sunsets, the first location listed was Lighthouse Point, Santa Cruz, CA. In the words of Tania Garber, “no freeways, buildings, or mountains obscure the view from the cliffs. As the sky and Monterey Bay morph from one beautiful color to another, it’s like watching a movie in its entirety.” Tania, I could not have plagerized it any better.

So for today’s photo listings, we are heading to this glorious spot. These are two sunsets I shot from Tania’s favorite spot. I like shooting here because of the sweeping ocean view, the dynamic color of the cloud reflection action on the sand and the parking is free.

The first three shots are from an early October twilight experience while the last three came in mid-February. For those loyal observers of the sky at dusk, these are good times of the year as summers are a bummer on the color front. We just don’t get the clouds. I haven’t shot a sunrise in months, and that’s why someone like myself, who craves color in the sky and blueberry muffins, doesn’t hibernate in the winter.

On to the late night. “You know about the big change in Afghanistan? General McChrystal did an interview in Rolling Stone and he was talking about how much he didn’t like Joe Biden. He was talking about the Administration. He was trashing everybody. So President Obama calls the guy home from Afghanistan, and they had, like, a sit-down in the White House, in the Oval Office, today. It was very, very intimate. It was the President, it was General McChrystal, the Salahis, and that’s it. The general is in trouble for shooting off his mouth. Once again, another hole Obama can’t plug.” –David Letterman “Today, President Obama fired General Stanley McChrystal, saying McChrystal showed poor judgment in his Rolling Stone interview. It turns out when it comes to criticizing the White House, the general’s policy is ‘just ask, and I’ll tell.'” –Jimmy Fallon

“President Obama is being criticized now. Here’s the problem. The British Petroleum guy, Tony Hayward, was on his yacht recently. Everybody thought, whoa, this idiot. I mean, the Gulf of Mexico is turning to asphalt and the British Petroleum guy is relaxing on his yacht. When he heard about that, President Obama was so angry, he missed a putt. Now, in Obama’s defense, people are saying, ‘Wait a minute, the president has always had his own particular way of relaxing.’ For example, George W. Bush had his way of relaxing. He was president. That’s how he relaxed.” –David Letterman David Letterman’s “Top Ten Ways Tony Hayward Can Improve His Image” 8. Reveal secret behind his soft and lustrous curly hair 6. Shoot new BP commercial where he is viciously pecked by angry pelicans 4. Get a job at Poland Spring; accidentally dump a billion gallons of water into the gulf

“While testifying before Congress yesterday, BP CEO Tony Hayward called the oil spill a ‘complex accident caused by an unprecedented combination of failures.’ Then he realized he was reading notes left on the stand by a Goldman Sachs executive.” –Jimmy Fallon “Congressmen have been saying from the beginning that BP is either lying or grossly incompetent. Well, why can’t we have both?” –David Letterman “Sarah Palin has revealed she has tried marijuana, but she did not like it. You know, it’s amazing: 200 million Americans have smoked marijuana. The only ones who don’t like it seem to be elected officials. Ever notice that?” –Jay Leno

“Looks like this Gore divorce could end up being pretty costly. In fact, Al Gore now talking about only trying to save half the planet.” –Jay Leno “Yesterday, Fed Chairman Ben Bernanke said the economy appears to be on track to continue to expand through this year and next. And then he said, ‘And you can take that to one of the remaining banks.'” –Jimmy Fallon “A great day for President Obama. He addressed a group of senior citizens in Maryland today. He’s pitching his health care bill. According to a poll, half the seniors thought the president was convincing, 30 percent thought he was unconvincing, and the rest thought he was Will Smith.” –Craig Ferguson

So that’s our last posting for June 2010. And congratulations go out to my parents, who last Friday celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary with a lovely lunch at Risorante Italiano, which offers award-winning Italian fare in a casual and festive atmosphere. Not counting leap years, that’s 21,900 days, or 525,600 hours of marital bliss. In a word, unbelievable! And they said it would never last a half century.

Went with Jason and my financial advisor/ minor league scout friend Bruce and his son to the Oakland Coliseum Saturday night to see the A’s in action. It was 70’s Retro Night, and Bruce must have some pictures of owner Lewis Wolff because we had front rows seats behind the A’s dugout. It’s tremendous seeing the ballplayers up close and personal as the head into the dugout, while everyone in the park is sitting behind you. And remember, a walk is as good as a hit and tie goes to the umpire.

So enjoy the remaining days of June and get ready for the July 4th weekend. And if you’re in the mood, tell someone today you love them. We’ll catch you down the right field line. Aloha, mahalo and later, Trevor Cahill fans.

Good morning and greetings, summer solstice fans. As you know, the Katie Couric in me likes to report on the important news of the day. Whether we’re talking the oil spill, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan or the secret to those “nooks and crannies” in Thomas’ English Muffins, I don’t want my cyber peeps to miss out on anything important that occurs on my watch.

So you may not have seen this next story, reported by Randolph E. Schmid for the Associated Press, but fear not, my weekly readers, for I have it covered like buttercream frosting on a triple fudge chocolate cake.

Ethel Merman once crooned, “there’s no business like shoe business.” Well, about 5,500 years ago, or around the birth of John McCain, someone in the mountains of Armenia put their best foot forward in what is now the oldest leather shoe ever found. It will never be confused with a clog, a Jimmy Choo or Cinderella’s glass slipper, but this well-preserved Prince Charming of footwear was made of a single piece of leather, laced up the front and back, like a Paris Hilton sweat suit.

Worn and shaped by the wearer’s right foot, the shoe was found in a cave along with an argyle sock and an insert from Dr. Scholl’s. The shoe had been stuffed with grass, a lawn mower and a tiny rake, which all dated back to the same time as the leather of the shoe – between 5,637 and 5,387 years ago.

“This is great luck,” enthused archaeologist and mocassin collector Ron Pinhasi of University College Cork in Cork, Ireland, who led the research team. “We normally only find broken pots, egg timers and microwaves, but we have very little information about the day-to-day activity” of these ancient people. “What did they eat? What did they do? What did they wear? What was Bernie Madoff thinking? This gives us a real glimpse into their society and secretive hedge-funds.”

Previously the oldest leather shoe discovered in Europe or Asia was on the famous Otzi, the “Iceman” found frozen in the Alps a few years ago and now preserved in Italy. Well, either that or a Chuck Taylor hightop Converse sneaker dating back to the early Harlem Globetrotter days. Otzi’s shoes were made of deer and bear leather held together by a leather strap. The Armenian shoe appears to be made of cowhide, which is very similar to a pair of leather chaps I bought at a rodeo in San Francisco.

Older sandals and a pair of Ugg Boots have been found in a cave in the state of Missouri, but those were made of fiber rather than leather. The shoe found in what is now Armenia was found in a pit, along with a broken pot, some wild goat horns and a letter of apology from Tiger Woods.

It’s not clear if the grass that filled the shoe was intended as a lining or insulation, to maintain the shape of the shoe when it was stored or an early cure for preventive glaucoma. The Armenian shoe was small by current standards – European size 37 or U.S. women’s size 7 – but might have fit a man of that era, like a young Wayne Newton or Pee Wee Herman.

While the Armenian shoe was soft like a piece of brie cheese when it was unearthed, the leather has begun to harden like Coach Bobby Knight since it has been exposed to air. And unlike a lot of old shoes, it didn’t smell, which explains the bottle of Dr. Scholl’s Odor Destroyer All Day Deodorant Spray found nearby.

Pinhasi says the shoe is currently at the Institute of Archaeology in Yerevan, but he hopes it will be sent to laboratories in either Switzerland or Germany where it can be treated for preservation with Desenex Antifungal Spray and then returned to Armenia for display in a museum or a Lady Foot Locker. Because as we all know, the shoe must go on.

Moving on to our photo funhouse, in honor of the first day of summer, we’re featuring the first sunrise of the new decade (photos #1-2.) On the morning of January 1, 2010, I journeyed down to West Cliff Drive to meditate and greet the new millenium. It was an overcast morning, but then a hint of light appeared in the east, and as I strummed “this is the dawning of the age of Aquarius” on my autoharp, the sky broke and this delightful color appeared. There is something to be said about being first or a Yankee fan.

We follow this sunrise with a beautiful sunset from eleven days later. These rich images were captured at Natural Bridges as January was a spectacular month for experiencing the pagentry and colors of the coastal sky and for returning holiday gifts. My favorite image is #5, as I zoomed in on this squadron of pelicans heading south at happy hour, who, I found out later, were headed for the early bird special.

On to the late night fun fare. “President Obama is now in the Gulf of Mexico. This is his fourth visit since the spill. So the president has been down there four times. And the head of BP is saying, ‘Well see, it hasn’t affected tourism.’ “Thanks to BP, the Gulf now has two new islands: self-service and full.” –David Letterman “There is good news! BP today finally managed to almost completely stop the flow of information. There is good news. Scientists sent a probe down there in the Gulf of Mexico today and they found traces of seawater.” –Bill Maher

“Here’s a little bit of good news. The Coast Guard says that BP is now catching up to 630,000 gallons of oil a day. The bad news is that they’re capturing it with ducks. The White House said today that BP is moving up its timeline for containing the oil by two weeks. They said they’d get it ‘done, even if they have to work six hours a day, four days a week.’ “There’s some good economic news here. Employers plan to hire 5 percent more college graduates this year than in 2009. Unfortunately, almost all these jobs involve rubber gloves, paper towels, and a one-way ticket to the Gulf of Mexico.” –Jimmy Fallon

“According to a new report, BP has the worst safety record of all the oil companies. They’ve paid over $372 million in fines. Oh, they don’t call them fines. They call them ‘campaign contributions.'” –Jay Leno “The U.S. will face England in the World Cup, and the U.S. ambassador and the U.K. ambassador have made a friendly wager on the game. If England wins, we have to buy their ambassador tea and crumpets, and if we win, they have to buy us a new ocean. “Did you hear about this? In Afghanistan, the U.S. has discovered large deposits of iron, copper, cobalt, gold, and lithium. Or, as most people would call it, ‘not Osama bin Laden.'” –Jimmy Fallon

“Today, President Obama finally met with BP’s CEO, Tony Hayward, but the meeting was only scheduled 20 minutes. Call me crazy, but I think it should take more time to discuss an oil spill than it does to get your oil checked.” –Jimmy Fallon “These British Petroleum guys can’t do anything right. The chairman of BP, Carl-Henric Svanberg, told reporters that sometimes large oil companies are greedy and don’t care, but ‘not BP. We care about the small people.’ That’s what he called the residents of the Gulf — ‘the small people.’ But to be fair, English is not the guy’s first language. Money is. See, the problem is I do believe they care about the small people. Problem is, they don’t care about the big leak.” –Jay Leno

“And then today, the president met with BP CEO Tony Hayward, and Obama was demanding that BP clean up the gulf. And I’m thinking, good luck. They can’t even clean up their gas station restrooms.” –David Letterman David Letterman’s “Top Ten Things Overheard During President Obama’s Meeting with Tony Hayward” 7.”Speaking of leaks, where’s the men’s room?”
6.”Thanks for giving my administration something to worry about besides two wars, a crushing debt, global warming and the worst economy in 70 years” 2.”Biden, please, enough with the vuvuzela”

That’s our first post for the summer of 2010. Congratulations go out to Kobe Bryant and the Los Angeles Lakers for knocking off the Boston Celtics in a hard-fought, seven game series to capture their second consecutive NBA title. It’s always sad when the short, eight month NBA season comes to end, but it will give me a chance to work on my poetry, song writing and body sculpting.

So enjoy the official start of summer, the longest Monday of the year and we’ll catch you at the NBA draft. Aloha, mahalo and later, Phil Jackson fans.

Good morning and greetings, Gulf Coast fans. I don’t know about you, but I can’t stop thinking about all that oil gushing out into the ocean. Well, that and chocolate air. Just think, how many gallons flowed into the Gulf in the time that it took you to read that last sentence? So when I ran across this next story, written by Holbrook Mohr for the Associated Press, I had to share it with my cyber peeps, proving that sometimes co-dependence can be a wonderful thing.

The Gulf of Mexico is a superhighway for hurricanes that form over pools of hot water, then move north or west toward the coast. The site of the Deepwater Horizon oil rig that exploded on April 20 is along the general path of some of the worst storms ever recorded, including Hurricane Camille, which wiped out the Mississippi coast in 1969, Hurricane Katrina in 2005 and Hurricane George in 2000, which ravaged our military and nation’s economy.

My daughter’s softball practices and the hurricane season officially started last Tuesday, and while scientists and the Klu Klux Klan seem to agree that the sprawling slick isn’t likely to affect the formation of a storm, the real worry is that a hurricane might turn the millions of gallons of floating crude into a crashing black surf.

Some fear a horrific combination of damaging winds, large waves and BP accountants pushing the oil deeper into estuaries and wetlands and coating miles of debris-littered coastline in a pungent, sticky mess, which happens every time I attempt to make chop suey.

And the worst effects of an oil-soaked storm and my Asian cooking might not be felt for years: If oil is pushed deep into coastal marshes that act as a natural speed bump for storm surges, areas including New Orleans, the Florida panhandle and the frontcourt of the Miami Heat could be more vulnerable to bad storms for a long time.

Experts say there are few, if any, studies on such a scenario. In this “untreaded water … it’s tough to theorize about what would happen,” said Joe Bastardi, chief long-range hurricane forecaster and high hurdler with AccuWeather.com. My family goes way back with Joe, as I grew up with his cousin, that Rat Bastardi, back in Jersey. Sometimes it seems like these lines write themselves.

The lone precedent, experts agree, is the summer of 1979, when Hurricane Henri hampered efforts to contain a spill from a Mexican rig that eventually dumped 140 million gallons off the Yucatan Peninsula. This environmental disaster ruined my summer vacation, as we had to cancel all our deep-sea fishing excursions and instead spent the entire trip indoors sipping margaritas, eating quesadillas and bustin’ up pinatas at Senor Frogs. But on the plus side, my batting stroke improved tremendously for wiffle ball.

Still, while oil from that spill coated miles of beaches in Texas and Mexico, tropical storms, unseasonable cold fronts and guacamole, chips and salsa helped reverse offshore currents earlier than normal and drive oil away from the coast. “That’s what I think would happen this time,” he says. “I’m sure a hurricane would do a great deal of diluting the oil, spreading it out where the concentrations would be much less damaging. Of course, if I’m wrong, we’re all screwed”

Experts are predicting a busy hurricane season with powerful storms. Bastardi predicts seven named storms, two or three major hurricanes and overweight windbag named Rush Limbaugh will have an effect on land this year. Hurricane season began June 1 and runs through November. Early season storms, much like responses when I send out my resume, are uncommon. The busy part of the season is August through October as stronger storms typically form during this time, as the start of the NFL and new TV season approaches.

A hurricane like Katrina or having eight more years of the oil companies being in bed with the Bush family “would be a worst-case scenario” with oil pushed far ashore, says National Wildlife Federation scientist and pole vaulter Doug Inkley.

“It would suffocate the vegetation. You’d get oiled birds and other animals. It’s virtually impossible to clean up oil. It would be worse than the pajama parties the Bushes were having with the Saudi Royal family.”

By August 1, even under the best case scenario offered by federal scientists, there could be some 51 million gallons of oil that is spilled into the Gulf-five times the size of the Exxon Valdex disaster off Alaska’s coast in 1989. If all that oil were put into gallon milk jugs, the jugs could be lined up and span a round-trip between Salt Lake City and New York City. If you are including cookies to along with them, then think Las Vegas.

Here’s the bottom line, sports fans. This oil is going to continue to flow into the Gulf until at least August. It will have environmental repercussions for my children’s children and their pets. Because of our insatiable thirst for this bubbling crude, we’ve gone through all the readily accessible oil and are now searching for new fuel in places that only Flipper, Jacques Cousteau’s family and the cast from “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” should be visiting.

So if you want to be outraged, listen to this. According to Mary Kate Cary in USNews.com, “Since the Deepwater Horizon exploded, the Obama Administration has granted at least 19 environmental waivers of gulf drilling projects and at least 17 drilling permits for deep water projects.” I’m screaming right now, Mr. President, can you hear me?

Here’s one more tidbit for you. Many people are wondering, will this disaster affect the price of oil this summer? Well, according to Brian Williams of NBC News, “the sad truth is, if you added up all the millions and millions of gallons of oil that has spilled out into the gulf, it equals only about an hour’s worth of our nation’s energy consumption.” In the words of the Ides of March, “I’m your vehicle, baby, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

Due to the Bush administration’s atmosphere of non-regulation and the corrupt federal Mineral Management Service, who enjoyed a much too cozy relationship with BP, we find ourselves playing catchup in the Gulf. Two months ago, President Obama was promoting offshore drilling, and his administration and BP were about as ready to handle a spill like this as I was for my math SAT.

My son asked me the other night, “Dad, why are we killing the earth? It seems like we go from one disaster to the next. Why is this happening and can I please have my allowance?”

These are difficult questions to answer but a believe the “g” word plays a big part. No, not gee, I don’t know, but greed. The final word today, my fellow Americans, comes from Robert Palmer, who says, “might as well face it, we’re addicted to oil.” There’s so much more I’d like to rant about on this subject, but the solar panels of my wind turbines are dusty so I’ve got to gas up my electric car because I’m down to my last liter of vegetable oil.

So in honor of our oceans, I’d thought we’d take a look at a few marine animals that inhabit the waters of our central coast. I headed down to the wharf on Friday to check out the action, and was greeted by the fog enshrouding the Boardwalk (photo #6). I then walked over to a boat landing on the wharf and was welcomed by this gang of sea lions (photos #4-5,) who were relaxing in the sun while discussing the adjustments the Celtics needed to make in game two of the NBA Finals.

I shot this seal in the sand (photo #3) last week at Natural Bridges. However, the first two images of the pelicans are probably the most meaningful. I photographed them on Thursday, right after seeing pictures of the brown pelicans drenched in oil in Louisiana. The sad thing is, even after they capture and clean off the birds, it takes ten days to rebuild their feather’s natural waterproofing and file insurance claims.

But here’s the big problem. Even when the birds are released in Florida where the oil hasn’t hit yet, because of their ability to follow their internal homing device, their compass brings them right back to Louisana. It’s no Mardi Gras in these marshlands. It’s migratory madness for millions of birds who don’t read the newspaper, watch the news and have never heard of anyone named Katrina.

Here’s a little late night action. “Today, President Obama flew to Louisiana to see the gulf cleanup effort firsthand. And it was just like President Bush’s trip to Louisiana, except Obama actually landed. A new poll found that 43 percent of Americans think President Obama is doing a good job at handling the BP oil spill. Of course, the same poll found that 43 percent of Americans hate pelicans.” -Jimmy Fallon

“In fact, President Obama fired the head of the Mineral Management Services, because of lack of oversight of offshore oil rigs. It’s got to be tough finding another job after that. It’s like, ‘I see you were head of the department in charge of preventing oil spills? And this was during the huge oil spill?’ ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ ‘You may not be Wendy’s material.'” This is a crazy story. An American adventurist strapped himself to a bunch of helium balloons and floated from England to France. Immediately afterward, people in Mexico asked, ‘Exactly how many balloons?'” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s our environmental update. It’s been a tough time for wildlife fans and the families of the oil rig workers that were killed in the blast. But besides our oceans being poisoned, thus creating oxygen depletion zones where nothing thrives and BP’s use of 700,000 gallons of Corexit, a chemical oil dispersant that’s toxic to army, navy and marine life, it was a pretty good week, as I helped rescue a gopher snake, spotted a coyote in Pogonip and heard reports of porpoises in the kelp beds in the bay. So enjoy the warm June days , the NBA Finals and we’ll catch you at midcourt. Aloha, mahalo and later, Ray Allen fans.

Good morning and greetings, Dwight Shrute fans. That’s right, my son Jason’s favorite TV show, “The Office,” is starting to grow on me, and the beet farming Mr. Schrute is quite the character. Throw in Jim, the insane Michael Scott and the rest of the gang, and this show is the “Seinfeld” for the texting generation. Because of my hand modeling career and my undercover work for NASA, I don’t get to watch it as often as I like, but when I do it rarely disappoints, unlike the road to Hana, last season’s New York Giants or my senior prom.

Last Thursday was an interesting day, as I like my stress served medium rare. The Dow Jones plummeted 1,000 points in 15 minutes, due to either a high speed trading glitch, the Greek credit crisis or the Raider’s cutting ties with quarterback JaMarcus Russell. This free falling of the market cost investors and Bernie Madoff’s son’s billions. But it’s only money, and in the words of billionaire Paul McCartney, “I don’t care too much for money, money can’t buy me love.” Yes, that may be true, but it really does buy everything else. Well, except for peace of mind, which, American Express says, is ‘priceless.”

But some good things happened on Thursday. As I headed out onto my walk along West Cliff Drive, I noticed the cormorants had returned to the shelf along the cliff (photo #1) just outside of Natural Bridges. They had been gone for close to a year, or about the last time I shaved. They’re here to build nests (photo #2,) talk sports and go on Facebook.

They had been nesting in this spot last summer, until one day when they just vanished. They had seemingly destroyed their nests and hightailed it out of there faster than you could say, “Steve Carell.” I soon learned that there wasn’t enough food in the area and they were starving, so they flew the coop and rented condos in Tahoe for the summer. It missed seeing the eggs hatch and the babies being born, but fortunately, the “Sons of Anarchy” returned to FX that week, and nothing nourishes and replenishes the soul like the adventures of an outlaw motorcycle gang.

So I shot away like Annie Liebowitz in bankruptcy court on this beautiful spring day along the Pacific coast. A gull joined the action and squawked away (photo #4,) making a sound I hadn’t heard since my wedding night.

Two years ago, when I was shooting the cormorants in this same spot, gulls starting attacking me as I waded in along the ice plants. I thought to myself, wow, how interesting, here’s one species of birds protecting another. Somebody get me National Geographic on the phone. Well, it turns out my theory of birds of a feather sticking together was incorrect, as I was walking too close to the sea gulls nests and they felt threatened. I hadn’t seen that kind of aviary anger since Larry Bird choked Dr. J in the eastern conference finals back in the 80’s.

While I was snapping away, another group of birds flew into the picture. At first, I thought they were cornish game hens and immediately starting boiling some wild rice. Then I realized these grayish winged objects were pigeons as one landed on a stool nearby. Many of us think of pigeons as dirty little birds that don’t do much good for society, like the Republican party. But this little squab, who landed on the fence nearby and I named Walter, seemed different and conjured up my thoughts on KFP, who proudly proclaim, “we do pigeon right.”

The final shot was taken as I was walking down near the lighthouse and came upon this pelican, who was just a few feet off the path. Since he allowed me to get within a few feet of him, I immediately thought that he was either sick or a fan of the blog . He was an absolutely beautiful bird and his feathers gleamed in the sun, much like my hair does after using my daughter’s tropical coconut shampoo.

Pelicans along the west coast have had health problems in the recent past and this fella looked hungry, so I put a $20 bill in his bill and pointed him in the direction of the Crow’s Nest. There he ordered an ice tea, the calamari appetizer and a fish taco, and then flew out of there without leaving a tip. So now we know he must have been sick, because in the bird world, pelicans are known as very good tippers.

Let’s move on to the late night, “Something very suspicious happened over the weekend. A car parked at, like, 45th and Broadway, very suspicious. And I’ll tell you the most suspicious thing about the whole episode was that the guy found a parking place. Thank God the car bombing was thwarted by an alert carjacker.” –David Letterman “The bomber’s name is Faisal Shahzad. What, is Snoop Dogg naming terrorists now? They’re still looking for his brother, Fo Shizzle. They don’t know where he is.” –Jay Leno

“Anyway, police raided this guy’s house. I guess it’s in Bridgeport, Conn. Some of the neighbors say the suspect told them he worked on Wall Street, so they were relieved to find out he was just a terrorist.” –Jay Leno “Authorities say Faisal Shahzad, the Times Square bombing suspect, went to terrorist camp in Pakistan. Honestly, who are these parents that are sending their kids to terrorist camp?” –Jimmy Kimmel “Yeah, they plucked a guy off a plane. They say he was a moody loner. Last year, he vacationed in the tribal regions of Pakistan. Well, no red flags there.” –David Letterman

“Speaking of terrorism, two new videos from the Pakistani Taliban seem to show that their leader, Hakimullah Mehsud, is alive, even though the U.S. thought he was killed. So, either our intelligence is wrong or they’re just shooting the new movie, ‘Weekend at Hakimullah’s.'” –Jimmy Fallon “The Iranian dictator, Ahmadinejad, is in town. He has got a busy schedule. Today it is the U.N. And then tomorrow, he’s going to be on ‘The Rachael Ray Show,’ filleting a camel.” –David Letterman “It’s Cinco de Mayo, or as they call it in Arizona: May 5th.” –Jimmy Fallon

“On Monday, British Petroleum promised to pay all necessary cleanup costs for this oil spill. And they said they will do it, no matter how much they have to raise gas prices.” –Jay Leno “British petroleum, these boobs running this operation, they said: ‘O.K., now wait a minute. It’s just going to be a P.R. nightmare. What can we do? We’ll give everybody a free tank of gas. All you have to do is drive your car right down next to the Gulf of Mexico.’ They say the oil spill has the potential to kill more wildlife than a Sarah Palin hunting trip.” –David Letterman “Well, scientists are predicting that the oil from the BP spill will eventually reach the shores of Florida. So if you hated visiting your grandparents before, wait until you’re hosing down their oily bodies after a long day at the beach.” –Jimmy Fallon

One more environmental note. There’s bad news for Crimson Tide fans, as thick blobs of tar have begun washing up on the shores of sweet home Alabama. These BP boys were about as prepared for this spill as I was for changing for my first diaper.

I spent Friday afternoon at a track meet in lovely Pebble Beach, and then triple jumped home and shot a cute sunset that evening. So with my camera as healthy as LeBron James’ elbow, we’ll continue to photograph life as we know here in this cold water paradise. I hope Sunday was a good day for all you mothers out there. We’ll catch you at the free throw line. Aloha, mahalo and later, Rajon Rondo fans.

Good morning and greetings, nuclear disarmament fans. Well, spring is in full bloom, and for allergy sufferers, April flowers bring congestion, sneezing, runny noses and the urge to rip out the back of your throat. Fortunately for me, all I’m allergic to is penicillin and Fox News, so I’m on a sinus roll.

So while a good segment of the population is experiencing that postnasal drip, headachey, watery eye type of feeling, my wandering eye was elsewhere. For today’s story, we head to the far northeastern corner of our nation, a place where the sun rises first. It was filed by CLARKE CANFIELD of the Associated Press. And as you know, four of out five dentists recommend the Associated Press for their patients who are looking for material to entertain their blog readers with.

For the past 135 years, sardine canneries have been as much a part of Maine’s small coastal villages as clam chowder served in a sourdough bread bowl on the Santa Cruz wharf. It’s been estimated that more than 400 canneries have come and gone as the lone survivor, the Stinson Seafood plant, shut down last week after a century in operation. It is the last sardine cannery not just in Maine, but in the United States. In the words of Don McLean, “bye, bye, Miss American Sardine Pie.”

Like english muffins, french toast and Penelope Cruz, sardines were once considered an imported delicacy. They are any of dozens of small, oily, cold-water fish that are part of the herring family that are sold in tightly packed cans. They are very familiar to me as I once had a ballroom dance instructor who was a very cold fish.

The first U.S. sardine cannery opened in Maine in 1875. Dozens of plants soon popped up, sounding whistles, loud horns, and a medly of Bee Gees’ greatest hits to alert local workers when a boat came in with its catch. By 1900 there were 75 canneries, where knife-wielding men, women, robbers and young children expertly sliced off heads and tails and removed innards before packing them tight into sardine tins, like riders on a New York subway train at rush hour.

Production at Maine canneries has been sliding since peaking at 384 million cans in 1950. Last year, Stinson produced 30 million cans. As Robert Plant used to ask in the middle of Stairway to Heaven, “does anyone remember sardines?”

Still, it came as a surprise to employees when Bumble Bee Foods LLC announced in February that the plant would close. The plant was under pressure from shrinking consumer demand, increased foreign competition and the that fact that diners could never get that intense fishy smell off their fingers.

Sardines at one time were an inexpensive staple for many Americans who packed them into their lunchboxes and shirt pockets. Ronnie Peabody, who runs the Maine Coast Sardine History Museum and a Popeye’s Chicken in the town of Jonesport, has a cookbook published in 1950 called “58 Ways to Serve Sardines.” It includes recipes for sardine soup, casserole, parmesan, creamed sardines and spinach and my personal favorite, spaghetti and sardine balls.

Sardine consumption began falling decades ago, he said, after canned tuna came on the market and Americans’ tastes changed. In Monterey, California, a group of self-described “sardinistas,” who deny ever trying to overthrow the government of Nicaragua, have taken on the task of trying to get Americans to eat more sardines. The group is formulating a business plan in hopes of returning “the lowly sardine to the American palate and bring and NFL team to Los Angeles,” said Mike Sutton, a vice president at the Monterey Bay Aquarium.

But not canned sardines. That’s over, Johnny. Sutton’s group wants to promote fresh sardines sold at fine dining establishments like Wienerschnitzel or in prepared foods at retail stores, much the way tuna, salmon and Pepperidge Farm goldfish are now sold.

“We recognize the American public turns their noses up at sardines,” Sutton said. “It may be a challenge and it may be insurmountable, but our motto is ‘It’s not your grandfather’s sardine.'”

Well, my grandfather, who loved the New York Yankees and break dancing, never showed any fondness for sardines. I’ve never had a bite of sardines in my life. But I remember when I was a youngster, we’d grab our fishing poles and head down to the river to catch catfish, crayfish and my grandpa’s favorite, gefilte fish. We’d come home, fry them up and then just text each other all night. Ah, life along the Mississippi.

But wait, there’s more. People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals have written a letter to Maine Governor John Baldacci encouraging him to press for something other than seafood processing at the site of the recently closed Stinson plant. PETA official Tracy Reiman says “lobsters and fish are smart, sensitive and unique individuals who should be respected, not killed and canned.” Reiman suggests using the plant to package blueberries instead of seafood. I think she may have a point. Fish are considered brain food, they swim in schools, and when was the last time you heard someone say, “look, you stupid trout.”

So let’s move on to today’s photo fantasy tour. For you Alex Trebek fans, this is what is known as the daily double, the sunrise and sunset from the same day. We’re heading back to early January, when this amazing color filled the morning sky down at Lighthouse Point. Later that day, after watching a little Jeopardy, I came back down to the cliff as returning champion to finish my task, and you can see the the results. The final shot was taken after the sun had set and featured some really unusual colors-I hadn’t see those kind of hues since I wandered into the Rainbow Family’s meditation circle at Woodstock.

Let’s bring on the late night fun. “As you probably know, the volcano on the tiny island of Iceland has shut down air traffic. President Obama had to cancel his trip to Poland. President Obama said he hopes the volcano will stop smoking soon and the volcano said the same thing about him.” –Jimmy Kimmel “The volcanic ash from Iceland disrupted air travel all over Europe. Everything’s grounded. Commercial flights. Private jets. The only thing still flying — Toyotas. “President Obama and some prominent Democrats proposed a solution to the erupting volcano — they want to pour money into it. “According to a top Iranian cleric, earthquakes and volcanoes are caused by women wearing immodest clothing. Or as most guys would call it: a fair trade-off.” –Jay Leno

“The British government sent a warship to France to bring home stranded Britons. There was an embarrassing moment — when the ship pulled up to the port, the French immediately surrendered.” –Jay Leno “The volcano cloud is gritty ash and it’s making its way toward Russia. In fact, Sarah Palin can see it from her house.” –David Letterman “Sarah Palin got an iPad and she was complaining that it’s not really that absorbent.” –Bill Maher “Everyone knows if a Republican comes out of the closet and sees a gay shadow, it means six more years of a Democratic administration.” –Jon Stewart

“Well, the government said today Somali pirates being held in U.S. custody will be brought to the United States for prosecution, and they will be tried by a jury of their peers. So I’m guessing that’s what, Goldman Sachs? Well, just four days after Goldman Sachs cost investors $12 billion by failing to tell them that they’re being investigated for fraud, they gave out another $5.4 billion in bonuses. Huh? Even Somali pirates are going, ‘Come on! This is rather disturbing. A government panel made up of all retired military personnel says that the school lunches are a threat to our national security because they make our kids too fat to serve the country. It’s unbelievable. Remember the old days, when the Army wanted the best and the brightest? Now they’re stuck with the biggest and the widest.” –Jay Leno

So that’s our final blast for April. The NBA playoffs are going full tilt and the action was hot and heavy last week. Laker fans are sweating like Bernie Madoff waiting in the shower line. So enjoy the warm days, sunny skies and we’ll catch you at the scorer’s table. Aloha, mahalo and later, Kevin Durant fans.