Back in the early 60's, there was a man named Jed, a poor mountaineer who barely kept his family fed. Then one day he was shootin' some food, and up through the ground came a bubblin' crude. Now, 45 years later, the same thing occurred down in the San Francisco Bay Area. The only difference is that Jed was a ship captain rather than a hillbilly, and instead of shooting a hole in the ground, he crashed his ship into the Bay Bridge. However, both had the same result... Oil that is. Black gold. Texas tea.
Instead of cashing in and move to Beverly Hills, this modern day Jed leaked 58,000 gallons of oil into the bay, killing an abundance of wildlife and toppling any plans for a late-fall beach party.
The Bay Area's worst spill in nearly two decades is slowly being cleaned up, with hoards of volunteers flocking to the coastline ready to help. The only problem? The last thing the clean-up crews need is a bunch of untrained hippies scaring away injured birds, and if you've ever been to Berkeley, you'd know that untrained hippies are available by the crate.
After being rescued by professionally trained hippies, the oil-infused birds were shipped up to Fairfield, where a bunch of hippies with doctorates were ready to scrub them down and save their precious little lives.
After several weeks of working without anything interesting happening in the area, I had a feeling that we were due for something big. This has done nicely, even though it happened on the one weekend of the year that had torrential downpours, resulting in all the idiot California drivers getting into accidents and making me shuffle through traffic for 3 hours to get to the Bay Area.
Guess my annual November Beach Luau Bonanza will have to wait until December. My Bikini Dance Team is going to be very disappointed... aren't they the real victims in all this?
