Wave Of The Day - Sunset added bonus

Yes, Sweetness.

State of the union address, nothing in it for me. So far detatched from the reality of largeness that the continental US of A is, I can not really be bothered. Yeah, I should care, but the fact is I vote; so I complain about the politicos as well as I sing in the shower. Voting is a great right, and everyone who can, should.

Off the soapbox and into the revolving doors of chaos!

Lacking formal training in life scenarios, getting by with what meager remanants are left of my grey matter. Scattered bits of normalcy would be quite appreciated now. Even the mailman is abusing me. Getting others mail, and they getting mine, are but a speck of the frustrations. Its mostly junk mail, but its another glitch in the system of being that rides me like a wedgie.

The girls are back in quarters, and scents of womanhood are in the house. That being said, they are on a roll now, that is for sure. I feel like disconnecting phones, being unreachable, and stand in a corner and rant. Rant on. And perhaps throw a huge can of gasoline on the fire that is my interior anger. Anger so usueless. If channeling it was attainable, I could conquer anything.

But it needs to be leashed.

On a strong chain.

The links in that chain need to be forged well; the flood of emotions it holds back carry jetsam and floatsam of wrongs many years past. What is so hard about forgivenss? Why so out of reach? What draws the line where forgiveness is actually a weakness? Or perceived as that? It tends to be my feeling that in forgiving a wrong, those surrounding me see it as weakness, or stupidity.

I hate being conned.

Maybe thats because you cant bullshit a bullshitter?

Is what is in the mirror a reflection wanted? Or is it just some made-up exsistence, trying to flounder about, before the returning tide?

I am going surfing tomorrow.

And it will be better.



Put my arse on the back of a Ladder truck

Hang On

Driving the back of an open Ladder Truck is a rush.

Expunged...& wave of the day

No, He don't.

If he did, he would probably be a kook.

Wave Of The Day

Ignore the politico edge to the surf photo above, just dont think he would, if he could, surf. That would be his problem, not mind. If my heart was as messed up as his is, I'd cut the stress, bro, fo' real.

The women of the house are going to Maui 'morrow. What for, beats me. I guess Aunty R wants to see her family, and Lady C & The Maimai girl are tagging along. Working is in for me, so I will be slugging along the path of least control.

The days move by so bloody fast. My schedule of work this job, work that job, and inbetween move a tree, finish the bathroom, reorganize the storage, etc. etc, ETC! Is not making it move any slower. I guess it is up to meself to quiet down the pace, even if I am naturally hyper. More like hyper-hyper. Coffee doesnt help that either, now would it? There are times when i can slow the runaway train down, just a tad, by going deep into nowhere land.

Nowhere land.

How would i describe it? If i were a Doctor of medicine, it would maybe be classified as a TIA, or a Transient Ischemic Attack. "Zoning out" or a recoverable mini-stroke, or space-out. More likely it is a turning inward, a spell of time where i am thinking, but ever so deeply, about, really nothing. Just floating thoughts around, ideas, memories, glances back in time. Recalling pictures in my head of whatevers, surf, people, snippets of experience.
The thing about that is, of late, it just wells up shit in me. By saying "wells up shit" is the best descrption I have of welling up tears. And crying is a weird thing. It isnt really sorrowful crying, neither is it joyous. It is just, for want of a better pharse -

"shit welling up"

Flaky crusted, maybe, but deep inside there is reasons. Reasons I may not be too clear on, reasons that may be clear. Emotions. Feelings. Senses. What is it? It is some non-descript non-tangible thingy, that just happens.

Then it gets expunged.

It'll be gone, my manhood will be intact, and the shit goes away. Not that tears are not manly, but walking around town streaming is no way to present ones self. And a facade goes up, it repels the questions, it rejects the interview, it relents to the norm.

Kinda like being a quitter.

I hate quitting.

Trudge on dear heart, accomplish what goals you set for yourself and others, depend on nothing but your own mind, your own ability, your own way.

Do something.

Do it well.

Give it your all.

Words of inspiration, words of hope.

Ramble on.

Good weekends to all.



Slabs Of Stuffage

When time and responsibility collide, it sure seems that I come out short sheeted. Yesterdays 24 @ Firecom wasnt all that bad. If you consider people calling and asking if Flames go with Fire, or listening to someones mate explain how their partner in time is hanging over the tub and turning blue, being not that bad, then I guess it wasnt harsh.

I apologize for lack of postage, but pups been ragged on work, and work has been well, Imposing its effects on moi. Not minding the slings and arrows (hey, thanks, eh, stolen quotes.com!) of a growing teenage dotter, minding the fact of arsehole kid being arsehole minoradult, hey frick it, lifes good.

Rats ass, I refuse to succumb to the pressures that abound. Really. The thing is, when you look at the pressures any of us face, it is really manini. (small)

i do not have a child of challenge.

i have a home.

i have a love that is boundless.

i have surf.

i have all my facilities, i am not totally (F***ed) up.

i can appreciate diffrences in this world.

I am lucky enough to perceive life, and with a load of humor, appreciate diffrences.

But I sense a incomplete man, because he cannot communicate with a child he loves.

And what that does, is infect all the good I can do, all I can be, all I can accomplish, because that fact, no matter how hard it is to try to ignore, it rakes me.

And as I have a respect for family, a respect for the the whole being that a family is, it hurts. it hurts that i can talk someone out of death, but I can not bring my kin to see life, life that is as beautiful as everyday is at its start, how everyday brings possibility, how it brings the glory of God, the glory of dawn the glory of each day.

I can say alotta shit.

But it seems i cant find the words to ...


Gimme shelter.

Gimme words.

Gimme something i havent said, something I havent tried.

that will make a difference.

making difference.

Thats what i am aiming for.



Sand underfoot

There is a recurring smell that invades the senses at times in the water. Salt water has an aroma of its own, but on certain days, it combines with a scent of the ocean that is hints of flowers. Sure that flower may be the seaweed, or fish or algae blooms occurring, but it reminds me of how intense smells can be. Ocean breeze, salt air; whipped by winds. It strikes me as funny how it will remind me of things good, and not-as-good.
The mimeograph paper smell of recently ditto'ed sheets. I hated that smell. It always meant a quiz, or test, which 90% of the time I failed to prepare for. It meant stares from the teacher, as I would search my mind for what could possibly be the correct answer, hoping for some devine intervention to arise, and stand by my side and aid in my need. More often than not, it was a devine whack to the head of "shoulda, woulda, coulda". It took alot of non-lethal 'whacks' for doofus-boy to get the picture.
Smells of my Grammar's hale, (house). She always baked. Cooked up a storm. She would make Portuguese Sweet Rolls, with enough butter to kill an army, but were sooo good. On Shrove Tuesday, she always made Malasadas. The sweet doughy bun/roll of coffee delights.
My Tutu Kane's (grandpa) lighter. He smoked his pipe, and had this cylindrical shaped lighter that slid open in the middle to light his pipe. The Ronson's Lighter Fluid smell is a smell that drags my brain right back to 1965-1977. Everyday of that time, I can sense his being here when that smell is in the air.
Momhmark's smoking in our car on the way to school when I was in grade school. I got so sick of smelling Tareyton's, that one day I told her - "I wish you'd quit, 'cause I dont want you to die of Cancer"
She quit that day.

Saltwater running out of my nose in the middle of the night. After a good surf, some residual splashes always leak out, warmed by body heat. Weird, friendly sensation.

The medicinal smell of the dentist/doctor/hospital. It used to conjure up "shit, what did I do to myself Now" thoughts, but now it brings floods of memories both rescued, and final.

Somehow, smells of flowers always relax me. The sweet scent of ginger, pikake, even the blooms of mock-orange hedges, all delight my brain. I had a bunch of ginger in my truck while I was at Firecom, and when I got in this morning, it felt good to walk into that cloud.

But reality smells of nothing.

It repeats and endless drone of repitions, that boarder on putrid.

Aroma of it is not unlike erasure shavings. A mistake. Correct it. Not white-out correct smell.

But to correct it with bold strokes of new ink.

Change the color?

Use a fatter width pen?

Maybe pencil, so it isnt permanent.

Does not really matter the choice.

Because in the air,

something will linger.



Rick Griffin - Artwork



When you have nothing to do, move a tree

Kohnster- "I want a Samoan Coconut tree"

HM- "Uh,... Ok"

Kohnster- "A guy in Kailua has one he wants to get rid of"

HM - "Uh,....Ok"

Kohnster- "Wanna help?"

HM- "Uh, um,....Ok"

Kohnster- "Shouldnt be toooooooo hard"

HM- "Uh,... Ok"

Kohnster- "Pick, shovel, li' dat, should be 'nuff"

HM- "Uh, Um...Ok"

I get myself into more trouble with answers like that.

Killed By Tree
Moving On Up
Dig, Move, Plant
Smile now, fools

Pix order = bottom to top.




It is amazing how in over almost 80 years, things hardly change.

The Massie Affair

Great show, sorrowful acts.


Good fun.

Less not more, stress.

So be it.



Cell Phone 911

Transfer of info -

Operator: Fire department.
Girl: I'm in Waikiki Yacht Club and we're sinking in the car. And I can't open the door.
Operator: What is happening?
Girl: I'm in the car and I can't open the door and the water is coming in and we're sinking! No, I don't wanna drown!
Operator: Waikiki Yacht Club?
Girl: Yes!
Operator: Okay, we're sending some trucks.
Girl: Please, hurry!

Knee jerk reaction.

We handle a gazillion calls in 24 hours.

Cell phones are not ID'ed on the screen with a number, just a provider.

So we try to get info, get location, get details, find out WTF is going on.

By ear.

So to say that one needs more training to hear, strikes me as quite ironic.

A huge number of calls are not EMERGENCY related. You cant say - "Yo numbnuts, 911 MEANS emergency, what motherfrickin door were you behind when the brains were passed out?"

No, you gotta be PR friendly.

I can deal that.

It wasnt me, but what if it was?

Now i gotta question my own powers of digging out info.

Just what I need.

More work.


link to more on the story

Playing Dodge The Temper

Even the Angels must get pissed once in awhile, I assume. I will bet that God him/herself, probably gets a tad miffed-off at this creation of his, looking at what we trash, abuse, and generally dont care for.

Mother Teresa; I can see a ruffle in the peaceful serenity of her being, maybe after running into the bureaucartic bullshit in Delhi. Gahndi, Mandela, major-domo peacemakers, you gotta figure these dudes blew a gasket once or twice in a lifetime, right?

So what is it, that for yours truly, grinds down my psychi if I sprout a rage here and there?

Not an inferno, but in all honesty, I can do a REAL good impression of an erupting volcano, complete with earth tremors.

Entitlement? I dont think so. Great persons are able to control, or funnel anger into productive avenues. Tired? Excuses are bullshit. If I claim to be improving my handling of an emotion as slippery as anger, I should look not at excuses as an avenue.

It is a given that i dont demand much, and that perhaps is looked at as a weakness by certain products of me loinage. Well, sexual intercourse that! What i do ask for is ....

common sense, honesty, and (heavens!) respect, of self, of property.

So if capitulating to that is not a possibility, maybe you can do better somewhere else!

'cause the path being taken is leading to nothing but misery, and I have cried enough for your okole. (ass)

Look in the mirror, bro.

Do yourself favor, and take a peek.

Do you see what the rest of us see? Or is the reflection clouding all that you view?

Stop believing your own bullshit, maybe you would earn some respect from the one most important.


'cause too, there is only so much this dam can hold back, and I dare say the waterline is getting close to breeching *

* (- I am sooooooo pissed, that even surfing is unable to cancel anger!)


Ventings a good thing.

Orchid Stays, Small tile on floor moved

Wave of the day (backside view, cause I missed it)

Warning Pillar erected at China Walls surf spot by Lifeguards & HFD
Cockaroach view

Aloha. No free time.


Sun will come up tomorrow tho' - and I will wait.


Work Sucks.

Yesterday at Hotel De Hell - Bad. Really bad. Nothing like the computer system going down to Frick up the day.

24 hour firecom. So far so good.

Lady C deciding to take up tile that she didnt care for - Hmmmmm OK, but I got sand in my shorts.

Kids acting like, well, kids. - - Grrrr.

14 y/o femme fatales acting like femme fatales..... Grrrr X2.

Sun will come up tomorrow.

It better.

Sorry, Z, Writer Momish, dont know why the F the things doing that.

No email notify, either.


....Spock ya laters!



Surf, Surf, Surf, give my arse for a surf * (wave of the day)






Itchy feets.

Really, really, R E A L L Y ...itchy feets.

At least I am not the asshole at the restaurant tonight who decided to loudly rant over the unavailability of a ocean front table...

(i am not mentioning the fact that THE WHOLE FRICKING restaurant is on the beach, but i digress...)

People are morons.

Why take anger with you on vacation?

What bloody good does it do?

He embarassed himself, his wife, his family.

He is a Doctor, too.

Itchy feets was soooooooooooo close to a roundhouse, see ya later,goodnight nurse,take this job and shove it, when the hostess came back to the back of the house in tears.

But then I'd be a dumbass, just like Dr. Thomas Starrett.

Who lives at...

Nah. I am not that bad.





B4 & After...Her shampoosies boxes

She hasn't seen either yet...(she has been working )



Nucking Futs

Her surprise

Tired ass hawaiian. .... ...
Do you know? Do you have any idea? What my heart feels for you, what it feels for life, what it feels for those in distress, what it feels for the hurt, the hurtful, the confused.
Do you know?
What I would give to see a smile alight the face of one so disheartened.
What I would give for peace.
What I would give for the softest of breezes upon your soul, you son, you confused, you distraught, you unfulfilled.
What I would give.
I would give my being, my life, my eternity to see joy caress your mind.
What I would give.

I give you my heart.
I give you my patience.
I give you,


I love you. .... ...



2 fer Tuesday - WOTD (waves of the day)

THIS is a bumper sticker
Owl Eyes



Mr. Exhausted hits the sheets

After 14 days of 3 hours or less sleep, Mr. Exahusted hit the sheets and moi-moi'ed for extra 4 hours of dream time. Back to the hotel of last resort, and gear up for the next 2 weeks.

'morrow looks like a good day to say F - it!

Whats playing in the juke now -

Former Stoner Muzak

Who needs Lunesta, when you got exhaustion?


Aloha. .... ...


Def Thoughts / I Wonder / What Do You Think?

Wave of the day

Maile was watching some junk TV today while I was tiling and harassing the leak, it was a show on the moola paid to stars for whatever reason.

And it crossed my feeble mind -

How do you spend more than a couple of million in a lifetime?

Surely a portion could go to something good, something better than spoils of the rich turdious.

Most of the tile is done, the leak vanquished, at work....

No surf ....AGAIN!

Still yet tho' -



What a difference a year makes

Some of you may have seen/read this drivel already. But it has been a year, soooo -

It was a year ago, 'morrow, at about 1100 or so, that we got the call for Aloha Drive apartment fire. It is a funny feeling to look at these photos again. I really can feel the adrenaline flow, the heat of the inferno that the apartment was. There was some gnarly shit, a DOA, and a another victim who coded later on. The entire apartment blew right after we got the DOA out from behind the door. Weird, strange conflicting feelings. If he had not died, and blocked the door, forcing us to remove him, there would perhaps have been 4 of us dead, or severely injured. I never felt heat like that in my career.

God protects those who protect, I guess.

Aloha Drive Fire
Aloha Drive Fire 2
Aloha Drive Fire 3

Peace out, I gotta a meeting with a leak in the AM.



Lessons in bitching

This is a professional at work. I will have to remeber it when the 'lectric bill comes due.

Okie Gas

This was the post from above it I like the "I'll drive 4 seconds at a time"

I laughed so hard I hadda pee.

Driving 4 seconds at a time

Back to work.


Sunrise/Sunset/Ocean/Her Majesty's Boxes/Evil Plumbing

After 24 at Firecom, came home to the wonder of leaks, and the laying of tiles albeit I had to make a gazillion and a half cuts, circles, and half-moons to get the suckers in. It looks pretty good, tho' once the red is all covered up, it will have the feel we were trying for...I hope (it BETTER!).

The Lady C's Boxes for shampoosies
More !
Sunset off the ...'Otel
My nemesis

Forays in tile laying, (or cut, cut, cut and cut again)

Hotel seafood buffet tonight, means 300 covers, cranking waiters, and getting home late, only to rise and shine Saturday morning, to do it all over again.


Surf needed.




Cursed Plumber - Who Me? - Yeah bonehead, YOU!

You figure a simple thing like plumbing would be a simple task for a simple man.

No way.

No how.

No mas! No mas! No mas!

Officialy, forever more, I hate plumbing.

Just a simple hook up the new faucet,

(which because of the height of the new vanity, needed to have the hoses extended, which of course, were incorrectly marked 1/2" & 1/2" by the wonderful folks at the EVIL empire of home improvment, City Mill)

(which also of course, meant the drain popper thingy needed to be extended)

(which meant, by gosh, that the P-Trap, drain connection, straight pipe, ALL had to be extended)

Then all you have to do is connect all the parts, add washers, tighten nuts, cross fingers, say a rosary, stand on my head and fut rubber nickels.......

I started at 0930 this morning.

I turned on the water for the first time at 300PM.

Texas is playing the evil USC Trojans for the National Championship in the Rose Bowl, which started at 300PM Hawaii time.

3PM Hawaiian Standard Time is when the water flowed through the whole set-up...

and of course, 3PM is when the damn thing leaked for the first time.

So i went to the shower, washed up, and now am at the Hotel, and tomorrow I will be back at Firecom for 24, during which time I will constantly, consistently, be amazed at how absolutely horrendous a plumber I am.

I mean really, is there like a plumbing saint?

St. Faucet?

St. Drip?

St. somethingorother?

I bet there is a gathering of plumbers having a beer or 3, and laughing their collective asses off at me, right now.

Come Friday, I will defeat the leak.

Duct tape, welding, nuclear weapons, it matters not, I will swim the ocean that I have caused, and the damn thing will work.

Either that or I am calling a real Plumber.




They swapped my meds for Skittles

Even though it has been a decade plus of being in the firehouse, I still stand in awe of humanity. For sure, there are times at the second job of “hotelwhoshallnotbenamed” where I question the maker of some kindred spirits.

Tired man talking! We are not responsible for the ramblings of this madman! *** (public service announcement brought to by responsible writers/thinkers of America) ***

The Old Year ended as busy as it always is, with the sound of fireworks reverbing through the muggy, still Hawaiian night. Make that 10,000 phone calls to Firecom; on a still, muggy Hawaiian night. Not much on the richter, but busy – mucho busy. The regular 24 for the first was no better, with the requisite complaints from the night before festivities. Patience paid dividends, and made it through tired, unscathed ‘cept for the jumper call.

This is not particularly pleasant, so be forewarned.

EMS calls us to co-respond with them to one of the Hotels in Waikiki. The crews that are on duty on the first are the guys I know best. If you have watched TV, they have a show called ‘Third Watch” or something like that, it may be cancelled for all I know. Anyway, I was part of First Watch on our schedule of work. So the guys, I know them all pretty well. EMS call about the jumper, and relays that it a possible double suicide off the **lton **tel, not sure if it is 2 kids, or a Parent & child. I don’t mean this to shock, but for the call to be unsure, it had to have been a mess. And the crew that is going is being led by one of my very good friends. In the seconds from taking the call, inputting the alarm, and dispatching the company, I got a hold of my friend, and informed him of what was to be expected. Stoic is his middle name. Dedicated, God fearing, could be his last name. With no time for pleasantries, I spoke, he listened, and off they went. They get to the scene. And it is 1 victim, a 3 y/o, who fell 8 stories.

I cant go into what if, who shoulda, or point a finger. There is a little life gone, and that sucks.

My friend who is leading the crew to this alarm does there best, and does what can be done, concidering. When he called back later that evening, and said only – “that was a rough one” You could have yanked my soul out and trampled it, cause I wouldn’t have known it was gone.

The line of work is not particularly glamorous, we get dirty a lot, we run into a host of types of people. We always jump at the alarms that have the word ‘child’ in them. There are times when I thought that scenes like this would make me calloused, but in reality, it has made me care more. And it is in that caring that I find myself dwelling on quite a lot. I can hear children crying anywhere, be it the store, the beach, just ANYWHERE. And all I want them to do is not cry. Not feel pain. Not feel fear. Have them feel engulfed in protection and love. I have to stop myself at times from saying to myself – “Its OK little guy/sister, no cry, its alright” – ‘Cause sometimes its not a cry of woe. Where the caring for each of us comes from, the heart, it carries so much. Our life blood, our love, our courage, strength and forbearance.

I wish it could take hold of a little hand once in awhile.

Forgive me, like I said, tired, and someone swapped my meds for Skittles.



"Sink"ing feeling

Not busy enough, I tiled, and Naka's came and put the sink in. Now all I gotta do is do the plumbing...

We all know how THAT goes.......

Sink Is

See ya, gotta work the Hotel ..



WOTD *wave of the day

Finished 36 hours at firecom - depressing stuff, but the new year marks a new start.

Hotel for 6 hours of unbelievable folk...one cutie family and tremendous amounts of fools...

Tiled some shower the results to come I gotta go meet an appointment...

Damn but I am tired..............................

Other day wave of the day

More good stuffs laters....