Pidgin English / Whats the frequency, Kenneth?

Humidity. Heat. Blazing blue skys. Green valleys. Dry grasslands.

"Eh, no make li'dat cuz, pilikia 'bout da wedder, you make ere'boddy huhu"

"Dont complain about the weather, my friend, you will anger everyone"

Pidgin english. Like creole, I guess. A mind melding of hawaiian language, botched english, Japanese, Chinese, and just about anything else you care to throw into the mix. Does not go over well when interviewing for employment. Tourists will interpet you as speaking from Martian based areas. To survive public school in the islands, you better know when and when not to use it. Survival will depend on using it correctly, and at the proper times. You dont want to be ordering in the Kings English at the local manapua stand. (Chinese baked or steamed breads, stuffed with anything from pork or chicken, veggies, domesticated cat. (Just kiding on the cat)

Sometimes in the span of a 24 hour shift at the firehouse, we can go from the slums of Waikiki, to the million dollar homes that grace the "gold coast", right next door. So command of language, sometimes foregin, can be an assest. It can be pretty damn funny 'tho too.

It is an island, and in that, it is common knowledge that you are more than likely related to the person next you. The commanality of that is called Ohana - family. Everybody knows somebody that you know, as well. So secerts, well if you got them, you might not want to share them. 'Cause someone somewhere will know you, see you, and relate that secret to those you may not want to know.

And firemen are the worst. "telephone, telegraph, tellafireman" Like I said before, there are no secrets in the 'house. You fears will be found out, as well as your strengths. In there, somewhere is the reasoning behind this post.

Just had my promotional interview. 10 years in the making. It went well, and spoke the kings english repeatedly. Answered the questions the way they should, and said the shit they wanted to hear.

So i get promoted.

Whoooo. More money. More responsibility. Assignments are next. So I wait. And wait. Chief Killa, one of the gnarliest, coolest, for-the-men&the-public chiefs a guy could want, knows where I want to be assigned. And yeah, I have been doing him favors. I left my home station to come to his to help him out of a bind. And now I drive him, (nuts, mostly) and gofer about. It's one of the jobs I could be assigned. Or back to my home station, driving the back of the Ladder Truck. (best damn postion in the department) Needless to say, where I want to be.

So chances are good that I will get where I deserve/want.

Not so fast, kimosabe.

Fire2, #2, bigdog, hatchet man for #1. Calls and assigns me to........

Alarm Bureau.

Answering 911 calls in the basement.

I mean.....WTF?

And the whole department knows, and unbeliveable to me, almost all the guys on our watch are....pissed.

The assignments arent written in stone, so who knows in the next few days, but the one feeling i got, was damn, I got some respect from the boys, they gave a shit about the draw.

That feels good.

Aloha.