The Quake Quack: Stand back, I'm about to Science.

Jim Berkland, retired geologist and full time crackpot is calling for a massive earthquake to hit the Los Angeles area today. He has been reprimanded in the past for potentially inciting panic in the populous by doing similar things. Granted, he apparently successfully predicted the "World Series" quake of 1989 where a 6.9 magnitude quake rocked the area surrounding San Fransisco.

Berkland made an appearance two nights back on the least responsible network on the airwaves today, Fox News:

I love how the report is wrapped up with, "He's a pretty good geologist". A ringing endorsement for the only side of the story presented as fact. Is there another side? NOW THAT'S FAIR AND BALANCED (their moto)!!!

I think that the scientists and geologists at the USGS would beg to differ. Geologists world wide have been working on earthquake prediction for decades and have failed to come up with reliable method yet Berkland claims he has the key!

Here is the basis of his claim:

1.) The moon's gravitational pull exerts force on the Earth's plates influencing shifts and creating quakes. Alright, the moon does do this. It exerts forces on the oceans as well causing tides etc. Let's keep in mind that the Earth does the same to the moon only with much more gravitational force (ten million times).

2.) This same magnetic force causes strange animal behavior such as beaching whales, dogs running away from home, homing pigeons getting lost and sardines dieing off. He offers no explanation for the same chance happenings when they occur without being coupled with an earthquake. He continues to cite the large Sardine die off in Redondo beach as evidence of the impending quake as a beaching or suicidal move on the fish's part though Marine Biologists are now saying it is most likely due to an algae bloom 12 miles of the coast of Santa Monica. He also admits to thinking there was no correlation between pets running away from home until in retrospect he noticed his own cat had run away a week prior to the world series quake.

3.)THUS, if the moon is full and your dog runs away, there's probably an earthquake coming.

Feel free to listen to his side of the story here on an interview he did yesterday:

http://itsrainmakingtime.com/2011/jimberkland/

You'll note that he waffles on about the 1933 Long Beach quake and the 1971 San Fernando quake and the fact that there were no major Californian earthquakes between the two. This is complete bullshit. There were three. One actually happened on a full moon which would seem to back up his claim. The others of course did not. All were 6.1 or larger. He conveniently skips over facts and includes others.

After going through a list of dates on which major earthquakes have occurred (I looked at only those measuring 6.0+) and comparing those dates to the lunar phase calendar I noticed the occasional correlation between a full moon and an earthquake. Alright, so from around 30 6.0+ quakes since 2008 only one fell on a full moon. Around 4 fell within 4 days of a full moon. The others were nowhere close to a full moon for their geographic location (northern and southern hemispheres have different moon phases). In regards to a Californian quake, well... we have them several times a day. Naming a date and  saying there's a quake is like saying, "I bet the sun will come up tomorrow." As far as world wide prediction, there's an earthquake of 4-5.0 magnitude on a daily basis. There has been 13 earthquakes of a 6.0 magnitude since January 01 of this year that have happened outside of Japan. That's one every 6 days. A full moon happens about every 30 days. You can see how the odds of earthquakes happening on or around the time of a full moon are pretty good. Berkland also uses some voodoo math to claim accuracy. If the quake happens within 140 miles of where he predicts he is 100% accurate. If he is inaccurate with the prediction of time he docks himself 10% a day. Thus, he can claim to be 50% accurate by predicting a quake for Vancouver or Santa Monica on the full moon but it happens in Merritt or San Diego almost a week later on the half moon. Considering quakes are a daily event in the SoCal region it's not surprising he's able to claim 75% accuracy.

I can only attribute Berkland's claims then to what one sees in the superstitious. The recollection of past correlations coupled with the ignoring or forgetting of past dissonance. This sort of thing is really weak. He's a scientist and furthermore, he's a geologist which has been a personal interest of mine since selecting it as a minor in University. The scientific method denotes that he needs to test and recreate this correlation to prove it yet he hasn't. Only anecdotal evidence of pets running away has been given. Shame on him and shame on Fox news for reporting it at all.

For my friends down here, always be prepared for an earthquake. We live in a seismically active area and therefore it's rather foolhardy not to be prepared. Lots of water on hand and some non-perishable food. $50-$100 cash somewhere safe.

That is all.

Please check the information yourself:

What bullcack the supermoon is: http://blogs.discovermagazine.com/badastronomy/2011/03/18/kryptonite-for-the-supermoon/#more-29783

List of significant earthquakes by year: http://earthquake.usgs.gov/earthquakes/eqarchives/significant/

Moon phase calculator: http://stardate.org/nightsky/moon

My Conversation With A Seal

I went surfing today. I know this how many of my posts have begun so I'll make this relatively short. While waiting for waves...hmm,  surfing should actually be called "Waiting". Generally speaking, you wait around for waves much more than you actually surf. In my case, it should be called waiting and missing.

So, I was waiting for waves and in a group of about four people when a seal popped it's slick, rubbery head out of the water. I've seen seals before. I've seen seals while surfing before. I've never seen a seal right beside me though. Like close enough to touch. One of the surfers freaked out and pulled his legs up on his board. I wanted to ask if his flowered panties chafed him under his wetsuit. It's a damned seal man. The only disconcerting thing about the seal's presence was that I was surfing in Malibu where there happens to be a resident Great White which can be seen here:

Was I scared? Absolutely not. Did I shit just a tiny bit when some kelp hit my board and I felt a thump? You can ask Pete Nash as he's the one who rinsed my suit out after surfing. There's probably a fairly good chance there was a Hersey's Kiss in there.

So I decided to engage the seal in conversation and this is how it went.

Me: Hey seal. How are things? You eating some fish?

Seal: Yeah man. You know, hanging around and eating fish. Same old same old.

Me: I see you have no ears. More like holes in the side of your head.

Seal: Yup, just holes.

Me: I hope you don't mind me asking but sharks really like to eat seals right?

Seal: Oh yes, they love our tasty flesh.

Me: That must be scary. I'm glad I don't look like a seal. All black and shiny and swimming around. You must look like a juicy piece of licorice to them.

Seal: I like your black wetsuit.

Me: Screw you.

Seal: Someone stole your shoes.

Me: I hate you seal.


I will go back and damn it, if I see that seal again I'm going to punch him in his super cute little face. If I catch the guy who took my flip flops I might club the seal with him.

Who wants a catheter?

I'm watching a little late night television and an advertisement comes on between the pockets of the nauseating Ben Affleck movie I am subjecting myself to in the hopes that it will induce vomiting, asphyxiation and as a result I will pass out into a deep slumber. I am jolted far away from the sleep I seek by the content on the screen.

The ad is for catheters.

Now, I was never one to buy things off television but surely even the most avid dial-and-spend, home shopping network granny is not going to take them up on this offer. Then again, the website www.freeCatheterSamples.com is offering me up to 200 catheters a month for little or no out of pocket expense. WELL HOLY PISS! SIGN ME UP!

Just think of the possibilities, NAY pissabilities! 

I'll never have to miss a goal, touchdown, or advertisement offering free catheters again. I could daisy chain the catheters and then form a charitable foundation naming it, Piss Across America. I'll never have to leave the theater mid-film, never have to search for a restroom and I'll never have to buy straws again. Should I be chased by a mad swarm of killer bees I can dive into the nearest body of water, tear out my catheter and use it as a slightly salty yet perfect bee proof snorkel!

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how I've made it this far without 200 free catheters a month.

Let me do the math. 200 catheters a month equals 2400 catheters a year which means I can use 6.5 catheters a day. With the multitude of uses I'll have to budget wisely but I think I can make it. 

I see one major drawback.

I'll never be able to screen calls and use the excuse that I was in the washroom. I know what you're thinking. I could say I was in there dropping a deuce but I'm also willing to bet that there's a sister site called www.freeColostomySamples.com which would ruin that excuse because if you're already getting the catheter...

Funny Things My Kid Says.

Me: Miete, why don't we eat the red berries on this plant.
Miete: Because they can be poisonous.
Me: Did you know birds can eat them? Animals can eat things we can't and we can eat some things that animals can't. Chocolate is poisonous for dogs.
Miete: Just like Brussel Sprouts are poisonous to me.

Miete: Daddy where were you this morning?
Me: I was surfing.
Miete: Did you see whale poop in the water?

Miete (copying me): Ahhhhhh crap! Crap! Crap! Crap! Hahahahah! I said crap.

Miete: Daddy, you tell Adam that I put some animals on my bed so he has someone to sleep with when he's here. We shopped for lots of toilet paper because Adam poops a lot.

Me: You can't go on that ride yet. Not till you're older and bigger.
Miete: Just like how I can drink coffee and beer when I'm older.

Miete (from the bathroom): Hey guys, I pooped and it looks like a mountain!

Miete: I have a bah-gina and Callum has a bah-gina.
Me: Callum's a boy sweety, he has a penis.
Miete: But you're a boy and you have a bah-gina.

A Long Awaited Post

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 Aaron Smyth: Slapping Chopping his way through life and generally being an ass-hat.

 Alright, I've been receiving some flack for the somewhat granola and nature boy content which I have posted lately. Actually, I've only received flack from that asshole, Aaron Smyth who wrote on my Facebook wall, "Hey! Enough of the touchy feely one with nature blog posts. I want more hilarious tales of mexicans and the ability to get booze for a dollar."

So here is a small tid-bit of grits from the more comedic side of Los Angeles which I have failed to post and some other greatness which happened only hours ago.

The L.A. Zoo and Slash from Guns And Roses.

We made a trip to the Los Angeles Zoo partly out of curiosity and partly out of boredom. We had nothing better to do and the little ones needed to be set free so we travelled the half hour or so north to Glendale where the Zoo lies.

It looked as though there were plenty of other parents in the same boat when we arrived. There were around one hundred or so people all waiting with spun out kids. Every individual wore the same look on their face which seemed to state that they had no better place to be so, why not the Zoo?

We gained entrance after paying the fee and made our way past the gift shops and food stands, god knows most of these people (fatties) wouldn't make it more than another couple of hundred feet without a greasy cinnamon bun or thirteen greasy Churros stuffed into every available hole in their body.

The kettle corn stand was the most puzzling.

Situated just before and JUST upwind of the Flamingo habit stood the  kettle corn poppery which was spewing out a sickly mix of oil and sugar covered popped corn. This of course, is just what the doctor ordered for the obese three year old licking his chops and busily shifting his weight from foot to foot while his dad ordered three large bags. The smell, I admit, was not bad. That is to say, it was not bad until you passed a mere ten feet by the stand and were assaulted with the ammonia rich stench of ankle high Flamingo shit. The word caustic, acrid and vile come to mind when thinking back. I watched fatty after fatty almost vomit moments after taking in a massive waft of Flamingo ass-leavings. I'm sure that more than one popped kernel was aspirated that day but nonetheless, with  the same American "can-co" attitude which "won the big one" (thanks for waiting well into the war America), those fatties paused for but a moment and then plowed through that kettle corn like it was set to take down the local In-and-out Burger should it not be ingested in the next thirty seconds.

More puzzling than even the mixture of sweet treats and shit was the reptile exhibit or rather, the exhibit which is presently being built. There on the fencing surrounding the construction site hung a sign detailing how one could buy tiles which would cover the future reptile house. Each tile would cost a varying amount depending on its location and would bare your name. Of course, this is not puzzling in the least. I'm sure the majority of us have seen something like this in the past. What then could be puzzling about this at all, you ask?

Slash, from Guns and Roses was a benefactor.

There beside the sign hung another one adorned with a picture and quote:

Alright, let me just say it. There is no way Slash used the words amphibian and invertebrate in a sentence. This was obviously written by someone else. This in turn pretty much says, "tax write off" all over it because let's face it, the liquor store might give receipts but whores and coke dealers do not. I'm sure Slash needs some place to funnel some dollars in order to save a couple on the other end.

Calling these Rep-tiles would be a stroke of genius considering the quality of his character if he had in fact sobered up for the hour it would have taken for him to construct this sentence provided he was using spell and grammar check, a thesaurus and possibly a tutor. Still think he wrote this on his own? Watch this debauchery and then ask yourself again if I'm off base.

  

The human body is approximately sixty percent water. In Slashes, case a good 30% of that liquid is Jack Daniels.

He did not write that damned sentence.

The Very Brief Return Of Nature Boy/ Surf-a-tron 5000

I popped up and turned my board down the line/wave today and it was amazing. I know this is kinda lame considering Larry Bertlemann was cranking cutbacks like a mo-fo in the seventies but this is only the fifth time I've been one a board so suck it.

Surfing rules.

Venice Boardwalk: Dogtown Represent

I love Venice. Venice beach, for those who don't know it, is the Commercial drive of Los Angeles. It's got all the hippies, eateries, overtly gay, drop outs, flunkies, junkies, homeless, eccentric and totally ripping people of all time. It very possibly is the best part of Los Angeles because it pretty much extends a middle finger and a massive F-U to Hollywood. Well done Venice. You are a mad and crazy bastard. 

We headed down for a family walk along the beach because why wouldn't I want to expose my children to this crowd? Venice has a wonderful boardwalk which runs its length and extends north into Santa Monica. Before finding parking (took around forty minutes) I made sure we took a run by Venice Highschool (where Ed Norton drops off Ed Furlong for school in the final scene of American History X and Grease... yeah, John Travolta) and Hank Moody's place (Californication) so that Lisa could see some touristy sights. Alright, I admit... it was all for me. I LOVE YOU DAVID DUCHOVNY!

So back to the boardwalk. 

FREAK SHOW! No, really... there was a freak show. There was some crazy contortionist chick with her foot behind her head in a unitard, a hood and sunglasses. Then there was the pot-head contingent inviting us to take a medical marijuana evaluation where they basically deem everyone needing weed. Yeah, GFY hop head. I work for a living unlike your welfare scamming ass.

There was booth after booth of hand crafted goods. By hand crafted, I mean "made in China" and shipped to Los Angeles and sold as authentically African, Indian, Thai and other.

Then came the good stuff. I hadn't told Lisa but the real reason I wanted to visit Venice was the skatepark. I've longed to see kids ripping massive airs mere feet in front of me. Low and behold, there before me stood the Wunderkind Asher Bradshaw. I'll let his lines speak for their seven year old selves.

 

Watching that kid made me feel old and brittle. I'd bust my hip if I even stepped into that pool and here he is ripping airs. There were plenty of other talented guys there and it definitely looked like it was largely made up of the sponsored skate crowd.

Shortly after, I witnessed an equally impressive display of physical prowess by a couple of aging black dudes who needed to get down and shake their saggy old asses on roller skates. I couldn't really tell if the oldest of the two gentlemen was just warming up or if he was performing his limited funk-masterpiece. I'll let you decide.

On the way back up the boardwalk we stopped to get Miete ice cream and then promptly ran into Tim Robbins. Normally, this would be considered a star sighting but considering I've already seen both him and his now ex-wife, Susan Sarandon in Vancouver it no longer counts. It's much more rare to see a star north of the border and down here, they're a dime a dozen. Sorry Tim.

It really looked like divorce is not treating Tim well. He looked haggered and somewhat bloated. He had a bad dye job on his hair which was somewhat of a blonde color. He reeked of microwaved dinners, six packs of Heineken and resentment that, "that hippie bitch left me and I don't have a damned clue how to cook". Enjoy what ever Swansons has for you along with your new found freedom.

Once back at the car, we thought we better get Miete on the potty before the trip back across town. An accident in the car seat is never nice and never fun to clean up. Miete's pretty good at holding it in but we had been out for quite a while at this point so Lisa pulled out the little plastic potty we have, put the passenger seat forward in the Camry and Miete sat down on the floor. 

A stench filled the car. The proverbial deuce had been dropped. Wow, my kid can really clear out a room. Lisa "bagged" the prize and as we stowed it for storage I watched the neighbor give us an odd look as he made his way to his car. 

Moments later I heard a crunch and a scraping noise. I looked up only when I heard the cry of, "Damnit!" I then saw the neighbor climb out of his Audi and look at his front bumper which he had just smashed in while backing out of his parking space. Obviously, the sight of a three year old taking a dump in the back of a Toyota had really thrown him off his game.

The Worst Sleep Of All Time

Our newest addition has begun teething. With teething comes red cheeks, crying, the odd elevated temperature and a lot less sleep. Last night was pretty bad. She must have been up crying every three hours or so. Added to that was a couple of other events which woke us and further disturbed our sleep.

I thought we had a tremor around midnight. Something which seemed to shake the apartment woke me. In any case, it was not large but when something makes you think the Earth is shaking it takes a while to get back to sleep.

At around three in the morning we were both awoken by a loud bang and then bright white light illuminating the apartment. Something/Someone had hit the transformer box at the nearest intersection and some serious electric sparking and fireworks were taking place. Three large pops and bursts of light turned night into day. This of course was followed by the sound of all things electric dying. The power was out.

Moments later the sound of sirens and flashing lights followed as emergency crews arrived on the scene. Apparently, it was a four car accident and one of the vehicles sheared the transformer box off the sidewalk it was attached to. A new one now stands in its place.

Eireland woke us three more times from the time of these events to when she final woke us for the last time around half past six. We had slept long but in two hour installments and both of us felt hammer smashed.

Waking up to a dark and powerless house was not so much fun. A semi-warm bath and no coffee does not a happy Sunday make especially after such a crap sleep. An hour or so after we got out of bed the power came back on and our day resumed under normal conditions. Two double shot lattes and I'm starting to feel half way normal.

Good times.

Day Of Adventure

Surfing With Dolphins:

I had arranged to meet Dave Vasquez from work and his friend Alex at the Venice Pier at 7:30am for some surfing. I had never met Alex or his wife/girlfriend Shelagh who was to show up with him. I was introduced to him through another friend, Dave Mah(cue Bruce McCulloch's, These Are The Daves I Know) and thus made contact through Facebook. I saw Alex and Shelagh as I was unloading my board and called out but he failed to realize who I was and just passed by on the other side of the street. We introduced ourselves later on the beach and then headed out into the surf.

I'm happy to say paddling out was much easier. I actually managed to stay on my board and paddle confidently. Only when I had to paddle hard up the face of one four foot wave which just started to break as I hit the top did I get bumped off and to the side of my board. Once out past the break I was seated comfortably atop my board for the first time, balance having suddenly kicked in over night. More than likely it was the accumulated experience of falling off my board ten times the previous day I was out and watching how Alex was sitting on his board and rolling with the waves. In either case, I received kudos from Alex who said I looked like I knew what I was doing so I was stoked that at first glance I no longer appeared like the biggest kook in the line.

Catching waves was a different story. My shoulder has kinda packed it in and is in desperate need of a rest having an old rotator cuff injury. I tried for a couple but between the three of us nobody was catching anything.

Dave Vasquez showed up about forty minutes after we had paddled out and it was evident that the surf had grown in size since we had arrived as it took him a solid ten minutes to get out past the wash. I could see him grinning as he kept getting thumped by the larger waves break towards him and then that grin disappear as he ditched his board and dove through a large one to avoid a crushing.

We chatted while sitting on our boards and then I took off for shore shortly thereafter. Just as I was paddling in Alex or Dave called out my name. I turned around and sat up on my board and looked at where Alex was pointing. "Dolphins" he yelled. There was a pod of Dolphins around seventy to a hundred feet from us playing in the surf. Please allow me to repeat that just in case you missed it, I WAS SURFING WITH FRIGGIN' DOLPHINS!


Nature made my day... again.

The Hike:

Woodsy and I decided on hiking and headed south from Los Angeles to the hills above Lake Elsinore which is located in San Juan Capistrano. After a crappy drive in traffic we arrived in the parking lot and headed to the trail head a short distance away.

It was nice hiking in the twenty five degree warmth and the scrubby bushes of the Californian landscape provided shade for the majority of the walk. We didn't really have a plan where we were headed but we knew we wanted exercise and to hike for a couple of hours so we headed in the general direction of, "up".

As always, plenty of conversation was to be had. Topics covering work, surfing, nature, music, movies, women, family and food were discussed. Healthy portions of fart jokes were mixed in. When we reached a certain flat spot near a certain peak... which one I can't say because like I said we had no idea where we were going, we stopped and ate a granola bar after which we turned and headed back down.

On the way, we met a couple riding horses who were accompanied by four dogs. The cowboy having probably listened to us carry on for the last ten minutes looked at us and asked, "Well, have you solved the world's problems yet?"

At some point we diverged from the path we took up and found ourselves lost. We had plenty of water, food and clothing so we didn't sweat it. We knew the general direction we needed to head in so we continued down the trail and then found that it coughed us out on what appeared to be a sandy service road. We followed that road down towards the main street which we could see miles away and came across a ranch or two. Eventually we hit a large house with a foreboding gate around it, topped with barbed wire. There was an expected no trespassing sign which seemed a moot point considering there was nobody else out there. What gave that sign a little more oomph was the manikin head on a pike which had an arrow shot through it. It was semi-comical and semi-worrisome. Was this the Twilight Zone? While all this was happening a restored P51 Mustang was doing barrel rolls in the sky above us.

We continued down the road to where it emptied into a nice cluster of farms. It kind of appeared commune like. Not in the hippie sense but in the David Koresh, Waco sense. "Nice farms" said Adam. "Yeah, we should be fine so long as none of them are weed farms." I retorted. I had seen a documentary on rogue pot farmers in California who took to shooting anyone who happened to stumble on their grow operations and the thought rushed back to my consciousness right about the time I caught a waft of pot smoke from one of the back yards. We made it through without any problems and back to the car safe and sound.


The Recovery:

Our legs and asses were killing us. No, we didn't run across some hillbillies and get "Deliveranced". The extra hour of unplanned hiking really did us in. Neither one of us wanted to cook so pizza, beer and football on the television it was. This morning is to be followed with the same minus the beer and probably minus the pizza for the first half of the game. The jacuzzi might be in order as well.

One of the subjects we discussed on our hike was making the most of any situation. I think we achieved that. I never thought I would see so much nature when I moved to Los Angeles and I would argue that I've seen more here than in Vancouver.

There is definitely a danger of taking what your home town offers for granted.

A Pretty Wicked Morning.

Being raised on the ocean has left me with a life-long tie which I have yet to sever, not that I would ever try. Living in Germany and being land-locked deprived me of the immediate access I have always enjoyed from my youth in Comox through my adult years in Vancouver. I never realized how much I missed it until living away from it and when my awesome wife took me to Dublin for my thirtieth birthday. After not seeing the ocean for over a year the best part of the vacation was a day trip to Howth where I ran to the water and dipped my hands in, pulling them up and smelling the briny water.

It makes perfect sense then that a morning surfing, albeit completely ungracefully and rather ineptly, centered and energized me. The ocean can be fierce and terrify as I mentioned in my last post but it can soothe and calm as well. The two foot waves rolling in sets of two and three were there to greet me this morning almost as if to say, "Here's your reward for coming back after that bitch-slapping I gave you last time. Enjoy."

Now I get why people feel spiritual about the sport of surfing. It's not the slashes and wicked cutbacks (never gonna happen on my board), the hotties on the beach or how great my ass looks in a wetsuit and it sure isn't controlling or kicking nature's ass. Surfing allows you to connect with nature in a way which few other sports allow. You don't just pass through nature when surfing but rather and quite literally immerse yourself in her and the best thing is that nature considers you part of it.

Sound corny?

While I was paddling out past the break today and fighting to keep on my board like a walrus balancing on a railing I looked to my left and saw what only Canadian eyes would perceive as geese flying low over the water. As the birds approached I saw for the first time in my life a Pelican. Actually, not "a" Pelican but seven Pelicans and they chose to fly no more than ten feet from me three feet above the water. The sight was met with the following inner dialogue:

Wow. Pelicans. I don't think I've even seen them in a zoo. I win.

Friends tell me that I will surf amongst Dolphins in Venice and Malibu. Crazy sauce. My bond with the beloved ocean just increased ten fold.