I grew up in Southern California, in Orange County (no, we did not call it 'The OC'). I spent as much time at the beach as my pale skin would allow; swimming and body-surfing for hours each day. On my 18th birthday I decided that I was now a man, and I would do something to prove to the world how manly I was. At about 10 in the morning I went down to the beach with the idea that I would swim all the way around the Newport pier. I stood on the sand and looked out at the water, seeing it as a challenge which I would beat. I kicked off my flip-flops, took off my shirt and ran down to the water. Once the water was waist deep I dove in- with the familiar chill of the Pacific making my whole body tingle. I swam right through the 5 foot waves and headed toward the deep water past the break. The swells were still pretty big, about 3 feet, I bobbed on the waves like a duck, but I just kept swimming out- intent on my goal.

One thing that I had not thought about was the fact that there are usually dozens of fishermen on the pier casting their lines out as far as they could. In fact, I didn't even think about it that until I swam right into someone's fishing line. The shock of running into the line caused me to stop swimming, and start treading water- which meant that my feet were thrashing around a lot quicker, in an eggbeater motion. I had gotten a little bit of the line caught around my right ankle, and the thrashing was getting it tangled even further. When it had wrapped around my leg two or three times, one of the hooks on the line caught into my right calf. Then another, and another. I had three hooks in my right leg, and I stopped moving it. Instead I had to use my left leg in a pumping motion, trying to keep myself afloat. That was great- until I caught a hook in the bottom of my left foot.

By now, people on the pier who were watching me figured that something was wrong. Moments before I had been the lone swimmer, confident enough to swim out where they feared to go. Now I was the young kid thrashing about in someone's fishing line. Someone shouted out, "Are you okay?." It took every bit of my new-found manhood to yell back, "Help! Help!" I think that calling out for help was actually more painful than the hooks in my legs. I had grown up at the beach- I had watched hundreds of rescues; my friends and I always laughed at the poor slob that went too far out only to have the lifeguard drag them back in. And now at the busiest and most crowded part of any beach in Orange County, there were hundreds of people on the pier watching me scream out for help.

Luckily the lifeguard headquarters is at the base of the pier, and they already had a boat on the way. So the Newport Beach rescue boat was there in a matter of seconds. They pulled the boat right next to me and cut the engine. One of the lifeguards said, "did you get caught up in the line?" "Yeah...I can't move my legs because of the hooks." They dragged me into the boat, cut the fishing line and asked me where I was from. When they found out that I lived nearby, they asked me what the hell I was thinking- only a tourist would be dumb enough to try this. I told them about my big birthday plan- they shook their heads at my stupidity.

So I went into the lifeguard building, and one of the lifeguards started pulling the hooks out of my leg. All of the hooks were on one line, which is illegal, but highly effective for catching fish, and swimmers. The hook on the bottom of my left foot was in pretty deep, and he had to really pull hard to get it out. The other lifeguards stood around and watched- telling me what a dumbass I was for swimming near the pier.

With my head down, I limped out of the lifeguard station towards the spot on the sand where I had left my towel, shoes and car keys. A couple of little kids about 8 years old were still standing around after the excitement of the rescue. One kid said to the other , "look, there's the man they rescued." I couldn't believe it- I was so proud. It was my 18th birthday, and in their eyes I was a 'man.'

Okay- nice story, but what the heck does it have to do with Woodland?

Well, on my birthday this year, I was trying for another of those life-affirming challenges. My only criteria were:

• do not embarrass myself completely
• avoid sharp objects (especially fish hooks)
• do not take off my shirt in public

So I decided that going for a walk was pretty safe. But at least it was a long walk. Below is a map with the route I took. The legend will make more sense when you read the rest of the story, but take a look at the route. I went in a clockwise direction.

I headed out of my house at 10:15. I thought I had missed all of the Pioneer High School students, but luckily I came across one straggler.

So- representing Pioneer HS this morning is Juan. Of course I wanted to learn more about a kid who shows up for school over two hours late, so I stopped and asked him a few questions. (Like most kids though, his answers are short and to the point- he's thinking "why is this weirdo talking to me?")

What grade are you in? 11th.

Why are you late for school? I live over on Thomas Street.

So you are late every day? Umm...no, I woke up late.

(he has an accent, so I ask...) Where are you from? Texas (ohhh..now I notice the shirt)

What do you like to do? Go to the park, play soccer.

That's it...that was as much as I was going to get out of him- but then again, he had to hurry off to school.

I was going down Gibson, and I came across a lot of gardeners out mowing lawns. One nice guy in front of the mall didn't speak english, but he was kind enough to tell me I was 'pelotudo'- I don't speak Spanish, but I will look up later*. (Looked it up...oh...that wasn't very nice.)

But then I came across Larry. Larry was instantly noticeable because of the bright orange sweatshirt he was wearing. He was edging a yard and I stopped to talk to him. He turned off the edger and said "sure- whatever you want."

I asked him if he was a gardener and he said "a little bit." This was not his house, but one of his customers. He is actually retired from UC Davis, but does the gardening to keep himself busy. He also still works at UCD as a 39% time employee, AND he is an usher at the River Cats games at Raley field (6 games in April). So this is a guy who is keeping himself busy. Or, he is just trying to amass a small fortune during his retirement.

I asked him why he was doing the gardening. "I like the flowers."

We talked about Woodland a little bit, and I wanted to know what he thought of the town - "I was born and raised here, so I guess I like it."

*pelotudo (masc. adj.) dumbass.

Going up West street, I walked past the cemetery. I noticed that on the South side of the cemetery there were lots and lots of flowers- almost every grave was covered in flowers. There were two women talking, and I decided to violate every rule of etiquette, and go to interview them in the cemetery.

They are Diane Long and Angela Gonzalez. I soon found out that Rick Gonzalez "The Godfather of Woodland", a man who had helped out many people in our city was the husband of Angela, and the grandfather of Diane. They were here to visit his grave, and pay respects to a man who spent so much time at the benefit of others. Angela proudly described the building they had named after her husband, and the park they named in his honor. She told me that visiting his grave made her feel that he was still with them.

She told me that she did not play a part in his community activities, but instead supported him as a man. "I backed him, and supported him, but I am not the leader," she said.

I heard her talking, and I thought "I'll bet people ask her about her husband all the time...but what about Angela?"

So, I asked her about something I thought she would care about. "Do you cook?" "Oh...of course I cook. I've been cooking all my life." I asked what her specialties were- "my tortillas." Then her grand-daughter chimes in "and her enchiladas, she is famous for her enchiladas! We all get fat when she starts cooking- and when family comes to town, the first thing they want is some of her food."

I think it is great that we all honor Rick Gonzalez- he helped a lot of people. But let's not forget about Angela Gonzalez. Who knows how many tortillas she made, how many pots of beans she cooked to support her husband. The saying "behind every great man, is a great woman" is very true in this case. Angela Gonzalez- maybe we should name our next park after you.

Walking North on Cottonwood, I ended up in front of the Yolo County UC Extension Office. This is the place where the people from University of California try to help local farmers and homeowners with their plants. They also run the Four-H program and have a Master Gardeners club.

I went in to talk to them, to find out what this was all about. It was lunchtime, and the only person in the office was this lady, named Anna-Marie. "It was my grandmother's name, and my great-grandmothers. My family may be boring, but it is consistent."

Actually, Anna-Marie was anything but boring. She is probably one of the most enthusiastic people I have ever met- and her enthusiasm was regarding the Master Gardener program, a group of volunteers who help out other people with their plant problems. "This is the best thing I have ever done in my life. Oh...except maybe my kids. Oh...and my husband too I guess." All I know is that she was very excited to talk about plants, and Master Gardeners. Her plant knowledge made me think of her as our local version of Martha Stewart...but this was Martha Stewart on speed. Also, she used the word "Frickin'" a lot more than Martha ever did. Well...at least before Martha went to jail.

I asked her a few questions regarding plants in our area, here is what she had to say:

I have this fuzzy white stuff on my sycamore, and the leaves are turning brown- "Your tree probably has anthracnose. It's a fungus that almost all of the mature sycamores in this area have. It's because of our alkaline soil, and spring rainfall.' She then went on to give me a flyer describing treatment.

What is the best tree for our area? I like the Blue Vitex, or 'Chase Tree' it small, with dark blue flowers and is drought tolerant. For a big tree I like the chinese pistache. And incense cedar. And Arbutus for flowers. She could have gone on for a while, but instead gave me a copy of the Yolo County Master Gardener Recommended Trees for Yolo County flyer.

What is the best thing you can do for your yard? Mulch. Mulch! Mulch!!! Three to four inches thick at least, maybe six if you can.

What is the worst thing you can do for your yard? Over-watering.

She had an answer to all my questions- and gave me two informative flyers. If you have questions about the plants in your yard, you should check out the Master Gardeners.

I was walking down Beamer Street, and talking on the phone with my sister. My sister can get pretty deeply involved in a conversation, so with great difficulty I cut her off. I told her "There is a white guy sitting on a couch in his carport. His house is decorated with a bunch of Mexican flags and little sombrero lights. If this doesn't say 'InsideWoodland.com' I don't know what does."

So I went over and started talking to the guy, and asking him if I could take pictures, etc. He was a fairly nice guy by the name of Richard. He likes to sit out in the carport and watch the neighborhood. He can see games at Camarena Field and watch the cars on Beamer. He told me that he didn't do the decorating, it was his brother. "He decorates every holiday. Christmas, 4th of July, Thanksgiving..."

Across the street from Richard's house is Camarena Field. It's a small park with two immaculate baseball diamonds. As I was walking through the park I saw George, he had just finished mowing the lawn. I figured it would be a great time to take a break in the park, and ask a few questions.

So what is your job here? Well, I take care of the park, do the maintenance. I mow the lawn, I keep the baseball fields neat, set them up for little league, stuff like that.

Do you work at other parks? Does anyone else work here? No, this is the park I work at, and pretty much I do everything here. Once a year they bring a 'Tree Squirrel' (a portable crane) out to trim the trees, but mostly it's just me.

So, this is like YOUR park? Umm...I guess so.

How long have you been doing this? 7 or 8 years at this park.

What do you take the most pride in? Oh...the ballfield.

At this point George opens the gate to the ballfield. I am impressed that there are real sunken dugouts. The lines are all chalked, and the grass is mowed. All the wood is painted a nice green color. The place looks like a 12 year old boy's dream come true.

What gives you the most pleasure of being out here? Well, seeing a father and son out hitting some balls together.

He showed me the Bar-B-Que pits (2 of them in the park). I also saw horseshoe pits that looked to be in good condition. I told him that he was lucky to get to work at a park all day. "Yeah, it's pretty nice. I go to work and I'm at the park. But it does get a little boring in the winter."

What do you have for lunch? Oh, I usually bring in a sandwich and a soda. Sometimes I'll come in early and stop at McDonald's or something and get some breakfast and eat it here.

What's the biggest problem at the park? Vandalism. Graffiti. Every day this week when I come in I've found that some young girl has written all over the picnic tables. I clean it off every morning using an aerosol that dissolves the marking pen.

How do you feel about this? Well...I'd sure like to catch those kids.

Click the pictures for a bigger view. Also- try hitting 'F11' to expand your screen for easier viewing.

Aphids on a rose bush. Anna-Marie has the answers for this- call her!

A cat..plotting..planning...scheming. "Whose bed should I pee on next?"

Not only did they have flamingos, but the flamingos had laid eggs.

The highest point in the city.

Another cat.

I like the paint.

This house has TONS of stuff in their yard, this is just a small sample.

Score one for the Jewish kids at Woodland High. (Is that all of them?)

Keeping their yard clean downtown.

More stuff from the same house with lots of stuff. They've got a hippie vibe going.

Thank god for strong fences. As soon as I turned away this dog tried to kill me.

To me, it's a purple flower. To someone else it has a fancy latin name.

A rose without aphids- in front of the Gable mansion.

It looks like both back legs are on the same side of it's body.

Sloth is one of the 7 deadly sins. Whoever painted this will probably never
get to enjoy 3 of the other sins: greed, gluttony, and lust. Because
whoever paints on walls is probably a paint-huffing idiot.

The taco truck in front of True-Value hardware is one of the best. Al-Pastor all the way.

Water tower at Camarena Field - where George works.

Yolo County museum. It was closed when I went by.