KJ turned 2 over the weekend. Thursday to Friday I worked 48 hours straight at Fire. That so I can take off for Vegas next Tuesday with the wife/love of me life for a damn well earned vacation THAT WILL NOT BE INTERRUPTED THIS TIME like Halloweens was.
Ack!
Pink closes on Sunday morning.
Oh man I can hardly wait.
Then on the 9th, day after we get back, I start at the Moana Surfrider.
Anyhooo. Without a free moment or lack of quandry to rest ones brain bucket; you find that the lack of O2 to the brain makes for some innaressing actions.
Saywhat?
Yah I thought so. Its like you know where you are going, and all of a sudden you are all ready there, and yet do not know how the hell you travelled there.
Mr. Sammy Davis jr. sang about the wonderous number 11 in craps.
I can hardly wait to dig out from this rock of happiness and head Vegas bound, that my craps shootin' hand is itchy.
Well, that and the fact that this bloody hotel is driving me bonkers; it should be a innaressin' few weeks before they shut the doors on June 1st.
Had 24 hours at Fire, and backed that up w/ 12 hours of OT, making for 36 hours straight, then right to here this afternoon.
Eh.
I gotta job, and I shouldbe thankful as all hell. I am, but yet the doofus in me only tends to see the extreme dipshited-ness of some of the managers here.
$225.00 for a bottle of JW black scotch is pushing it a bit, ya think?
Whatevers.
The dang volcanic haze and lack of surf that I can get to, is playing mind games with doofus boy here.
Kaleo is a ocean's worth of enthusiasim; he makes me 'sit down, Papa!!' to play 'Hot2wheels' with him. The days fly by in his life. He'll be 2 in a week. Jeezus.
I'll shut my trap, and hold my nose, and keep on keepin' on.
Well, its under a month now. Good old Pinkish hell is closing the pink entry for 8 months on June 1st. 26 years of this stuff is gonna seem not-so-bad.
I am full of shit.
Management has embarked on a amazing way of proving that intelligence is a earned commodity. With every passing day they amaze me. We have 555 rooms. We have 24 hour in-room dining. We have a ocean front fine dining restaurant.
We have morons running the show.
Suited ones have cut staff (gee, think they are trying to save on unemployment pay?) Nooooooooooo. Workers have started having frequent "at work" accidents. The plans call for eliminating part of the restaurant, and making the bar bigger, and creating a tropical lagoon pool area.
Didnt they notice the huge freaking Pacific? I mean, it is right there. Of course, they cant know what the staffing will be for the new locations...Duh! Hmmmmm. Wonder if it'll be less? Or the fact that a bar creates more revenue than a restaurant, with more tables turned, etc. Lower overhead and all that bottom line shit.
The little hitler that is the Food & Bev manager staffs 1 waiter for Room service. 1. As in singular.
Its a 500 room Hotel. SUPPOSEDLY 4 star.
There is a cloud or 2 blocking that star rating, I reckon.
Went out at dawn; after some coffee and a kiss on the maltese cross. Not as good/big/consistent as yesterday, but a wave fest for me. Been only surfing for and hour to and hour-half at most, and today stayed out 3 hours. Not the brightest idea, as (duh) the ribs arent fully healed and they reminded me. Its all good, just a small reminder I guess.
This is where you scramble back up when done surfing. Its a bitch when the sets come and push your tired ass against the ledge. Under these 2 trees is a nice spot to watch the surf. From the channel/shoulder. The city's warning to would be doofus'. Doesnt work, BTW. Dawn and ghost board. A peeler on the inside after the crowd showed up. Morning has broken.
My Dad had just finished getting his degree at Stanford, when they were still the Indians, and people were less uptight and PC about things. My Mom was a stewardess when they still called them that, and people took 10 + hours to get to Hawaii via the airlines. She flew for United, dated a memeber of the Smuckers family, and was heading back to home base in Chicago.
Dad had signed up for the Army and was getting sent to Korea. Mom was killing time in Waikiki waiting to fly out the next day, or day after.
Dad, figuring the access to beach in Korea would be limited, headed to Waikiki for a swim and some body-surfing. Waikiki's waves broke differently in those days, and you ( I guess ) could body-surf them. Mom had donned the latest in 1955 beach fashion, (meaning - huge shades, big hat, probably polka-dotted, but who knows) and went to sun herself on the Kuhio Beach area of Waikiki proper.
Dad, being a hellofa stud, musta seen Mom and being the suave ( broke ) guy that he is, somehow conned my Mom into 'keeping and eye' on his shorts (old) and wallet (empty, and watch (not-working) while he went swimming.
Mom, being totally 1955 cool, said...'Eh' (artistic liberty taken; she was probably really nice about it)
Apparently after a surf and swim, Dad (stud) came back and began conversing with Mom. I have no idea what the pick up lines were, or how well they worked, but,.... Thanks.
In Honolulu, the rains will come down from the valley, and drench really quickly, or for a good spell. Liquid sunshine; if you wait a minute the weather will change.
So a squall of Ua (rain) came and had the two of them head for the protection of above Banyan Tree. It was much larger then, as it had to be trimmed to keep it alive about 10 years ago. They talked.
The rain came. They talked somemore. They told each other what was what (he going to Korea, she back to Chicago)
They exchanged address'.
They promised to write.
For 2 years they wrote.
When my Dad was getting discharged, he wrote my Mom, and asked her to marry him.
After meeting him that day, under that tree, she said yes.
I like that tree.
Aloha.
* I pass it everytime I work at the Royal; and every time I like to think i say thanks.
Yeah. Had to go to the hardware store the other morning. Yep. Not like anyone else could go, no sir. Nope. Not that there are 3 other vehicles around, no moped, thankyouverymuch for the reminder. It’s OK, fo’ real.
So off I go. I don’t mind going to the hardware store; the only thing that is irritating about this particular hardware store is that as they advertise that they ‘carry everything Hawaii needs’ – somehow they never have what I need. But lets not go there now, as they had what I needed, so I imagine there is hope for the failing economy yet. Whatevers. Anywho, back to the moron of our story, (me) and the always adventurous going and comings of life in the hobbling lane. As if.
It musta been on the Saturday last, as the morning traffic was its usual weekend activity. It was a bit more than a usual morning, and that’s OK, and I really don’t find to much sand in my shorts during traffic anymore, since I gave up yelling at the other morons (like me) on the road. Just take a deep breath, turn up the volume on the stereo, and remember that for the most part, it isn’t worth the trouble to get upset. I get to the main drag of the neighborhood, and merge into the right turn lane and go with my life’s living like most of us morons (me) do. I get to the stop light and non-yield right turn lane and the traffic has come to a halt. This happens quite frequently at this intersection, as many folks (morons) don’t realize that it is a NO YIELD right turn merge lane. It goes into its own lane! Thanks again, O ever watchful urban planners, the same guys who made Hawaii’s entry/exit on the same off ramps on the freeways. More morons. (like me)… I always seem to catch glimpses of cars that pique my little-kid kine days of car wants. Today it was a 1979 El Camino; well worn but it did have that deep seeded sound of a big carburetor, and headers, gas guzzling to the nth degree. The lady that was driving it was 3 feet 10, and prolly weighed 50 pounds soaking wet.
And how do you know this, O hobbler? Well that’s because it was her car at the intersection that was causing the back up and that’s how. OK? Back to Karma, sheesh it is hard to tell a story and think at the same time. So this great old truck is seemingly stalled, and the cars in front of me are weaving around her, and noone is stopping to assist her and I am getting ticked as she is putting herself in danger as to where the truck is.
Damn.
Managing to pull around her and stop ahead of the vehicular on-slaught of morons (like me) that are revving and getting on with their Saturdays; I get off to the side on the median, and hop out to see what I can do to make the situation all that much worse, as I tend to do. I get to her and she says that “it just stopped” and looks pretty shaken up. Lets just see if it starts, (doesn’t) and let see if it is flooded ( it is ) ‘cause the smell of petrol is stronger than shit and I already am loopy, with out O2 depleting vapors, thankyouagainverymuch. I pop her hood, ( get your heads outta the gutter ) and find a real gem of a engine, about 400 HP, and fully tuned but definitely flooded w/ gas. I come back to her and tell her to put the car in “on” and into neutral, and lets get you the hell off the road to the side where when they hit me, at least my body parts wont fly all over the main drag.
Now of course the truck has no power steering, or brakes, and I am pushing this 17 ton truck (yeah, exaggerate) on the highway, in my slippers, and……
None of the other morons weaving around bothers to stop and help.
Fucktards.
Anyway, after that immaculate revelation (cue angelic sounding trumpets) I realized that soon, very soon, all that Karamtic bullshit is gonna catch up to me. So…
Karma gods; I am waiting.
She eventually got someone to come and get her, and the truck, and was very grateful.
Of course, this meant I took longer at the hardware store, which meant of course, that I got in the longest line of morons (like me) and with the checkout cashier from the remedial class, and the plastic bag broke, which sent the crap I had bought all over the parking lot……….
There has got to be a clause somewhere in lifes manual that can be drudged up and pontificated on whereby the life user is granted immunity from careless acts of dumb. I want to invoke that shit like yesterday.
It'd be great to feel some freakin' surf and sun and sand on my shoulders, ass, and legs. I'd take driving up to my Gram's house on the hill, view Waikiki and Honolulu sans buildings and highrises again. Pay double to stand in that kitchen and have her scold be for being 'kolohe'. Triple to hear my gramps tell her to "leave the kolohe boy alone; he's the only one we got". Give some coin to see my Dad laugh like the photo, next to my Aunt.
I imagine that 7 weeks of being hung-up is messin' with the fartings of my brainage.
*Redwoodcity, eh LK?....Never guess where I was born, would ya?
Even Hawaiians gotta travel, I guess.
I want to finish my damn cut-ass short vacation to Vegas from last November; I want to hold her in my arms and watch her sleep, and wake her gently. I want time to be hers, and her to be mine.
I want the damn pink to close already; since June just amplifies the stupidity of management here.
I am tired of dealing with waiters with no brains; I have some to lend them, or is that just a piece of mine that I want to give 'em?
Dont get me started on the maroons lately; there is too many and not enough "I" in the computer type to deal with my bitching.
I'll take a beer, please.
I delight in hearing Kaleo call me "Papa!, Where are you?"
Kekoa in purple hats.
Kiana leaving her junk all over the place and I keep picking it up.
Picking up and dropping off Mai. NPR in the morning with her is soo wonderous a time.
Where was this going?
Oh yeah, I.
I am selfish, and self centered, and tired and sore; I regret getting older, and falling is hard, I rejoice that new days I witness, but damnit, this shit is getting old.
Here is the latest from as my BIL put it "your just shattered inside, arent ya?" ...
Anyhoo.
After a ton of Xrays, the good ol Doc found that my pericardial sack had some fluid around or in it. So, it was take more time off and rest. So that is what I (sorta) did. So that clears up to whatever degree of clearing up fluid that gathers around your heart means...The next set of Xrays (thank god I wont be having anymore kids, as my 'nads are fried by now anyway) shows that cleared up, but I still feel short of breath.
So the Doc sends me for a Cat Scan. So that I go and do.
But first... I go for blood work that shows that I possibly could have blood clots. Yay!, Blood Clots! So thats why the Doc asked for the Cat Scan.
Walking around for the next day wondering if somewhere in my body a farking palet or globual of red shit is gonna decide "Hey lets take a trip to the heart and see what happens"....Real fun.
I wont mention shit on shit that I shit you not I cant shitten believe.
So I go get a Furry Scan.
The Cat Scan goes fine, I guess, warm shit injected in a IV and make you feel like you pissed your pants, fun.
So the Doc calls about 5 hours after the Scan is done to say that the clotting is negligiable ( PHEW...) BUT....
"You seem to have MORE fractures then we saw on the XRays, as a matter of fact, you fractured ribs 2,3 & 4, but also 5 & 6. Not only the back side, but the front of them ALL as well, in numerous places"
Gee thats why it hurts.
"And it also showed that you fractured your sternum"
And I cant sleep. The searing pain in my ankle hasnt let me sleep for 2 days. I've eaten all the Oxycodone w/ no relief.
Like the moron that I am, i returned to work on Monday, worked the firehouse on Wednesday (Not good, not good, not good) and the Pink on Thursday and Friday.
I did not know that this little patch of fun was there until this morning. Me and the nurse C are waiting for that big ol' patch of yellow above it to turn as well. Thanks for all the get well wishings.
KJ Tree
Whats Below.
Surf Above
Mr. KJ
Run!
Dawn, red as blood.
Dawn boogie boarder cut back
The first light of red this AM.
A view I like.
This is where you scramble back up when done surfing. Its a bitch when the sets come and push your tired ass against the ledge.
Under these 2 trees is a nice spot to watch the surf.
From the channel/shoulder.
The city's warning to would be doofus'. Doesnt work, BTW.
Dawn and ghost board.
A peeler on the inside after the crowd showed up.
Morning has broken.
The Banyan Tree
Gotta feed the kids and animals
Used to be able to fall, no penalties
Making Malasadas, 1951
Kaleo
Helmet getter
