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One Farmer's Disaster is Many Beetle's Revenge


Did you know that bug splatter on your car's windshield is a treasure trove of genomic biodiversity? Yes indeed, the DNA left behind in the bugs splattered on your car's window glass can be used to estimate the diversity of insects in the region.

I just got home from Las Vegas, which meant a spent quite a few hours in the 'fruit basket of California' or as it is more commonly known -- the San Joaquin Valley. They grow lots of grapes there, mostly for raisins and the majority of asparagus consumed in the U.S. come from there. Also lemons, mandarins, pistachios, lots of almonds plus other citrus and vegetables. In some sections, however, the water from the California Aqueduct has been rationed or even cutoff because of a continuing drought.

This means that you see a lot of signs like this:


I am not going to debate the water issues in the West today but I would like to point out that as recently as five years ago, you could drive the length of the Central Valley of California and not have a single bug splatter on your windshield. Today both times I stopped for gas I had to use a bit of the olde elbow grease to scrape scores of splats off the glass. There are several lessons here: first is the issue of broad spectrum insecticides and what just a minor decline in their use has done for the insect population.

Then there is the not so obvious matter of my transit today ending the existence of several hundred sentient creatures. I would expound on those matters but I had a nine hour drive and what I truly need is some time with my back flat on the floor, followed by ice cream.

Talk among yourselves.
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splatter photo credit: John Chiembanchong
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A Happy New Home


Just before arriving in Las Vegas last week and good friend who lives here emailed me and asked if I knew of the best place to adopt an adult cat. As long time readers know I used to volunteer at the Nevada SPCA No-Kill shelter in the cat condo wing. So today, my sixth day in Las Vegas was also my third visit to the shelter this week and Jace (pictured above) now has a new happy home with a spectacular view of City Center.

I must admit that I am sorely tempted to make one more visit and take this big, old grey guy back to Berkeley with me. He is a lot more lovable than he looks in this shot, reminds me of me.

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There But For The Grace of Homer Go I . . .


I played a small poker tournament yesterday but this is not a poker story. This is a pondering morality tale with a poker backdrop.

It was a small tournament only two tables, Bill and I played. The young lady on my right was an OK player, her husband at the other end of the table was not. She wore too much perfume and over the course of the hour or two it took for her to bust out, I liked her less and less as her mood darkened and she complained about things irrelevant to the poker game. Some might call it: "just bitching". She went out 11th, so she bubbled the final table. Only the top two places were scheduled to be paid but when we got to four players (both Bill and I still in) the short stack player began to ask about a chop. The chipleader was not interested, so for about thirty minutes the stacks went up and down as the blinds went higher and higher. It became a shove-fest. I bubbled in 4th and the remaining three players chopped the cash.

But this is not a poker story. Last evening, I was down in the casino at Monte Carlo as I exited onto the Strip I saw several LVPD officers talking with the young lady and her husband who had played in the tournament. Out of curiosity I listened in.

It appears that after she busted out, she took her dark mood to another casino and playing what I believe was carribbean stud and won herself $40,000. She then decided to continue drinking heavily and to switch to playing craps, which apparently she did not understand well. While she was drinking, throwing dice, showing her tits and generally having a great time (did I mention she had ditched her husband?). Anyways at some point she had $5K of her $40K windfall on the craps table and the other $35,000 stuck in her purse in cash from where it was lifted by a crafty pick pocket. Hence, the police.

It took about five minutes of eavesdropping to get the gory details of her sad story, I believe I overheard rendition six or seven. All the while the husband kept chiming in with: "I don't know, she dumped me after she drank dinner. She still had all the money then."

So yesterday I bubbled a little poker tournament, all in all not a bad day . . . considering.

[my apologies for the poker jargon to my newer non-poker playing readership]
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Just Las Vegas


I can't tell if I am jaded or if this is just a matter of coming to a "resort destination" where I once lived. I know Las Vegas. The glitz never really impressed me and since living here I know all the back ways, the 'ins & outs' of the city.

Granted I haven't seen the new City Center yet but I have been to the Black Bear Diner and the SPCA cat condos and I played a bit of low limit poker yesterday and really enjoyed dominating a table. My fellow travelers have arrived after a long day of Southwest delays, so group-think is in full swing. Tonight we do another friend's birthday celebration and tomorrow perhaps a poker tournament.

And then we search for something completely different. I have one idea in mind for the others, for me. . .  have I mentioned you can never go home again? Perhaps an opportunity for seeing with fresh eyes.

Addendum: To be fair. I had a long walk on the Strip last evening. Some observations - freedom of speech or not, the dozens of guys handing out cards for out call services should be banned, if only for the litter they create. City Center is a very cool site from across the Strip at night, on the other hand the city should fine the entire project for continuing to keep the west side of the Strip so screwed up well past any reasonable construction deadline. Go ahead and leave your overbuilt hotels unfinished but the public right of way needs to be open and navigable now. The Bellagio fountains remain a truly unique attraction even after so many years. The revamped Mirage volcano, not so much. And to the two hookers working the entry at the Mirage last night -- reconsider those haircuts and lose the chewing gum.
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Leaving for Las Vegas


I will be off in a few hours for Las Vegas. Interesting to return to a place where I lived for three years but really had no significant connection other than work. While Las Vegas is not my kind of town, I don't have the aversion that many of my friends have to Glitter Gulch, Lost Wages, Sin City or whatever not quite appropriate labels non-residents have for Vegas. 

The trip is part-business/part-pleasure. Amy will be there for a financial conference and we have a couple of pending projects to discuss.  Several other poker buddies are in town already or will be passing through. In addition there is some writin' business to be attended to. Another book deal to mull over and some other potential assignments to be pondered and perhaps negotiated. 

Poker will also be on the agenda. I will hit the Venetian for some Omaha 8 and I imagine a tournament or two downtown at Binion's. Also, now that Debonair has moved his play to the MGM, I foresee several sessions near the lion habitat.

I am staying at the Monte Carlo for most of the trip, rates on the strip are definitely down and the latest really good deal was at Monte Carlo. Besides that puts me right next to the new City Center project. 

Somewhat pokerish updates to follow.


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I have a question for you . . .


Today I am asking for some audience participation from my esteemed, eclectic and elegant readership. Please consider my request and take twelve seconds or twelve months to respond. For the bashful lurkers, instructions on how to publicly or privately offer your thoughts are given below.

In some recent readings, I came across a provocative question, which I have modified slightly for my purpose. Here it is:

"Indicate some of the fundamental beliefs, concepts, philosophy of life or articles of faith which help carry you along, tide you over rough spots or guide you in the every day conduct of your life."


I should like to pose that considerable inquiry to our little corner of the blogosphere. I certainly will respond, perhaps several times to the parameters of that question. I would ask that you do also. You are welcome to take the words and meaning of those italicized phrases in any manner you like. Send a snippet, offer a thesis, expound or quip. Just please don't be silent.

For the rather sizable number of my readers who would rather remain anonymous, there are several ways to respond without public linkage to your reality. First and the easiest, just click the word "comments" below the last line of this post and open your thoughts with "do not ID me." I moderate all comments to this blog before they are posted and I will detach your name from your comment on request. I may use your thoughts but I will shield your identity.

You can also choose the "anonymous" signature on a comment, that works as well, but in those cases even I will not know who sent the comment. Your choice: protected identity or true anonymity. I may save some of the comments for later posts, so if yours doesn't show up immediately, it will be because I am pondering your submission and will seek to respond or spin off some thoughts you have sparked.

Thank you in advance and may I ask again:

"Indicate some of the fundamental beliefs, concepts, philosophy of life or articles of faith which help carry you along, tide you over rough spots or guide you in the every day conduct of your life."
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art credit: Chow Martin
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May Day: Berkeley


May Day in Berkeley 2010 was a disappointment. Yes, there was the requisite amount of Arizona immigration bashing and leaflet handing out and random activist literature tables but this is the Worker's Day. Where were the socialists? Where were the downtrodden? The unions? The huddled masses were drinking mocha lattes.

The most prominent early morning promotion was for the "family friendly" May Day picnic and that was over in Dolores Park in San Francisco. This is not your parent's Berkeley. There is more concern these days about reversing the decades of traffic calming measures (that's blocked off neighborhood streets for those who have not experienced the radical traffic patterns of Berkeley). And lest we forget, we need to be ever watchful of asbestos ceilings and old lead paint.

Perhaps I was just having an olde leftie day and expected more from the former nexus of all things radical. Or maybe I was looking for the other meaning of May Day.

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