This has been a bad couple of weeks for some of us. Apparently, folks like me owe many of you an apology.

First off, to the Board of Supervisors. I most humbly apologize for having a fire place. I’m of that generation which invented Earth Day. Our slogan back in 1971 was “Split Wood not Atoms.” As environmentalists, we had a different approach. Sorry we got it so wrong.

Now that you have banned fireplaces (I know, in homes on less than one acre, and only on new construction—but we’re hip to camels, noses, and tents)--I hope you will forgive us. Part of it was economic. Our house is really old. It’s not insulated.

It would cost over $1,000 per month were we to use electricity. Plus, we thought not using electricity for heat might serve some social good. Something about the less need for coal powered electrical plants, etc. We always thought trees were a renewable resource.

I grant you that fireplaces are terribly inefficient ways to heat an entire home. Part of the method to our madness was “poetry”, or romance. Though the kids still complain about how icy our upstairs is, we sort of liked how they were forced to come down and sit with us, just to keep warm by the fire.

No doubt, were we better parents, we wouldn't have had to resort such chicanery.

And by the way—I love the argument about how we are part of a “region” and we have to “go along to get along.” We once lived in the heart of that “region.” I can’t speak for others, but we moved up here to get away from their pollution, congestion, noise, traffic and RULES. Little did we imagine that we moved up here so we could help them solve their problems at our expense. We had thought we were electing supervisors who would be representing us—not Bay Area interests. Our fault.

I want to apologize to the lady who wrote the Register about wind machines disturbing her sleep. I didn’t realize Global warming caused colder mornings. Well, she’s right about one thing. It wasn’t always thus. The Valley used to be black with soot from burning smudge pots. Water from whirly-bird sprinklers is also is effective and quieter. Should we be using more water for frost protection?

What would she see if there were no vineyards? Houses, maybe? Reminds one of the bromide: “The most wonderful sound in the world is a husband’s snoring. Just ask any widow.”

As I was driving to work this morning (dodging sniper fire all the way), I was told that I had committed the sin (as had my father) of living in a small town.

Not only that, two weeks ago, I sat under an oak tree waiting for the sun to rise. I was in Cammo. I was motionless as my friend called down a Tom Turkey from the ridge. Bitter guy that I am, I clung a 12 gauge shot gun in my lap.

(Though the word is out that if they want to avoid ending up on my dining room table, all a turkey has to do is strut in front of the broad side of a barn), this guy never even came into sight. My friends and I simply smiled (sorry) shouldered our shot guns, walked the hills, took in the beauty and returned home for some not so bitter coffee.

Alas, it was a Sunday, so to prove I wasn’t as bitter as some folks think, I guiltily missed mass. I caved in the following week. And yes I was bitter. Getting up at 7am, after having gone to the “Just Imagine” auction, and danced to the wee hours does not make for a happy cowboy when the alarm clock goes off just as “the dawn came up like thunder/ Outer China 'crost the Bay.”

After clinging to mass, and un-accustomed to late nights, I fell asleep on the couch while watching the Masters, only to be awakened by the phone. There was a fire out near my father’s ranch in Conn Valley. We loaded the jeep with chain saws, rakes and shovels and raced to the scene.

I want to apologize to the radical environmentalists on behalf of ourselves and our neighbors who have maintained tractor trails throughout the hills to permit fire fighters to do what they did yesterday.

I’ve attended meetings where (friends of the fish) want to “de-commission” roads in the hills which serve not only as fire breaks, but as access for emergency vehicles. (Fear of erosion, you know).

Because they could directly access the flames the Lobster feed boys were their usual awesome selves. They contained the smoldering fire to less than an acre.

We should also apologize that, like my father taught us, our neighbors had cleared acres of underbrush. The fire couldn’t find any decent fuel, so it practically starved to death on the meager grasses and leaves, leaving all the trees.

Had the “De-commissioners” had their way, thousands of acres would have burned. Interesting. Erosion from a dirt road 12 feet wide, bad. Erosion from thousands of burned acres, good. Hmmmm…..

Oddly, last Thursday we had attended a conference where we were told the State thinks off stream irrigation dams are bad. Yet, the chopper scooped up water to douse this fire from just such a small reservoir. How many trees did that pond save? Once again, sorry it is there.

‘Tiz a puzzlement. To prevent erosion you have to cause a little. To save trees, you’ve got to cut some. To have a healthy turkey population, you have to cull it. To live among peaceful vines, you’ve got to put up with some noise.

The world is filled with contradictions. From all of us to all of you, we apologize. We didn’t make the rules.