Huntington Beach, California

Kaleo James In da House
Kaleo James has showed up for the new millenium.

California will never be the same.

Pix as soon as I rip the camera from Lady C




Ocean water awaits. Diving into the ocean, anytime, becomes a new experience. Never the same, always different.

So tomorrow I dive into grandpappyhood.

What is it going to be like? I have not a clue. It will be like that first leap into anything. Trepidation. Concern. Worry like shit.

I am a fixer. Fix dis and fix dat. What I excel at is fixing the disasters of my/our time. I could do without the knowledge.

Where would I be without the knowledge? Prolly pretty far off the cusp. Maybe not able to accept and handle the deals that are dealt. Am I dealt poorly? Nada. You play with what you get handed. It wont always be perfection, it wont always be glowing. But you take that, and multiply the crap outta it, and come up spades.

And always pray for a fullhouse.

And if you dont get the fullhouse, you bluff 'em til they fold.

And if they call your bluff, you come back, suck up the loss...

And play again.

All under a steely eyed glare of determination.




What seperates mere exsistence from from full-on joyous living.

It is in you.

(gatorade stole the shit from me)

All peace this memorial day weekend to you all, and god save California, we be coming.



The Surfing Cure-all

Went surfing today.

Blue Room Cure

The crew, (Lady C & Eldest) leave 'morrow. Me and the Kiddo on Wed.

Saw a pod of Dolphins in the water this morning.

Caught a bunch of stress releasers.

Work at her pinkness now.

Surfing, sun, some waves and some time to ponder what is ponderable.

Back to center.



Damage, Inc.

In all life some rain must fall. Somebody said that, someone much wiser tham myself. Someone with a whole bunch of experience in life.

The past bunch of days has had - 36 hours at Firecom, Nuclear meltdown at the homestead, unreal frustration levels with the Lady C, mega-stressed out-o-finout-o 911 calls, (mothers day was not happy for 1 family, details left unsaid), No mothers day swell relief for this pup, (altho' Monday looks promising) Taxation supreme for my stress level.

Other than that it is friggin' great.

Kaleo James, (grandson yet to show-up) is on the verge. Which means -

1. I gotta make res for LA.
2. Float 4 pax, and deal with the scared-e cat Lady C.
3. Figger out how the hell to do all that w/out going bonkers.

Add to the mix - the Hotel De Heckage and our unions contract is up, so negotiations are on going. The last strike was pre-fire employ, which had me working construction and reeling in tiredness.

Hmmm. More, please.

The kiddo Maimai is stressing, which has manifested itself in the act of cutting. Wonderful. Talks with, and over this, has resulted in nothing but dire worries for moi, not sure what to call the Lady C's reaction, sorta kinda like 'nuke' Depression is not the issue, more attention getting, I guess. Not like the timing coulda been better.

Lesseee, anything else?

Shit yeah. Interviews for another promotion are peeking around the corner, which means - Could be interviewed. Could be moved. Could stay. Could move laterally, (back to the companies vs. Firecom) Could just lose all around and get shanghighed.


It really is.

Sun'll come up, I will make the rez, The kiddo will be OK, and we will go see the Grandkeiki become part of the Ohana (family)...

And it will start all over again.


It is the other white meat.

(or was that just my arse?)

Weekend goodness to all.



Mom's day & Mom's Day Swell

One day I was listening to Neil Young singing about "sitting under the stairs thorwing out some glares" from I am a child and Momhawaiianmark said -

..."That'd have been me"

It took a moment to sink as far in as it needed to. Then Mom and I had the longest talk.

She started telling me of her childhood, growing up in Sabetha, Kansas, and Bern, Kansas. What it was like to lose her Dad to a industrial accident at the John Deere factory when she was 13. How people treated her, as the olive skinned; curly haired sister of a blonde haired, blue eyed sis. How the taunts hurt. It let me in on the molding of her life. Why she carried herself with a grace and enthusiasim for everything. From her religion, to her thoughts on equality of mankind. How her beauty led her to be a homecoming queen for Bowling Green. The life of a stewardess for United, the people she met doing that. How she met my Dad. The life her Mom led in raising 2 daughters, sans husband.

Momhawaiianmark gave me insight to passion. The passion that exsists between two persons. The passion that exsists in art. Passion for sports, gardening, baking, reading. Plain old, unadulterated passion. Mom is like 76 now. She weighs in at about 100 lbs soaking wet. She rocks. She gets up early, works her beloved arse off at saving, cleaning, cooking for my Dad. And my Dad showers her with love. She has no needs besides him at her side. When I played football, soccer, and ran track, she was always there. She cheered louder than anyone her size should be able to. She always pulls for the underdog.

She digs a good bottle of wine.

All Moms got heart, care and forgiveness embeded in the minds the own.

My luck is she shared.

Love ya, Mom.


As sure as the Sunday for Moms day brings corsages, leis, and brunch buffets, there is usually a Moms Day surf swell.

Might be late this year, but it will come. It always does.


Big time Aloha to all the Moms out there.



Pocket Door Terror

Neil, click the title for article link

Our master bedroom has (had) a pocket door. You know, the kind that slide into a recess in the wall? Usually used for bathrooms, to save space, or just to make a small space more user friendly. Being that a regular door on average takes up 10 square feet. (open, close, like dat!)

The aforementioned Evil Contractor Curt who, not on my dime, did the renovation for my MIL to the tune of 12K, did the pocket door thingy for my now master bedroom.

The Evil Contractor Curt, who is my MIL's nephew, likes pocket doors. Apparently, he had a kick back program going with Lowes, as he purchased all the materials from there. (I wont mention that Lowes is the FURTHEST home improvement center from our home) So The Evil Contractor Curt was always on the road, when he wasn't half-assing the renovation.

Lets bring into the picture; my lovely Lady C, who really, really hates our pocket door.

She hates the pocket door -

1. The Evil Contractor Curt put it in.
2. It doesn't have a lock that works real well.
3. See #1 as to why there is a #2.
4. I didn't get out of the house fast enough this morning.

Sooooooooooo - Lady C decides that, hell, today is a good day to put in a new door. I really shoulda left before dawn. Anywhooose, off to City Mill, the bane of my existence, for supplies and less than knowledgeable information. Sooooooooo - tear out pocket door. Measure, think, measure, think, (cup o' Joe), think. Give up on all sane thought. I am crazy, but I get the job done. (thanks, Ben Folds five)

Conversation -

Lady C- "I'll help you; it wont be too hard"

2Lefthands- "mummmble"

Lady C- "Okay, so first....(phone rings)"

3lefthands - "I need to get...(ninety million things together to do this project)"

Lady C- (on the phone for the next 2 hours)

Sooooooooo- Figure the damn thing out, spend all day doing it, of course, due to the EVIL CONTRACTOR CURT'S lack of measuring skills, the damn door way is not square.

Sooooooooo- Fixing that faux pas, finally shimmy, scrape and hone the thing in -

And it was time to go to work at Hellish Pinkish Wonderland.

Top it off, I had no gas in my truck.




I am.....

I am........

The Luckiest.

Tired Aloha's


Incoherent Yard Day

Day gotta start somewheres..................

Good morning sunshine

So three hours of sleep outta 24 hours of duty, and one can say they are incoherent. Drive home, settle the trials and tribulations of those whose haven I reside in. Oh, yeah, and it is yard day at the home.

Yard day.

Yard day actually started yesterday, when the problem eldest was home, working off the shmoola given to the GF for needs. Yard day tuned in for a cost. Oh, I guess you can buy love. (take that, Apple Records) - Yard day. It has a whole other connotation in the firehouse. We tend to the grounds of the house. It is part of our job description. All firehouses have a fair amount of grounds to landscape. I loved my old houses yard. Took alot of pride in yard day, and the firehouse showed it. My own home is always a work in progress.

I have plowed, dug, landscaped, planted, burrrowed, heaved, pushed, cut, burnt and maladjusted everything in my yard. Most of the plantings are of some sort of native Hawaiian species. Not all, but I try. Flowers, succulents, fruit trees. Hawaiian Green Rose, Pikakae, White Hibiscus. Naupaka, Red & White Ginger. Took down a 40' old mango tree that caused nothing but rubbish, and mangoes to high to reach without killing myself. Built a mound out of its root, since 30-40 years of mango tree has heavy amounts of roots. Used recycled cut lava wall rock from the firehouses remodel to dry lay a retaining wall. Gathered large stones for other retaining walls to terrace the steeply graded hill in the back of the house.

Purloined (didnt steal) over 600 concrete testers to build more retaining terraces on the same hill. Planted palms to hold water, and soil.

(if you are wondering what a concrete tester is, it is a 10 inch long, 5 inch circumfrence cylinder of concrete used to test a concrete mixes strength - weight for each is 35 lbs.)

It is the grey thing in the machine

So thats about 21,000 lbs of concrete that sits on my hill. That I put in, with the help of my nephew, and brother -in- law, via a rented truck. 21K of concrete. WTF was I thinking?

But I will digress from that bullshit, and focus on new improved bullcrap.

So i get home, and tired as a dog after a bath and a grooming, The Lady decides yard day will enter phase two. Day 2. Hauling the shit to the dump part.

I love having a truck.


Load up, haul off all assorted cuttings, branches, weeds, small animals (kidding), and various junk, all organic kine. The dump takes the green waste and makes compost (score one for Mom Nature)...But all the junk I have is pack into plastic bags, except for the large branches and shit.

Needless to say, I have to empty all the bags contents into the green waste pile, and but the plastic in the plastics pile. No big deal. On bag number 347, I kinda got sick of it.

I'm sorry, where the hell was I going with this? Oh yeah to get to some point. There us nothing that really feels as good as digging into the earth, be it the soil, or trimming a plant. It seems to be kinda meditative-like, or reversable zen. Reversable Zen? Yeah, you know, where instead of trance-like, you are focus' like. So intent on accomplishing, or completeing the task assigned. I always get ASSigned stuff. Thats for another rant day, perhaps. Earth, plants moving around in what is YOURS, a production from your own heart, feelings, abilities. Maybe thats why a bit of woe creeps up too. Just a manini (little) bit. The forest that was a hiding place for Gecko's, bugs, and birds has been down-sized. The bushiness trimmed, looking all respectable for the night on the town. ( I always say I do clean - up well, so I guess my yard should , too)...

A little grit under the nails, a sweat, and I futted out just around 130. Just came to a halt. Body said - " thats it, we are outta here ". I believe me, I zombied in, laid my dirty ass on the floor, and went into a coma. I didnt eve make it to the bedroom floor. I made it just inside the door. Surprised the cat didnt try to bury me. Woke, went to the shower, and.... voila! Pink Hotel diaries for the next 3 days. Surf more later in the 3 days, we will see.

But the yard is clean, and I am at her pinkness.

Water woulda been nice, tho'.



3 For 3

Called into work, and the nukes appeared. Oldest is lying thru his teeth, and being total ass. Lady C went to work, so as she wouldnt go richter on him. So i get to give a talk. God help me be calm. I will be in control, no matter the buttons pushed.

The best/worst thing about the surf this morning was that I saw a friends son out surfing, his Dad and i surfed together when the kids were small, always hoping theyd follow suit in the stoke. His did, my oldest is quickly falling by the way side. Jealous abit at when he said his Dad and he surf on the Big Island quite a bit.

Then all I was filled with was joy for him, and his dad.

Finding joy for my own child evades me, but that doesnt stop the quest for it.

Sometimes I hope for it to be right around the corner, but mostly I know the corner it is in will stay far away from the finder, until he becomes a real man.

You all be good.

Hearfelt Aloha's....

In the ocean

Yep, i am stoked.


It is always something

Two days in-a-row surf-a-rama! Goodness. Tired but salt water sinus cures all ills.

Fly In The Soup

Sinfest always makes me laugh/think.

Even in perfection is flaw. There were parts of this mornings foray into liquid high that were awesome. Cool blue pacific, huge arse rainbow over Diamond Head Crater. Turtle raising an aged head to peek at the invaders of his breakfast buffet. Bunch of silver bodied fish swimming in a school, that flashed a reflection so bright that it seared my eye. (ya know like looking at the sun kine)

Rain squalls and weirded out tides complicated the line-up, but passed. It was like Mom nature was testing to see if I wanted it bad enough. Suffer; surfer. Winds blew cold, chopped up the sea, and the sun hid. Then it would pass, share some delights, and do the cycle all over.

Had one other guy out at 730AM. He had been out since 6AM. We shared small kine talk, but for the most part, I just soaked in the solitude and meditation that I luckily gained. We shouted hoots to each others good waves. And passed the lulls paddling around to fetch a spot for a hopefully coming good one. Waited out the lulls, and got a bunch of satisfying waves. Tomorrow should be as good, or better. Gotta check how the winds will be AM, vs the PM hours. Feel like calling in at her pinkness, and surf for the day, get burnt, saltwater filled and satiated.

Everytime I do that tho' some nuclear reaction seem to take place at home, so I will do with a AM go, and a PM work. So be it. Always more to come.

Good day, sunshine, burnt nose, red eyes, and sore muscles.

Cant ask for anything more.

Perfection....with a side of mischief for good luck.



Delicately masculine

Wave Of The Day, Nias

So after getting out of the dungeon of firecom 24 hours of daze, I got to surf.


Oceanic pleasures for the soul.

So whats with the title then?


Actually, I do. How to phrase what is being processed in the grey matter may take the long trail. (Like I know any other trails to explore) It makes no difference in this world to what we aspire. Who can say we all dont aspire to peace and love? Even the hatred mongers, they cant possibly spend 24/7 on hate. I mean, you would be shitting ulcers if you did, right? So even the 'damn 'em all crowd' has to have a spark of care in 'em. Really, how many times can you kick a dog?

So whats with the title? Toughness comes in many forms. Who can forget the guy in front of the tank in China? How many tanks have I stopped? Not many. The nuns, volunteers at the local soup kitchen, ladling out love and compassion for the needy? I havent ladled out much. Holding the hands of a small person, comforting. Any Mother enduring nine months for the moment of splendor.

Toughness. When you see it, it passes without notice. Real toughness doesnt come in bravado laced pronouncements. It comes on a whisper, a glance, a touch. I may be able to bench press a large amount of weight. If I can not touch the spirit of my fellow man and make it soar, what real good am I? Might be handy around the house to move furniture, but if I cant see the glory in the simple act of rain, what real strength do I posess?

Its good to own a set of balls. Everybody got them, some outwardly, some inwardly. Some wear them on there sleeves. Some act as though they live through them. Too bad. Never to know the power of having a "real" set of then has escaped them; Male or Female. I have probably said it before, and Todd Rundgren said it " Have the guts to stand for something or your gonna be trapped" He kinda shouted it, with Utopia. Owners of a real set stand for something, and are free by that stance.

My maimai is changing; shes a young lady/woman child. It is kinda hard to take the blues with the goldens, but , eh, I will make it. I wonder if she knows how tough she has to be? How strong her convictions will need to be cemented in her own forms of beliefs? Will we be the ones to increase her strength, or dilute it?

Ah, yeah, a surf.

It gets a mind running.

Sometimes too far, sometimes too scattered, but always...on the good side.

Fondest Aloha.