Hawaiianmark Surf Page

31.1.06

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.

Aloha.

27.1.06

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.

Aloha!

26.1.06

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 ...

inspire.

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.

Aloha.

22.1.06

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.

Aloha.

20.1.06

Rick Griffin - Artwork

Tales

Stories

Aloha.

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.

Smile now, fools

Pix order = bottom to top.

Aloha.

19.1.06

Time

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

The Massie Affair

Great show, sorrowful acts.

Surfed.

Good fun.

Less not more, stress.

So be it.

Aloha

18.1.06

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.

Aloha.

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.

Yourself.

'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!)

Aloha.

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.

Ever.

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

17.1.06

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.

Pshaw!

....Spock ya laters!

Aloha.

14.1.06

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

Whine.

Moan.

Complain.

Waha.

Itchy.

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.

Or.

Maybe.

Aloha.

Urgk!

B4 & After...Her shampoosies boxes

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

Aloha.

12.1.06

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,

LOVE.

I love you. .... ...

ALOHA

11.1.06

Kinda had along day

Long day of tile

10.1.06

2 fer Tuesday - WOTD (waves of the day)

THIS is a bumper sticker

Owl Eyes

XXXL

Dreams.

Aloha

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 -