OK. So Noe’s out of town and I’m watching The Dude (his dog) for him. I took him on a walk from the warehouse down to the zoo and back. I was about 100 yards from my front door, walking through the alley behind Chase Palm Park, thinking to myself, “What a relaxing walk”. I look over and see these birds (plovers I think) trying to coax their 3 babies over this curb. They were too small to fly yet, and could not hop up over the curb. I call the bird rescue and they tell me that they don’t have time to come help. So they ask if I can put them in a box and bring them to Goleta. As I’m on the phone, one of the babies just stops moving. The lady on the phone won’t stop talking and all I want to do is get off the phone and see if the little bird is ok. Finally, she hangs up. I quickly tie The Dude to a pole and walk over to the bird. The parent birds are freaking out and chirping wildly. The little guy was actually sleeping. I pick it up and he immediately starts chirping and trying to escape my hands. A random lady walks by and sees what I’m doing. She says she lives close by and goes to get a box for me to put the babies in. So here I am, holding a baby bird in my hands, keeping an eye on The Dude, and trying to keep an eye on the other babies.
The mom bird goes and lays down in the middle of the alley and the other 2 babies come and lay under her. I’m waiting for what seems like forever, when a SUV comes driving down the alley. I yell at the driver to slow down, but he doesn’t and before I could do anything, the mom bird flys off leaving the babies exposed. The SUV goes right over them. I see one standing under the axles and the SUV misses it. The other… got ran the fukk over. It popped like a little ballon. The sound made me kringe. The SUV goes to the end of the alley, which is a loop, turns around, and starts heading back toward me. The guy was driving really fast and had his family in the car. I stepped out in front of the SUV yelling at him to slow down. He didn’t. I stepped to the side as he drove by me. If I wouldn’t have moved, he would have hit me. As he drove by with his window down, I said, “you just ran over a baby bird!” ” Oh, yeah, a baby bird.” He said sarcastically. I was blown away. What an asshole. If I didn’t have the bird in my hands and The Dude to watch, I would have chased down his car and beat his ass in front of his kids. What a fukkhead.
Anyway, the lady came back with the box and, with some help, I rounded up the remaining baby bird. I walked around the fence and curb and let them go close to the parent birds. The babies walked out of the box like they knew exactly where they were going. They met up with the parent birds and walked down the train tracks as one happy little bird family, well, minus one of course.
Big shout out to my OG homie and SB legend, The Dude, for being so patient while I was dealing with this. Even when 3 drugged out kids going to the gay pride festival in the park backed him in to a corner, he handled it like a champ. Although, he did look like he wanted to bite their faces off… and at that moment, I wouldn’t have cared if he did. 
One love ya’ll.
West Beach Music Festival. I’ve been a Steel Pulse fan for a LONG time. Since I was a little kid. This was the first time I had ever seen them. They did not dissapoint. I got right in the middle of the crowd. The kick drum sent a huge thud through my body every time it hit. They were so on point! It was worth the wait. Steel Pulse on the beach at sunset.
Dave took the dogs for a walk, and Noe and I went to check out DJs Magneto and Nagai.
Food and drink along with the ride and the ticket. First beer at 10am. First shot at 11am. Wait. That’s just wrong. I blame that on Liberty.
After I got a beer and a Dodger dog, I started to walk to my seat only to hear the crowd go nuts, and a ball go flying over the fence. A grand-slam by Ronnie Belliard to start the game off right. Also saw back to back homers, and Randy Johnson pitch an inning.. the Big Unit! Dodgers 12, Giants 1.
and Pugh got a job! 
Good weekend. Summer’s still kickin’ in SB.
