A Morning Surf 4 Papa

Got up at the crack o' dawn and there was no wind. Having that inbred surf-meter beating beyween my ears, I tip-toed my ever sandy brain out the door.

Trying desperately not to awaken any or all that were resting.

(Hey! I'm thinking about all the beauty sleep you all are getting)

Loaded up the truck, (which I actually remember how to drive) an headed for the old default surf spot.










Ver glad I did. Nice and clean, and what a way to start my day; long as they are, nothing but nothing beats getting in the water for a surf to rejuvenate your stretched soul.

Aloha.

Of course, now I am working Da Pink.

The Surf Lesson.

So Mr. Surf Rat got his first surf lesson today.

Lucky me. 24 hours of Firecom yesterday just about murdered me.

And now, that ever-loving Pinkness.

Aloha.

Air Show

Team Kolohe went to the Blue Angels Air show in Kaneohe Marine Base.

Kaleo loves his airplanes.


Blue Speed
Amazing Grace
Mai, Kiana, and Mai's Friend
Grammy and Joe Cool
Chow Time
Akoni Bear and Joe
Formations
HFD Tank-top on Mr. Moto.

Of course I was working, so pffft, I couldnt go.
I am so beat/worn out/exhausted I could just shit.

Aloha.

Surf. and once more, surf.

A 2 day, 3 session, surf-a-rama.


Kekoa 'Keeks' Kahananui...

No worries, it was a great 2 day sessions, and now work, and more tomorrow....

Saltwater dreams.

Oh, but there are no saltwater dreams at the pink tonight. No sir. "warm comforting connections" - The managerial BS tag line - is out the freaking window tonight. Never in 25+ years have I seen such incompetence from the top. Amazing. Party of 28 - nothing but complaints. Understaffed, over burdened cooks. Oh man, its a cluster-fuck.

La do da do dey, baby!

Aloha.

50th & Hilo & Us Guys.

Dad, Mom, and Kaleo
Canopy
The Hiker/Biker
Trail Head
Waipio Valley
"I got some land here for youse"
Waimea Stop sign
Da house from Da Road
Big Doggie
Da Home
Welcoming commitee
"Here, Papa, Dis flight!"
Mr. Traveler-GQ



We made it, and made it special for 2 really cool people who hang-out together for 50 years.

And Stanford (Dads alma mater) just beat the evil empire that USC.......was.

Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha!

Aloha.

Off to Hilo

Kaleo and I are off to Hilo, Big Island for Gram Gramps 50th wedding annivesary/house blessing.

See ya.

Aloha.

It isn't called "Aloha" for nothing...

No, it is not.

And sometimes you really need to dig very deep into your own soul to find some. Sometimes, you can not find it; even if you were born with it. At what point do you abandon Aloha/Love? At what point does Aloha mean good-bye? Does the arrival of its meaning of farewell gain use? Aloha means alot. Where is the line in the sand with ohana aloha? (famliy love) At which destination in lifes journey do you squander all that you have spoken, all that you have shown by example?

No matter if paradise, the Ua (rain) must fall.

How much can your Aloha withstand?

000,3 liab; grub, yrebbor.

Yeah, thats fucked. I deliab him.

...and that is where Aloha fills the emptiness.

The hole is large; but the aloha will be larger.

Aloha.

No pink next summer

The Pink to close


Eh, Time to find a new second job.

474-TSR

..was the liscense plate of the asshole that almost hit me on the way to PinkHell today.

Pissed; ranted. Called HPD. Made a report. It isnt the fact that he was a Samoan, but the fact that he acted sooooooo Sole like a typical Samoan - acting all tuff and shit.

Should be interesting when HPD pulls up to his door.

I guess Pink will be easy tonight.

Eh.

Hope Alan got off the Strike. Best to ya man.

Aloha!

Spackle.

Today was unyielding. Kaleo is a bundle of exposed wiring; all charges going a 220 Volts. We watched a bee do his pollenation dance between flowers. "No, you cant step on the Bee, it will sting you" Which of course made him follow the Bee for 10 minutes, trying to step on him. Damn kiddo. And FWIW, I fuckin' hate My Space. I better stop with that rant, cause noone wants 10 pages of me cursing.

Hmmm.

What else? Ah. Yeah. The old pink monster is raising her evil head again, with staff, guests, and assorted cretins exposing ever inventive ways to drive me lolo.

"Hello, This is Mrs. Gene Paskow in Room 1201, and I would like to order the following - - - "

Lets discuss, shall we?

1st - You are ordering room service. Fine dining at its fastest, right? Thats what you want, thats what I want. In other words - Lets make this a sexual quickie, and get you off the phone! The longer you take, the longer it takes.

2nd - I got your room, its on the phone. Dont make me get all looped and call you back at 4AM cause you were a asshole. Thankyouverymuch.

3rd - Mr, Mrs, Miss, Ms, Dr, Preacher, bakers son...It dont get that fancy in the basement! Thank you for your wonderful introduction, but Pshaw! Just be nice and we all leave with our sanity, Kay?

4th - Lets not get all demanding on the order, OK? I write the orders, not the songs, Barry. The waiters will be informed of bad attitudes; what looks fancy may just be EXTRA fancy, capish?

Thank You.

And on the subject of waiters - (whom I have the absolute joy of cashing out every night I aint at the firehouse) Maybe you were shitty, and thats why you got stiffed. Some of you have no clue on how the system works - You kiss the guests ass, and if that doesnt work, kill 'em with kindness. Then be fast and attentive. Bingo. Money!

And you, management - Ha! Lets not staff anyone, so all around everyones pissed! Goooooooooooood thinking there, suits! Tie a bit tight again?

Sheesh.

But Kaleo and Kekoa were good guys, and Mai got me to take her ass to school in the morn, and trafic was OK, and there is some surf, and I am almost outta here.....

Take Care -


Aloha!

41

..more days to a vacation respit.

..more days for anyone else to plan to get to Vegas.

..more days till yet again, I will be wandering the haunts of casinos dashed dreams.

..more days of work!

..more days to save the kala I have been saving on gas to fund my fun.

..more days.

Aloha.

...and you are all more than welcome to join in a respit of your own, ya know.

Good Morning!

Hey bro, we all gotta wake up on Mondays.

On a unrealted note - Thanks OJ! You are an asshole sociopath!

Aloha.

(I'll be working OJ, something you dont understand)

Surf.

When you get a ice-cream headache, you stick your tounge to the roof of your mouth.

It goes away.

When you have headaches of normal variety, you stick your tounge in the salt water.

They dont go away, but the feel a whole lot wetter.

Some pretty good waves today. 3 Hours, no body damage. It is a good thing, Martha.

Aloha.

God Bless - F D N Y

343.

Peace.

No Can Forget.

Kolohe-ness

Since May 27th, I have had 1 or 2 days sans work.

Also -

Been frustrated as a monkey-fuck with a persons behavoir, and lack of. Thats all I will say since Zillarage took all the good words.

Layed down the Moped.

Had my Dad go for heart stuffs, all good and all healed.

Found out that the garnishes arent always on the plate, above-board, or admitted to. (and you thought I was pissed with behavior? HA!)

Kaleo got his puppy shots round 2 , today.

Had another Grandson.

Not surfed enough.

Lost my mind.

Found it, under the heading of - "dumb ass"

Mai tuns 16 day after tomorrow.

Wondered out loud enough for God to hear - "..it wasnt my damn apple!"

Had many nights of little or no sleep.

Dove for squid once.*

Read a book before work, since I had time to kill since I wasnt gonna wait in hells home anymore, at Barnes N Nobles.

Thats screwed up ya know, really.

Got 1 fucking hair cut.

Answered too many stupid questions.

Gave 2 many bullshit answers.

and figured out that after soooo much crap, I cant say fuck it enough.

No take that back, I can.

Just have to say it underwater.

Aloha.

* its a double entendre. Not good.

Shoots then; back to pink-ness.

New moon, dark night.

Funk. Riddim and blues. Its a new morning, Gloria, take out the trash and hem the fences the damn cows are in the neighbors fields again.

There is a dark veil clouding the vision now; it comes up from the depths. Wrenching a nut, and turning a screw. Drilling the concrete unyielding. Somehow nothing is created from all of loves labor - How can that be? The fortitude of the forbidden city's wall! Ah yeah! That once was soft and tender is solidified in reigns of the elixir stubborn. You will always pay the piper. When you step up to the rail, no matter if you bet 1 or a hundred, you will pay the odds. The "vig". The math.

It is a gamble, no? Everything one does, is a game of chance. Even the non-bettor. No? You dont bet, you dont stand a ...chance... of a win. So you gambled against chance. What of your life investment? What will you turn to in the moment of calling? Will you look back and say - damn! that was sweet! Or will in be with deep dark remorse of what joys and happiness you missed. Or ruined.

Not? Of course not. If you change the subject matter every time faced with reality harsh lighting, you never face forward, do you? To the rear evil realistic thinking! Irregardless of consequence, forge on in unthinking expenditure of time, money, and heart.

Fuck the money, it is that fuckin heart... ..

Really why trample that? What did the heart do to you? When did the heart curse you? When? It did not. The brain, yeah. The voice, yeah. Even the hands. But that heart ever dedicated, ever wholesome, never did. That heart is not perfection, but dwells in perfect love, love of the other.

Others.

Many more than one heart can bear. Isnt that why you unite? To stand together?

That be together; mingled. Joined. United. Copulated, and dancing in that lovely bliss of after.

After.

Remember after?

No?

After the rain, the odor lingers. Linger in the after. After the sun comes the shade. The cool after.

You can stand together, you can stand alone, but you will never stand behind.

Neither shall I.

Aloha.

September.

Room w/ A view, Neosponge Photo.



Lugging my big old back-pack of bills. Mosying around on 5HP and teaspoons of petrol. Walking Chumpster to the Marina. It starts raining more often now. Another wonderful football season starts. Throw rocks in the water. Papaya for breakfast. Slicing SPAM and frying it with a egg over medium.

What exactly was that on the ground near the intersection of Kalanianaole Highway and Kilauea?

And Crash Test Dummies lyrics.

I know that you don't love me
I know you hate my guts
I know the nasty things you say
About me, to those sluts

Well, maybe I'm a weasel
Maybe I'm a liar
Maybe I'm a skinny punk
Who couldn't change a tire

I'm laying down and I'm playing dead
I ain't fetchin' no stick, no way, baby

I've always been this pasty
I've always been this shape
I'm just a teensy-weensy thing
Passed on by itsy-bitsy apes

I'm laying down and I'm playing dead
I ain't fetchin' no stick, no way, baby

You know that you could train me
You know I'd sit and beg
But you think I'm just a dirty dog
That tried to hump that pretty leg

I'm laying down and I'm playing dead
I ain't fetchin' no stick, no way, baby


Woof.

Watertime.

Bruddahs in arms



Sooooo good. Lucky me 2 days of righteous enough surf. Even tho' there is a multitude of merde going down all around meself, I can be sanctified by the wash of the ocean.

Yep, it was that good.

Back to our regularly scheduled doofusing.

Aloha!

Sunshine back in the house

Maile's sunshine the cat is back, no worse for the wear, my wallet a bit lighter...and thankful for the efforts of a certain Honey.

Aloha.

Sinfest Sunday

I am.

Why people suck.

We have this really cool cat. Sunshine, the orange tabby(?) who crusies out doors. She used to be indoors, but one day she decided that she wanted out. 7 years later, she owns our block. She basically never leaves the loop, always in our driveway, or roaming to some of the neighbors digs for some free chow. Sunshine even would start out going on walks w/ me and the Champy, along with Sadie the dog. She always got distracted before too long by a leaf or lizard or a fart in the breeze. In the mornings, and when I arrive home at night from job2, she will be at the front door, asking for some (more) food. She has a dish and water bowl at our house, and a few of the neighbors, as well. Sunshine wrestles w/ Sadie the dog, and will atagonize Lucy, the pygmi pig. She always gets just 'tough' enough with Sadie, and never with Champy or any other little ones, no matter what extremity they may pull on.

Sunshine has her own little world. She seems smart enough to be able to lie in our front gutter, and when you drive up, will not move; until the last minute, walking ever so slowly out of harms way. She also loves to sleep on top of my recently washed and waxed truck. Leaving many wonderful paw prints and hair for the winds and rain to wash off. Many gifts of her hunts are left in the yard. She leaves just enough food in her dish to attract the pigeons, and when the mood strikes her, the hunt is on. Needless to say the rat problem of out doors, is nil. Mice know better than to hang around. Lizards; arent too bright.

So I am on duty last night. Fridays are always busy, and a semi-full moon brings out the lunatics, (yours truly included) so a busy entertaining day was had. I fell alsleep for my turn at 4 hours around 1100PM (thats 2300 for you miltary folks keeping track; inside joke, sorry)

At 125AM Lady C calls, and is hysterical; almost.

Some fucker shot Sunshine w/ a BB gun and entered through her neck and is lodged near her lungs and heart. A pneumo-thorax injury the vet tells me. A thousand dollars deposit asked for and gotten to see if she can survive the night and into today. A crying, grief filled daughter. A complete and total breakdown of my faith in mankind (or youthkind) on my part. No one on our block would do something this horrid. No one. And we exsist on a Loop. No reason to go in our out, unless you are going home, or visiting. No one delivers after 900PM, and Maile saw her at the door at 9-930, she heard some noise around 10, and the desperate cries from Sunshine at 1030. Lady C came home from her job, to rush her to the only 24 hour vet open.

Some skater-punk types were in the area the night before Lady C tells me. Sunshine crusies out in the street gutter. Related?

I'll be finding out.

I guarantee it.

The cutest thing about all of it was Maile writing on the calendar that sits fronting the computer -

"Sunshine will get better"

In that little teen girl stylee of handwriting, you know all young, believing, and full of innocence?

Honey P. Sunshine - say a prayer for your kin, OK?

'Cause mankind is fucked.

Aloha.

Murphy, # 2.

I went for a surf today, so that cancels out all BS for a moment.

Ok, thats long enough.


During the last couple of shifts, the brushfires have been cranking. On Sundays 24 hours, we had one that ended up going for a week, and it started on our shift. It burned a total of 7,000 acres, and was a bitch to control. When I am working, multi-tasking is the name of the game. Lots of it. I get off on doing more than one thing at a time; so I slide right along transmitting, sending alarms, doing the public service thing, and in general trying to be a productive contributing member of our crew.

I played a lot of football, and Dadhawaiianmark is still a longtime coach for all my life, so ....thats kinda where it lurks from.

Anyhow, during this huge ass brushfire, we get another one, going on at the other side of the island, along with a missing set of teenagers visiting from the mainland, and numerous medical calls.

There is terminology that is used for transmitting over the radios and shit, but for the most part, you understand it; then its all good.

That is except for one very anal-retentive Chief. In the midst of all this shit going down, and having 10 or 12 channels working with crews at the fires, the rescue, the medicals, along with companies going to and from others areas since they have to provide coverage when situations like these occur, this loon calls up to complain that -

"Stop using "standing by" It is suppose to be "This is Control"....It has been in the procedures for 7 years and you need to stop this now"

Well, fuck you too.

It may not make sense, but this was the highpoint of assholery; we were doing a bang-up job with all the shit going down, and this Maroooooon has nothing better to do than critcize something as lame as this. I was fucking pissed as ever I have been in the department. My captain was pissed, and he is 10 times more mellow than me. I am a high strung lunatic, he is human valium.

Next shift, he e-mails our Chief and complains more.

Well fuck you two times more.

In a moment of child-like behavior, I was gonna call in sick just because - Because of this doofus. But that would harm our crew, and that i wont do.

He is still a fuck-tard.

But the surf was pretty good today, so be it.

Aloha.

Murphy.

Usually I am a pretty patient person. Usually. Thing is, of late it seems that the majority of humanity has been aiming various slings and barbs (pointy kine, not boobs kine) at me. Because of this inconsiderate attention being paid to my niceness, I have revolted. Yeah, no more Mr. Nice Kanaka.

Oh but, what prey tell, has led you down this evil infested road of woe, beachdog?
Ya just had to ask, eh?

In a effort to lessen the depletion of the ozone, I bought a Moped a month or so back. That and I was tired as fuck of paying 3 something and a left nut for gas; it was a good intended plan. Of course this was met with visions of insurance policy cash-ins by ol’ whats her name, but … Ha! I never paid the premiums, so there! Not really, but WTF, I can act tough over the type written bravado here, I guess. It goes pretty well, and for all intensive purposes, saves some coin for Vegas, maybe. No, not Baby, …Maybe. Anyways, I ride and get from job1 to job2 without any problems or major nuclear disasters….until the other night going home from job2. It rains here in paradise; for real. It does. At night once in awhile. Like the other night. I am minding my own business, riding along at my 45 MPH (a billion KPH for you metrically challenged) - and the rain is pelting me in a unforgiving way. Now, just a island primer for those who haven’t had the pleasure of visiting my little space of happiness over here; raining doesn’t mean rain all the time. Matter of fact, rain is passing like in seconds. It can come down pretty hard, and then voila!, sunshine. Or in this case, the dark of night. Anywhooose, piloting this death ship, I am just about 1 mile from the warmth of well, something, when some unseen evilness grabs the damn moped, and throws my already tired ass to the ground.

Being that I am pretty experienced in falling; I fall with all the grace of a wounded mullet. And splay out all over the wet and increasingly hard asphalt. I am just glad it was 1130 at night (that’s 2330 for you psycho-military types) and no much traffic was on the highway. Bounding back up from my latest encounter with mother earth, I check that no spurts are coming from places that usually don’t, and hop on the mechanical nightmare, and restart and off to home. Being too tired to check the moped for injury, I enter to a sleeping home. Shower off the various items of road attached to small dings in my leg and foot, and off to bed.

In the morning, I find that the death metal is fine, and ready to take me to good old job1. Job1 being the good old Firehouse. Good old, fire. Yep. And its raining, again. So off I goes, at 0530 AM. (that’s 530 AM…Dick, ain’t I?) I end up at a intersection, waiting like you are suppose to, when the bloody light is red. Crackheads seem to follow me around in life, BTW. Crackhead Bob was behind me, apparently. Crackhead Bob did not see the light, I guess. When Crackhead Bob started the pressing of brakes, Crackhead Bob was pretty fucking close to ….good old dumb ass, me. Crackhead Bobs squealing wheels created a forceful explosion of…..well almost shit. That’s cause Bob slid out, and slammed into the guardrail. Being the good guy, I called 911 for him. Fucktard. Once my heart started beating a rate less than Pi R Squared, (cause Pies R round) – I went off to work. Firehouse was the calmest part of my day 24 hours of fun, fun, fun. The thing is, after 24 hours, I gotta ride back home. Only had one almost this time. I mean WTF? Jesus Christmas, who the hell did I piss the hell off? After a month a riding this thing, I thought most of the ‘tards would avoid me.

Of course, that is just 2 of 3 days in this adventure.

Aloha.

Sunday.

Got up to the sound of majito's tweeter-ing out side the window. No one was up yet. Came home after work yesterday at the pink acrerage about half-past the monkeys ass. Some asshole in a old beater car almost ran old moped-boy off the road 'cause they were not paying attention. If looks could kill. (well, it was dark, so that doesnt really apply, do it?)

Fed up with the usual amounts of horseshit that has been occurring, I went to the ocean.

Sprinting for my surf shorts, wax, and board; I made it out in record time. Almost record, sorta kinda fast - like. Of course the wind is howling this morning. But the sun is out, winking and teasing around the clouds and such. Blasting some blood curdling music to get my ass awake, I plowed down a coffee, and headed to the old oceanic realm for MY senses.

Senseless. Thats me. Pulling into the parking lot, afetr being tail gated by some moron, the waves were not all that bad. Sure it was not stellar, but it beat listening to eternal drivel from the leader of the obstinate ones. (???) Ha. Anyways, after doing the rounds of picking up litter, and grabbing a few recyclables, its wax on, and out to the water.

A bunch of grommets (small kine kid surf rats) had come by way of Moms vehicle. It just made my brain fart rubber nickles and all. There is no stoke as fresh and true as a little grommets. You got about 50 pounds soaking wet all revved up and ready to whack lips and carve rails on a board that weighs less than the Sunday paper. Shorts are about a size zippo. The rats fished out into the sea, and proceeded to tear it up. I got a ring side seat, while stretching the old body out a bit.

Surfed for a good couple hours and had a real good session.

And now its back to the grinder, life revolves on, and around, but never through.

Shoots; Aloha.

Zap, and you are all good to go.

Dadhawaiianmark had his heart stuffs done. 2 hours, through the artery and to the heart, zap the offending connection that was causing the mis-firings, and bang, kick you out and get back to Honoka'a. No shit. In and Out burger got nothin' on Dr. Shen.

He comes back tomorrow to Coach his team in a scrimmage in Waialua.

My Dad kicks ass.

(of course, this doesnt sit well with all members, but T.S.!!)

Mahalo's for the good wishes, and positives thoughtin's.

Aloha.

Storms, earthquakes, and Dad to O'ahu for heart stuffs

Like the plate aint full enough...Dad and Momhawaiianmark are on the aeroplane for O'ahu right now for heart stuffs for Dad tomorrow AM.

Fenced
Kisses and Honihoni me
Kaleo & Kiana

At least the troops will be here for the Big Kahuna......

Aloha!

No Worries...4 now.

Up and at 'em. Its all good, but always alert, Iniki had some surprises.



1992 Path Of Iniki

Out the door to look for something surfable.

It's on to the future....

My parents have moved past the late 70's and officialy are now in the modern times. Momhawaiianmark used the term 'googled' today. Of course, she didn't mean it in the way you or I, or the 20 gadzillion other computer users of the world do.

They printed a schedule for Dadhawaiianmark's football team up.

And that means 'googled' I guess.

Momhawaiianmark is the same techno savvy lady that called me up crying that she had broken her new cell phone that we got for her...from a pay phone. Just press the little phone icon, Mom. Its just turned off.

Mom's still trying to use her calling card; even tho' the cell to cell costs nothing. God bless her. Mom and Dad still has a rotary dialed phone, last time we went to Kamuela. They are in the process of building their new home in Honoka'a, all brand spanking modern and stuff. Dad got himself a Plasma TV, all new appliances, gorgeous design of the home, vaulted ceilings and stuff.

Wanna bet they still have that rotary phone?

Mom can bake a cake outta water and bread, and my Dad taught me how to build an extension to our home with a bent saw and a broken hammer. Once, we were given a basketball backboard and poles for the school. All I had to do was knock off the 500 lbs cement that was formerly holding the thing in the ground.

With a hammer and chisel.

Then it was only needed to load it onto a flat bed truck, haul it to the school, dig the post-holes in the rock-hard, stone infested, ground.

Builds a character.

Aloha, and welcome to the modern world.

Kekoa, Day 1

Dad,TutuKane,KJ
Mr. KJ
"Keeeks"
"Keeeks" & Grammy

Well.......

...Kekoa Kahananui showed up right on time. At 7 lbs, fiftyzillion ounces and more inches and weight than the older bro, KJ.....

All healthy, and .......

Big, huge, quietly smoky.......

Brown eyes.

and ....

Wisps of .....

Brown Hair.


Just like my 2. Complete opposites.


Not a peep, either. 1 cry. Took a shot. 1 more cry.

Latched right on; right away.




Here we go again.



I'll post some pix when I actually have more than fifteen minutes of freetime (dom)


Thanks for the positives, We appreciate it.


Aloha.

Aloha, E Komo Mai

Kekoa.

Tomorrow, Monday August 6, wil b the C-section date for our newest grandson.

Too tired, exhausted, and all-around miserafuckable to be stoked. That'll change, but right now its solar eclipse time.

Schedule, 7/31 - 8/8

Yesterday - 24 hours Firecom.

Today - 10 hours OT @ Firecom ; 6 hours Hotel.

8/2 - 6 Hours Hotel.

8/3 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/4 - 24 Hours Firecom.

8/5 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/6 - 8.5 Hours Hotel.

8/7 - 8.5 hours Hotel.

8/8 - 24 Hours Firecom.

There is a convetion in town. All the Hotel hours will probably go longer, depending.

I'll try like hell to sneak AM surfs in before the hotel.

What the hell is that?, like 125 hours?

Me = Z O M B I E.

Eh. Oh well.

Shoots, aloha.

Mr.Moto @ the beach

School is back in action for the Maimai. Kiana on Thurs. This guy is learning every minute - He is a handfull.

Maile Pix from beach day while I was plowing the work load.


The Thinker; thinking

Aloha.

Got no pix...

...Since daughter took my camera. But I got out of the stockade and went for a surf this morning. It was much better than it looked from shore. 3 hours later, and the world is a much brighter place.

Saw my classmate out in the water, Dwight O. Dwight and Igrad from SLH back in 1977. Our 30th class reunion is coming up in October, in Vegas. Amazingly, I will be in Vegas then as well. Bwhahahaha. So if anyone wants to put on a costume and come with, you are more than welcome. Me and her will be there from Oct 30 - thru November 5th. Back to surf -

I see Dwight O. out pretty often. I see him way more than any other of my classmates, and many still live here on O'ahu. The inneresssin' thing about seeing Dwight is I thought how lucky it is that we have surfing to keep us relatively in shape. I dont feel 48, and, pray tell, dont look it either. Neither does Dwight. Coinky-dink? I think not. When seeing other classmates, many are overweight, etc. So surfing gets another chalk mark up on the positive side, so Plllllbbbbt! all the nay-sayers.

Its back to the Pink for more summer time bizzness, and it as has been all summer, is busy.

And thats a wrap.

Aloha.

Aunty Amelia

Aunty Amelia is realted to the Lady C via her husband, now deceased, Uncle Buddy. My FIL was a "Buddy" too. Both of them were chiefs in the Firehouse. They are both gone now, arguing in whatever kind of heaven there is about something; but never too heated or mean.

My FIL and Uncle Buddy are the kind of firefighters that will piss on the best friend/fellow firefighters graves when buzzed, just...well, just because they miss you.

The firehouse is a weird/loving place.

Uncle Buddy just recently passed, and this was after a short stay in the same rest home as my Gram. Uncle Buddy had a interesting way of interperting the english language. Uncle's version was never comprehended, reason being it was always being said through the smoke of a steaming cigar; as well as thick with pidgeon english. Uncle was totally a cool person. He always greetd me and Lady C with a huge ass smile and a "Hey Boy, howsyouse doing?"

So, anyways.

Aunty Amelia has been part of the extended firehouse family for a million years, as when you are a chiefs wife; YOU ARE A CHIEF, or might as well be. Aunty has/does attended a ton of firehouse retirement/promotion/graduation/funeral gatherings - and maybe now, even more so, since the bond to all of us is strong since forged along time ago. Aunty, now that Uncle has passed, has freetime and with a heart as big as her smile and infectious laugh to with it, gives freely.

Down at Firecom, we are like the nerve center for the Department. Not a day goes by that our number is not rung up by someone either in or around the Dept. as a whole, for information. Reason being, when on an island, we are going to know what the hell is the reason for the bloody traffic, or if that last alarm was for so and so's address, and a billion other etcetera's. Aunty and me, we are on the by and by, talking pretty regular like.

Any how, the whole point of this rambling is the mean fact that people, friends, associates, they can mean soo much to us in our lives. You can see/hear them all the time. But when you really listen to what they have to say they say the universal sign of caring and love.

And thats pretty cool.

Aloha.

Extinguished.

When yours truly was a small wharf rat, I was often told of the 'ants in my pants'. Apparently, I had become infested with scurrying, by the millions, ants. I never noticed, as I was too busy moving at 1000 MPH; fueled by nothing more than immediate enthusiasm, and reckless abandon. Its like if you pushed the 'FF' button on your VCR or tape player, 24/7. Not only did I not ever get bitten by these hordes of ants, but in reality, they became my close friends. They must have, because they never bothered me much.

Being the only male, grandson, only child, didn't make me any calmer, for sure. My Tutu wahine spoiled me to no end. I didn't even have to whine, ever. Spoiled little shit, I was. Alas, I was going too fast to ever notice that I was a little shit. Fast is just the speed; not the reaction. 'Cause I was, and still am, slow in seeing what is laying right in front of me. Imagine all the times someone said ... 'Look out!'...And you can draw a imaginary film of me turning to whomever said it, and careening, head long into the wall I was to look out for.

Burning ones metabolism at 300 degrees Fahrenheit tends to use up the individual fuel cells that are allotted ones person. It is a easy re-fuel, just some bread and water, some sugary beverage, and off go the turbo-chargers again.

But in not seeing what truly affronts ones self can be a hindrance to acceleration.

All needed is a stable, well built and cared for, platform. "On this rock, I will build my church" was said, and with that, centuries of battles have been fought over what church the rock supports.

Stability.

Quick of soul, fiery in belief, shouldn't damage the stability of ones union, should it?

Responsibility - acting in what is best for the whole, is a cornerstone to stability.

Keep asking now of myself, is my fire extinguished?

Aloha.

Truism

We only get to ride this ride called life once.

Being that I am taller than the "you must be this tall to ride" line,

It is getting irritating that the people on the ride keep throwing up on me.

Shoots,

Aloha.

Surf Auction

Went to the biennial surf auction today - first day off in who knows how long.

Enjoy.

D.B.C.A.N.I.C.D.A.I.



Should be a tourist poster, No?