Good morning and greetings, high surf advisory fans. Well, if you like driving rain, gale force winds and giant waves smacking up against the coast, then last week was a good time to be on the central coast. It was invigorating walking on West Cliff last Thursday morning, as remnants of the previous day’s destruction was evident all along the path. I love being on the coast when a storm is raging. Or as author Alice M.Swain once remarked, “Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow.” I couldn’t describe my personna any better.

On Thursday’s sunrise, gorgeous red clouds appeared, which caught me by surprise as I thought there would be as much color in the sky as you’d see at a Tea Party clam bake. There was some disappointment about not capturing this morning glory, but when I called Peter Townshend, he said he had also missed it, but reassured me with his words “We won’t get fooled again.” I then thought to myself, “Who are you? Who, who, who, who?

So during storm watch Wednesday, I reunited with my old radio partner, Jerry Hoffman of 12 Sports Productions, and headed up to UC Santa Cruz to attend Media Day for the Santa Cruz Warriors. As a flower child of the 60′s, I’m still amazed that in 2012, Santa Cruz is the new home of a professional sports franchise. The only pro action I had previously seen in our little kelp-filled conclave was the Coldwater Classic down at Steamers Lane. Personally, I’m much more a fan of a warmwater classsic, due to shrinkage issues and the fact that it’s difficult to wipe out in a hot tub.

Anyway, getting back our new NBA Developmental League team, it got me to thinking about the pick and role that basketball has played in my life. My earliest memories are from grammar school, where we were once beaten by a score of 82-5 by a team that featured a sixth grader that went on to play in the NBA. My favorite memory from high school was the six days a week of basketball practice. My fondest thoughts from my college days at UCSC were playing basketball at the East Fieldhouse while doing research for my doctoral thesis on the importance of playing strong weakside defense.

After graduation, I took my game to Jade Street Park in Capitola, where running with my basketball buddies was always the highlight of the day. When I moved down to Hermosa Beach, you could catch me on the basketball courts in Manhattan Beach, a place where NBA players would sometimes show up and throw me around like a ragdoll. When I returned to Santa Cruz after a ten year stint in SoCal, the action was at Willlowbrook Park in Aptos, where I still practice my arts and what’s left of my craft on Saturday mornings.

Hoops also played a big role in my working life. While attending the University of Colorado, I had trouble with a statistics class that I ultimately had to drop because I had no idea what was going on. After graduating from UCSC, my brother Paul, who by this time was working for the NBA as Director of Video Promotions, helped me secure a job a a columnist for the league’s magazine “NBA Today,” in which I created a column called “Stats The Way It Is,” which detailed everything you ever wanted to know about NBA statistics and more. I’m not sure if that’s ironic, sardonic, and chronic, but it started me down the road to writing about my passion in life, pro hoops and men’s fashion.

Here’s a little side note. One night, when my son Jason was six or seven, we were watching a Laker game together, and he turned to me and said “Daddy, can I keep stats on Shaq and Kobe?” I was stunned, as had never mentioned my statistical past to him. I handed him a yellow pad and he went to town, tracking field goal attempts, free throws and how many Laker girls were natural blondes. At that moment, I knew there would never need to be a paternity test to determine if he was really mine, so that UPS driver down in Hermosa was finally off the hook.

I should also mention that playing basketball with my son while he was growing up was an incredible joy, as I never let him beat me. But as he got bigger, quicker and stronger and I was no longer able to stop him from scoring, I did what fathers have done throughout the ages and passed the torch. I stopped keeping score. This way, I could retire undefeated, because at that point, he was destroying me. In fact, he was so inspired by this transformation of events that he wrote one of his statement essays for his UC application on beating me like a drum the first time. The king was dead.

When I was a student at UCSC, my DJ brother and I did a Sunday night radio sports show on KZSC. This led to me interviewing Hall of Fame New York Post baskeball columnist Peter Vescey, who I later worked for as an indentured servant, staff writer and later co-writer on and off for decades. It also led to a brief stint working for NBC as a field producer for “Showtime,” where I was lucky enough to interview the likes of a Kevin Garnett, Scottie Pippen and Phil Jackson. Bottom line, I have been living and breathing NBA basketball for years, and having the Warriors come to town with their D-League team is just an added treat, like having Direct TV’s NBA League Pass beamed into my home in a non-HD format for the last 12 years.

One final basketball note. When I first met my wife Allison, she told me her father had Laker season tickets right off the floor at the Fabulous Forum in Inglewood. Despite the fact they were not actually courtside, this was not a deal breaker and it did not affect our budding relationship. In later years, when I asked her if she wanted to go to a game, she repeated the words her mother had told her father. “Call everyone you know, and if no one else can go, go alone.” Now you see why I married her.

For this week’s photo lineup, we are continuing the sunrise serenade, as on this late October morning I headed up to UCSC to shoot the action overlooking Pogonip. When I arrived, the fog was blowing through, taking away the pure color but adding drama to the moment. When the mist partially cleared, I started to shoot, and you can see the morning evolved into a beautiful experience, as the multi layers of color decorated the sky from the trees to the sea. Love those early bird specials.

On to a little late night. “President Obama and Mitt Romney met at the White House. I guess it was a closed event: There was no press allowed, there were no cameras, no recordings — to which Mitt Romney said, “I’m not falling for that one again.” – Jay Leno “Today Mitt Romney had lunch with President Obama. It was an awkward moment when the bill came and Obama only offered to pay 47 percent.” – Conan O’Brien

“Powerball officials say two people won the $580 million. Congratulations to the winners — Mitt and Ann Romney. President Obama had lunch with Mitt Romney. There was an awkward moment when Romney looked around and said, “So how much do you want for the place?” A prison inmate in Oregon who shot his own jaw off has demanded the state pay for his surgery. At least that’s what I think he said.” – Conan O’Brien.

So that’s our first blast for the new month. We’ll catch you leading your team to three Super Bowl championships while going down in history as one of the greatest and handsomest quarterbacks of all time. Aloha, mahalo and later, Tom Brady fans.

Good morning and greetings, Labor Day fans. The action really picked up last week during my morning walks along West Cliff, as a south swell hit the coast, bringing with it big waves, big rides and huge hopes that the dreary coastal fog might actually blow away before I start carving my vegan Thanksgiving turkey.

Personally, I don’t have anything against fog, which is defined as a gathering of water droplets that are partying in the air at the Earth’s surface. However, when it comes to pea soup, I prefer it in a cup instead of hovering along the coastline. Speaking for myself and I believe, a large percentage of sweatshirt-wearing folks on the central coast, now that it’s September, let’s hope the party is over.

But as we know, if it’s summertime, that means the Yankees and Red Sox will be going at it in the A.L East and a thick layer of home-grown coastal fog will be parked along Monterey Bay. In a story last month in the Santa Cruz Sentinel, writer Lily Drayton gave us the inside scoop of our moist summer friend that like some relatives and friends, just doesn’t know when to leave.

Fog plays a vital role in making sure that Monterey Bay lives up to its name on the beauty front. The fact that fog could disappear from the coast has caught the attention of scientists, waitresses and skimboarders, as these crystal droplets in the atmosphere play almost as an important role in our lives as my updated TiVo programming.

According to Emily Limm, the director of science at Save the Redwoods League, “what’s important about fog is timing — it occurs in the summer months when there is no rainfall in California.” The fog provides much-needed water to plants in a time of drought while keeping moisture in the ecosystem, much like putting a lid on an empty jar of Trader Joe’s Tomato Basil Marinara Sauce.

Fog thrives on the central coast because of the temperature difference between cool ocean water and warmer air. We get slammed here because Monterey Bay is a giant canyon, with deep cold water that is chillier than the look I got when I sauntered into my draft board back in 1970. When the summer breezes that gather over the Pacific hit the ice water in the Bay, the air chills and all of a sudden it’s condensation city and we’re
socked in.

For the folks that study fog for a living, the central coast is nirvana with a young Kurt Cobain. In the words of Daniel Fernandez of CSU Monterey Bay, “There is something almost magical about fog, as it’s variable and constantly changing. We have a great living laboratory for fog in Monterey along with a tremendous example of clam chowder in a bread bowl at Phil’s
Fish House in Moss Landing.”

Now there has been much talk about the depressing amount of this daily drizzle from this past August. According to the National Weather Service in Monterey, there were 24 days of fog in August 2010 and 25 in 2011. Now I will admit under oath that I was gone the first week of August. But according to my statistical estimations of my algorithmic calculations, there were two sunny mornings last month, which means it was one depressingly foggy month for beach goers. To this mild-annered reporter for a great metropolitan blog, it seems like it has been getting foggier every year. But lo and behold, this is not the case.

According to Professor Todd Dawson of UC Berkeley, word on the street and a recent study shows that coastal fog in California has declined since the 1950’s. Over the last 60 years, the fog and my hopes and dreams have dropped by more that 30 percent. Dawson says because the air temperatures are warming up, so are the oceans, and if that warm air is not hitting the cool ocean, then we’re not fogged in, we’re fogged out. But as the boys from Foghat would say, “Slow ride, take it easy.”

Moving along on the fog front, for you tree lovers, the redwoods gather 30 to 40 percent of their moisture from coastal fog. They are more dependent on this moisture than my parents are on me, who expect a gourmet dinner delivered every night from yours truly. And as Dawson adds ,”Redwoods trees wouldn’t achieve their great heights if they didn’t have the boost of a fog bank every summer.” And size does matter. But remember, only God can make a tree. And only you can prevent forest fires. And Forest Whitaker.

On today’s photo laugh track, we are not featuring fog, but instead some scenes that would be emotionally available to us if the coast weren’t socked in every morning like a wet gray blanket. We return to Kauai as the first two shots are a sunrise taken on the north shore skies above Hanalei. Next comes sunset on lovely Hanalei Bay. Photo credits go to my gluten-free brother Brad, who is chomping at the bit to be dropped off on top of a glacier in Alaska next winter so he can go heli-snowboarding down it. I was planning on going with him but recent blood tests revealed that I’m allergic to terror and prone to night sweats when I’m within 100 yards of a large persistent body of ice.

The final two shots are from a August sunrise over Poipu Beach on the south shore of the Garden Isle. And since I don’t want you to go completely cold turkey without some info from Hawaii, here’s a news flash. The future island of Loihi is being created 20 miles southeast of the Big Island. It’s still about 3,200 feet below the surface of the ocean, so hotel rooms, tropical lauas and sunset catamaran cruises are still available at bargain prices. Stay tuned for more details and savings coupons.

On to the late night. “Dick ‘Kaboom’ Cheney has written a book, and he says he wouldn’t change anything. He feels strongly about this. He’d still invade the wrong country.” –David Letterman “Dick Cheney’s new memoir contains some startling surprises. For example, he is still alive.” –Jay Leno

“Gadhafi is apparently on the run, though today he released a message congratulating Beyonce on her pregnancy. “Moammar Gadhafi had escape tunnels, gold plumbing fixtures, and pictures of Condoleezza Rice. It’s like I have a twin.” –David Letterman

“President Obama’s popularity is slipping while he’s on vacation. When he went for a walk on the beach, the tide went out.” –David Letterman “President Obama’s uncle has been arrested on suspicion of drunk driving. “How sad is it for the uncle? He got thrown in jail and the only relative he could call for bail money is $14 trillion in debt.” –Jay Leno

“Our thoughts go out to everyone on the East Coast waiting for Hurricane Irene. In Washington, D.C., thousands of people have been left without power. They’re called Democrats.” –Craig Ferguson “John McCain turned 75 today. He thought Hurricane Irene was a flapper he had a crush on in the ’20s. On Friday the world’s oldest woman celebrated her 115th birthday in Georgia. John McCain said, ‘Irene!?’” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s my first jolt for the month of September. So enjoy what I hope will someday be the beginning of Indian summer, U.S Open Tennis and the start of the NFL season. And of course, the 90 minute season premier of the “Sons of Anarachy” on Tuesday. That’s feel-good TV at its best. We’ll catch you coming off the mound. Aloha, mahalo and later, Ivan Nova fans.

Good morning, December fans and welcome to my 150th post, or blog for you sports fans. A beautiful sunset graced the skies above Monterey Bay on Saturday night (a friend described it as “endless”) but unfortunately yours truly missed it as I was vacationing in lovely Pescadero at the time. I was going to go with an array of sea anenomes for today’s photo display but decided that it has been too long since we’ve seen any arch action from Its Beach. But don’t despair friends and anenomes fans, they are on the way.

I love Its Beach. Before it was closed off to Swedish tourists and dogs, (much to the dismay of my golden retriever Summer) I would visit this spot eight days a week. I love shooting around the arch if for no other reason than, much like my outside shot, it will not be around forever. The constant wind and waves bring on the erosion that is always changing the look of the coast. Just like Natural Bridges once had three arches there is now one. And as Three Dog Night says, “One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever do.” I always feel that when I’m shooting at Its I’m not just capturing the moment but also documenting history.

The first shot is the initial photo I took at low tide with the view of the lighthouse through the arch. This was taken at around 10:30 in the morning. The next shot was taken on a late fall afternoon at the golden hour. Shot #3 was taken from the other side of the arch looking west. I caught a perfect reflection as the water was as still as the brain waves patterns coming from the oval office. The next shot features the beautiful aqua color in the pool of water beneath the arch. I have hundreds of shots of this arch as the rock and water change color with the sky, clouds and price of oil.

The arch is covered with all types of sea life that we’ll check out later in the month. While shooting the fifth shot I was waist deep in water which was helpful since my wallet and cell phone were still in my pocket. But I loved the look of the white water, the clouds and the fog so I didn’t mind getting a little moist. If you look really closely you can see a chain of pelicans and a UFO flying by in the far right hand corner. The final shot shows the contrast between a blue and gray sky day. And you know what they say, “Gray skies are gonna to clear up. Put on a happy face.”

On to some comedy. Today’s segment once again courtesy of Jay Leno. And this joke I can really relate to. “The economy is bad these days. How bad is it? The airlines are now charging $15 bucks for each of the bags under your eyes.” Now readers of this blog know that I’m a New York Giants fan, despite yesterday’s pathetic performance in a loss to the Philadelphia Eagles. “As you know, Giant’s superstar receiver Plaxico Burress was arrested last week after his unlicensed firearm went off in his pants at a nightclub. Mayor Bloomberg wants to throw the book at him. Today he was given a choice. Either 3 years in prison or he has to play for the Detroit Lions.” And finally, “Hookers in New York are getting very creative with the economic crisis. They are now offering the Plaxico Burress special. For $100 bucks, they’ll make the gun go off in your pants.”

That’s the Monday experience. Coming up on our next blog I’ll be showcasing a sunrise that you’ll want to tell your friends, neighbors and pet sitters about. The reason I missed Saturday’s spectacular sunset was because I was attending my freshman son’s basketball tournament in Pescadero (who even knew that had a high school?) Jason’s varsity PCS team took third place as my point-guard playing son had 12 points, 9 assists, 9 steals and 3 blocked shots in the final game to earn all-tournament honors. It just goes to show that if you nurture your child, build their self-esteem and feed them the right combination of chewable steroids that the triple-double sky is the limit. So enjoy the arch and Veronica and we’ll catch on the goal line. Aloha, mahalo and later, Derrick Rose fans.