I’d like to be able to tell you that I’ve always wanted to be a teacher, and am happy to have the career I set out in—but that would be a lie..  I have great respect for individuals who are able to be that certain about a career choice at a young age.  Many people know what they  want to do in high school, and pursue their education with that in mind.  Many people know their going to college right out of high school, and worked hard to get in to the college they wanted.    For me, I didn’t know what I wanted, and I certainly didn’t work hard.  I graduated from San Diego High School with a GPA of one something something (when it starts with a one, it doesn’t matter what the other numbers are).  Out of a class of 593—I finished 577—proving the cliché things can always be worse.

Oh, a little side note:  San Diego High School’s mascot?  The Cavemen.  When I got to the University of California Santa Cruz, I discovered the mascot was the Banana Slugs.  Only in California could you go from Caveman to Banana Slug.  Anyway…

My lack of motivation of success was, apparently, not lost on one of my school administrators:  Vice Principal Nancy Moreno.  Nancy Moreno was my vice principal from 7-12 grade.  She was my vice principal for three years of junior high school, and then when I moved on to high school–she followed me.   She was, to put it mildly,  a terrifying individual.  First of all, she constantly wore mirrored sunglasses—even indoors.  I may not remember this correctly, but I think she posed in them for her yearbook photograph.  Her face was perpetually stuck in a smirk I can only describe as ”barely tolerant.”   And for reasons that shall remain forever murky, she sang an ear-splitting rendition of “Do You Hear What I Hear?” at every school Christmas show. All six years.   Outside of those performances, though, I had no idea what her voice sounded like, because in all that time of her being my vice principal she never spoke to me.  Not once.

Until the day I graduated.

It was after the ceremony.  There was the usual amount of  frivolity, horseplay, high fives, and of course, silly string.  I was, in fact,  high fiving a friend of mine, the unfortunately named Mark Lemongello (whom we had nicknamed “The Gel.”)   Immediately afterwords, there was a forceful tap on his shoulder.  We all turn around to be confronted fact to face with mirrored sunglasses, and a barely tolerant smirk. Ms. Moreno  just stood there looking at us – for a moment I thought,–oh my god, she’s going to sing.  Happily, she instead congratulated Mark, and then turned to me. She extended her hand and said the following words:

“Congratulations. Although, I don’t know why I’m bothering.  You’re never going to amount to anything.”

Then she sauntered off.  I don’t know where she went after that. Perhaps to stop by a local animal shelter to kick some puppies, or to find a senior citizen in a wheelchair to shove down a stairwell.   I laughed, and pretended it was funny, but mostly I remember it being awkward as hell.  As I walked out of the stadium, I was comforted by one thought:  at least I’d never have to set foot in a high school again!

There are some life lessons I’ve gleaned from this experience.  Number one:  Don’t make bold declarations about the direction of your life when you are 17.  Lesson number two: There are good ways of being honest and direct, and there are not so good ways.  Some might look back on this event and say that Vice Principal Nancy Moreno was giving me some tough love, being brutally honest, so I’d get the kick in my backside that I needed.  Perhaps.  But if your idea of tough love is “I’m going to make you feel worse about yourself, so I can feel better about myself”–that’s not actually tough love.  That’s narcissism.   That experience, though, always reminds me how important it is what I say to students, and how I say it.  It’s a maxim that doesn’t apply just to my students–it applies to anyone, really.  Oddly enough, that’s a harder lesson for me to remember outside of the classroom.  As I get older, I find I am much more patient with my students than with the adults I know.

The third lesson is this:  When I tell my students the above story, they often suggest that I should find Nancy Moreno and tell her how wrong she was about me.  While this thought has a certain appeal, I have my doubts that she actually remembers me, or even the words she spoke.  The worse thing that happened is not that she said it—the worse thing is that for while, I believed it.  It’s not important  that she knows she was wrong; the important thing is that I know.  Four:  it’s really important not to give up on someone. It’s so easy to make judgments, especially if those judgments have ever been proven right.  There was one student I had a couple of years ago who I made up my mind about.   He had done nothing in class, except give me a lot of attitude and treat many of his classmates with a lack of respect.  Desperate to graduate he came to me after midterms and asked if it was still possible to pass my class. I told it him it was, but that he was going to have to do a great deal of work–more than is classmates–and make a sincere effort to treat me and those classmates with respect.  He readily agreed, so I signed the contract with him, then waited for him to fail.

He didn’t.

He did everything I asked of him, and more, so when the year ended, he passed my class and graduated. I was happy for him, but of course, he never showed me the slightest bit of gratitude.  That was okay–the important thing was, that he kept up his end of the bargain.

When I was grading his final exam, I noticed something he scrawled on the last page.  I thought it was just a note he may have written to himself–it certainly wasn’t put in a place where he ever really wanted me to find it.  I would have ignored it if  I hadn’t seen my name:

Mr. Brodie:

I remember back in tenth grade you told us you didn’t give up on students.  At the time, I thought that was just the usual teacher bullshit.  But this year I realized you meant it.  You didn’t give up on me, even when everyone else did.  Including me.  I’ll never forget that. 

There.  Right there.   That’s why I  teach.

with the puppies

because I was trying to help the new girl
that wasn’t feeling well.
I don’t like her, but…that’s irrelevant.

There were four lanes, and the car in front of me in the far left was going too slow.
Anybody recall those signs that state “Slower Traffic Keep Right”?
The car in front of me must have been exempt and also apparently didn’t want to get passed by a little blue Toyota.
Tough shit.
I cut it off.

Yes, I did. Unapologetically.

I have become an aggressive, downright ruthless driver.
It’s necessary here.
Grow up.
Learn how to drive.

I get cut off every fucking day.
I grumble for five seconds, and then I carry on…because it happens
every
fucking
day.
I have more important things to care about than whether I just got cut off or not.

Don’t drive city traffic if you live in a goddamned happy bubble.

I cut this car off, and the driver decided to follow me for a full five minutes
right into the parking lot of my final destination.

I got out of my car and continued with my day as best I could
while she verbally accosted me with needlessly racist remarks
threatened me
and retreated to the safety of her car like the whiny little girl she was when I turned and faced her
with kennels in my hands

because I can hold my own.

I can win a battle of wits
can flounder my way through most legalities
and I have a running chance with most physical confrontations.

Yes, I cut you off.
What would you like me to do about it?
Her answer came in threats.
Great.
Yes.
Fine.
This is accomplishing a lot.
Do you feel better now?
You were driving like an asshole, and so was I.
You can’t…What’s the matter with you?
How many people did you cut off to spit your little fire while running back into your car when I didn’t even hesitate to get out?
Is that showing the kind of concern I’m supposed to have for your baby in the car?
Grow the fuck up.
I’m not fucking afraid of you.
Next time, bring your gun and your husband and your baby and we’ll put on an improvisational musical drama in the streets, so that everyone can see how amazing your are…but right now…

“You need to get out of my way,” was my response.

I was about to be late, you see. Late with the puppies.

❧❧❧

Just like last year, we had some powerful October rains, though nothing like record breaker on October 14th of 2009, as the San Francisco Chronicle reported:

The Great October Rainstorm of 2009

“It was the worst October storm the Bay Area has experienced since 1962, when terrible weather famously disrupted the World Series between the Giants and the New York Yankees.

San Francisco, Santa Cruz and Livermore all set rainfall records for a single day in October. Nearly 4 inches fell in downtown Oakland, almost 20 percent of what the city usually gets during an entire year.

And just like last year, after the record storm, I found a number of very large ladybug masses in Strawberry Canyon along the fire trail:  (Note, you can click on any of the images below to see a desktop-sized image.)

Compared to last year’s massing, however, this was a rather modest gathering, maybe several thousand. But in October of 2009, the gathering was monumental!   The swarm thickly covered  plants for at least 20 yards, compared to about 4 feet this time. As I wrote in that post:

I read that a gallon jar will hold from 72,000 to 80,000 ladybugs. If that’s the case, then the number alongside the fire trail had to be way, way over a hundred thousand, maybe two or three hundred thousand! It was astonishing, and somehow touching, to see so many little creatures in a brief moment of community.

This was just one small portion of the huge 2009 swarm, which covered blackberry bushes for over 20 yards!

Perhaps this gathering will grow in the days ahead. I’m very curious to see if the numbers build, and I still wonder, as with the 2009 storm, if the big rains had anything to do with the gathering, or whether the ladybugs always head up into the canyons in late October.

By the way, last year’s post includes a ton of fascinating information and folklore on ladybugs that I think you’ll really enjoy if you haven’t read it yet:

See:  They Are the Ladybugs of the Canyon

Yes, ladybugs come in chrome too, not just red and black!

One of the best things about the rain, especially the first big rain after nearly half a year of typical summer drought, is how wonderful it smells in the Hills and how vibrant the colors are!  The mosses and lichen, especially, almost seem to glow in deep greens and yellows:

Looking at the moss and lichen, I also found discovered I was being eye-balled by one of the many Fox Squirrels in the Canyon:

"You lookin' at me?"

This orb spider web was especially beautiful in the sun:

Another beastie you will usually see after a good rain are the beautiful—and often, huge!—banana slugs:

A lot of people go, “Ugh, slimy slugs!” and I know that banana slugs can be a pest, but I you get down on the slugs level, and watch it move, it’s an incredibly graceful animal. It’s very responsive to its environment and is far from stupid, a term I’m reluctant to use looking at any marvel of nature, no matter how humble.

This banana slug was almost 10 inches long and twice as thick as my thumb!

When I find slugs in the middle of the fire trail, I always move them to the side of the trial they were heading for, because, sadly, I’ve seen way too many smooshed slugs by runners and walkers who didn’t see these little wonders.

This particular day, after the rains, I noticed hundreds and hundreds of small, fluttering creatures in the air. Clearly, flying was not their forte, and yet, the air was filled with them. On closer examination, I discovered that they were some kind of termite.  My camera doesn’t have a close-up lens, but they looked very much like this:

Termite Alates

At first, I wondered if they might not be flying ants, but I did a little research and was able to confirm from their body shape and wing structure that they were in fact termites:

I also learned that in areas like ours, which have a distinct dry season, the winged (or “alate”) caste members of termite nests leave in large swarms after the first good soaking rain. The alates are the reproductive caste. They fly off to find a new nesting sight, shed their fragile wings, mate, and start a new colony. I noticed alates all through Strawberry Canyon and over into the Claremont Canyon as well. There must have been tens of thousands of them, fluttering precariously in the air.

I was not the only one noticing this mass exodus. When I came to the sunnier parts of the Canyon, I started seeing lots of Western Fence lizards, running from cover to snap up some hapless alate that landed too close:

Western Fence Lizard hunting alates—and watching me!

There must have been a lot of stuffed Western Fence Lizards that evening, because the alates seemed endless in numbers—natures way of making sure that enough termites survived to carry forward the species.

On my way down Claremont Canyon, I came across this lovely, but rather faded and battered butterfly:

I believe this is a Red Admiral (Vanessa atalanta), one of the many lovely butterflies you will often see in the Canyons. (Kudos to Kay Loughman’s wonderful Wild Life in the North Hills website, which has some great images and information to help nature lovers identify plants and animals of our area.)

Yes, the fire trails in the Berkeley Hills can be muddy after a big rain, but there are many rewards for braving the mud. As I said, the fresh smell of the wet earth and vegetation is simply wonderful.  The washed and soaked plants and lichen are so vibrant. I’ve also noticed that, for some reason, one tends to see more wild animals out right after a rain than at other times.

I hope enjoyed this post and that you will take find time to explore for yourself the amazing and beautiful ecosystem, that is the Berkely Hills. Hope to see meet you on the trails some day!

❧❧❧

Chapter 13 of Gringa. Opera.  Sexual revolution.  Banana slugs.  Loma Prieta earthquake.   Salsa.  Need I say more?

Killer Salsa

Use your color properly.

Prepare the cooking space by making sure its owners are not home.  Listen for the warning rumble of tires.  Hearing none, look in the refrigerator for chilies.  Find two serranos, two jalapeños, and two yellow chilies.

Locate a griddle and toast the chilies until their skins are the glossy black of Rastafarian dreadlocks.  Peel the chilies, being careful not to touch the sensitive areas of your body, as chili oil burns like the discovery of a dishonest lover.

Place chilies in a borrowed blender with one tablespoon each of oregano, cumin, and minced garlic.  Add a fourth of a cup of water from the filtered pitcher in the refrigerator, and toss in a teaspoon of salt.  Pray that there’s a twenty-eight-ounce can of whole tomatoes in your mother’s cupboard.  Add them to the blender, and mix slightly, but do not puree.   Salsa should be chunky.

Serve with tortilla chips.  Explain to your girlfriend that the endorphins in hot salsa are a guaranteed aphrodisiac.  Put your clothes back on, then wash your dishes well, and replace them in exactly the same spot where you found them.  Make sure that the kitchen is spotless, and pack out any trash in your bike pannier.

Gringa is my story of growing up white, straight, and boring with a lesbian mom, a brother with Down syndrome, and a deep desire to embrace Mexican food and culture.  The memoir is available wherever books are sold.  Support your favorite bookstore, or buy Gringa at Powell’s.com or at Amazon.com.

From Dad - London

I’ve kind of been slacking off in the deltiology department, so this edition of Mail Call is a little smaller than previous ones (here, here and here). I got a pretty good “shipment” in from London/Nairobi, so now seemed like a good time to update.

From Dad - London

From Dad - London

From Dad - Nairobi

From Dad - Nairobi

From Dad - Nairobi (This one kind of scares me. Actually, there's no kind of about it.)

From Dad - Nairobi

From ?? - Longtam Pond, China

From Kirsti - Finland (Who knows how it got torn in half.)

The reverse of Kirsti's card above. It just barely had enough of the address to get here. Of course, my goal is to "train" the local letter carriers to simply put all postcards in my mailbox by default, even without and an address. I achieved a major milestone a few weeks ago when my sister's mailman delivered her a postcard actually addressed to a neighbor. He's so used to me sending her postcards, he didn't even look!

From Manon - Huizen, The Netherlands

From Brenda - Oregon

From Jacqueline - Hertfordshire, England

From "Bellatrix" - Hong Kong (This one is so cool, I wanted to share what Bellatrix (LeStrange?) wrote: "... This is a photo of the 'Wishing Tree.' People write their wishes on a paper, and tie the paper with a rope and then throw them to the tree. If they hang on the tree, that means the wishes will come true. Unfortunately, the tree is strained from years of use, so the government has forbidden anyone from doing that again. They made a new plastic one to replace it.")

From Sonice - Brazil

From ?? - Beijing, China

From Beata - Poland

From Leslie - Walt Disney World

From Leslie - Walt Disney World

From my Grandmother - Sea of Galilee (Israel)

From Rowan - Sydney, Australia

From Ticha - Thailand

From my boss - Coeur d'Alene, Idaho

From my Aunt Kim - Fort Worth, Texas

From Murley - Capernaum (Israel)

Since I have gotten into college coaching my dad and I have become acquainted with a number of creative and unique mascots for schools that we had previously never heard of. A few of my personal favorites are the UC-Santa Cruz “Banana Slugs,” the Stetson University “Hatters,” and the University of North Florida Ospreys.

While every other school seems to be nicknamed the “Wildcats”, “Bears” or “Eagles” these schools have gone outside the box and chosen mascots that are a bit unconventional and perhaps more unique than imposing. I mean for my money a Banana Slug is more cute than intimidating, and an Osprey is a nesting bird that doesn’t quite have the same fear factor as a vulture or the majesty of a soaring eagle.

I mean come on Stetson University plays off the name the school shares with a popular cowboy hat and uses that as their mascot for crying’ out loud. However, that no other school in the country uses a hat as their mascot makes them memorable and distinctive, and there is definitely something positive to be said for that.

However, while hats, nesting birds and slugs are interesting mascots perhaps my favorite belongs to Campbell University in Buies Creek, North Carolina who proudly call themselves the “Fighting Camels.”

I am not joking. Campbell’s mascot is literally an orange one-hump camel with its back teeth clenched and a mean sneer on its face, and let me just say that I wouldn’t want to meet this particular camel in a dark alley if you know what I’m saying.

Since we are in town to play Campbell tonight I hope to find out how they came to be called the “Fighting Camels,” since I wasn’t aware that many camels populated the hills of North Carolina or the area surrounding Buies Creek.

However, I digress. Ultimately, I guess I am probably slightly jealous that I have never attended or worked for a school with such an interesting and unique mascot. I have been a “Hornet”, “Viking”, “Mustang”, “Hoosier” (a person from Indiana) a “Big Green” (whatever that means) and am now an “Eagle,” however none of them even remotely compare to the camel.

In the end I have to give Campbell high marks for thinking outside the box and choosing a mascot to represent their school that is all their own. When it comes right down to it even if you aren’t frightened by the look of the camel you have to give the school credit for their individuality, and let’s not forget about the guy inside the camel costume at all their sport events who in my opinion deserves a freakin’ metal of honor.

Phyllis from 'The Office.'

The bitter cold didn’t stop trivia enthusiasts from packing the house at the Black Swan Pub for the first Dan The Man Trivia show of 2010.

The competition was tight, as 8 teams are separated by just 12 points. The Dirty Dixies grabbed the lead, but the team is being challenged by Under the Radar, Chasin’ Trivia, and the Erotic Adventures of Hercules.

Under the Radar put on an impressive performance in the final round by acing all 10 questions and correctly answering the Hero or Zero question. The team bet 20 points on the Hero or Zero question and finished with the maximum 70 points for the round.

The Dirty Dixies and the Erotic Adventures of Hercules won the free rounds of beer.

And thanks to everyone who brought NUTS (Needless, Useless, Tasteless Stuff) to be regifted as trivia prizes.

Trivial tidbits from the night included:

• Before becoming a cast member on the TV show “The Office,” Phyllis Smith was a cheerleader with the NFL’s St. Louis Cardinals in the 1980s. Smith plays Phyllis Lapin on the show.
• Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburrgh offers a $7,000 annual scholarship for bagpipe majors. The scholarship also provides a kilt subsidy.
• The mascot for the University of California at Santa Cruz is the Banana Slug.

Standings:

• Dirty Dixies – 103
• Under the Radar – 100
• Chasin’ Trivia – 99
• Erotic Adventures of Hercules – 99
• Spider Donk Pay Up – 92
• Zoinks! – 91
• Squelch – 91
• Guys & Dolls – 91
• Wayne’s World – 81
• RJ Rejects – 75
• 2 Kool 4 Outside – 66
• Next Round’s On Me – 24

It was December 2003 – I was 23 and had freshly graduated on the four and a half year program from UC-Santa Cruz. We were (Josh and I) riding the trails around my parents house in Fair Oaks like wild banshees, wide eyed, fast as eagle’s talons like a bunch of moon shiners drunk on their first production swig of the god damn season. School was over. Snow was starting to fall. Selah. Praise Jah. Resting our loins on the banks of the American River tired from the ride, we grabbed a stick to clear the clog in the peace pipe. Unbeknownst to ourselves at the time, this stick was indeed poison oak, almost dormant in mid December, but still somewhat powerful and punch packing when smoked in conjunction with the devils harvest. I woke up two days later in a poison oak stupor – eyes sealed shut, the oak spreading like a puss filled cancer across my skin. It would take a month and a half before that evil ass oak would leave me be. Don’t muck with the oak, friends. It will bite you in the ass and leave your awe struck and floored. End of story. I’ve have never received the blessed poison oak since then. Leaves of three leave me be. Smoke the oak and you’re immune? Haha. No oak received on this recon mission into the Forest of Nisene Marks. We pinpointed the site of the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake, surveyed the remains of the Porter House (dude was lieutenant governor), became banana slug whisperers, hiked 5.6 miles, and this is the second time in a handful of weeks. Get some shoes and start walking.

photos by josh staab and brad oates.

As a primarily traditional archer, I’ll be lucky to score in the top 90%, but it’ll be fun!  I don’t even have the sights on the Hoyt set for 60 meters yet.  I’ll have to figure that out when I next attempt the 50-meter challenge this Thursday.

I think I’ll wear my UCSC tee-shirt.  The one with the banana slug on it.  If you don’t know the significance of that, it’s not important.  (Go Banana Slugs!)

Josh wipes spit from his eye while Doug checks for it in his Pepsi

Listening intently. We were. Then, um…the, uh, sun…shine – no, it was a noise – yes, a noise…

Okay, so we were distracted by the wires and gizmos on the table, and Griff’s cool rip-off shirt, and the way Fields’ head shines in the lights, and why Jana has so many keys, and wondering if she has bigger arms than Matt, and if Andy were a girl, would he have a really deep man-laugh…

So, we might not have heard everything that was said on this attempt by the SYMP crew at podcasting greatness. We don’t have many notes. But perhaps that was because of the brevity of the show, rather than a breakdown of our observation.

(No, we have no soda machines near our TV to distract us.)

At just over 41 minutes, this episode was, by SYMP Standards, hasty. And yet, tasty.

In our virgin banana daquiri haze, we recollect hearing something about McGill being gone and Brazelton going and how Griffin is writing a book, and Andy once read a book, Jake didn’t pull his weight, and Josh dreams of Michael Phelps in his leg Speedos, and Jana used to dream about Matt…

But then that’s when we woke up and realized that Josh was leaving the room before the podcast was over, so perhaps we should send him prank emails that will end up on the floor of Doug’s car.

And so we might.

But – shh – don’t tell anyone.

Sarcasm is a tough thing for some people to handle. On the one hand, if done well, it can be very funny. But the essence of sarcasm is that it is communicating a deeper truth in an opposite way and, usually, there is some amount of hostility involved.

Those without a real sense of humor, or those that tend to be overly sensitive or insecure don’t usually like sarcasm. They tend to be more concerned with the underlying hostility than the communicated truth.

On the other hand, there are those that love sarcasm too much. This would be in the same way, we imagine, that someone could love bananas too much. Is that really possible? No, not really. But there are some people that love the humor of sarcasm too much, and they also forget the truth that is being transmitted.

That said, this episode was sarcasm-filled, from the opening box-bop by Jana to the closing bye-byes by the SYMP Four. Whether you like this episode will probably be largely dependent on how you respond to sarcasm.

Of course, we like it.

The Four Amigoes returned to the Purpose Driven Conference Room for Episode 87 in the series, feeling frisky and perhaps a little dinghy. (But we’ll leave that story for Josh to tell.) Armed with cell phones for Matt and Jana, an empty VitaWater for Josh, notes for Doug, a cup of ice to get McGill in trouble, a Snowball for everyone, and a punching box/Love Out Loud set for Sarti, Doug and the Paid-Less-Than-Andy Three flew through 50 minutes of podcast yumminess.

Did we say yumminess? Perhaps in a Kashi sort of way. When it was over, we all felt that, like Matt, we were left with copious amounts of air in our large colon. But satisfied.

Our favorite sound bites from this episode:

• Doug: (talking about Jake, to Jana) “He couldn’t fill your shoes.” (We’re assuming that either Jake has small feet, or Jana has duck-sized flippers.)
• Letter to the SYM gang: “to my four favorite people on a Monday morning”
• Matt (to “poor” Andy): “a shadow makes more than a substance” (Bitter, thy name is McGill)
• Doug (to Matt): “we know you don’t have a legitimate ministry”
• M&M (in a moment of profound clarity): “My attitude towards food is really mentally weak.” (AH! The emperor has no clothes!)
• Fields: “We used to be award-winning” (Don’t despair, Dougie. You’re still getting two banana slugs from us on this one.)
• McGill (describing the effect of denominations): “…innovation squeezed out of you, drop by drop.” (Which is why we declined the invitation to join the United Episcopal Freewill Monkeys of America.)
• McGill, again: “I decided I was being rude.” (And…?)

We could go on and on…much like this episode…but we’re behind again and must catch up…on our sleep…and monkey hygeine…

Episode 88 is right in front of us…

And now…it’s raining like there will be no tomorrow. Time to build an ark. I mean, it’s torrential downpours lightening to heavy rain. Okay, so we are in a rainforest but still, there should be a good long summer. Back in 1998 I think we had a summer of no rain and no sun. It stayed cloudy and hazy the whole time. Plants barely grew and many yellowed and died in the ground because there just wasn’t enough heat or sun.

But back to that West Coast ark. The animals that would first board it, or slither onto it would be snails and banana slugs. There are the ubiquitous snails that crawl over our plants and the sides of houses. If one hankered for escargot (a fancy word for garlic flavored, butter dipped rubber), you could just pluck them from gardens. And slugs, when I first moved to Vancouver my friends in Calgary didn’t believe me when I said there were slugs up to a foot long. After all, the biggest a slug gets in Calgary is about two inches, if it’s massive. (They’re a different breed too.) But these natives to the coast are slimily large and have a high ooze factor. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Banana_slug 

The first banana slugs I ever saw were when we visited cousins in Kelowna. We were talking on the sidewalk as the sun started its descent and I kept looking back to the side of the stucco house. There were two large black things on it and I swore they had changed position. I finally pointed them out and my mother said, oh they’re giant slugs. She was joking but in fact they were and remain the longest I’ve ever seen, being each a foot long. Eyewww.

Then I spent a year upgrading hiking trails along the Baden Powell trail in North and West Van. That’s when I saw the rainbow of slimy critters. Sometimes they looked like glossy piles of pooh…until they moved. They were white, yellow, black and brown, sometimes with spots and averaged between 6-8 inches. I used to “accidentally” drop rocks on them. I was young and they disgusted me but I now realize they play an important part in decomposition and recycling of organic wastes into new soil. But they are so so slimy. Settle has had slug races in the past and you can buy life size magnets.

Slugs remind me of my younger brother’s wicked experiments when we were kids. He’d gather up a bunch of garden slugs and put them on the sidewalk in the hot sun. Then he’d surround them with a ring of salt. Death by salt or by sun. Usually they would try to swim the channel of white salt. They got their payback the day he was puttering in the garden. He went to take off his garden gloves and pulled them off with his teeth…getting a mouthful of slug. Hmmmm.

I also wrote a kids poem, a cautionary one about a slug that likes beer too much. You can leave a pot of it in your garden and they’ll just slide on in and drown drunk. Of course you’re left with the gooey stew to get rid of then.

I can’t forget that on this West Coast ark, besides snails and banana slugs, there would be wolf spiders. I once had arachnophobia (somehow cured by working those hiking trails) but wolf spiders still creep me out. They’re the size of small mice, have long eyestalks (okay it’s probably their mandibles but they look like eyestalks), are hairy and move fast, way too fast. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wolf_spider I usually find one in the tub, it having gone for a drink and getting trapped by the porcelain sides (It’s not true that they come up from drains, and I have a hair catcher on mine, though I wouldn’t put it past the buggers to push that hatch over.)

The other night I caught a bit on the Discovery channel of a computer re-enacted piece on prehistoric times. When the oxygen was super rich and the planet super warm, there were dragonflies the size of eagles and spiders the size of your head. Yeee. Keeping that in mind, wolf spiders don’t seem so bad but they still give me the heebie jeebies.

I’m hoping we’ll get sun again because there has been so much rain that all of these denizens are creeping and slithering about. If I had to board an ark with them, they’d get their own hermetically sealed section.

We knew it was going to be a special episode when McGill started with a joke about afterbirth pie.

For the first time in a very long time, the entire SYMP posse was gathered for a session at the big, brown, cluttered table. And what a session it was. Light on prep and substance, heavy on insider tidbits and Andy-shrieks.

It was like having the first staff meeting after Christmas vacation without the boss. Lots of stories, little focus, random asides, silly giggling. In other words, pretty much a typical show.

In fact, we had quite a disagreement over what the title of this post should be. Here are some of our rejected titles for this episode:

• “Simply Insider”
• “Sting Like a Caterpillar”
• “Oxygen Suck with a Saliva Chaser”
• “Who Wants to Be a Brazel-aire?”
• “It’s All About Us”

We would’ve gone with the last title, but only if they had cut out everything but the couple of minutes in the middle where they talked about us. Of course, then they could have earned the last half banana slug in this week’s show rating.

But SYMP isn’t about earning anything. Apparently, working at SB isn’t about earning anything either, unless you’re a senior pastor or whatever it is that Fields is.

As always, we were distracted by the table items. The flash of Brazel’s head at the beginning of the show was startling, but what really had us nervous were all the fluids on the table. Not only did Matt and Josh have bottles of yellow VitaWater, while Jana took care of a pink, but there was an empty pink by Griff, with the rest of the VitaWater case positioned by McGill. Add DF’s soda cup, and we were really glad that Sarti’s water had already broken, otherwise there could have been a VitaFlood.

Time for the stand-out quotes from this episode:

• Jana: “I’m not bitter…I am bitter.”
• Doug: “…green with jealousy”; Matt: “Jealousy is chartreuse.”
• Andy (in a fit of laughter): “ahh….trogolyte…ahhh”
• Andy (feeling the need to update everyone on his personal hygiene): “I’m sweating”
• Griff (asking the question everyone has wondered): “Which is more valuable – a good salary or friendship with Doug?”

Here’s another disagreement we’re having. Perhaps you could help us out. If the SYMP gang were superheroes, like the Fantastic Four or the Justice League, which superhero would each of them be?

Our biggest disagreement at the moment concerns Monsieur Matt. While there have been reasons given for Hellboy, Bucky, and The Sandman – to name a few – we are currently leaning towards Superman. Yes, we know, that might be overdoing it, but M&M’s move in the middle of this episode, when he got serious, leaned back, and took off his glasses – well, it just made us think of Clark Kent, and how he only really gets powerful when he takes off his glasses. Granted, McGill is more “Man of Super Soft Angel Food Cake” than “Man of Steel”, but that’s our opinion for now.

What do you think? Is Fields the real Superman? And is Griff a superhero or sidekick? And is Brazel a superhero friend, or an outcast that is secretly planning the overthrow of the Purpose Driven Cartel?

Whew. We’re sweating, too.

We give up.

Officially, we are now over a year behind in our attempt to bring you, dear reader, a concise synopsis and snarky look-back at our favorite podcast. Even with the uneven, stop-and-start schedule of Fields and Friends, that left gaps to gain with, we fell further and further behind.

Our intentions were pure honorable there, but our posts never were.

So, that’s it. We quit. We throw in the towel. We lay down the banana slugs.

We hereby declare podcastruptcy, because we have given up hope that we can catch up.

And with that…on to episode 78…

It was the most stunning example of a superior collegiate mascot I could imagine. It still is.

It’s the Banana Slug.

From the moment I knew I was taking this trip, I knew I too would soon own a University of California Santa Cruz Banana Slugs shirt. As of yesterday, I do.

The University of California System has some unique mascots, to be sure. The UCLA Bruins are awful well-known, but UC schools also have Aardvarks (Zot!), Gauchos (it’s an Argentine Cowboy), and Tritons – all at campuses I’ve seen in the last month. But the Banana Slug takes the cake for uniqueness, in my opinion.

Banana slugs are large, yellow slugs native to the Santa Cruz campus. You can read about them at Wikipedia. You can also read the interesting history of the fight to keep this noble creature as the symbol of UCSC.

So yesterday I made it to UC Santa Cruz’s woodsy, very “northern California” campus, hunting for a T-shirt. But not just that – I wanted to see an actual banana slug.

The problem is, I’m pretty afraid of slugs. Really, they’re probably the animal I’m most freaked out by. I don’t like their bodies. I don’t like the trails they figure it’s okay to leave behind. I sure get freaked out by their susceptibility to salt, which is just a really creepy way to die. I don’t like the way you walk out the back door and there are like twenty of them all over the sidewalk. (Maybe that’s only happened to me. When I was young and impressionable.)

But I searched and even prayed that I might see one of the little guys, because I’m really curious about animals – even those I hate. I figured that would be a nice little adventure in my exploration of UC Santa Cruz.

And lo and behold, as I was walking the campus, I actually saw one. So I took 42 pictures and let him crawl on my Red X that I take a pic of at each campus and even got up the guts to touch him. Yikes! Banana slug!

Click on the pictures to see ‘em big. Put your mouse over the pictures to see the captions.

Written from the Student Union at San Jose State University

Well.. I just love SLUGS. Do you know what we UC Students are called? Do you want to know what our emblem is? Tree? No.. Dolphins? No.. we are slugs, banana slugs !

I dont really know the history of that, but you might probably want to check wikipedia. It sure has tons of info. I just am in love with my life and so just cant help but rant about it ( I dont know why.. but I end up writing everything in points)

Now for some pics of my campus

Its B E A U T I F U L right !

1) Movie : Pulp fiction. John Travolta wears black throughout the movie except some scenes where he wears this shirt. Just makes me feel soo good. Ofcourse, I am a big fan of John Travolta and Quentin Tarantino. Ofcourse, I own a similar shirt !

2) I am finally at a place, finally where guys are a minority.. Yeah you heard me right MINORITY ! 56% girls to 44% guys. So, I guess the odds are finally good. Now thats more the reason why I should get started on the ‘Praising Girls’ blog entry !

3) I ended up getting sloshed like a week straight.. when there is free booze, a beach and an awessommee climate, tons of parties, you just cant expect anything else.

5) I sure am waiting for the rains !

These are the seasons of emotion and like the winds they rise and fall
This is the wonder of devotion – I seek the torch we all must hold.
This is the mystery of the quotient – Upon us all a little rain must fall.

I dont know why Led Zep wrote this, but I am for sure waiting for the rain ! Seems First Rain (Again, refer to wikipedia) is a sight to watch !

Edit : FYI, It rained yesterday !

8) Theres a beach on one side and valleys on the other side ( I just cant resist raving abt it !) The campus is sooo beautiful and biggg, in the middle of a once redwood forest.. Do check out the pics at the end !!

13) My lab has sensors which have motion detectors (I guess) and they automatically switch off the lights in the regions where there is no motion. Juss love that stuff when I walk through the long corridors, the lights get switched on one by one.

21) And yeah, I might be majoring in Game Designing. Seems the game industry is bigger than hollywood (I should write a blog on this next) .. Maybe. Lets see.

34) Finally for the academically inclined, Ira Pohl is a UCSC prof. Well Huffman was here, who else.. lots actually.. will update when I rmr.

Well, there are tons of other reasons as well. But I would sure recommend a visit to California for everyone who hasnt yet. It is the one of the most beautiful and happening places in the world. Its the place !