Friday, March 02, 2007

60 Was A Wonderful Birthday

It was what could be called a small birthday party, but it meant more to me than ever. In fact, all birthdays mean more to me than they ever have.

Sixty years ago on November 17th, a pink-skinned, eight and a half pound infant saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I arrived in this world kicking and crying at St John's Hospital in Santa Monica. Been kicking and questioning things ever since.

My sweetie, Deborah, planned a great party with my sister Margo, Deb's friend Carla and my two other buddies, Mark and Jim (whom I have known for 35 years).

This party took place at the Marriott Newport Coast Villas. It's got everything, including an Italian marble fountain topped by King Neptune and a herd of seahorses.

We had a great cake to look at (and munch on) and a healthy salad. Our birthday team barbequed gourmet sausages and New York sirloin. Yum!

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Tuesday, January 03, 2006

Welcoming The New Year!

Well, well, New Year's in Santa Barbara county was a fine time indeed.

Deborah and I began with a great dinner at AJ Spurs in Buellton. We enjoyed a table next to the bar and guitarist Mike Shelton provided the tunes. He played my Marty Robbins request ("El Paso") and James Taylor and Willie Nelson songs in his setlist.

Mike later made the rounds of the tables and said he plays three nights on the weekends and golfs the rest of the week! Great work if you can get it and he can. Shelton told us he has worked in the Elvin Bishop band during the "Fooled Around" (And Fell In Love) era, and with It's A Beautiful Day and with members of Pablo Cruise. All great Northern California bands.

The virtual time-capsule trip continued after dinner, as Sherman set the Wayback Machine for my high school years and the songs of Little Anthony and the Imperials...in concert at the Chumash Casino. What a great show! Deb bought a cd of their live performance and each member autographed the cover.

We counted down the last minute of 2005 with hats on our heads and horns tooting a big welcome to 2006! What a great way to begin the year!

Thursday, December 08, 2005

25 Years Ago Today, Sergeant Pepper's Was The Band To Play

I had been a radio disc jockey for nearly 10 years, when on a crisp Monday evening in Seattle, 1980, the news came through the radio speakers of my car. "John Lennon has been shot..."

From that moment on, my memory seems a kaleidoscopic blur. Went home, slept fitfully. Got up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Went to work still not wanting to believe--just hours ago, John Lennon had breathed his last.

Shot by a psycho killer with a hand gun.

The station program director came into the studio to make sure that I knew one thing was expected of me--play lots of Lennon and Beatles music. Don't talk much and play lots of it. Lots and lots of it. To celebrate Lennon's creative life; to drown out my own mournful wail at the death of my childhood idol; to honor the Working Class Hero.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. My idol, I'm not afraid to say it now, more precisely, my inspiration. Spiritual guide to a greater awareness and good humor. He once nick-named himself "Dr. Winston O'Boogie."

I'm sure he knew how he had affected his listeners and peers. We were all one. In the joy of the music, album after album, as the sounds grew in sophistication, moving from the socially active Sixties to the spiritually active Seventies. On a parallel with my own growing anti-war awareness.

He showed us how he did what he did. Seems to me, he encouraged us all to do what we could do for a more peaceful world filled with the best music possible. Just imagine.

You can still do that, can't you?

Sunday, November 20, 2005

My 59th

There must be something magical about having yet another birthday. On last Thursday, the 17th. I have always said after May 15, 2001, I'm in "overtime," after surviving six strokes. Whew.

Everyday since then the adventure of life has been more intense, more mystical and guided for certain by the One who sent us here. Over the last few weeks I have been of service to a friend who injured himself in an accident. He was transported to the hospital for emergency care.

His apartment...well, let's just say it needed a massively extreme cleanup job. My friend's obsessive compulsiveness became a chain-smoking, frozen dinner fed, descent around the sink drain of life. Now, he's in much better surroundings and is relating to people who really care.

And I've been on the crew helping to rehab his dwelling before he comes home from the recovery room this Monday. It will be a great homecoming and I'm looking forward to his reaction to his "new" place.

So while going to Von's to buy cleaning gear, my sweetheart noticed a sign at the Petco advertising a pet adoption day. My honey and I had been talking about getting a companion dog for her Pixie beagle. The adoption volunteers were hoping these doggies, in the system for more than two months, would be taken to a new home. Instead of being taken to be put down.

We strolled into the store and saw two circular wire cages. One held a lazy, brown farm dog. The other barely contained a leaping, energized chihuahua/jack russell mix: Alexander. He saw me walk up to him and jumped up the wire rungs, onto my shoulders and into my life.

The most unexpected birthday present possible. Alexander is the first dog that's been by my choice. Never thought it would happen so soon. So naturally.

But you know it's real when it feels so right it makes you cry--with happiness. For two friends, each with a new lease on life. For this birthday and the cards I've received from my brothers and sisters.

For this is a beautiful world, after all.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Veterans' Day And Weekend 2005

Thirty-six years ago this month I was on the USS Constellation steaming off the coast of Vietnam. 1969, my Navy tour of duty was known as a "WestPac" or Western Pacific cruise.

Veterans' Day... today it's another day, yet unlike most any other day for me. My service enlistment seems so far away, but when I think of my two nephews going over to the mess in Iraq, I'm yanked back into today's headlines.

Certainly lots of good things have happened in the last 36 years.

But here we are, mired in another overseas war with lies as reasons for being there. What will it take for humans to stop believing in war as some sort of solution? As the song asks, "War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing."
The Veterans Weekend event in Santa Barbara is scheduled tomorrow, Saturday, November 12th at 4:30 pm, Stearn's Wharf.
Join us for the two year anniversary of Arlington West Memorial on the beach at Stearn’s Wharf. We will be holding a candlelight vigil in commemoration of the Veterans' Day weekend.

Bring candles, lighters and clear plastic bottles to cover the candles and join the walking "River of Light" to honor the Iraqi civilians killed.

Invited guests are: US Representative Lois Capps, Iraq Veterans Against the War founding member Kelly Dougherty, the Reverend Babatundi Folayemi, former California Assembly Member Hannah Beth Jackson, Korean War Veteran Ron Dexter, Arlington West founder Stephen Sherrill and Gold Star family members have been invited.

For further information please contact Lane Anderson 564-2698.

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

The Last Golden Age Of Radio

I was born into a religion, but I became a believer in Radio. The broadcast faith rewarded those who did one thing: listen.

As I grew up a rabid radio listener in the Golden Age of Top 40, I developed fierce loyalties to my favorite southern California rock radio stations.

93 KHJ "Boss Radio" was the AM powerhouse in the mid-60's, later toppled by progressive album rock FM: KPPC, KLOS and KMET, "a little bit of heaven, 94.7" in the 70's.

These Los Angeles stations first played the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, the Doors and more--the soundtrack of our generation. Grooved into the memory of the good times. The air personalities were deserving of their names--The Real Don Steele, Shadoe Stevens, the Obscene Steven Clean, Mary "Tacos" Turner--the list goes on. One-of-a-kind antics and entertainers, everyone.

I have always loved the potential and magic of radio as a medium, though it's been more like an extra-small in these days of hard drive automation and "iPod on shuffle" programming.

My Vietnam-era Navy service also included Journalism training. Which also included radio broadcasting. I was allowed to become--a disc jockey! I can tell you learning to be an entertainer was what "Zak at the KNAC" in Long Beach was doing. Twenty years of polishing schticks and looking for laffs.

I have had the honor of being part of the air staffs of many California rock stations at the time: KNAC 105.5FM/Long Beach, KOME 98.5FM/San Jose, KZAM 1540AM/Seattle, KZOZ 102.5FM/Seattle, and KOTR 94.9FM/San Luis Obispo. My time in the business encompasses working with consultants, Jeff Pollack and John Sebastian, two of the biggest.

The radio guru I had the pleasure to learn from was Mikel "Lefty" Herrington, program director of KOME in the 80's. His career spanned top 40 KLIV in San Jose as "Captain Mikey" to being known as "Mikel Hunter" and in the early 70's, programming KMET to the top of the L.A. radio ratings.

The former KOME staff are planning a reunion in January. We'll all "put another one on the shelf" in honor of Mikel, who passed into the Great General Manager's office in the sky a few years ago.

Through it all, it's those exceptional broadcasters who inspired me to be my best. They were in the people business because they knew the music programming and dj personalities projected what humans want to hear--real human communication. Funny. Sad. Informative. Outrageous. Compelling. "Cavanaugh," your friend in the radio.

The notable radio human, Garrison Keillor, has confessed to being a radio listener in addition to being a radio performer. He's from Minnesota, so his confession is even more humbling in the Lutheran manner there.

Sure, much of today's music radio is bland, boring, repetitive. However the Internet makes it easy to find today's new music at some online "stations." These, too, are mostly jukeboxes, but the golden days of real "live" spontaneous entertaining radio could happen--all over again.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Three Untold Central Coast Stories

What important, yet untold Central Coast stories, do you know about? When I say "untold," I mean the ones that get a couple of column inches in the back of the paper. Maybe a mention on Eyewitless News. If at all.

A few untold stories to suggest, after hearing from knowledgeable sources:

1) THE TOXIC ALGAE bloom that is in our central coast ocean waters. This is a recurring problem that has begun happening to this degree in only the past five years or so. Seems summer is the time for this growth.

Marine life dies and surfers get very sick from it. Some reporters say domoic acid is a "naturally occuring" poison in our ocean. Others say man made run off from the land is known to feed it and make it grow.

Think about it: when you want (toxic) algae to grow, mix in farm chemicals and sewage in warm summer seawater.

2) CASMALIA TOXIC DUMP and the "clean up" of this Superfund site. Observers who have talked with EPA people know about it and say "scandal" is written all over this one. Maybe this would be a cub reporter's dream story.

3) SB COUNTY SPLIT into a proposed "Mission County" and Santa Barbara County remainder. The commission studying the idea recently issued its report and the idea does not look feasible: the new county would begin with a huge debt. We have yet to read a real analysis of which special interests will gain or lose--and how much--from the split. Do you know who the people are behind this whole idea?

Proponents say they could "privatize" county services and pay for employees on the cheap without offering the usual benefits and retirement plans other counties use to attract quality people in the first place. We'll hear a lot more on this when the regular election season rolls around next year.

So there you have my suggestions for the most underreported, untold stories of impact on the Central Coast. If you have a story topic to add to this list, please email me at the address at the top of the right hand column.

Always like to hear from readers who have something to say!

Monday, September 05, 2005

The Salt Of The Earth

At age 16, the first actual job I held was as a neighborhood box boy at a Von's Market in west Los Angeles. The work was good, the pay was great and the hours were flexible.

How Did It Get This Good?

The only hitch--it was a "union shop," which meant I was required to join the Retail Clerks union and pay something called "dues." I originally thought this was like a tax, just to work there. Good hourly wages, an 8-hour day, a 40-hour workweek with overtime pay at time and a half.

Yeah! Pretty good deal for a kid in the go-go, mid-1960's. I never gave it much thought then, but I learned later the simple working conditions I took for granted were the result of nearly a hundred years of American workers' efforts to achieve them. Many were beaten, run out of their homes and some were murdered.

The grocery strike of last year--the largest in history--brought all this into perspective for me. It’s only when the going gets tough, do we see who we really are. Did you respect the striking workers by shopping elsewhere? Did you think about it? Do you think unions get results for their members?

Price To Be Paid When Fighting For Rights

I read letters to the editor complaining of the inconvenience brought about by the strike. But I also read letters praising the courage of those willing to stand up for their position. Clerks and box persons were outside the door holding signs and explaining why they were on strike for some 140 days. These workers lost real income and endured personal hardship.

What was the inconvenience for me? I changed my shopping habits and learned something new. My significant other and I tried to shop at Lompoc stores not involved in the strike, a difficult goal to achieve. Foods Co (Kroger) has a current labor agreement, so we shopped there.

As I paid attention to the story in the papers, Internet and tv, I learned Kroger also owns Ralphs, one of the stores that locked out employees. Hmmm.

Whatever happened to the mom-and-pop grocery store of my youth? Gobbled up by bigger competitors, who merged and formed even larger corporations, which try to trim overhead expenses. Now, these companies wanted to cut their share of employee health care costs.

Why Unions Exist

Just what could a single person say to the "boss" of a company that size? Not much. Only by banding together can workers--in a union--get the clout that gets attention at a bargaining table. They also get results for the membership, who approved a new contract.

Since Labor Day last year, I have had two part-time jobs, for which I am very grateful. Each one is a learning experience about the job requirements and about myself. It may not be fair, but a man often judges his own self-worth by whether he's employed or not. Work well done provides its own dignity.

I hear two songs from my dj days: "Salt of the Earth" by the Rolling Stones from their 1968 Beggars Banquet lp, and "Working for a Living" by Huey Lewis.

Next year, while the sun shines on the first Monday of September and the barbeque burgers are sizzling, these tunes will be on the boombox at the park when we celebrate "Labor Day." I’ll raise "my glass to the hard working people" and give three cheers for the salt of the earth.

N'yah, What's Up, Doc?

Three years ago, New Orleans' leading local newspaper, the Times-Picayune, National Public Radio's signature nightly news program, "All Things Considered," and the New York Times each methodically and compellingly reported that the very existence of south Louisiana's leading city was at risk. Hundreds of thousands of lives were imperiled by exactly the sequence of events that occurred this week.
All three news organizations also made clear that the danger was growing because of a series of public policy decisions and failure to allocate government funds to alleviate the danger.
The question raises itself: what should we know about Central Coast emergency planning/budgeting/policy decisions to withstand an emergency here? Such as an earthquake? Diablo Canyon cooling system explosion? Tsunami protection for the coastline? Power failure over the entire area?

Blogophone props to 23-year-old Brendan Loy, who with no formal meteorological training has drawn widespread praise for his hurricane blog. The Irishtrojan.com blog postings urged New Orleans residents to leave the city two days before the mayor issued an evacuation order.

Friday, September 02, 2005

One More Cup Of Coffee

Madness. Confusion. The smell of death. Danger in the fires burning above the flooded city of New Orleans. The federal emergency agency director, Michael Brown, is quoted saying he's working "under conditions of urban warfare."

The muddy floodwaters are now toxic with fuel, battery acid, rubbish and raw sewage.

The Gulf Coast hurricane aftermath is pretty bad. Amid the tragedy, humans rise to the occasion and selflessly help others survive. It's hard to comprehend as I write this from my safe and sunny Central Coast of California perch.

A few days ago, I was going to write a bit on the antioxidant effects of coffee. How coffee is the number one antioxidant consumed by Americans. How antioxidants in general have been linked to a number of potential health benefits, including protection against heart disease and cancer. How I thought tomatoes had to be high on the list but they're not.

Coffee for me now, as I learned it could be more than 12 years ago is a liquid of sobriety. Its aroma is a calming presence. Its heat a comfort to a troubled soul. Filling others' cups an act of service. A conscious contact with a Higher Power.

It provides moments of steadiness and solid contact with familiar smells and sounds. The clink of cups and saucers. Humans helping humans. Conscious contact.

Katrina's survivors in New Orleans might not need a cup of coffee at this moment, but they sure could use the grace of God to survive another lawless night.