Good morning and greetings, landscape fans. You know, it’s not easy being a sunrise photographer. It requires a strong commitment and immense dedication, as one must be ready to go to work close to one third of the year. It’s an unusual situation when your work day comes to an end before most people have separated themselves from their dreams.

It was Hindu Prince Gautama Siddharta, known to his friends as Buddha, who said, “Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart and soul’s inspiration give yourself to it.” Wise words from the holy sage, who was also a hell of a first baseman.

So in living the sunrise life, four months of the year become sacred times, when there’s the possibility of the sky lighting up like a Hanukah menorah. The early Aztecs said, right before they were massacred by the Conquistadors, “if you do something you love, then it’s not work.” Furthermore, Irish poet Oscar Wilde once quoted between sips that “I put all my genius into my life: I put only my talent into my works.” After consulting with Confucious, I still have no idea where he was going with that.

I don’t consider taking pictures of a sunrise, sunset or a baby porcupine hard work. It’s a labor of love having the privilege to photograph God’s magnificence. That is, when he isn’t slamming the coast with that damn marine layer. To shoot a good sunrise takes some preplanning, a little bit of luck, and most importantly, a camera which a charged battery.

Donald Kendall, the former CEO of Pepsi Cola, once said to his neighbor that “The only place where success comes before work is in the dictionary.” I can relate to those words, as there have been a few times in my life that I have decided to take the Pepsi Challenge. Later on, I regretted some of these actions. I would have been much better off sitting back and having a Coke and a smile.

So this being late April, I’ve been slowly weened from photographing the delightful action from above, as the spring skies have been duller than a Taliban group therapy session. I didn’t get into this business for the money, as much like Henny Youngman, “I’ve got all the money I’ll ever need, if I die by four o’clock.” No, photographing sunrises and sunsets has been like the gift that keeps on giving. I’ve never thought of it as work. Which is good, because who wants to let something so pure be tainted by money? I’ve never got caught up in the commercialization, which is why I would never mention that my photos are available for sale right now on my website, www.SunriseSantaCruz.com, and would make lovely Mother’s Day gifts. That would be way too tacky.

No, I just do it for the pure joy and the artistic integrity. I’m not competing with anyone, although my Rabbi has stated on the record that I could be the most prolific sunrise photographer in the country. Well, I’m not saying I am, (yes, I am), but I would be honored to just be considered a candidate for the Jewish sunrise photographers Hall of Fame. And from what I hear, entry into this exclusive club involves receiving is a five pack box of Yehuda Passover matzos, rated #1 best tasting matzo by the San Francisco Chronicle, as tested by culinary experts and chefs in a blind tasting panel. If that’s the case, how did they find their way to the building?

So these days, I’m just photographing flowers and bunnies and filling future blogs will glorious moments from the past. They say you can’t put your arm around a memory, but when I go to my computer and look over sunrises and sunsets past, I reexperience the joy of the moment and it is glorious. And then I sob uncontrollably for a while, but I’m working on that.

I love what I do and don’t believe it will ever get old. And the best part is there no deadlines, just headlines. In the words of ventroloquist Edgar Bergen, “Hard work never killed anybody, but why take a chance?” Charlie McCarthy couldn’t have said it better, although I was always more of a Knucklehead Smith fan.

So for today’s photo fare, we are heading back to the morning of February 16, 2013. I had slept the night before in a toaster, so I woke up and popped out of bed to a fantastic sunrise. I was all over the terrain that morning, as I shot images of this dawn beauty from more locations than Jamba Juices on the central coast.

The morning color in the sky over Monterey Bay and Steamers Lane was just spectacular. This was one of those classic Santa Cruz mornings were everything was right in the digital world. After that my day was off and running.

So this is my philosophy. “Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or be killed. Every morning a lion wakes up. I knows it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death. It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or gazelle…when this sun comes up, you better be running.” Or as big game hunter Groucho Marx once told Zeppo, “One morning I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How he got into my pajamas I’ll never know.”

On to some late night humor. “U.S. intelligence agencies have put together a psychological profile of Kim Jong Un. They say he’s a narcissist, and he is obsessed with Hollywood, obsessed with plastic surgery, and obsessed with the NBA. It’s a condition we know as ‘Kardashianism.’” –Jay Leno “You’re probably saying to yourselves, “What big American pointless cultural event is coming up in a couple of days?” The NFL Draft, of course. The New York Jets say they will take the best athlete possible in the draft. They’re going to take the best athlete available. It’s the same strategy the Kardashian sisters use.” – David Letterman

“You know what the worst job in America is? It’s newspaper reporter. I guess the pollsters forgot to ask the guy who cleans the toilets at Dodger Stadium how things are going for him. The Internet celebrated a major milestone yesterday. It’s the eighth anniversary of the very first video uploaded to YouTube. YouTube was founded in 2005 by a small group of visionaries who asked the question, “What if nobody in America ever got anything done ever again?” – Jimmy Kimmel.

So that’s our last blast for April 2013. The roses are exploding in my front yard so get ready for some May flower power. We’ll catch you scoring 34 points on Saturday while putting on one of the greatest fourth quarter playoff performances in NBA history. Aloha, mahalo and later, Nate Robinson fans.

Good morning and greetings, daylight saving time fans. I think most of us enjoy the light later in the day, as now I don’t hop into my pajamas till at least 8 pm. Light is a very simple concept, although Thomas Edison failed 10,000 times before he invented the light bulb. Ellen DeGeneres summed up the situation for all of us when she said, “In the beginning, there was nothing, God said, “Let there be light!” And there was light. There was still nothing, but you could see it a whole lot better.”

As many of you know, I’m very much into sports, although most of my exercise these days come from dragging my heels, pushing my luck and jumping to conclusions. And I’m talking all the sports, including football, baseball, basketball, volleyball, snowshoeing, knock hockey, bass fishing, skeet shooting, ping pong, synchronized swimming, jai alai, bird watching, dog sledding, sky diving, bull fighting, jump roping, log rolling and darts. And that’s just what I’m into on weekdays.

But there is one sport that I’ve never really gotten into, and that would be cricket. For some reason, this bat-and-ball game never really captured my fancy, unlike canoeing, jump roping or my favorite, body building. But for sports fans in many countries, cricket is right up there on the top of the menu, and that’s where we’re headed today.

In a story written by Frank Elaridi for ABC News, a Salt Lake City food company has a new line of energy bars that have people chirping because of their unique ingredients. The company, named Chapul, perhaps because that’s where you might want to go after eating one of their products, has an energy bar that includes, coconut, ginger, lime, and you guess it, crickets.

A chart on their website shows that both cows and insects are 57 percent protein, but cows are 43 percent fats, while insects are just 22 percent fats. No word on centipedes, arachnids, or Arby’s new roast beef sandwich.

According to Chapul founder Pat Crowley, ” What this basically means is that insects have similar protein contents to livestock, but are healthier because they have less fat. We thought the people who would be most receptive are environmentally conscious people who already eat healthy products and energy bars and who wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Insect diets are common in many countries but not in the United States and Europe. That is because many Americans have ants in their pants.

Crowley wants to introduce insects into American cuisine, but there is a psychological barrier that Americans have about eating insects because it isn’t part of the culture. That is, unless you go bike riding with your mouth open. He wants to introduce insects into the American diet by using ingredients like chocolate and peanut butter, the way sushi was introduced into American cuisine with the California Roll. Holy Jiminy Cricket! For some reason, this really bugs me.

According to Steven R. Kutcher, an entomologist based in Arcadia, California, there are insects in almost everything Americans already eat. Hey, the FDA allows up to 450 insect fragments in every one-pound box of pasta. The average American consumes about 20 pounds of noodles every year, so you crunch the numbers. It’s like the old joke, ‘Waiter, what’s that fly doing in my soup? Don’t worry, the spider on the bread will get him soon enough.”

“When you eat rice, flour, beans, there are going to be insects in them, but people don’t see them,” Kutcher said. “So that’s always been part of the human diet, especially before there was processed food.” Kutcher says although insects are high in protein while low in sodium and contain no trans fats, there is one negative aspect to snacking on them.

“The downside is, with something like crickets, they have spines, claws and exoskeletons made from chitin and it’s not digestible, so it goes right through you,” Kutcher says. “When you eat crab or lobster, you don’t eat the whole thing, you take off the shell. With something like crickets, you can’t remove the chitin.” No chit?

Chapul grinds the crickets into a flour in its bars so there are no legs, claws or antennae present, which makes for good eating but bad reception. When they are ground up that way, the chitin is still not digestible, but consumers don’t have the problems that come from eating all the body parts and they still get all the nutrients. So this way they have a leg up on the competition.

So what do crickets taste like? Seafood, veal chops, Doritos Loco Tacos? “It’s not quite like chicken,” Crowley says. “It has an earthy taste like sunflower seeds. The insects are pretty mild tasting, so it tastes like whatever you flavor it with. It’s like popcorn, if you flavor it with butter, it taste like butter.” Waiter, I’ll have the fried rice, shrimp and broccoli and the crickets in black bean sauce.

The esteemed TV star, Dr. Oz says that chitin in its ground form is a fat blocker and good for one’s health. That may be all good and well, but I’ve always preferred Beatles on a CD, not as a side dish. As I fumigate the thought of insect ingestion through my mind, I get butterflies in my stomach. If we’re going to start eating what’s crawling, hopping and buzzing around us, we’re heading down a new frontier on the culinary highway. Well, either way, I think I’ve finally figured out why those mantises have been praying about all these years.

Now I have a confession. I previously said that this year’s sunrise and sunset season ,much like my infatuation with Kim Jong Un’s new wife, was pretty much over. This was based on the fact that in the past, there has been less action in the sky in March than visa requests to visit North Korea. But I was wrong, as there was a spectacular sunset Thursday night, a gorgeous sunrise Friday morning followed by another pretty sunset that evening. I don’t know if it was the result of global warming or my digital karma, but I managed to photograph a couple of these events. In the words of the singer Meat Loaf, who I happen to love with mashed potatoes, “Two out of three ain’t bad.”

For Friday’s sunrise, I started shooting from the cliffs above Cowells Beach, before moving over the Steamers Lane to capture the sun rising over the water and the mountains of Monterey. But the favorite photographic moments came when I moved onto Bird Rock along West Cliff Drive, and I was able to capture the sun rising through the trees, which was almost as exciting as the NBA action on Friday night. It was some unexpected late winter beauty, and I savored it like last week’s episode of “Justified” on FX, but without the TV MALV rating for language, violence and thank goodness, no nudity.

On to some late night humor. “The big news is the new Pope. His name is Jorge Mario Bergoglio. If you’re saying to yourself, “Boy, that name sounds familiar,” you’re right. For seven years he was the ace reliever for the Yankees. With the selection process going on for the new Pope, there’s a lot of papal trivial. For example, did you know that no Pope has ever in the history of the church been elected without carrying Ohio? The cardinals each write down their choice on a small slip of paper and put in a silver chalice and then they mix all the names up and they’re drawn out. It’s the same thing they do for the Vatican’s Secret Santa.” – David Letterman

“In accordance with Vatican tradition, the cardinals in the papal conclave will release white smoke when a Pope is chosen. The practice was started by those two ancient leaders, Cardinal Cheech and Cardinal Chong.” – Jimmy Fallon “After tours of the White House were canceled due to budget cuts, Donald Trump offered to pay for them. All he’s asking is they rename it the Trump White House and Casino.” – Conan O’Brien “Mayor Bloomberg tried to ban giant 16-ounce sugary sodas and a judge overturned the ruling. And I said, “Thank God I don’t have to drive to Canada to get my Mountain Dew anymore.”- David Letterman

“Thanks to daylight saving time, we lost an hour this weekend. If you’re watching this show, you’re about to lose another hour. Everyone is talking about is these Google glasses. People are already worried about radiation from cellphones. So why not make a device that you can put next to your eyes all day?” – Craig Ferguson “According to reports, Saudi Arabia is considering dropping public beheadings because of a shortage of government swordsmen. You don’t want amateurs to cut people’s heads off because that could be barbaric.” – Jay Leno

So that’s our last blast for winter. Birthdays wishes go out on Wednesday to my esteemed writer/editor/deluxe dessert making pal Martha Lawrence, who’s one of the few people in the continental U.S. who never mistakes Encinitas for Escondido.

We’ll catch you streaking up and down the court while running the show for the hottest team in the NBA west. Aloha, mahalo and later, Ty Lawson 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, February fans. Well, last week brought violent weather to parts of the nation, as wild temperature extremes set off deadly thunderstorms and tornadoes, causing major damage and severe power outages. At the same time, Floridians were enjoying picture perfect weather, but it was not rosy for all in the Sunshine State, as Miami’s Hall of Fame quarterback Dan Marino admitted on his 28th wedding anniversary that he had fathered a secret love child and paid millions to keep it quiet. And all this time I thought not winning a Super Bowl was his biggest problem.

It brought to mind the words of Rodney Dangerfield, “I’ll tell ya, I’m alright now but last week I was in rough shape. I mean, last week I looked up my family tree – I found out I’m the sap. My wife said she was afraid of the dark. Then she saw me naked and now she’s afraid of the light. She made me join a bridge club. I jump off next Tuesday.”

So all the talk last week was of Super Sunday, as I was peppered with questions like Lindsay Lohan at her latest bail hearing. Where are you going to watch the game? Are you rooting for the 49ers or will you be rooting against them because you’re still bitter from the Giants blowing a three-game lead and not making the playoffs? Do I care if Joe Montana’s hair is going to be straight or curly? What color Gatorade will be dumped on Beyonce? And most importantly, what will the Dow Jones and my stomach be doing the next day?

With all this football talk filling the atmosphere, that according to Al Gore, “We put an extra 90 million tons of heat-trapping pollution into every day, as if it’s an open sewer,” the sun still managed to rise and set. Last Monday and Tuesday were a digital pleasure, as on both days I went for the photo daily double, shooting both the sunrise and sunset. Monday’s sunrise was beautiful and the sunset was pleasingly pleasant, but then on Tuesday morning all bells and sirens went off because as soon as I woke up, I was on red alert. I’ll get back to discussing Al Gore’s views on why the oceans are warming, the Arctic caps are melting, along with his sale of his television network to some guy named Al Jazerra as soon as Tipper tweets me back.

I had slept a little later than usual on Tuesday, as I had to finish off another disconcerting dream of being in school but not having gone to class with exams coming up. But it was still a solid week on the dream front, as in one of the more interesting ones, I was a cop and my partner was Rob Lowe. Over the years I’ve had conversations and adventures during my subconcious atoning with Howard Stern, Mel Brooks, David Letterman, Jerry Seinfeld, Lola Falana and a cast of thousands, along with half my high school class.

But that’s another story for another time, but suffice to say that I’m doing a lot more partying on my subconcious time card than during my waking hours. But I always dress impeccably for bedtime, for as my wardrobe consultant once told me, “Be careful what you wear to bed at night, because you never know who you’ll meet in your dreams.”

I believe it was either Larry Bird, Magic Johnson or Jason Gilbert who said they were always out there practicing because they knew there was someone else out there working just as hard to be the best. I’m putting in the time when I’m asleep. If just wish I had a DVD to record these middle of the night cranial wanderings because I’d be up for an subconcious Emmy.

Anyway, back to Super Tuesday. I woke to a red sky over Monterey Bay, so I put on my Kool and the Gang poncho and headed for the coast. I wanted to capture the crimson reflection on the sand at Its Beach, but time wouldn’t let me, so I stopped at Fair Avenue to photograph the initial colors of the morning’s brilliance on the bay.

Next I went into silhouette mode, as I shot my favorite cypress tree with the sky blowing up behind it. Then, as the sky moved into a mandarin orange mode, I cruised down to Lighthouse Point to take in the full on magnificence of the morning experience. At the same time, the moon was setting as the sky cast about a pink carnation of color along the sand at Its Beach.

I then completed my photographic journey with a shot taken at Steamers Lane just before the sun made an appearance. It was a spectacular, world-class sunrise over the Pacific that I was thrilled to be a part of. And as a bonus, that night the sky caught on fire at sunset, which made my dinner of vegan veal parmesan and honey cake that much more festive.

On to the late night. “Former Miami Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino has admitted he fathered a child while having an extramarital affair with a CBS production assistant. And today Manti Te’o said, “See, that’s why you have imaginary girlfriends.” Zimbabwe’s finance minister revealed yesterday that his country has only $217 left in the government Treasury. Today President Obama said, “Stop bragging!” – Jay Leno “A new show premiered tonight on the FX network called “The Americans.” It’s about Russian spies embedded in Washington, D.C., during the Cold War.The first episode was great. Their mission was to fake a drivers license for a young socialist Kenyan boy living in Hawaii.” – Craig Ferguson

“Former NFL quarterback Dan Marino has admitted to fathering a secret child back in 2005. I don’t know why people are surprised — the Dolphins never gave him good protection. A bipartisan group of senators has unveiled a plan that would create a path to citizenship for illegal immigrants. Or as immigrants call that, “a tunnel.” An employee of the U.S. Postal Service is retiring after 44 years without using any of her sick days. Friends describe her as “dedicated,” while co-workers describe her as “that lady who gave me the flu.” Last week Iran launched a monkey into space, and it actually returned to Earth alive. It was great news for the space program and terrible news for the monkey who thought he’d finally gotten out of Iran. – Jimmy Fallon

“The Boy Scouts of America is now considering an end to its longstanding policy of banning gay scouts. How about that? And the girl scouts have a new policy during cookie season. It’s called “Don’t ask, just sell.” In a big meeting of the Republican National Committee, Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal told the GOP to “stop being the stupid party.” Then Texas Governor Rick Perry gave the rebuttal. Women can now serve on the front lines in combat. I believe up until now, the only woman who had ever seen action under a general was Paula Broadwell.” –Jay Leno “Women serving in the United States military will now be serving in combat. Finally there will be somebody in the tank who will stop and ask for directions.” – David Letterman

So that’s our first blast for the shortest month of the year. We’ll catch you showing NFL fans how you led your team to a stunning Super Bowl win. Aloha, mahao and later, Joe Flacco fans.

Good morning and greetings, Super Bowl fans. Well, we’re less than a week away from when much of the nation turns their attention towards two teams beating the living daylight savings time out of each for the right to call themselves Super Bowl champions. Or as former Oakland Raider defensive end Dan Birdwell described the action, “You just have to play this game like somebody hit your mother with a two-by-four.”

At the same time, we know there’s two good reasons why people of every race, greed and color are converging on New Orleans. To party and gamble. And as a result, after football fans consume 140,500 millions tons of chips, 80 million pounds of guacamole, 900 million pounds of chicken wings and enough pizzas to cover the entire planet, hundreds of millions of dollars will have been won or lost on the outcome while the nation’s caloric intake will surpass the $16.432 trillion federal deficit mark. Because that’s how we roll.

For myself, I’ll spend the morning in deep meditation, and then just kick back and watch the action accompanied by with my usual array of healthy snacks, including animal crackers, tofu nuggets and fava bean pate. And if I win my wager on how long it will take Alicia Keys to belt out the national anthem, I’ll treat myself to a vegan steak and lobster dinner. Gluten-free, of course.

But really, it’s just another game. Someone will win, someone will lose, and the next day we’ll all be talking about Kate Upton and the commercials. Or in the words of former Dallas running back Duane Thomas, “If it’s the ultimate game, how come they’re playing it again next year?”

One place I would like to experience watching the Super Bowl is Hawaii, and that is where we are headed today. In a story by Stephanie Pappas for Yahoo News, there have been some unusual sightings on the beaches in Oahu and Kauai, and I don’t mean Charo in a bikini. No, we’re talking about refrigerators, oyster buoys and a four box set of the TV mini-series “Shogun” that have been rolling in with the tides and beaching themselves on the macadamia nut covered shores.

According to Richard Chamberlain, these items were from the giant tsunami that struck Japan back on March 11, 2011. The Japanese government has estimated that the tsunami, which was triggered by an underwater earthquake, swept about five million tons of debris out to sea. While 70 percent appears to have sunk offshore, the rest is floating like rubber ducks in the Pacific Ocean. The first item to make an appearance was a barnacled-covered seafood storage bin, which arrived last September and was last seen body surfing at Pipeline.

Hawaii is a prime gathering spot for big wave surfers and floating garbage, as the islands are exposed to ocean currents on every side. Some of this ocean litter comes from the fishing industry, while the rest is consumer garbage including soda bottles, toys, plastic goods and adult novelty items. The tsunami debris will be an ongoing problem, but it’s part of a much bigger issue, as Hawaii is inundated with plastic trash from all over the world. Or in the words of Groucho Marx, “She got her good looks from her father. He’s a plastic surgeon.”

This island paradise in the South Pacific has as its neighbor the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a shameful site in the North Pacific Ocean where currents push masses of plastics into a suspended pyre of trash, like sections of North Hollywood. Now I only play a scientist in this blog, but I can tell you, this is no way to treat an ocean. I believe it was either David Hasselfhoff or Jacques Cousteau who once said, “The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.” And remember, no one ever drowned on ‘Baywatch.’

Henry David Thoreau said, “My life is like a stroll on the beach…as near to the edge as I can go.” I say, “I love going to the beach, but not being in water over my head.” It seems in the near future, when Hawaiians go to the beach, they’ll be greeted by more than golden sands and shrimp trucks. It’s kind of like a Cracker Jacks experience, a surprise in every wave.

However, Hawaii is still the land of fragrant plumerias, golden papayas and kalua pig wraps. Wherever I go, I carry the aloha spirit with me. There’s just a special feeling in the islands that blows through my mind like a warm trade wind. When on vacations, when I check out of my hotel room, I always try to give back and tell the front desk, “He lumi maika’i keia e ku pololei ana i ke kanaka peke.” That was a wonderful room for a dwarf. Mahalo and good night.

For today’s photo gallery we are headed back to November 15, 2012, a couple of months after the death of Manti Te’o non-existent girlfriend. I was shooting from above the cliffs at Cowells Beach. The clouds were in an unusual formation, creating an interesting canvas of color in the sky. I then proceeded to catch the sun rising over the mountains of Monterey as its beams shot out over the bay. Variety is the spice of life, and these clouds added some quality thyme and a nice dash of paprika to this early morning exercise of beauty in the sky with diamonds.

On to some late night. “It was reported that President Obama’s 2013 Inauguration Committee is receiving fewer donations than it did in 2009. The scaled-back event will feature fewer inaugural balls, a shorter parade, and a musical performance from the Black Eyed Pea. During an interview with Oprah Winfrey Thursday, Lance Armstrong admitted to using banned drugs and blood transfusions to get his seven Tour De France victories. Which explains why, during his last two races, he didn’t even need a bike. Firearms groups across the country have declared today the first annual Gun Appreciation Day. So don’t forget to set your clock back 100 years.” –Seth Meyers

“The NRA made an ad saying that Obama is elitist because his kids have armed guards. Yeah, that crazy Obama thinking his kids need special protection. I love the NRA accusing anyone of being paranoid. It’s like a septic tank saying, ‘You need a mint.’” –Bill Maher “The CEO of Whole Foods is criticizing Obamacare, once again calling it fascism. He did this before when he called it socialism. And he said the problem with socialism is eventually you run out of other people’s money. As opposed to shopping at Whole Foods, where you eventually run out of your own money. “The post office may sue Lance Armstrong for all of the money they spent sponsoring his team. In fact, after all these lawsuits, they say that Lance Armstrong could end up as broke as the post office.” –Jay Leno

“More than a million people gathered in our nation’s capital yesterday, and tens of millions more watched from home to celebrate the first lady’s new haircut.
Most people seem to like the hair style, though some Republicans are demanding further cuts. But bangs aren’t easy to pull off. As far as I know, the only other women who have done it successfully this decade are Jessica Biel and Justin Bieber.” –Jimmy Kimmel

So that’s our pre Super Bowl report. Enjoy the game and take a moment to remember the troops, who are fighting for us so that we can live in a country where anyone can grow up and one day host a Super Bowl party.

We’ll catch you putting up all-star numbers and being the best shooter in the NBA. Aloha, mahalo and later, Stephen Curry fans.

Good morning and greetings, NFL playoff fans. Well, since the start of the new year, I’ve been busy as a beaver, building dams and shooting away with my new Canon T3i. And right now we’re in the midst of the classic sunrise and sunset season here on the central coast, which lasts about as long as this year’s NHL regular season. Or as Chris Rock noted about this form of Canadian disorderly conduct, “Black people dominate sports in the United States – 20 percent of the population and 90 percent of the Final Four. We own this sh**. Basketball, baseball, football, golf, tennis, and as soon as they make a heated hockey rink we’ll take that sh** too.” Hey, we all have to have goals.

So the the mornings have been a bit chilly, with the air cold and rice crispy, as the clouds have been lighting up on a regular basis like fans at a Snoop Dogg concert.

Last week was a particularly good one on the sunrise front, as Monday through Thursday mornings brought great color and pageantry to the skies above Monterey Bay. Friday was a clear as my sinuses. I’ll be showcasing a couple of those in later posts. I would feature all of them, but even at this advanced stage of digital servitude, I still manage to miscalculate these mornings of glory for reasons unknown to this photographer and his therapist.

But despite my whirlwind schedule, I still manage to set aside some time during the day (every half hour) to reflect upon missed photo ops that I would have shared because I’m a serial giver. And even though I’m younger today than I’ll ever be, as I wait for my ship to come in, I somehow keep missing a few of the cabin cruisers.

Right now, I know you might be thinking, “Geoff, we’ve heard this all before. Just breathe and let it go.” Hey, that’s easy for you to say. I’ve got a destiny and paragraphs to fulfill.

But that’s the beauty of life. You pick out your clothes and then wait nine months for the sunrise season, and then because you didn’t see where algebra would fit into your life, you suffer disappointments. I’ve already photographed enough spectacular sunrises to qualify for the senior tour. But there were some hot pink clouds that filled the sky last week that I would like to have added to the scrapbook. So that’s why I reflect back to what coach Kyle Chandler of “Friday Night Lights” fame told his team. “Opportunity does not knock, it presents itself when you beat down the door.” I heard fame knocking, but I wouldn’t let it in.

Now I realize that what I’m reflecting on is not earth shaking news, like the Berlin Wall coming down, reports of global warming or Justin Beiber’s getting a new tattoo. However, the current Mrs. Gilbert says she likes it when I write about myself, and besides the fact that I lost a half pound this week, this was the biggest news flash floating around my cranium. I just hate missing anything on the photography front, because sunrises are like fingerprints, snowflakes and the Kardashian sisters. No two are alike. And remember, we’re all individuals. Or in the words of Jon Bon Jovi, “Each one of us has something no one else has, or has ever had: your fingerprints, your brain, your heart. Be an individual. Be unique. Stand out. Make noise. Make someone notice. That’s the power of individuals.” For me, it would be my social security number.

So brace yourself, because for today’s photo appetizer, we are switching gears and not going the usual sunrise/sunset route, but instead heading up the coast to Four Mile Beach. It was late December and the post sunrise sky was filling up with with love, peace and cloudiness, so I hopped onto my Harley and rode up to an old reliable spot, where my camera and I could have some fun, fun, fun till my daddy takes me t-bird away.

Four Mile never lets me down. As I skipped down to the beach, rabbits hopped into the bushes as I saw that the sand was loaded with gulls. Bingo. This did not upset me, as the thought of hundreds of gulls lifting off into the the air with a backdrop of big waves, crashing surf and bands of gypsys always makes for great North Coast action. As you can see from the photos, the gulls were out in full force, as this is a place where they come to for peace, solitude and have their patience tested by a boy and his new camera.

When I go to a beautiful nature spot like this, I try not to leave a carbon footprint. But what I do take away are some images that capture the solitude and beauty of the North Coast. These photos are a labor of love. Or as my mother’s cardiologist once told me, “Once someone touches your heart, the fingerprints last forever.” So will these images, which are now in cyber space for eternity, or at least till “Parenthood” runs of out storylines on NBC.

On to the late night. “A political opponent is accusing Governor Chris Christie of praying for Hurricane Sandy. In response, Christie said the only weather-related thing he’s ever prayed for is a Dairy Queen Blizzard. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton returned to work today and as a joke, her staff gave her a helmet. This is the second time a Clinton in government has been asked to wear protection.” –Conan O’Brien

“The mayor of Los Angeles, Antonio Villaraigosa, was seen partying in Mexico with Charlie Sheen. I believe that celebration is called ‘Cinco de Career-o.’” –Jay Leno “Well, Al-Jazeera has purchased Al Gore’s old TV network, Current TV. It has some fabulous programming lined up. They’ve got a new show called ‘Storage Jihad.’ They have ‘Project Burka.’ And a show called ‘Real Virgins of Fallujah.’” –David Letterman

“What do you put on a trillion dollar coin? On the tail side obviously a bald eagle breathing fire while making love to the American flag. What is on the heads? Obama? Boehner? I’ll tell what you it should be, those Charmin bears – because when you pull an idea like this out of your ass, you’re going to need something soft.” –Stephen Colbert. Jon Stewart to congressional Republicans who voted against Hurricane Sandy aid: “If you guys can’t vote for this, then we’re f**ked for the next few years. And I’m not saying you’re responsible for all the problems facing our country, but you sure are making them a lot harder to fix.”

So that’s my report. I would be remiss as a meteorologist not to mention the extreme weather we had around the nation last Friday. It was 20 degrees colder in San Diego (a chilly 35) than it was in Chicago. Utah and the Dakotas was bombarded with whiteout blizzard conditions, the Grapevine (Interstate 5) in Southern California was closed because of ice and snow for 16 hours while Louisiana had a foot of rain and tornadoes. Meanwhile, in Florida, they experienced record highs of close to 90 degrees. And I don’t want to say it was a cold here in Santa Cruz, but last week I baked a cake and then set it out to cool. Ten minutes later it was frosted.

So birthday wishes and good thoughts go out to my favorite American novelist, Natalie Serber, who celebrates her big day on Thursday. Hope you caught that Ravens-Broncos game over the weekend. It was one for the ages. We’ll catch you running wild and leading your team to a huge win in Saturday’s NFC divisional playoff game. Aloha, mahalo and later, Colin Kaepernick fans.

Good morning and greetings, January Jones fans. Well, the first week of 2013, like my hopes of maintaining a washboard stomach over the holidays, is now history. As of this writing, my waistline is looking more like a washing machine. Or as Oprah once told me, “A waist is a terrible thing to mind.”

However, I’ve always been happy about my name. Geoffrey. Well, except during my school days, when a substitute teacher came into my classroom, picked up the seating chart and tried to pronounce my name. Then we were on our way to mispronunciation city. “Geeeoooofree. Goffrey. Goofy. Sven.”

I love the double initital action. GG. Geoffrey Gilbert. There’s just something about the aligned symmetry, like a Brigette Bardot, Mickey Mantle, Marilyn Monroe, Jesse Jackson, Summer Sanders or Kimmy Kardashian.

I first became aware of the power of names back in 1964, when I heard the song sung by Shirley Ellis called the ‘Name Game.’ It went like this. “Shirley! Shirley, Shirley bo Birley Bonana fanna fo Firley, Fee fy mo Mirley, Shirley.” Okay, so it’s no “Stairway to Heaven,” but it’s a wonderful memory of a misspent youth. And as she said, “And there isn’t any name that you can’t rhyme.” And I thought, “Surely, she must be kidding.’ And she replied. I don’t joke. And don’t call me Shirley.”

I was named Geoffrey after my grandfather Gustav, who passed away before I was born. So my parents decided to go with the first letter ‘G’ in his honor. So there were some decent choices like Glenn, Greg, Gary or Gorgeous. My mother said I got lucky, as their accountant was named George and at one point were leaning in that direction. On an odd note, their insurance guy was named Ringo and the plumber went by John. And they named my brother Paul. They said if he had been a girl, they would have gone with Mick Jagger.

Anyway, my name works for me. I am Geoffrey Gilbert. However, at some point, for some unknown reason my father starting calling me “Geppo,” which then morphed into “Peppo,” which left me feeling abysmal. I also recall him saying, “Jefferson Gilbert, I do declare,” which made me feel like I had joined the Confederacy. Or as Granny from the “Beverly Hillbillies” once described this time in history, “When the North invaded America.”

The name Geoffrey means “God’s peace,” which I gave my parents very little of as a colicky baby. However, my mother had the means within her to soothe her screaming child, but for some reason, she chose to treat me as a friend.

My mother and father had free rein in choosing my name, as they could have gone with Chase, Jackson or Brad Pitt. However, not all parents have that same right. In a story written by Anna Andersen for the Associated Press, a 15-year-old from Reykjavik, Iceland is suing the Icelandic state for the right to legally use the name (Blaer) given to her by her mother, which means “light breeze” in Icelandic. Turns out it is not on a list of names approved by the government. Who knew?

Iceland, like a handful of other countries including Germany, Denmark and the Banana Republic, has official rules about what a baby can be named. However, on the flip side, you came name your dog, moose or reindeer anything you want. Most people don’t question the Personal Names Register, a list of 1,712 male names and 1,853 female names that fit Icelandic grammar and pronunciation rules. State officials maintain this will protect children from embarrassing names like Road Kill, Sissy Boy or Rush Limbaugh.

Blaer’s mother said she learned the name wasn’t on the register only after the priest who baptized the child later informed her he had mistakenly allowed it. Oops. I believe it was either Larry King or Confucius who said, “Be not ashamed of mistakes and thus make them crimes.” Hey, we all make mistakes. Or as comedian Red Skelton put it, “All men make mistakes, but married men find out about them sooner.”

Her mother, Bjork Eidsdottir, said she had no idea that ‘Blaer’ wasn’t on the list. A panel turned down her name on the grounds that the word Blaer takes a masculine article, despite the fact that it was used for a female character in a novel by Iceland’s revered Nobel Prize-winning author Halldor Laxness. In case you find this curious, join the club.

Given names are even more significant in tiny Iceland than in many other countries as everyone is listed in the phone book by their first names. However, this does not create any confusion, as the population of this country is quite small. The phone book is known as the Yellow Page.

This is the first time someone has challenged a names committee decision in court. Choices like Caroline, Chelsea and Carmen Electra have been rejected because the letter “c” is not part of Iceland’s 32-letter alphabet. “Satania” was unacceptable because it was deemed too close to “Satan” while “Brad” was rejected because it too close to “Bra” and Jennifer Aniston.

Bjork Eidsdottir says she is prepared to take her case all the way to Diana Ross and the country’s Supreme Court if a court doesn’t overturn the commission decision on January 25.

“So many strange names have been allowed, which makes this even more frustrating because Blaer is a perfectly Icelandic name,” Eidsdottir said. “It seems like a basic human right to be able to name your child what you want, especially if it doesn’t harm your child in any way. And my daughter loves her name.”

So here’s my thought. If Gwyneth Paltrow can name her daughter Apple, then Blaer works fine for me. It’s really a lovely name. And if you know me, you know I’m all about the love. Or as John F. Kennedy once told White House intern Mimi Alfrod, “Forgive your enemies but never forget their names.”

So to start off the new digital year with a bang, as our first photo lunch box will feature the last sunrise I shot in 2012. The date was December 30, and what started out as a pleasant morning sky blew up into a full on, wonderous delight of color accompanied by a backdrop of big waves. As a local artist described the sky to me that morning, “the clouds were doing gymnastics,” and the Russian judge scored them a 9.8.

It was a morning where the sky just got better and better, and I’d like to think that my future days will be headed in the same direction. The philosopher Voltaire once noted, “The present is pregnant with the future.” French poet Paul Valery wrote that “The trouble with our times is that the future is not what it used to be.” However, I’ll stick with the words of American journalist William Allen White who remarked, “I am not afraid of tomorrow, for I have seen yesterday and I love today.” Oh, I believe in yesterday.

On to a little late night humor. “Some people are concerned 2013 will be an unlucky year because of the number 13. As compared to those lucky years like 2012 and 2011.” – Jay Leno “Well, Al-Jazeera has purchased Al Gore’s old TV network, Current TV. So it’s now owned by Al-Jazeera. And listen to this: $500 million. This is a little something Al Gore has come up with called “global fleecing.” – David Letterman “I’ve got to admit, I love the show “Doomsday Preppers.” It’s about people making bunkers to survive catastrophes they know will happen. A nuclear war, viral epidemic, Fox canceling “Glee.” It’s all going to happen.” – Craig Ferguson

So that’s our first blast of 2013. Let’s hope it’s going to be a great one, as it has been so far for the Golden State Warriors, whose early season performance has shocked the NBA world. We’ll catch you having the best season of your career while putting MVP type numbers. Aloha, mahalo and later, David Lee fans.

Good morning and greetings, winter solstice fans. Well, the days, much like the time it takes me to do a 100 pushups in the morning, are once again getting longer. Autumn is now history, but it went out with a memorable bang, delivering a body blow to the nation’s midsection as the first big blizzard of the season hit on the final day of fall, putting the big chill on holiday travelers, retailers and Santa’s reindeer.

So at this time of year, when the weather turns a bit nippy, my favorite activitity changes from running to chewing. And every once in a while, I stray from my strict vegan diet and enjoy a hearty sandwich. It could be a chicken parmesan, corned beef or bacon, lettuce and tofu. Or perhaps a french dip, patty melt or the old reliable cream cheese and jelly. Then there’s the meatball marinara, barbecued tri-tip or roast beef and cheese. Let’s face it, put anything that once walked between two slices of warm, fresh bread and I’ll eat it.

I believe it was the early Aztecs who developed the first sandwich, a grilled ham and cheese with a horseradish mustard dressing. It has become as much a part of the American landscape as ABC’s “Nashville,” starring the lovely Connie Britton and Hayden Panittiere. It’s been studied and eaten by the great philosophers of our times. As writer Bill Bryson put it, “In three minutes, 98 percent of all the matter there is or ever will be has been produced. We have a universe. It is a place of wonderous beauty and gratifying possibility. And it was all done in about the time it takes to make a sandwich.” And with that, my condiments to the chef.

But there is one sandwich that is my Eliot Ness, the untouchable. And that would be the McRib. But what do we really know about this legendary boneless pork sandwich that is famously molded, caulked and grouted to resemble a rack of ribs? Well, hold on to your mcappetites, because I’m going to give you the low down on this legendary beast of burden that comes slathered in sweet and tangy barbecue sauce on a soft, warm bun.

In a story written by Dina Spector and Kim Bhasin for Yahoo News, McDonald’s announced that the McRib is back. This has faithful devotees of the sandwich and nutritionists dancing in the streets, as nothing in modern sandwich times compares to the following of the shrewdly marketed and boldly bonelessly engineered product.

This grand slam of pork pleasure was supposed to return at the end of October, but was pushed back to help boost end-of-the-year sales just in case the Mayans were right.

So what’s the story behind the McRib? Rene Arend, the inventor of the Chicken McNugget and the Hubble Space Telescope, said that the McNugget was so popular when it was first introduced that the Golden Arches ran out chicken. So out of necessity, as McNuggets were scarcer than finding a Tea Party liberal, McDonald’s needed a new hot-selling product, and the Filet-O-Lobster wasn’t the answer.

Rene Arend designed the McRib after the barbecue-sauce-slathered pork sandwiches he ate during a visit to the Mayo Clinic. The McRib doesn’t contain a single bone or piece of cartilage. With no bones, you’ve got more taste. And no bones means more pork, which means more sandwich, and more sandwich means means satisfaction. And that’s a guarantee you can take to your cardiologist.

Before we go any further, I should tell you that on the McDonald’s website, there a little directive spelling out “The 101 reasons to eat a McRib.” Here’s the intro. “We know you’re out there. The ones who have never tasted the legend that is the McRib. Maybe you’re saying, “Give me a reason to try a McRib. With that tender, boneless pork bathed in our sweet and tangy barbecue sauce, do you really think we could stop at one reason?” The sound you hear now is my rabbi screaming.

In 1972, a professor at the University of Nebraska, Roger Mandingo, developed the “restructured meat product” that the McRib is actually made of . This “restructured meat product” contains a mixture of tripe, heart, and scalded stomach, which is then mixed with salt and water to extract proteins from the muscle. Now doesn’t that sound yummy? The proteins bind all the pork trimmings together so that it can be re-molded into any specific shape — in this case, a fake slab of ribs, frisbee or a new heart valve. When the folks at Burger King heard this, they said, “Go ahead, have it your way.”

McDonalds and the Better Sandwich Bureau says the McRib consists of just five basic components: a pork patty, barbecue sauce, pickle slices, onions, and a sesame bun. But, as reported by Time magazine, a closer inspection of McDonald’s own ingredient list reveals that it contains a total of 70 ingredients, including azodicarbonamide, a flour-bleaching agent often used in the production of foamed plastics like yoga mats. Well, nothing says improved flexibility, more strength, better concentration, improved posture and better breathing than downing a pork sandwich for the ages.

The McRib has become a legend for its here today, gone tomorrow appearances on McDonald’s menus. And like my obsession with the new Miley Cyrus, it has generated a cult-like following. As they boast at the Arch’s site, “You’ve seen what we did to french fries. Just think about how drool-inducing we can make pork.”

Well, unfortunately, they haven’t quite sold me on taking the McRib challenge, as I’m in training for a pizza triathlon. Let’s face it, McDonald’s has struck gold with this juicy, tender, boneless,semi-real pork concoction on a sesame bun. As franchise founder Ray Kroc himself would tell you, “The McRib only comes once year and you never know when. Tasting one is like catching a glimpse of a falling star.” Check, please.

Today’s photo foray features the first hour of light from last Friday, the first day of winter. This was the winter solstice at its finest, with the added Toulouse-Lautrec like effect of it being the shortest day of the year. I was thrilled when I first saw the early morning sky, as I knew something special was sitting on the horizon. I was shooting up and down along West Cliff as huge waves battered the coast. As an added bonus, after the initial cloud colors disappeared, new ones appeared (photo #4,) which surprised and delighted yours truly. After putting an all-star performance, the sun disappeared into the dark clouds. Two hours later, it was pouring and the storm was in full regalia. But what an opening act.

On to some late night humor. “In what’s being called a stunning literary find, a Danish historian has discovered the last remaining, unpublished fairy tale from Hans Christian Andersen. It’s called “Congress Solves the Fiscal Cliff. Over the weekend, Hillary Clinton passed out, hit her head, and suffered a minor concussion. Well, we found out today why she passed out. Apparently, she heard the Lakers won two games in a row.” – Jay Leno According to the Mayan calendar, Friday is the end of the world. You know what? There is a sign of the apocalypse. The New York Knicks are in first place.” – David Letterman “And as silly as this all may seem, a worldwide survey shows that one in 10 people believe the world is going to end on Friday. A Chinese man even designed a survival pod. The inventor says they can hold 14 people comfortably, or roughly three American people comfortably.” – Jimmy Kimmel

“And now The Mayan Channel forecast. Thursday: cloudy, chance of showers, high 39. Friday: volcanos, asteroid strikes, apocalypse.” – David Letterman
“Everybody I run into is talking about the end of the world. They’re not believers in the Mayan apocalypse. They’re Laker fans.” – Conan O’Brien “After three years and six seasons, the final episode of “Jersey Shore” aired tonight. Or as the Mayans put it, “So we were off by one day.” This week, police in Ohio had to break up a fight between two neighbors with the last names Hall and Oates. But don’t worry. It was quickly broken up by officers Simon and Garfunkel.” – Jimmy Fallon

“Yesterday, the Senate floor was reserved for farewell speeches from retiring senators. Each senator received a fitting gift: a gold watch that stopped working years ago Airlines in Europe are testing a new robot that can make drinks for passengers instead of having flight attendants do it. This way, flight attendants can stay focused on their most important job — ramming the beverage cart into your elbow.” – Jimmy Fallon “A woman in Spain was arrested for stashing three pounds of cocaine in her breast implants. I thought, “That’s quite a bust.” – Craig Fersguson

So that’s the pre holiday scoop. We’ll catch you being named Sports Illustrated Man of the Year and not being called for a personal foul in over two weeks. Aloha, mahalo and later, LeBron James fans.

Good morning and greetings, potato latke fans. Well, coming up this week, I’m hitting another milestone along the long and winding road of my life. No, it’s not the 500th sunrise or the 1,000th sunset I’ve shot or my viewing of the season finale of the family friendly “Sons of Anarchy.” No, it’s something even scarier than the every day activities of a Northern California outlaw motorcycle gang involved with the IRA, CIA and Mexican drug cartels. So I’m just going to lay it out there. I’m turning 60.

There, I said it. Six tee. The big six oh. I’ve been trying to avoid this day for a decade, ever since I turned the big five oh. But like turning into your parents, there’s no avoiding it. Even though the number 60 flows out of my mouth as smoothly as cashew butter on a fresh croissant, it’s a painful realization that I’m not getting any younger. Let’s face it, in dog years, I’m dead.

There was little joy in telling people over this past year that I was 59, because that was way too close to the six decades mark. I remember the words of author Hervey Allen, who once said, “The only time you really live fully is from thirty to sixty. The young are slaves to dreams, the old servants of regret.” Ironically, Hervey died while taking a shower at age 60. And that is why from now on I’m only going to take bubble baths.

Years ago, Anglo-Irish priest Jonathan Swift lamented, “No wise man ever wished to be younger.” I’m not sure what that says about me, as I wouldn’t mind knocking thirty years off my life resume. And it was either Daniel Day Lewis or Abraham Lincoln who proclaimed, “In the end, it’s not the years that count. It’s the life in your years.” I’m all for living life to the fullest, and that’s why my new HD DVR recorder is able now able to store over two hundred thousand hours of programming. As they say, “Don’t just watch TV, Direct TV.”

The actor George Clooney, who I can’t count the number of times I’ve been mistaken for, once remarked “I’m kind of comfortable with getting older because it’s better than the other option, which is being dead.” On this point I’m in full agreement. They say age is just a number. If I had a choice, I would keep mine unlisted.

Pablo Picasso once tweeted to his friends that “One starts to get young at the age of sixty and then it is too late.” Hopefully, with my boyish good looks and silver locks, I’ve bucked that trend. He also once said “I’d like to live as a poor man with lots of money.” Yes, happiness is all about the simple pleasures. If so, I’d like to live as a Hawaiian man with lots of warm breezes.

Mark Twain wrote that “Life would be infinitely happier if we could only be born at the age of eighty and gradually approach eighteen.” What an interesting thought. Sounds like a TV series on FX. I know that I’m getting older, as I’m no longer the chiseled Adonis I was back in grammar school. I believe it was my rabbi’s wife who said, “You’re aren’t really turning 60. Just 21 with 39 years experience.” That sounds great. If only I didn’t groan like Don Rickles every time I bend down to pick something up. Or in the words of the great Yankee centerfielder Mickey Mantle, “If I knew I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself.”

But it’s all good, because I have no choice in this aging matter. Or as journalist John P. Grier offered, “You are only young once, but you can be immature for a lifetime.” Or as baseball’s Chili Davis put it, “Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.” Myself, I’m not really thinking 60, more like $59.95 plus tax.

The ageless baseball player Leroy “Satchel” Paige once quipped, “Age is a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.” So I’m going to take his advice and look at this birthday event as another marker along the freeway of life. After all, sixty is just a number, which at this stage of my life, sounds a whole lot better than seventy, eighty or ninety. So to quote the great philosopher and socialite Paris Hilton, “The way I see it, you should live everyday like it’s your birthday.” That’s sound advice coming from a woman who said it while making a video in her birthday suit.

So here’s the bottom line. I’ll be sixty years old on Wednesday. I’m healthy. I can still hit the open three. Loving family and friends abound. I’ve got a a golden retriever who worships me. So life is good and I am more than blessed. And my accountant says I’ll be able to live off the karmic residuals from writing this blog for decades to come.

For today’s photo entertainment I’m going back to my blonde roots. The first two photos are my favorite sunrise moments taken at Lighthouse Point. Portraying the early morning beauty in the skies above Santa Cruz is one of the reasons I started this blog. The other is that I’m very lonely. Then to mark this milestone occasion we move on to a couple of photos of yours truly in the South Pacific and shrouded in color on the central coast. We then close out the birthday montage with two shots of me and my golden retriever Summer. She’d been hounding me for weeks to include her in this holiday package.

On to a little late night humor. “Today in Washington, President Obama met with leaders of the American Indian tribes and they honored the president by giving him his own Indian name: ‘Running Deficit.’ The CEO of The Cheesecake Factory is now warning that Obamacare will be very costly. Hey, The Cheesecake Factory is one of the reasons we need Obamacare in the first place. Mitt Romney is going back to work. Romney is joining the board of directors at Marriott hotels. See, who says President Obama can’t create jobs? There’s one right there. Texas Gov. Rick Perry says he’s taking steps to run for president in 2016. In fact, this week he’s meeting with donors. He better hope they’re brain donors.” –Jay Leno

“A new book coming out reveals that Florida Sen. Marco Rubio was born a Catholic, became a Mormon, then returned to the Catholic church, then became a Baptist, then again returned to the Catholic church. And I think he’s at it again because he’s now asking people to call him Marco Rubinstein. The Obamas have decorated the White House with 54 Christmas trees. It’s all part of their ‘For the last time, we’re not Muslim’ campaign.” –Conan O’Brien

“A lot of dissension among conservatives. One of the leaders of the Tea Party has resigned after a major split in the movement. The Tea Party is now divided between angry whites and even angrier whites.” –Conan O’Brien “A new survey found that ‘Sophia’ and ‘Aiden’ were the most popular baby names this year. The least popular baby name was Kim Jong Sandusky. “McDonald’s just announced that it’s bringing back the McRib later this month. Or, as the Mayans put it, ‘Hey, we tried to warn you.’” –Jimmy Fallon

So that’s the birthday report. Birthday wishes also go out to my old radio partner turned boxing promoter Jerry Hoffman, who celebrates the trip down the birth canal on the same day, 12/12/12. I don’t want to say Jerry is excited about this date, but he has been planning a surprise party for me with cake, ice cream, pony rides and ring card girls ever since the first day we met.

So enjoy the festival of lights that is Hanukah and the parade of latkes, apple sauce and sour cream. We’ll catch you getting off to a great start and surprising everyone with your team’s early season success. Aloha, mahalo and later, New York Knick fans.

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.