Good morning and greetings, plantain fans. If you’re like me and visit Safeway seventeen times a week, you’ve probably noticed the changing of the guard in the produce department. Where apples, oranges, tangerines and grapefruit once filled the bins, cantaloupe, watermelon, peaches and strawberries have moved to center stage of this fruit frontier.

These tasty botanical treats are part of our life blood. I don’t think I’ve gone more than an hour over the last few months without injecting a California Cutie into my bloodstream. And it’s not because they’re super sweet and an excellent source of Vitamin C with an easy to peel zipper skin. They’re just the perfect snack and so portable for a blogger on the go.

But like the NBA, their season is soon coming to an end. Or as Mark Twain once put it, “Why not go out on a limb? Isn’t that where the fruit is?”

So in my cyber travels, I came across this edibly delightful story involving an old friend. Last week, at a department store in Tokyo, Dole Fruits released 59 limited-edition premium bananas priced at 590 yen or $5.80 a pop.

They were Dole’s prized Gokusen variety, the best of the best, and were emblazoned with a fancy serial number and elegantly wrapped in a red felt gift box. A perfect gift for a birthday, bar mitzvah or the Sultan of Brunei’s fruit salad.

Now you or your grocer might be wondering, why in the wide, wide world of sports would someone fork over six bucks for a banana when you can pick up a half dozen for half the price?

Well, here’s the scoop. According to Japan Today, Dole scientists used 100 different types of bananas to breed what it deemed a perfect specimen. They then grew the resulting strain at an undisclosed location 500 meters above sea-level, where temperatures fluctuate at just the right range and speed for optimum sweetness.

All this research and development supposedly resulted in a banana that’s 36.5 percent sweeter, 33.4 percent more fragrant, and 40 percent better textured than conventional bananas. We’re talking banana royalty, as this must be one plastic fantastic, super delicious and extremely scrumptious banana.

You may be wondering, why only 59 bananas for this promotion? It’s just coincides with the date, which was 5/9, or May 9th if you’re keeping score at home.

It seems the Japanese are very particular about their produce. Another Japanese company ripens its bananas in a room with Mozart playing continuously because it results in a sweeter fruit. It’s the same reason why I blast out the Doobie Brothers while I’m taking a shower.

So this got me thinking. Bananas have been my companions all my life, from the early days of bananas and sour cream, to the college years of chocolate banana milkshakes to the present day fruit smoothies. And we both bruise easily, so I can relate.

So here’s a few fun facts about this starchy gem. Bananas do not grow on a tree, but are actually a giant herb. This makes the banana plant the largest in the world which does not have a stem made of wood. Until recently, I had two big banana palms adding a tropical touch to my backyard. They didn’t produce any fruit but did keep the rat and raccoon population under control.

A cluster of bananas sold in supermarkets is a “hand” of bananas, while the individual bananas on the hand are called “fingers.” The strings that go up and down the length of bananas are called “phloem bundles,” that help distribute nutrients to every part of the growing bananas. As Johnny Carson would say, “I did not know that.”

It is believed by many experts that bananas were the first fruit cultivated by humans. Why, I do not know. I would have gone with watermelon.

According to my first grade teacher, Miss Chiquita, bananas were introduced to the United States at the 1876 Philadelphia Centennial Celebration, where they were sold wrapped in foil for 10 cents each. And it wasn’t till 1923 that the banana split came along, when some visionary decided to cut the bananas length wise and then load on three flavors of ice cream and sauces, then garnish it with crushed nuts, whipped cream and finished off with cherries from the maraschino tree on top.

The term “banana republic” was coined by American writer O. Henry. It is a reference to any Latin American, Caribbean, or African country that was politically unstable, relied heavily on basic agriculture, was not technologically advanced and had no Gap Outlets. Like the country of San Marcos, that Woody Allen traveled down to in his movie comedy “Bananas.”

Woody played a New Yorker named Fielding Melish, who gets dumped by his girlfriend and then relocates to Central America to take part in a revolution and is named the country’s new president. Here’s a quick sample of his humor.

Fielding Mellish: “You busy tonight?” Norma: “Some old friends are coming over. We’re gonna show some pornographic movies.” Fielding Mellish: “You need an usher?”

The movie’s a classic. One of my all-time favorites. I have the poster hanging in my garage along with my track medals.

A boy boards a bus and sees a man sitting with a banana in each ear. He says to the him, ‘Hey mister, you’ve got bananas in your ears.” There’s no response. So he says it louder, “Hey, mister, you’ve got bananas in your ears.” Still nothing.

Finally, he screams at the top of his lungs. ‘Hey mister, you’ve got bananas in your ears.” At that point, the man looks up and says, “Sorry I can’t hear you. I’ve got bananas in my ears.”

Ah, the simple life.

Moving along to the photo parade, we return to Lighthouse Point and West Cliff Drive on the morning of January 11. This is the place where it all happens. This sunrise was beautiful from every angle as the clouds went through some interesting changes. But what I even liked better was the sunrise the next day, which was off the charts color wise. So stay tuned.

On to some late night humor. “Part two of Donald Sterling’s interview with Anderson Cooper aired on CNN tonight. It may have been the first time I’ve ever seen an apology that was more offensive than the thing being apologized for.” – Jimmy Kimmel “How about this weather, ladies and gentlemen. It’s 81 and cloudy, just like Donald Sterling. – David Letterman

“During his trip to the White House yesterday, Uruguay’s president said that more Americans should be bilingual. Then Joe Biden said, “Thanks, but I’m happily married.” – Jimmy Fallon “Dr. Dre may become the world’s first hip-hop billionaire. So maybe my mom was right. I should have become a doctor.” – Conan O’Brien

“It’s a very exciting time in television. This is the time when all of the networks and TV show providers get together and announce their new TV line-ups. CBS has a wonderful new show. It’s called CSI-SPU — Special Parking Unit. Justin Bieber is accused of stealing a cellphone from a fan. The police now say that he is at large. He’s armed and Bieberous.” – David Letterman

“New research suggests that people who are more ambitious will live longer. While people who are less ambitious will live longer with their parents. A new study claims that 1 in 10 Americans no longer carry cash. They’re called English majors.” – Seth Meyers

So another post is in the books. We’ll catch you being the mastermind of the most efficient running offense in the NBA while in the aiming for another championship. Aloha, mahalo and later, Greg Popovich fans.

Good morning and greetings, rock and roll fans. Music is my mistress, as many days I walk around with a certain song playing over and over in my head, drowning out the voices that I normally hear and cherish. And cherish is a word I use to describe all the feelings that I have for you cyber readers inside.

Speaking of cherish, not to be confused with cherries, which are bursting with flavor and sweetness this time of the year, it was the first song played when my wife and I hit the dance floor at our wedding. It was either going to be that or the Guess Who’s’ American Woman,’ but “American woman, stay away from me,” really didn’t set the tone for what is an ongoing, twenty-four year journey of love, trust and Tivo, and definitely not in that order.

My wife and I have become inseparable, like two snow peas in a pod. She makes sure I’m balanced and rotated, like a good set of Michelin tires. I’m not sure she feels the same way, as the other day she quoted feminist Gloria Steinem, “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.” She then followed with this doozy from the former undercover Playboy Bunny, “The surest way to be alone is to get married.” I broke down and I cried. Hallmark couldn’t have said it any better.

After dropping off our daughter at school in the morning, we walk together on beautiful West Cliff Drive. It’s a magnificent way to start the day. She tells me about her hopes, dreams and aspirations, while my mind wonders about what I’ll be making for dinner that night. But through my nodding and inane comments she knows that I’m listening, a trait that is not easy for me, as my mind races faster than the earth rotates around Oprah. As she once told David Letterman, “When I look into the future, it’s so bright it burns my eyes.” And that’s why I wear sunglasses, because I’m finally getting the feeling that at this belated date, my future is ahead of me.

But stop the presses. Five minutes after I wrote the line about my brightening future, I had to remove my shades, as I received a phone call from a long time compatriot that put a damper on my previous statement. I found it somewhat ironic that less than 300 seconds after I had written the most optimistic sentence in my blogging career, I was suddenly no longer in that moment of joy and excitement. I was in a place that I had visited way too often in my life, where I didn’t need to make an appointment as it seemed they were expecting me. The future just ain’t what it used to be.

The situation brought to mind a scene from Woody Allen’s “Play I Again, Sam,” where he’s in a museum, attempting to pick up a woman who’s looking at a painting. Woody: That’s quite a lovely Jackson Pollock, isn’t it? Woman: Yes, it is. Woody: What does it say to you? Woman: It restates the negativeness of the universe. The hideous lonely emptiness of existence. Nothingness. The predicament of man forced to live in a barren, godless eternity like a tiny flame flickering in an immense void with nothing but waste, horror, and degradation, forming a useless, bleak straitjacket in a black, absurd cosmos. Woody: What are you doing Saturday night? Woman: Committing suicide. Woody: What about Friday night?

Life is so strange, but with all the good and bad, it’s really just how you perceive it between your two ears. It seems like every day I’m getting older. Pablo Picasso said it takes a long time to grow young. I don’t want to say I’m getting old, but the most exercise I get is looking for my glasses. I’ve already lived the lives of five golden retrievers. And yet I still want to chase that tennis ball.

However, for a young man in his 60’s, I’m great shape. Despite waking up to go to the bathroom 13,000 times a night, I’m always fresh and raring to go in the morning. I know I don’t get enough sleep, and perhaps that’s why I spend a good part of the day opening my mouth involuntarily while taking a long, deep breath of air. I believe the medical term is called yawning and is a result of stress, tiredness and extreme virility. Throw in the fact that I snore like a banchee and next to Lou Gehrig, my wife might be the luckiest man alive.

The most important thing for me is keeping my mind active and making sure my DVR is plugged in. That’s why week after week I pound away at this key board, like Mozart with a jump shot, trying to put together some words and sentences together that don’t violate the Volstead Act. And who knows what the future holds? I could be sitting on a gold mine. So stay tuned.

For today’s photo appetizer, I’m finishing what I started two weeks, ago, when I featured a gorgeous late January sunrise shot at Steamers Lane. The mid afternoon cloud action over the bay was incredible. Today’s photos are the second half of the daily double, which was the fabulous sunset I shot that same night.

I started out my photographic adventure at Stockton Avenue along West Cliff Drive, and then like Lewis and Clark without the services of Sacagawea, made my way up to Natural Bridges for the grand finale. Just a beautiful night from the winter of 2013 on Monterey Bay. Days like this is why God invented the sky.

No late night humor this week so I’m going with a few jokes. A guy is sitting at home when he hears a knock at the door. He opens the door and sees a snail on the porch. He picks up the snail and throws it as far as he can. Three years later, there’s a knock on the door. He opens it and sees the same snail. The snail says “What the hell was that all about?”

A guy enters a bar carrying an alligator. Says to the patrons, “Here’s a deal. I’ll open this alligator’s mouth and place my genitals inside. The gator will close his mouth for one minute, then open it, and I’ll remove my unit unscathed. If it works, everyone buys me drinks.” The crowd agrees. The guy drops his pants and puts his privates in the gator’s mouth. Gator closes mouth. After a minute, the guy grabs a beer bottle and bangs the gator on the top of its head. The gator opens wide, and he removes his genitals unscathed. Everyone buys him drinks. Then he says: “I’ll pay anyone $100 who’s willing to give it a try.” After a while, a hand goes up in the back of the bar. It’s a woman. “I’ll give it a try,” she says, “but you have to promise not to hit me on the head with the beer bottle.”

A newlywed couple moves into their new house. One day the husband comes home from work and his wife says, “Honey, you know, in the upstairs bathroom one of the pipes is leaking, could you fix it?” The husband says, “What do I look like, Mr. Plumber?” A few days go by, and he comes home from work and his wife says, “Honey, the car won’t start. I think it needs a new battery. Could you change it for me?” He says: “What do I look like, Mr. Goodwrench?” Another few days go by, and it’s raining pretty hard. The wife finds a leak in the roof. She says, “Honey, there’s a leak on the roof! Can you please fix it?” He says, “What do I look like, Bob Vila?” The next day the husband comes home, and the roof is fixed. So is the plumbing. So is the car. He asks his wife what happened. “Oh, I had a handyman come in and fix them,” she says. “Great! How much is that going to cost me?” he snarls. Wife says: “Nothing. He said he’d do it for free if I either baked him a cake or slept with him.” “Uh, well, what kind of cake did you make?” asks the husband. “What do I look like,” she says, “Betty Crocker?”

So that’s our first blast for June. We’ll catch you stepping up in the playoffs and showing NBA fans why you’re the best young center in the eastern conference. Aloha, mahalo and later, Roy Hibbert fans.

Good morning and greetings, late February fans. Well, time continues to fly by. Days, months, years, TV seasons just seem to go by faster and faster as I get older. Having children really gives you a sense of how quickly time goes. One day you’re pushing them on a swing, and then the next they’re pushing their lawyer to file emancipation papers. As writer Oscar Wilde noted, “Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes, they forgive them.” It’s statements like that which harken me back to my son’s first question, “Daddy, what’s a beneficiary?”

The reason I bring up the subject of time is that this post is my 365th. What this means is that once a day, over a period of time it takes for Oprah to orbit the sun, I have sat down on my computer, clicked the publish key, and voila, six photos and approximately 1,500 words have appeared on the screen due to my compliance. And I admit, when I first view the new post, it’s still a thrill, like striking out the last batter, hitting a game-winning jumper or figuring out how to add an attachment to my email.

So you might ask, Geoff, why do you continue to do it, why spend your precious time writing a somewhat humorous blog when you could be spending life’s precious moments on something more important, like trying to figure out how you ended up with all this free time in the first place. Well, that is something I don’t want to delve into, an underworld of thoughts that best remains buried as deep as the Oakland Raiders were in the final standings this year. Suffice to say that maybe God put me on his good green earth to spread a little cheer in a time of when we could certainly use a laugh, chuckle or a big tax return.

I can say with complete conviction that these words have brought joy to some, or one, as I had my mother write down her praise and had the document notarized. There’s an old Jewish proverb that says, “God couldn’t be everywhere, so he created mothers.” I thought that’s why he created TV. Or as the fabulous Phyllis Diller once said, “I want my children to have all the things I couldn’t afford. And then I want to move in with them.”

So now you might be wondering, (that is, if you’re still reading,) have I learned anything from these five plus years of posting a photo blog into cyber space, allowing the free world to experience the river of thoughts that circulate through my mind? Yes, I have. For one thing, the Pulitzer Prize committee is very picky. Two, it’s not that easy to bribe a Pulitzer judge. I guess that’s just the difference between me and four-time winner Robert Frost. As he said, “Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the less traveled, and that has made all the difference.” I did the same thing and just got lost.

I have also learned that I still love to write, and more specifically, rewrite. It always thrills me when I can make a joke just a little bit better, because let’s face it, writing this much for a Red Cross salary has to have some conjugal payback on the spiritual level. As a young man growing up, I loved the humor of Woody Allen. He was the man and that was my comic sensibility. Now, I’ve never considered marrying one of Mia Farrow’s adopted children, but in my earlier years people sometimes said I reminded them of the Woodman and that was the ultimate compliment. However, I quickly came back down to earth when one day I ran into former Democratic vice-presidential candidate Senator Lloyd Bentsen and the told me, “I know Woody Allen, and you’re no Woody Allen.”

So I continue to plug away at my arts and craft, with the hope that the beauty and humor from these pages makes the world a little better place. At the same time, and for purely for sociological purposes, I continue to extensively monitor the world of television in attempt to stay in shape by being well-rounded and tropical, which includes watching enough NBA basketball to bring down a herd of small elephants. And if you haven’t checked out the new show on FX, “The Americans,” about a KGB sleeper cell in America, you might want to take a gander. Or in the words of that Soviet party animal Nikita Khrushchev, “We will bury you,” a quote that I read on the wall inside the FBI building in Washington, D.C., when I visited there as a young diplomat. I’ll never forgot those words, which were accompanied by a hammer, sickle and shovel.

So I can’t say how long I will continue to bring you the best of what I see in the earth and sky, but I can guarantee this. As long as I have clear eyes, a full heart, my readers can’t lose. Sunrise Santa Cruz forever. Or at least through spring break.

So for today’s photo snack bar, we are heading back to the morning of December 28 at Lighthouse Point. Mornings like this is why I’m a sunrise photographer, when the sky just blows up with color and and I can stand along the edge of the continent and capture the incredible reflection on the Pacific Ocean. This fascination (some might say obsession) of capturing the morning magnificence started back in 2003, when I saw a photo from the late photographer Galen Rowell of a beautiful sunrise on a pond in northern California, with the reflection captured perfectly in the still water. I said to myself, “This is what I want to do,” and I’ve been doing it ever since. To paraphrase the Doobie Brothers, “What was once a vice is now a habit.”

On to some late night humor. “Former Chicago Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr. pled guilty to misusing hundreds of thousands of dollars of campaign funds for personal use, including buying a $43,000 Rolex watch. How ironic is that? All that money on a watch, and now he’s going to wind up doing time. You knew this was going to happen. Dozens and dozens of lawsuits have already been filed against Carnival Cruise Lines. Well, if you thought the ship was filthy, slimy, and disgusting, wait until these lawyers get involved. Over the weekend, President Obama played golf with Tiger Woods. Tiger Woods gave the president some very valuable tips. The most valuable one? Erase all of your text messages.” – Jay Leno

“I’ve got the latest Oscar buzz. Many Pakistanis are saying that Zero Dark Thirty contains factual errors. Then someone explained to the Pakistanis that being directed by a woman does not qualify as a factual error. A top food manufacturer is reporting that some of their pasta meals contain horse meat. So if I were you, I’d stay away from the ‘Rigatoni, My Little Pony.'” – Conan O’Brien “Lent officially began yesterday. Do you know what the Lakers are giving up for Lent? The playoffs.” – Jay Leno

“They’re going to miss Pope Benedict. He’s very underrated. This is the guy who wanted to replace Communion wafers with unlimited bread sticks. Pope Benedict is deaf in one ear. He’s deaf in one ear and also a little bit blind, but boy, he sure could play a mean pinball. It’s day five of that Carnival Cruise trip. You know you’re on a bad cruise if you wake up on day two, you look out your little porthole, and you see the captain and the crew in a lifeboat.” – David Letterman

“It’s a great day for the city of Los Angeles. We’ve become the first city to synchronize all of our traffic lights. This will make it easier to get downtown and watch the Lakers lose. It’s a great day for a bunch of thieves in Belgium. They got away with more than $50 million worth of pure, uncut diamonds. This diamond heist is the biggest robbery ever pulled off at an airport if you don’t count them charging $25 to check a bag. Most stores are open on Presidents Day. What better way to celebrate our presidents than by offering a sale on tires? Yes, four score and 20 years ago, our forefathers got two-for-one on steel-belted radials.” – Craig Ferguson

So that’s our last blast for February. Birthday wishes go out on Wednesday to my old Ivy League pal, Amy Zimmerman, who I believe is the only woman in America to watch “Silver Linings Playbook” three times in the same day.

We’ll catch you showing everyone that even in your mid-thirties, you’re as dangerous a scorer as you’ve ever been. Aloha, mahalo and later, Kobe Bryant fans.

Good morning and greetings, precipitation fans. Well, we finally got a little moisture here on the central coast, as a quick storm blew in last Monday and dropped about half inch of rain. I know that rainy days and Mondays always got Karen Carpenter down. When I asked Gregg Allman about it, he replied, “They call in stormy Monday, but Tuesday’s just as bad.” Unfortunately, I don’t agree with Gregg on this one, but then again, I’ve never been married to Cher.

By mid-February, Santa Cruz has usually received around 20 inches of rain. This year’s total is about 10 inches, which doesn’t have the ski resorts owners in Tahoe turning cartwheels. It’s been an extremely dry year and with no significant rain in the forecast, we’re stuck enjoying clear days and summer-like conditions. When I further queried Gregg Allman on the situation, he replied, “You’re my blue sky, you’re my sunny day. Lord knows it makes me high when you turn your love my way.” Hey, Gregg, let’s not get so personal. I was only asking about the weather.
So on that note, what do we really know about rain? And who doesn’t love it when it blows in and breaks up the sunny monotony? Well, on the moist note, here are some fun facts about our friend we know as liquid precipitation.

Rain starts off as ice, snow or Billy crystals at cloud level. Freezing rain is rain that freezes when it hits the ground; sleet is frozen ice pellets and purple rain never meant to cause you any sorrow. B.J Thomas claims that rain drops can travel down to earth at speeds of about 22 miles an hour, and 25 MPH in a school zone.

For those watching their weight, there’s light rain, which is classified at dropping no more than .10 inches an hour, while heavy rain falls at more than .30 an hour. When I asked the lovely Carly Simon about her thoughts on this subject, she claimed, “I haven’t got time for the rain.” Rain drops do not fall in the shape of a teardrop, they but fall in the shape of a flat oval. But as we know, “Too many tear drops for one heart to carry on means you’re going to cry ninety-six tears, you’re going to cry ninety-six years.”

Rain is recycled water that has evaporated from lakes, rivers, hot tubs, oceans, ponds, jacuzzis, streams, bayous and the orca tank at Sea World. Acid rain was first discovered by scientists at the Woodstock Music Festival. And believe it or not, the Statue of Liberty is turning green due to acid rain, as it is made out of copper and the acid dissolves the copper and discolors it. Which brings to mind an old Woody Allen quote, “My love life is terrible. The last time I was inside a woman was when I visited the Statue of Liberty.”

Now let’s play rain geography. Louisiana, which has Mardi Gras coming up this week, is the wettest state in the U.S, receiving an annual rainfall of 56 inches. Mount Waialeale, smack in the middle of the Garden Isle of Kauai, Hawaii, has approximately 350 rainy days every year, which has the ferns singing like the Pointer Sisters. The world’s heaviest average rain fall (about 430 inches) occurs in Cherrapunji, India, where as much as 87 feet of rain has fallen in one year. Yet the locals go about their lives singing, “Gray skies are going to clear up, put on a happy face.”

And finally, under the category of “I did not know that,” the umbrella was originally intended not to protect mankind from falling droplets, but to shade people from the hot sun. The word umbrella comes from the Latin word umbra, meaning keep your cranium dry. But who doesn’t love it when those rain drops keep fallin’ on our heads? I believe when it comes to precipitation, my feelings are summed up by Gene Kelly, who’s laughing at the clouds because the sun’s in his heart. “I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain. What a wonderful feeling, I’m happy again.”

So when it’s raining, I like to grab my camera and head up to the Arboretum at UC Santa Cruz, which is conveniently located just minutes from my westside abode. It has acres and acres of exotic plants and flowers, serves as a research and teaching facility as well as a cool hangout for hummingbirds and their friends. We’re talking wild and rare plants from Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, California and New Jersey that are difficult to find in your local yellow pages.

When I’m looking for photographic conditions for shooting plants, the wetter the better. The first three shots are from my most recent expidition while the second three are from any earlier journey to this oasis of exotic color and wonder. I love visiting there after a storm, which conjurs up the words of Woody Allen from the classic ‘Play It Again, Sam.’ “I love the rain – it washes memories off the sidewalk of life.”

On to the late night. Rick Santorum is hoping his three wins in the Republican primaries on Tuesday will postiion him as the conservative alternative to Mitt Romney. And I think that’s reflected in his new campaign slogan: the other white meat.” –Seth Meyers “Rick Santorum said women might not be suited for military action because their emotions aren’t suited forcombat. Which can mean only one thing: He’s never seen an episode of ‘The View.’” –Jimmy Fallon “Have you noticed Romney doesn’t even blow dry his hair anymore? He dries naturally from Rick Santorum breathing down his neck.” –Jay Leno

“It was a bad night for Newt Gingrich. In terms that Newt can understand, I think the voters told him they want to start seeing other candidates.” –Jay Leno “Newt Gingrich is trying to save his campaign by focusing only on areas where he has the most support. So he’s mostly focusing on Georgia, Tennessee, and the Cheesecake Factory.” –Conan O’Brien

“Mitt Romney said today that he learned something. There are things that money can’t buy — like Colorado, Minnesota, Missouri. “Romney’s campaign is in such bad shape, today he moved the part in his hair even further to the right.” –Jay Leno “Mitt Romney is trying hard to connect with voters. He seems like he’s too affluent. Romney was talking about his father’s humble beginnings as a carpenter. He said, ‘I’ll never forget the day my dad started building our fourth beach house.’” –Conan O’Brien

Birthday wishes on Wednesday go out to George Washington, Dr. J, Julius Erving and my brother Paul. Back in the late 70’s, Paul left the warm, cozy confines of our oceanfront home on West Cliff Drive to pursue his destiny in New York. I stayed behind and watched whales, pelicans and roller skaters cruise by along the cliff and prepare for this blog. He went on to become a CNN producer and sports anchor in Atlanta and the NBA ‘s Entertainment’s Director of Video Promotions while I counted clouds and watched the sun dip into the Pacific.

Now we are both raising teenagers, still marveling at the New York Giant’s playoff run and beyond amazed at the meteoric rise of Palo Alto’s Jeremy Lin. To coin the phrase my brother brought into the league’s venacular, “NBA action is fantastic.” So is it having a brother like him. And as Bob Hope says, “I grew up with six brothers. That’s how I learned to dance – waiting for the bathroom.

So that’s our Rainn Wilson report. Our final word on precipitation belongs to that smooth lefthander Jimi Hendrix, who said, “Rainy day, dream away, let the sun take a holiday.” And speaking of which, I was in a celebration mode on Saturday, when at age 59 years and 49 days, I had my best day on the basketball court since my wife bore us children. Hitting the three, spinning in the lane, throwing no-look passes, I was in the zone and on fire. And yes, there were witnesses.

This day was a blessing for me and my catch and shoot game. So maybe my future isn’t so far behind me. We’ll catch you exploding to the hoop. Aloha, mahalo and later, Russell Westbrook fans.