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Jay Moriarty

Some people live in such a manner, that their exploits and attitudes define themselves, and become a part of History. It is fortunate to be around that type of person. You learn a lot. My fondest recollection of Jay Moriarty, is of him kick stalling in the barrel at Maverick’s, and smiling at me. A peculiar and unsettling memory, was getting a phone call informing me that he had died by drowning. I was driving South through Half Moon Bay, and looked up to see the Radar Tower at Pillar Point.  The feeling of confusion I had felt when the

World Oceans Day

I awoke late this Sunny Sunday, having spent the night wrapping a job on the computer and getting to sleep at 6:30 AM. I pulled myself away from my girlfriend Donna who was doing her best imitation of a dead woman at 9:15 am. I had some coffee and rolled down the valley into downtown Ventura for a haircut appointment at 10:00 am with my Samoan pal Danny Moa. By twelve, after we had rapped out and talked  a lot of story and I stood squinting in the broad light of high noon, I felt different. It wasn’t the haircut.

Blur

Remember what it was like as a child, where in your grassy yard on a Summer’s day, you held arms outstretched, tilted head back and whirled around in circles? The scenery would whiz by in an increasing blur. A fun thing to do, as you examined play options. The whirling activity sort of is my life this beautiful spring day, with birds singing outside as the morning expands. I am looking at a lot of things right now. One interesting piece was just sent to us by Elmar Von Hoesslin (Donna’s ex husband)  and is a creative look at his

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Jay Moriarty

Some people live in such a manner, that their exploits and attitudes define themselves, and become a part of History. It is fortunate to be around that type of person. You learn a lot. My fondest recollection of Jay Moriarty,

World Oceans Day

I awoke late this Sunny Sunday, having spent the night wrapping a job on the computer and getting to sleep at 6:30 AM. I pulled myself away from my girlfriend Donna who was doing her best imitation of a dead

Blur

Remember what it was like as a child, where in your grassy yard on a Summer’s day, you held arms outstretched, tilted head back and whirled around in circles? The scenery would whiz by in an increasing blur. A fun