Well, the heat was certainly on the (formerly) sleepy little sea-hamlet of Morro Bay!
The huge, ugly power plant, so arrogant and destructive for all those years, was woozy on it's feet; a huge 2nd Court of Appeals ruling against 'Once-Through-Cooling, them, and their EPA had them reeling.
Then, there was that small matter of the ocean being shut down from commercial fishing in and around Morro bay, tighter than a crab's ass in a hurricane! Oooh, those fisher-dicks were mad at me. I said "Hi" to one at a city council meeting and he responded with a friendly, "Don't you talk to me, you asshole!". I covered my mouth in mock astonishment.
Meanwhile, the sewage 'Waiver' was in it's final death throes, thanks to the NRDC (Natural resources defense Council), Surfrider Foundation, Sierra Club, and, yeah, I guess, because of us too.
Since the punch in the nose at the Winter Bird Festival, I was always on the lookout for kooks. That's why I noticed the car.
There it was, sitting up on the hillside, just around the corner from Blondie's apartment, and it was suspicious as hell. So, shy though I am, I went into my desk, grabbed my digital Nikkon 3100, waltzed up calmly to the front of the car, and 'S*N*A*P'! There sat the Sam Spade wannabee jawing on a cell phone, probably saying: "Yes, Mr. Cheney, I'm right in front of the apartment now, and...oh wait- he's coming right toward me now, with a camera, and...!"
"Ever heard of James Bond?" he asked, walking toward us with 'Private Eye' ID in hand...
He was pissed! There he was, playing 'Private Eye', all cool, and now his picture was gonna be starring on a blog, or in one of joey racano's gaudy Email campaigns that go to every computer from Suffolk County Long Island, to Bejing, China!
"No", I answered. "Who's he?"
"I've got a license to be here, see?" he said nervously...
I simply walked away and closed the door while he was still talking. Bye bye, Mr. secret agent man.
Bye bye.