A short hiatus turned into a clear-eyed look at what this show stands for: celebrating the normal, telling honest stories, and making love a verb. I open up about rescheduling interviews, moving house, and why I’m choosing to weave my own perspective into the conversations you hear—so you know the “why” behind every question I ask.

That takes us straight into the question people keep sending: are you a Christian? I walk through why I stepped away from denominational leadership out of integrity, not resentment, and where I stand on the pulpit-politics divide. We also crack open a supposed feud between faith and science. If curiosity is honest, a geologist’s lifetime of study doesn’t threaten belief; it deepens wonder. The Bible reads like a library of human experience with God, shaped by language and time, and worth approaching with humility rather than fear.

From there, we get practical. Love is not a mood; it’s a form. 1 Corinthians 13 becomes an instruction manual: refuse performative care, suffer with people patiently, and stop keeping ledgers. In marriage, that means serving each other in small, concrete ways—trash out, socks picked up, meals cooked—because service builds trust and endurance. We talk about growing out of childishness while keeping a childlike curiosity, and we sit with the “foggy mirror” of time: how to move with faith and hope when the details are unclear. If culture pushes us toward isolation, the antidote is ordinary kindness. Coach a team, pick up trash, hold a door, forgive the lane change. Quiet service is how love stays real.

If this resonates, stick around. We’ve lined up everyday voices from Santa Cruz—neighbors, strangers, old friends—whose stories remind us why humanity matters. Subscribe, share with a friend, and leave a review with one small act of service you’ll try this week.

The story starts with following Chris Balthasar from a Swiss-American childhood in Philadelphia and winds through Hollywood backlots, a B-movie alligator, and a surreal day in a Sonic the Hedgehog suit getting heckled by Tony Danza all day-then pivots into law, environmental advocacy, and a move to Santa Cruz that finally felt like home. Chris takes us on a winding road with uncommon honesty, connecting big breaks and bigger heartbreaks to the simple habits that keep him grounded: food choices with purpose, a community that welcomes you as you are, and the discipline of Jiu-Jitsu.

We explore how a single book, Diet for a New America, reshaped his view of health and ethics and led to meaningful work with EarthSave. We dig into his time at a major plaintiffs’ firm in what turned into the movie Aaron Brockovich without him even knowing. He shares the emotional whiplash of career shifts, and why Santa Cruz’s quirky, collaborative culture changed his sense of belonging. Along the way, we talk candidly about wealth sitting beside work boots, street music and science labs, and a shared commitment to the redwoods and the bay that cuts across politics.

Jiu-Jitsu threads it all together. Chris trained at the original Gracie academies in the early 90s, stepped away for years, then came back in a personal storm—businesses failing, marriage ending, savings evaporating. The mat became therapy and tribe. He set a terrifying goal, entered the Pan Ams, which is one of the most important tournaments in the US, and walked out with gold and no points scored against him. We unpack how trust, mercy, and presence define the art, why fundamentals beat fads, and how the sport has evolved without losing its heart.

Gratitude, he says, is the real engine: waking up healthy, loved, and in a place that fits.

If you’re navigating change, looking for a community that heals, or curious how Santa Cruz quietly reshapes people, this conversation will land. Subscribe, share with a friend who needs some hope, and leave a review to help others find the show.

What happens when a kid from São Paulo lands in Santa Cruz and discovers a town where surfing, jiu-jitsu, and community can actually shape the way you live? We go deep with Rafael Eboli—longtime local, Cafe Brazil mainstay, and black belt professor at Claudio Franca Jiu Jitsu Academies—on how a six-month plan turned into a life built around waves, trust, and family.

Rafael shares why Santa Cruz clicked: the ocean as a daily classroom, in a culture that rewards respect over noise, and a gym where people are learning to kill each other, yet leave more connected. We unpack the sharp differences between judo and jiu-jitsu, how humility shows up because the mat tells the truth, and why tapping on time is a profound lesson in empathy. He explains the unwritten rules of the lineup, why regulation matters for safety, and how coming from a high-pressure city shaped his early edge—and the mellow he earned later from a town that embraced him.

This is also about balance and purpose. We talk hangovers punished by white belts, the quiet discipline of training three to four times a week, and the strange joy of pain that signals growth rather than damage. Rafael opens up about fatherhood, teaching, and building a life that prioritizes presence over performance. From West Side crowds to East Side community, from Cafe Brazil’s warmth to the hard warm-ups that make people swear and smile, you’ll hear what keeps him here: trust, mercy, and the people who practice both.

If you’ve ever wondered how surf etiquette meets self-control, or how a combat art becomes a safe haven, this conversation offers a grounded, human map. Subscribe, share with a friend who loves Santa Cruz or jiu-jitsu, and leave a review with your favorite takeaway. Where do you practice trust in your life?

Mercy isn’t the word most people expect from a fighting art—but that’s exactly where we start. We sit down with Master Claudio Franca, who left Rio de Janeiro in the mid-90s with little more than a gi, a surfer’s heart, and a mission to plant Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu in Santa Cruz long before it anybody have ever heard of it. He opens up about early challenge matches, skeptical onlookers, and how a rough surf town learned to love the “gentle art” that wins with control, not damage.

From choosing Santa Cruz over the sprawl of SoCal to building a school that feels like family, Claudio traces the evolution of BJJ from a niche curiosity to a global community. We explore why the first lesson is learning how to lose—and how that rewires ego, patience, and resilience more than any medal ever could. The stories flow from Gracie lineage and the roots of self-defense to quiet transformations: kids finding their voice, women setting boundaries, and stressed adults walking out calmer than they walked in.

The conversation turns raw when we talk about COVID: a shuttered gym, teammates training in garages, and the grief of those we lost. When the mats reopened, Claudio’s joy was simple and profound—I forgot how much I love this. He describes the dojo as the most democratic room in the county: cops and former rivals, rich and broke, teens and sixty-year-olds, immigrants and locals—all solving problems together, one round at a time. If you’ve ever wondered how BJJ can be both fierce and kind, this is your map to the mindset, the community, and the deeper health that keeps people coming back.

If this resonated, share it with a friend who needs the mat, subscribe for more grounded conversations, and leave a review telling us the first lesson Jiu-Jitsu taught you.

A shy kid from Live Oak skates to school, paddles out at Pleasure Point, and learns quickly that lineups have rules you won’t find on the beach signs. Then a jiu-jitsu academy opens behind his house, and everything changes. Nathan Mendelsohn’s story isn’t a straight line from surf to mats; it’s a layered map of belonging—how a combat art became a family, how Brazil reshaped a Santa Cruz mindset, and how loyalty can feel both territorial and generous depending on which door you walk through.

We dive into the unfiltered realities of Santa Cruz surf culture—status games, heckles, and the pressure to fight for a place—and contrast them with what Nathan found on the mats: older competitors who asked where he’d been, packed cars headed to tournaments, and a crew that measured worth by consistency, not image. From there we explore Brazil’s imprint on identity: the pride in presentation, the fierce us-versus-them loyalty, and the way Rio’s urgency trains you to move through crowds—and around life—without losing your calm. Along the way, Nathan shares what it takes to coach well now: protecting tradition without turning students into customers, building elite rooms without breaking people, and teaching the too-hard white belt to become safe for others and himself.

We also get practical about self-defense. No chest-pounding, just clear truths: space is your friend, running is a strategy, and jiu-jitsu’s value is control under stress, not internet heroics. And when the world feels loud and hopeless, we settle on a grounded optimism: keep showing up, keep rolling, keep surfing. That discipline—quiet, steady, communal—is the antidote to despair.

If you’re curious about Santa Cruz culture, Brazilian jiu-jitsu, real self-defense, or how community can change a life, this one’s for you. Listen, share with a friend who needs a nudge back to the mat, and if this conversation resonated, subscribe and leave a review so more people can find it.

Aiming to stop conflict nearly broke us; learning to create peace brought us back. That’s the arc we explore with our guest, Graseilah Coolidge—born in Iowa, raised in Venezuela through coups and shutdowns, trained in nonproliferation, and recruited into intelligence after 9/11. The work was high‑stakes and mission‑driven, until a harsh realization landed: data doesn’t always drive decisions when agendas are in play. When that worldview cracked, she didn’t double down on noise; she went to the redwoods.

We talk about forest immersion as a practical, grounded practice: days in nature with water, warmth, and no distractions; fasting that quiets the body; stillness that lets memory and meaning surface. Senses sharpen. Awe returns. Priorities reorder. And because belonging is medicine, the process is held in community so reintegration is real, not just a peak moment. We dig into why fear spreads so easily in a media economy, how data addiction can bankrupt attention, and why presence—not more information—is the antidote. Santa Cruz becomes a character in this story: a place of radical expression and prickly borders, contradictions and care, redwoods and neighborhood kindness that keep us rooted as the town keeps changing.

We also get practical about civic agency. Voting won’t hand us peace, but it’s one lever that keeps space open for peace to grow. If America is a promise to keep trying, we renew that promise by showing up: in the booth, under the trees, with our neighbors. Come for the intelligence-to-intuition pivot; stay for the tools—fasting, attention, community—that make peace a daily practice. If you’re ready to trade doomscrolling for presence and find a more resilient way to live, press play, share with someone who needs it, and leave a review to help more listeners find the show.

Check out Graseilah’s work on the links below…

https://epicgatherings.com/graseilah/

https://youtu.be/mvyG_URZEr8?si=PBjQjMR7_g34K7am

What does it truly mean to coach youth sports in today's hyper-competitive world? In this candid conversation, host Michael "Coach Powers" Howard sits down with Little League coaches Matt Kuhn and Frank Schonig to unpack the beautiful mess that is youth baseball in Santa Cruz County.

The trio begins by sharing their uniquely Santa Cruz upbringings – from Frank's "mountain boy" childhood with dirt bike tracks and paintball courses on 10 acres of redwoods to Matt's journey from Ben Lomond to Live Oak. Their stories capture a freedom and independence that shaped their coaching philosophies years later. Neither planned to become baseball coaches, but as Frank puts it, they were "the last assholes standing" when volunteers were needed. What started as a way to spend time with their sons evolved into something much deeper.

At the heart of their coaching approach is a revolutionary idea: winning matters, but it's not everything. "Culture is the behavior that is acceptable for the team," Matt explains as they discuss building environments where kids feel safe to fail. Frank, drawing from his firefighter background, teaches players to focus on "controllables" – attitude and effort – while developing the "goldfish mentality" to quickly move past mistakes. Together with their coaching pod, they've created a space where practices feel like birthday parties, complete with sing-alongs and dancing, yet still produce championship teams.

The coaches don't shy away from tough topics, confronting the ego that drives all coaches while acknowledging that success can be measured in different ways – not just by wins and losses, but by whether kids return the following season and leave games happy regardless of the score. Their mission extends beyond developing athletes to raising "good humans" who will strengthen their community.

For parents considering coaching, their message is clear: don't be intimidated by lack of experience. Everyone brings different strengths, and coaching doesn't have to be done alone. The rewards – seeing young people develop determination, grit, and meaningful connections – far outweigh the challenges.

Ready to rethink your approach to youth sports? Listen now and discover how three ordinary guys created extraordinary experiences for kids through baseball.

Ever wonder what it's like to grow up inside "a bubble within a bubble"? Neil Sprenkel takes us into the unique world of Capitola, California—where neighborhoods feel like sanctuaries and surf spots become territories with unwritten rules that shape young lives in profound ways.

When his parents divorced during his seventh grade year, Neil found himself drawn deeper into surfing—not just as a sport, but as therapy. "I would go underwater and scream until I felt that energy leave my body," he reveals, describing how the ocean became his sanctuary during emotional turmoil. This raw confession opens the door to a broader truth: "Half of surfers surf because of trauma," Neil observes. Not that they choose surfing because of trauma, but they discover its healing qualities and can't let go.

The conversation takes a remarkable turn as Neil shares his deliberate journey toward mental health through a year of sobriety and silence. "I wanted my behavior to be true and intentional," he explains, detailing how therapy helped him break down emotional barriers built since childhood. Through this process, he discovered what genuine joy feels like—perhaps for the first time—and now wakes up energized even without an alarm clock. "I think I'm happy," he tells his girlfriend, almost surprised by the realization.

Both Neil and host Michael Howard explore how their relationship with surfing has evolved from competitive identity to something more peaceful and intentional. Their shared experiences reveal how confronting wounds, embracing silence, and practicing presence can transform not just our relationship with sports like surfing, but with ourselves and everyone around us.

Have you been seeking clarity in your own life? Or wondering how to break free from patterns that no longer serve you? This conversation might just be the nudge you need to dive beneath the surface of your own story. Subscribe now and join us for more authentic conversations that explore the true impact of Santa Cruz culture on the people who call it home.