January 2007 Archives

I apologize for not writing about the final part of the Solvang trip we took two weeks ago. Just to refresh your memory (and mine), a couple of weekends ago, we drove down Highway 1, visited Hearst Castle, and reached Solvang, my favorite Danish town in California.

When we arrived, we checked into the hotel and then did a little wandering before it got too dark. To help visitors with poor memories, the town hangs bright red banners on the lampposts as reminders.

Walking around, I was struck by the number of wine tasting rooms. The last time I visited, I don't remember there being so many. They were everywhere. I have three theories about this...

1. I just wasn't very attentive the last time I visited
2. In the past few years, Denmark has grown extremely fond of wine.
3. Local wineries and the town are attempting to capitalize on Sideways.

At any rate, here is a photo of one of the few establishments in Solvang that wasn't a wine tasting room.

One of the reasons I love Solvang is the architecture. The timber framing, the thatched roofs, and the windmills all help to solidify the town's identity and heritage. I especially like the windmills. There are at least three in town. We passed this one on the way to dinner.

We ate at Meadows Restaurant where I tried a Danish smorgasbord, which included meatballs, sausages, potatoes, carrots, and more.

The next day, I got up early, ventured out, and grabbed a morning cup of coffee from Bulldog Cafe. It was so cold outside, one of the fountains down the street was still frozen.

Around midmorning, we ate brunch at my favorite restaurant in Solvang, Paula's Pancake House. They make delicious Danish pancakes. If you eat there, go early because the place fills up fast.

Afterwards, we visited Mission Santa Ines, which is on the edge of town.

Before leaving, we made a quick stop by Nojoqui Falls County Park, just a few miles south, which has a small waterfall at the end of a quarter-mile trail. In January, there is barely a trickle of water, but it didn't matter to me. All I cared about was stretching my legs a little. Even a short walk in nature is good for the soul.

After that, it was time to go. We hopped on Highway 101 and headed home.

Thanks to Peter Conrad, a local cartoonist (with a blog), San Jose appeared on today's episode of The Show with Ze Frank.

From this day forward, San Jose will no longer be best known as the home of the Sharks or the town mentioned in that Burt Bacharach song sung by Dionne Warwick. It won't even be best known for being the tenth largest city in the United States.

Wait, does anybody outside of San Jose know about that stat?

Anyway, from this day forward, the town that touts itself as the safest big city in the country will be best known for the giant inflatable duck that sits on top of the Children's Discovery Museum. And that's just how it should be.

Hockey teams lose, songs go out of style, rankings are unreliable, but a giant inflatable duck? That's something to make any town proud.

When I was a kid, my parents owned a huge, pale green station wagon. Before my dad traded in his Ford Maverick for a Chrysler Caravan, the station wagon was the family car and we would all pile into it whenever we visited my mom's parents in Santa Cruz or went on road trips.

What I remember most about that car (besides the fact that it was huge, pale green, and a station wagon) is that it had an eight-track tape deck. As soon as we lost radio reception, my mom would play one of three tapes she kept in the glove compartment: ABBA - Gold: Greatest Hits, Go West by Village People, or Grease - The Original Motion Picture Soundtrack.

For most of my childhood, I grew up believing my parents only owned three tapes. It wasn't until much later that I discovered the tapes in the car were just my mom's half of the collection. My dad's half was kept tucked away in a bookcase drawer in the living room. He had more than four dozen tapes by artists like Gladys Knight and the Pips, The Temptations, The Association, and The Lettermen.

To this day, I don't know why we never listened to my dad's tapes (in retrospect, I wish we had), but what I do know is that as a result, my mom's half of the collection had a monopoly on the car tape deck. And because of that, I have a love-hate relationship with the music and artists from those three albums.

Whenever I hear "In the Navy", I'm simultaneously drawn to it because of the happy car trip memories it recalls, but also repulsed by it because of the sheer number of times I've now heard the song in my life. It partially explains why I was tempted to buy The ABBA Generation by A*Teens when it first came out, but vehemently dislike Madonna's "Hung Up", which borrows heavily from the group's "Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!". It also begins to explain why I've been watching the BBC-produced Grease: You're The One That I Want on television after so many years of actively avoiding anything related to the musical or the movie.

For those who don't know, the show is an American Idol imitation, but instead of choosing who will be the next Idol, America gets to choose who will play the lead roles of Sandy and Danny in an upcoming Broadway production of Grease.

There is nothing extraordinary about the show to merit watching it every week other than the fact that the music is so ingrained in me that it almost seems as though I would be denying who I am if I didn't watch it.

Okay, that's not true, but that's the line of reasoning I'm going to use the next time someone gives me a disapproving look when I mention the show. It's your typical blame-the-parents defense and it fits perfectly with one of my favorite quotes from A Mighty Wind: "There was abuse in my family, but it was mostly musical in nature."

Last night was a two-hour episode of the show. After three weeks of hearing David Ian, the obligatory British judge on three-judge panel, tell contestants, "You [long pause] are not Sandy/Danny" or "You [longer pause] are the one that we want", the field of contestants has been narrowed down to fourteen finalists - seven Sandys and seven Dannys. From this point forward, the Sandy and Danny receiving the least number of votes each week is eliminated.

Right now, I'm rooting for Max (nicknamed "Slacker Danny"). He seems to be the underdog of the bunch. He has the talent, especially the vocal talent, but the judges keep harping on his looks. Of the women, none of them really stand out, but if I were to root for one, I would probably go with Ashley S. ("Ballerina Sandy") because her dance experience sets her apart.

Last week, there was a bizarre story in the news about Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick getting caught at the Miami Airport with weed hidden in the bottled water he was carrying. After he surrendered the water at the security checkpoint, screeners discovered the bottle had a secret compartment that "had a dark residue and a pungent odor of marijuana".

Of all places, I first heard about this story on Saturday Night Live. Weekend Update did a hilarious segment called "Really!?! with Seth & Amy" that skewered the quarterback.

"And also, I don't know if you've heard, but you can't bring bottled water past security anymore. So you hid your weed, which is not allowed on a plane, in another thing that is not allowed on a plane. That's like hiding your weed in a barrel of a gun or in the mouth of an endangered species."

When it first aired, I thought it was the funniest bit of the entire show, but there was a development in the story this week that has dampened that opinion.

The police tested the water bottle for drugs and the test came back negative, so no charges will be filed against Vick. That's good news, but that news seems to have taken some of the punch out of the segment. It's still funny, but just not as funny as when the premise was true. Now when I watch it, instead of laughing out loud, I'm wondering if the show will apologize to Vick.

With the exception of "Lazy Sunday" and "A Special Christmas Box", SNL hasn't had a lot of truly funny moments lately (some people measure lately in years). I thought Seth and Amy's bit had potential to be one of those moments and possibly a sign of a comedy rebirth for the show.

But it seems the show hasn't done enough to please the comedy gods. One wonders what the show has to do to regain their good graces for it seems the comedy gods are a fickle bunch.

I was hoping to avoid making an announcement so soon, but recent statements by people like Barack, Hillary, Bill (Richardson, not O'Reilly), and Sam (Brownback, not I Am) have forced my hand. They have also shown me that it's never too early to declare one's intentions.

As none of you may know, I have been thinking hard about my plans to run for president. I certainly didn't expect to find myself in this position three minutes ago, but here I am and as Senator Brownback might say: I have decided, after considerable consideration, to consider a bid for the nomination for presidency.

That is why I wanted to tell you first that I will be creating a Preliminary David for President in 2016 Proto-Exploratory Committee that will determine the feasibility of forming a reassessment committee in four years to evaluate the practicality of forming a presidential exploratory committee in January of 2015.

For the next several years, I will be exploring, assessing, and reassessing how exploratory committees (and possibly a presidential campaign) might play a role in bringing our country together. Then, on December 5th, 2015, in front of the entrance to Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln (if and when it returns to Disneyland), in my home state of California, I will share my plans with everyone.

To fund this extraordinary effort, I won't be asking for traditional contributions. Instead, I plan to follow - some might say copy - the (RED) business model. I intend to release a merchandise line, (vid), that will be specifically targeted to meet the existing needs of consumers.

Soon, you will be able to buy (things)^vid like bottled water, digital camera memory, and gift cards with the slogan "Vote for Da(vid)" on them. There will also be a line of Post-it note yellow apparel with uplifting words on them like Vi(vid), A(vid), Undi(vid)ed, Di(vid)ends (monogrammed on suits, ties, and socks for business professionals), and Veni (vid)i Vici. The last one isn't a very presidential sentiment, but it's my favorite of the bunch and it's sure to be a winner. In fact, when you buy (things)^vid, we can all be (winners)^vid.

In the meantime, I want to thank you for your time, your suggestions, and most of all, your patience. Eight years may seem like a long time, but it's right around the corner. In today's world, announcing one's candidacy 22 months before a general election may not be too early; it may actually be too late. It takes a person of true vision to make such an announcement 118 months in advance.

I look forward to continuing our conversation in the decade to come.

According to this Mercury News article, annual attendance at Yosemite National Park is at a sixteen-year low. Last year, only 3.4 million people visited the park (roughly 9,300 people per day).

Personally (and environmentally), that's great news. Fewer visitors mean less traffic getting there, shorter lines getting in, less traffic in the valley, less people in the village, and less hikers on the trails. All of that translates into a more peaceful, relaxing, and enjoyable experience. Knowing Yosemite has fewer visitors makes me want to visit it more often.

For the park and the National Park Service, fewer visitors mean fewer dollars. That could mean every visit I make in the future could cost more. To cover operating expenses, the park's concessionaire could raise lodging rates, camping fees, and prices for food and souvenirs. To cover budget shortfalls for infrastructure and facility improvements, the park could raise entrance fees.

The higher entrance fees wouldn't affect me this year, since I have a National Parks Pass (NPP) valid through the end of December, but I'll be paying more when I renew next year because the $50 NPP has been discontinued and replaced by the $80 America the Beautiful Pass beginning this month.

Despite potentially higher prices, I can't wait to return to Yosemite, hopefully in the next month or two, while there's snow and Badger Pass is open. I haven't used my pass once this year and it's burning a hole in my pocket. I'm also hoping to make another visit to Yosemite's high country later this year.

If you have a free weekend, I would encourage all of you to visit the park, too, and take advantage of the smaller crowds. And if you aren't within driving distance of Yosemite, then visit park nearest you because the decline in attendance isn't unique to Yosemite; it's a trend affecting the entire national park system.

Yesterday, I awoke with an unexplainable desire to feel a connection with humanity. I felt an overwhelming need to be part of something bigger than myself. I felt a hunger for something filled with meaning, passion, and tradition.

I wracked my brain, but couldn't think of what could possibly fulfill those needs. I looked out the window at the clouds that blocked the sun. I prayed for a sign, some clue, to reveal itself.

Then, just as I was beginning to lose all hope, I remembered what day of the week it was. It was Sunday. And like a miracle, the answer to my prayers came to me as the clouds parted to reveal a stream of golden light on the shaded land.

It was obvious. I needed some football.

A little voice in my head (possibly my conscience) kept whispering that I had intercepted the wrong answer, but I was already off and running with the answer I had and wasn't about to turn back.

Of course, it was my luck that by the time the first conference title game began (between New Orleans and Chicago), I was nowhere near a television or a radio. I was near a computer with internet access, though, so I followed the game using Yahoo! GameChannel.

If you've never experienced Yahoo! GameChannel for football, I'll try to describe it to you. It's like being right there at the game, except you can't see the players or hear the crowd, but you have a front row seat with a great view of the scoreboard and nothing else.

On the bright side, the scoreboard is pretty spiffy. It displays the overall score, the points scored by quarters, possession (always important), downs, yards-to-go, time remaining, individual stats, team stats, scoring log, and league leaders (just in case you got bored of looking at the other numbers). It also has a bird's eye view of the field (grass, striping, and all), with a yellow stripe indicating the first down line and a blue stripe indicating the line of scrimmage, with an animated blue arrow appearing on the field after each play to show the distance gained or lost by the offense.

It was in this way that I was able to share the experience of the game with fans watching from the stands, from the comfort of home or from the comfort of the local sports bar.

Since I haven't really been following the NFL season, I wasn't rooting for either team. I understood the Saints were having a miraculous season and they were the Cinderella team, so it was somewhat disappointing to see them lose to the Bears. More accurately, it was somewhat disappointing to see the number under New Orleans finish smaller than the number under Chicago.

It was also my luck that by the time the second conference title game was underway (between New England and Indianapolis), I was nowhere near a television with proper reception and had already stared too long at the computer screen. I ended up following the game on the radio, which still provides a more intimate game experience than the web.

I must admit I was rooting for the Patriots, partly because of their recent success (3 Super Bowls in the last 6 years) and partly because Tom Brady, the quarterback, is a local guy (San Mateo is relatively local). So it was disheartening to hear the Patriots crumble in the second half after they had marched all over the Colts in the first half. It was especially agonizing when New England's last drive down the field came to an abrupt halt with an interception and only sixteen seconds remaining in the game.

You can probably imagine the amount of praying going on across the country and especially in the stadium during those last intense minutes of the game. For a few brief seconds, Indianapolis must have been the most religious city in the world. In the end, the football gods answered the prayers of the Colts and their fans.

So, now it's the Colts and the Bears competing in the Super Bowl in two weeks, which is probably right around the time when I will awaken with another desire to feel a deep connection with the rest of humanity. Only the next time it happens, I'm making sure I'm sitting in front of a television carrying the game.

The Caucus, a political blog produced by The New York Times, just posted the latest list of best selling political books. I mention it because it seems to be one of the few lists I've come across recently that includes titles of books I've actually read, which is something special indeed considering I somehow avoided reading the ten best books of 2006 and ninety-nine of the hundred notable books of last year.

Of the fifteen political books listed, I've read two - State of Denial by Bob Woodward (No. 15) and Palestine Peace Not Apartheid by Jimmy Carter (No. 3), which I just finished this morning.

I haven't gotten to The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama (No. 1) yet, but I will. It's next in the stack of unread books I own. I even removed its dust jacket in preparation for some heavy handling.

By the way, did you know there is a Wikipedia entry about dust jackets? It links to a site with a short article about their history.

Anyway, other books on the list that I hope to read this year include Culture Warrior by Bill O’Reilly, The World is Flat by Thomas L. Friedman (No. 5), Imperial Life In The Emerald City by Rajiv Chandrasekaran (No. 8), and Fiasco by Thomas E. Ricks (No. 10).

For some people, they snap out of their morning commute mentality as soon as they reach the parking garage or the bus stop. Once they have their feet on the ground, they take a deep breath, stretch, and release the stress caused by sitting in traffic or being cut off or listening to two fellow passengers act out the following scene...

(Ermalinda, an old woman wearing thick glasses, a floral patterned dress and three sweaters, sits on one of the benches, near the front of the bus, reserved for the elderly or disabled. Roberto, a young man wearing baggy pants, a red hoodie, and a camouflaged jacket, sits in the reserved bench across from her; his only obvious disabilities being a permanent slouch and a bad case of facial hair.)

Ermalinda: Do you have a watch?
Roberto: Huh?
Ermalinda: A watch.
Roberto: A watch?
Ermalinda: Yes.
Roberto: No.
Ermalinda: Oh.
Roberto: -
Ermalinda: Do you know what time it is?
Roberto: Uh, no, but I think it shows it up there.

(He points at the electronic sign hanging above them and scrolling the name of the next stop, the date, and the time in bright red text. They both look at the time (7:11 AM) as it scrolls across the screen.)

Ermalinda: I can't see so well. What did it say?
Roberto: Huh?
Ermalinda: The sign. What time did it say?
Roberto: Oh, 7:18.
Ermalinda: Are you sure?
Roberto: Uh, yeah, no, wait...

(They wait in silence as the sign cycles through and shows the time again.)

Roberto: (laughs with embarrassment) I'm sorry. I misread it.
Ermalinda: Ah.
Roberto: It's 7:15.

For other people, they don't snap out of that negative commute-induced state of mind until they're firmly planted at their desks. They're the ones you see charging down the sidewalk or down the parking garage stairs with determination. They're the ones who look like they wouldn't hesitate to mow you down if you had the misfortune of walking in front of them. They're very much like the man I shared the elevator with this morning.

Five of us entered the elevator. He was the first one in and the first to press the button for his floor - one of the upper ones. While the rest of us were still selecting our floors, he was already pressing the button to close the doors.

The elevator car started moving. I noticed immediately that I would be the fourth stop and he would be the fifth and final. It would have been nice if it had been the other way around.

As soon as the doors opened for the first person and she stepped out, he pushed the close button and dropped his hand to his side. He did the same thing for the second person, but after the third person, he kept his finger hovering over the panel.

I couldn't help but think that if it were possible, he would have kept the doors closed until we reached his floor. As it was, I was growing nervous that he would push the button before I had a chance to exit the lift. A scene from an old James Bond movie (Timothy Dalton as 007) flickered in my mind - the scene where a poor fellow was killed by sliding doors rigged to slice victims in half when they shut.

Luckily, I escaped from the elevator unscathed and intact. I think the only thing that saved me was the fact that I had inched my way to the front of the car as it approached my floor and then had dived headfirst through the opening as the doors parted. Upon reflection, I probably overreacted, but in the moment, it seemed like the only practical way out.

It was only after I had picked myself up off the floor and had taken a few deep breaths to lower my heart rate that the stress once again dissipated and I regained my previous positive frame of mind.

Since I doubt Mr. Button-Pusher will ever experience an epiphany and leave his morning commute mentality in his car, I can only hope to never have to share another elevator with him again.

Benjamin Franklin was born on this day in 1706. In honor of his 301st birthday, here is the list of thirteen virtues Franklin created and tried to follow every day of his life. They include:

1. Temperance: Eat not to dullness and drink not to elevation.
2. Silence: Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself. Avoid trifling conversation.
3. Order: Let all your things have their places. Let each part of your business have its time.
4. Resolution: Resolve to perform what you ought. Perform without fail what you resolve.
5. Frugality: Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself: i.e. Waste nothing.
6. Industry: Lose no time. Be always employed in something useful. Cut off all unnecessary actions.
7. Sincerity: Use no hurtful deceit. Think innocently and justly; and, if you speak, speak accordingly.
8. Justice: Wrong none, by doing injuries or omitting the benefits that are your duty.
9. Moderation: Avoid extremes. Forebear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.
10. Cleanliness: Tolerate no uncleanness in body, clothes or habitation.
11. Chastity: Rarely use venery but for health or offspring; Never to dullness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's peace or reputation.
12. Tranquility: Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents common or unavoidable.
13. Humility: Imitate Jesus and Socrates.

When I first read his autobiography a couple of years ago, I copied the list of virtues into my PDA for handy reference and gradually forgot about them. I don't refer to them as often or adhere to them as strictly as I should or as I imagine Franklin did, but I will use the great man's birthday as a reason to resolve myself to more actively practice them from this day forward.

Hearst Castle in San Simeon offers five guided tours. They are:

1. An introductory tour for first time visitors,
2. a more in depth tour of the upper floors in the main house,
3. a tour of the main house's north wing and one of the three guest houses,
4. a tour of the gardens and grounds,
5. and an evening tour.

We had taken Tour 1 two years ago, so it only seemed natural to take Tour 2 this time around.

During the off-season, the price per adult is $20. The tour lasts approximately 70 minutes, not including the bus ride to and from the castle.

We arrived at the visitor center shortly after eleven o'clock on Saturday morning. When I went up to the ticket booth, I fully expected the woman behind the counter to tell me we would have to wait until noon for the next available tour. (Buses for Tour 2 leave on the hour and twenty minutes after the hour.)

She surprised me when she said, "We have two tickets left for the 11:20 tour. If you can run, well, not run, but walk quickly, they're yours."

I took them without hesitation. As she was waiting for the tickets to print, she said, as though taking me into her confidence, "You know, I'm glad you got these. I don't have any other Tour 2s for the rest of the day."

I thanked her, took the tickets she passed through the window slot, and was just about to thank her again, when she shooed me away by saying, "Go now, through those doors and to the left. Hurry!"

As I said, Tour 2 takes visitors through the upper floors of the castle, also known as Casa Grande, where numerous guest quarters, Hearst's bedroom, and two libraries are located.

The tour began where I believe all of the tours begin - at the Neptune Pool. The pool is usually a brilliant blue, but it was white and empty the day we were there so they could repair a severe leak at the shallow end of the pool (the far end in the photo)...

From the pool, we entered the house...

Of the various guest quarters we saw, my favorite was the Doge's Suite. This is one of the walls in the sitting room...

As we were told repeatedly, the purpose of Hearst Castle was to display the art William Randolph Hearst had collected. In his day, he had earned the reputation and the nickname of The Great Accumulator and it was obvious why. He accumulated everything, not just paintings and statues, but also doors, door frames, door knockers, rugs, walls, and more. He especially liked to collect ceilings...

The upper floors contained two libraries. The larger one (with 4,100 volumes) was available to Hearst's guests...

The other, the gothic study across from his bedroom (holding 3,800 volumes) was for his personal and private use...

I think a dream of mine would be to spend a morning in his study - sitting, drinking coffee, and reading one of the thousands of books in his collection.

I wonder how much that would cost. Let's do some quick math - $20 per person, 12 people per tour, 2 tours per bus ride, 2 bus rides per hour, 2 hours of tours before noon, and tack on a 50% fudge factor. That equals $2,880.

Okay, I might have to put that dream on hold for the time being.

Anyway, let's continue to the last two stops on the tour. After leaving the upper floors, we took a quick peek at the modern kitchen (modern for the 1930s, that is)...

And finished our journey at the Roman Pool, another stop common to most of the tours, I believe...

Once back at the visitor center, we stopped at the gift shop, where I bought an illustrated biography of Hearst, just to learn a little more about the man.

Afterwards, we made a quick detour at Cambria for lunch at The French Corner Bakery, which makes inexpensive, but mouthwatering sandwiches. From there, we didn't stop until we reached Solvang.

Taking advantage of the sunny weather, we got away to Solvang, California this holiday weekend. Instead of driving directly to our destination using Highway 101, we decided to take the more scenic Highway 1 and stop at Hearst Castle in San Simeon along the way before completing our journey.

We left home just before eight on Saturday morning. The sun was out, but hadn't been out long enough to warm anything up. According to the car's temperature gauge, it was in the low to mid-twenties outside.

Traffic was light and grew lighter the further south we went. Once we passed Carmel, we hardly saw anyone else on the road. We saw a few early bird photographers at Carmel River State Beach seeking the perfect shot...

We also saw a few seagulls, but I suspect they were the late risers in the flock. The rest had already flown to the next feeding spot...

Unlike 101, where the point is to get to wherever one needs to be going as fast as possible, the point of Highway 1 is to stop frequently and take plenty of photos, which is what we did.

Every time we saw a uniquely breathtaking view and a turnout, we stopped and took a picture. I now have dozens of nearly identical "uniquely breathtaking" shots of California's central coast and the Pacific Ocean.

Here are a few of the photos I snapped. I wasn't particularly good about noting where I was when I took them, so these may be photos of Point Sur, Salmon Creek, and Ragged Point or they may not...

As we got closer to San Simeon, the traffic grew heavier. Just beyond Piedras Blancas Lighthouse, we pulled over to view the elephant seals. We weren't alone. There was a whole crowd of onlookers, but the number of people didn't compare to the number of elephant seals laying on the beach.

According to one of the nice docents from Friends of the Elephant Seal, the rookery (the term for a group of seals) at our end of the bluff was made up mostly of females and pups.

There were some males present, but most wouldn't be arriving until next week. That's when the beaches would become noisy with activity. In the meantime, the seals were quietly spending their time trying to stay cool (by waving their fins and throwing sand on themselves) in this hot (30 to 40-degree) weather.

Here are two shots of the rookery...

The wind and the cold finally chased us from the beach and we continued on to Hearst Castle, which is only five minutes down the road. We arrived at the visitor center a few minutes after eleven and I will expand on that bit of the trip in the next entry.

I just wanted to take a moment to note how happy I am that Cal Ripken Jr. and Tony Gywnn will be inducted into Baseball's Hall of Fame this year. It's hard to imagine two more deserving players, which must have been the feeling shared by the members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America who voted. Of the 545 ballots cast, Ripken received 537 votes - 128 more than the required minimum for induction. Gwynn received five votes less than Ripken.

Growing up, I didn't pay much attention to Ripken. I knew he was chasing Lou Gehrig's consecutive game record, but didn't know much else beyond that. Being a fan of the National League and the Giants, Baltimore just wasn't on my radar.

I was more aware of Tony Gwynn. He played for the San Diego Padres after all. I just remember being mesmerized whenever he came to the plate. To see the man hit was a joy. It's the same feeling I get today when I see Ichiro Suzuki hit. Although Gwynn's statistics say he failed to reach base six times out ten, it always seemed like he managed to get on when I watched him.

I most remember rooting for Gwynn in 1994, when he came so very close to becoming the first player since Ted Williams to hit .400 in a season. That was the year of the strike that shortened the season and ruined his chances at the elusive mark. He finished with a still amazing .394.

Oddly enough, I first read about Ripken's and Gwynn's election in a New York Times article (registration required) with the headline, "Steroid Cloud Stops McGwire From Entering Hall". It's funny that more attention was given to how many votes Mark McGwire received (or didn't receive) due to his suspected steroid use than to the two men who actually made it into the Hall of Fame. It's also funny that most of the television footage I've seen of Gwynn or Ripken has been of them answering questions about McGwire or steroids.

If the media is going to focus on players who didn't make it in, reporters shouldn't focus on McGwire, who is still eligible for induction next year (he received more than the 5% needed to remain eligible). No, they should focus instead on the poor souls who didn't make the cut and will never get another chance, like McGwire's old Bash Brother, Jose Canseco.

So, to make it up to the players overlooked by the voting members of the association and the media, here is a list to commemorate those who will never have another shot at Cooperstown. They include:

• Albert Belle
• Dante Bichette
• Bobby Bonilla
• Scott Brosius
• Jay Buhner
• Ken Caminiti
• Eric Davis
• Tony Fernandez
• Orel Hershiser
• Wally Joyner
• Paul O'Neill
• Bret Saberhagen
• Devon White
• Bobby Witt

om•e•let also om•e•lette (om'lit) n. 1. A dish consisting of beaten eggs fried over high heat until set, often served folded in half over a savory filling such as cheese or mushrooms. 2. Political support or currency. 3. Iraq.

In the last two days, I've read two non-culinary articles in the San Francisco Chronicle that mention omelets.

The first article ran yesterday and discussed Arnold's State of the State address. The reporter spoke with Terry Connelly, a dean of business at a local university. Here's the relevant excerpt...

The governor, he said, is "offering a grand bargain against the political encampments of the past" by effectively thumbing his nose at the political axiom -- one adhered to by the Bush administration -- that an elected official should "never, never anger your base."

Schwarzenegger "has been there and done that. He'll say, 'I played to the base with poorly drafted stuff, and that ain't the way you make an omelet,' " Connelly said. "You make an omelet by breaking some eggs -- and you have to move past the comfort zone politically."

I'm not sure, but I believe the omelet, in this case, is meant to represent political support or currency. I'm assuming "poorly drafted stuff" would be like using rotten eggs or an inferior egg substitute. As for the eggs themselves, I haven't a clue as to what they symbolize, but apparently they need to be broken outside of the comfort zone, which could be just the pan or maybe the entire kitchen, depending on one's omelet abilities.

The second article, a piece about Bush's "new" plan for American involvement in Iraq, ran this morning. Here's the pertinent sentence...

Rep. Tom Lantos, D-San Mateo, said, "It's too late to unscramble the omelet'' of four years of mistakes in Iraq.

Doing anything to an omelet after four years, whether it be unscrambling, eating, or touching it, would sound a bit on the late side. Then again, in a related article I found on the web, a Michigan State University professor was quoted as saying, "The United States has unscrambled the omelet, and it's very difficult now to put it back together once again."

So, it might not be too late to unscramble the Iraq Mistake Omelet after all. Reassembling it could be an issue though. Mistake, I'm guessing, must be a type of mushroom, like shiitake. If it is, this omelet must be packed with mushrooms.

And stretching the poor metaphor even further, Bush seems to believe the only way to fix the troublesome omelet is with a surge of cheese (or a cheese escalation, as the Democrats would say).

Just for fun, I did a little digging around for any other mention of Iraq and omelets. The most amusing find was this Tom Toles political cartoon that appeared in the Washington Post last year...

All this talk of omelets leaves me feeling hungry. It also leaves me wondering when and where the next political omelet will appear. Maybe I should keep an eye out for it.

Last night, Arnold Schwarzenegger, the governor of California, gave his State of the State address. If you missed it, you can watch the video or read the transcript.

In the address, the governor outlined an ambitious, "post-partisan" agenda. In other words, he presented an agenda with something for everyone to dislike.

By the way, I've been searching the web for the term "post-partisanship" and found the definition in the inaugural speech the governor gave last Friday...

Post-partisanship is not simply Republicans and Democrats each bringing their proposals to the table and working out differences. Post-partisanship is Republicans and Democrats actively giving birth to new ideas together. I believe it would promote a new centrism and a new trust in our political system.

Apparently, between Friday and Tuesday, Republicans and Democrats got busy and gave birth to all sorts of centrist ideas. Like a proud father, Arnold showed us snapshots of the cuddly proposals that resulted from all of that post-partisan love. They included:

• establishing a Low Carbon Fueld Standard to reduce fossil fuel use and greenhouse gas emissions
• implementing his Global Warming Solutions Act
• investing an additional $43.3 billion in correction facilities, education, disaster preparedness, and transportation
• reforming the health care system to provide coverage for all Californians
• changing the way the geographic boundaries of legislative districts are drawn

Of course, as we all know, cute proposals delivered during speeches often grow up to be ugly pieces of legislation or slacker bills that don't apply themselves and fail to reach their full potential.

For all of his ideas and optimism and flowery language (he compared California to ancient city-states like Athens and Sparta, for goodness sake), it would be nice to see at least some portion of Schwarzenegger's vision of the state's future become reality, but he faces tough opposition, primarily from members of his own party.

He may be post-partisan, his agenda may be post-partisan, and even the public may be post-partisan, but I have a feeling his fellow politicians are far from getting past their partisanship.

What follows is the list of the books I read in 2006. Of the 52 listed, 34 were fiction and 18 were nonfiction. 44 were written by men, 8 were written by women, and none were written by ferrets. Who were the hot authors to read in 2006? Terry Pratchett (5), Jasper Fforde (5), George MacDonald Fraser (4), and P.G. Wodehouse (3). But enough statistics, let's get to the list...

1. The Subtle Knife by Philip Pullman
2. The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman
3. Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell
4. The Ring of the Nibelung by Richard Wagner/Andrew Porter
5. C.S. Lewis: A Biography by A.N. Wilson
6. Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained by John Milton
7. Shopgirl by Steve Martin
8. The Pleasure of My Company by Steve Martin
9. The Pilgrim's Regress by C.S. Lewis
10. Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris
11. The Partly Cloudy Patriot by Sarah Vowell
12. Had Enough? by James Carville
13. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
14. Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett
15. A Preface to Paradise Lost by C.S. Lewis
16. Jingo by Terry Pratchett
17. Wedding of the Waters by Peter L. Bernstein
18. Misunderstimated by Bill Sammon
19. The Fifth Elephant by Terry Pratchett
20. Quicksilver by Neil Stephenson
21. Jefferson's Second Revolution by Susan Dunn
22. Flashman on the March by George MacDonald Fraser
23. The Last Assassin by Barry Eisler
24. Fantasyland by Sam Walker
25. Flashman by George MacDonald Fraser
26. Royal Flash by George MacDonald Fraser
27. Generation Me by Jean Twenge
28. The Killer Angels by Michael Shaara
29. The Life of David by Robert Pinsky
30. Upon the Altar of the Nation by Harry S. Stout
31. The Big Over Easy by Jasper Fforde
32. Flash for Freedom by George MacDonald Fraser
33. Team of Rivals by Doris Kearns Goodwin
34. Lost in a Good Book by Jasper Fforde
35. Call Each River Jordan by Owen Parry
36. The Well of Lost Plots by Jasper Fforde
37. State of Denial by Bob Woodward
38. Homegrown Democrat by Garrison Keillor
39. The Eyre Affair by Jasper Fforde
40. American Gospel by Jon Meacham
41. Big Money by P.G. Wodehouse
42. Common Sense by Thomas Paine
43. The Truth About Diamonds by Nicole Richie
44. Bold Sons of Erin by Owen Parry
45. Wintersmith by Terry Pratchett
46. Mike and Psmith by P.G. Wodehouse
47. Something Rotten by Jasper Fforde
48. Blandings Castle by P.G. Wodehouse
49. A Spell For Chameleon by Piers Anthony
50. At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon
51. The Source of Magic by Piers Anthony
52. The Truth by Terry Pratchett

When I first heard the rumors that the Giants might acquire Barry Zito, I dismissed the buzz as wishful thinking. True, Jason Schmidt's departure (oh, why couldn't it have been Armando Benitez instead?) left the team in dire need of a solid starting pitcher, but I couldn't picture San Francisco paying big bucks to acquire one.

The news that Brian Sabean had signed Zito to a seven-year, 126-million-dollar contract came as a shock. Had they really signed the top free agent on the market? And had they really thrown that much money at him for that many years?

Seven years is a long time, especially in baseball, and the length of the deal is one of the many reasons why some believe the signing doesn't make any sense considering Zito is 28 and already declining (so they say).

Then again, considering the other Giants acquisitions - Rich Aurilia (35), Ryan Klesko (35), Bengie Molina (32), and Dave Roberts (34) - and the team's average age of 29, Zito is actually an injection of youth (a minor one, admittedly, but every little bit helps).

On their 40-man roster, 10 players are now over 34 and 2 of those are nearly 40 (Tim Worrell and Omar Visquel). If the upward trend continues, the team will have to change sponsors and rename the stadium Sunset Park & Gardens at Retirement Cove.

A quick aside: With the exception of Rich Aurilia, a guy I was sad to see leave three years ago, all of the team's offseason moves have been less than impressive. It doesn't seem like the team is serious about rebuilding or contending this year. Otherwise, management would have focused on obtaining fresh talent instead of old veterans.

At any rate, I was in denial of the Zito deal and refused to believe the news until I saw him donning the black cap and holding up his new jersey with the No. 75 sewn on the back.

I like Zito. He's a good pitcher who projects a nice guy vibe with a goofy edge. His off-the-field hobbies (guitar, surfing, and photography) are well-documented and make him seem down-to-earth and relatable. It's easy to feel a connection with him. He actually seems like a marquee player fans can rally around without reservations or apologies, a refreshing change from recent years.

Speaking of which, the Giants have yet to sign a contract with Barry Bonds for the upcoming season. His name is conspicuously missing from the team's active roster. Personally, I wouldn't shed a tear if it remained missing. How nice would it be if San Francisco could divest itself of Bonds once and for all? Washing their hands of him now would give the cleaning crew enough time to decontaminate the clubhouse before the new season begins.

The way I see it, the Giants didn't spend $126 million to acquire a new pitcher. They spent $126 million to acquire a new face to represent the team and got a pitcher as a bonus. The team badly needed to overhaul its image and restore the reputation the other Barry had damaged. To me, it makes perfect sense to let old No. 25 go. Why hold on to the taint of steroids? Why pay $20 million to keep the stigma and suspicion hovering over the team?

The likelihood of the Giants dismissing Bonds is remote, so we'll likely see him patrolling left field this season. It's a shame, too, because I'd much rather see Ryan Klesko playing that position regularly and have Rich Aurilia playing first base permanently.

At least in the short term, Barry Zito is a good addition to the Giants. He brings a fine pitching arm and a positive image with him - two things the team truly needs. I'll be rooting for him and I hope to make it to the park at least once this year to see him take the mound.

On my way to work Friday morning, I noticed a new cafe in downtown San Jose. It's called Maui Wowi Hawaiian and it's located on First Street, near San Fernando Street. It's right next to Dog House Gourmet Hot Dogs, a place I wrote about last June.

It should be noted that Maui Wowi Hawaiian is a franchise with headquarters in Greenwood Village, Colorado, on the outskirts of Denver, a place better known for its blizzards than its Aloha spirit. I wonder how the decision to base their operations there was made...

Founder #1: I just found a great place to set up our office. It's centrally located and cheap!
Founder #2: Excellent! Somewhere near the beach, right? Just in case we want to get in some surfing before work?
Founder #1: Well, not exactly, but it shouldn't be hard getting in some form of outdoor recreation if we wanted.
Founder #2: Oh, well, how about a view of the ocean at least?
Founder #1: Well, not exactly, but we have a great view of the mountains.
Founder #2: Ah, Haleakala!
Founder #1: Something like that.
Founder #2: Cool. So when can I see the new office. Later this afternoon?
Founder #1: Uh, sure, we just have to, uh, well, buy plane tickets first.
Founder #2: Why plane tickets? The island isn't that big. And I thought you said it was centrally located.
Founder #1: It is, in a manner of speaking.
Founder #2: What?
Founder #1: Look, when you said you wanted something in our price range, I had to widen the net, in a manner of speaking, which meant looking at the mainland, too.
Founder #2: Oh, you mean California? San Francisco? I'm not a fan of the fog, but...
Founder #1: Further east.
Founder #2 Nevada? Las Vegas? At least it's warmer and there's gambling and it is the ninth island, but...
Founder #1: Colorado.
Founder #2: Colorado?! But... but Colorado is like the opposite of Hawaii!
Founder #1: Ha ha. Don't be silly. So, did you want an aisle or window seat?
Founder #2: I don't think any of my sandals can handle the snow. I don't think I even own a jacket... or gloves.

Anyway, despite the odd location of its headquarters and its ridiculous rhyming name, I made a mental note to give Maui Wowi a try later in the day.

When I returned that afternoon, the first things I noticed upon entering the cafe were the high lime green walls. Then my eyes were drawn to the island-themed furniture and interior decorating. The sounds of Hawaiian slack key guitars filled the air. It was enough to momentarily transport me to a white sandy beach thousands of miles away. The employees greeted me with a chorus of exuberant (and embarrassing) alohas.

Instead of trying one of the four special mochas on the menu, like the Maui Wowi Coco Loco Mocha, I played it safe with the easier-to-say Maui Wowi Latte, which is like a regular latte except it's made with Kona espresso. The drink was good, but also expensive ($3.75 for 16 ounces).

Since the place does combine two of my favorite things - coffee and Hawaii, I'll have to give it another try. Next time, though, I'm ordering plain Kona coffee so as not to drain my wallet.

While others were blitzing 2007 and tackling their resolutions (or getting blitzed and tackling their hangovers), I was being sacked by my sinuses. My offensive line was overwhelmed by defensive tackle Max I. Llary and defensive guard Ethan Moidal. And in a bit of nasal irony, I think it was the nose guard who actually took me down well behind the line of scrimmage. Don't quote me on that though. My memory of the play is still hazy. One moment I was on the field with the football, the next moment I was on the sideline with a bottle of Advil.

The previous paragraph is the result of resting in front of the television and watching a few college football games while on decongestants. By the way, did you see Boise State's performance over Oklahoma in the Fiesta Bowl? It was amazing.

The time between Christmas and New Year's Day was spent recuperating. I got carried away playing Lego Star Wars on the iMac. I finished my 52nd book on New Year's Eve (The Truth by Terry Pratchett). I also watched the second season of Jeeves and Wooster, Walk the Line and Superman Returns.

I did manage to get out of the house a few times during the winter break. I hiked in Castle Rock this past Saturday and hung out in downtown Los Gatos on more than one occasion. The running around probably didn't help me in the long run, but it felt good to get out of the house at the time.

With any luck (and some actual rest), my sinuses will recover over the next few days so I can begin my own blitz on the new year, tackle some of the resolutions I've made for 2007, and regain some of the lost yardage.