Sucking Up Luckal Cullar
Hi everyone,
I can't believe I am back in Hawaii, but I am drinking up every second of it, or "sucking up luckal cullar" as Ricky Ricardo once said of his wife on the grape-sromping episode of I Love Lucy.
As I sat on my friend Craig's balcony struggling with the decision of eating another piece of Hawaiian bread versus being a good boy and eating a slice of papaya instead (the bread won, natch), something like 27,000 people stampeded down the end of Kahala Street in the Hawaii marathon.
Did I feel guilty?
Not.
I gave them a finger wave and settled down to seome serious snoozing.
It's so good to be back in a place where the headline on the front page of the paper reads "Person hit by tree in Kahaluu." News bulletins about sharks circling the bay in Haleiwa bring a smile to my face; two hit and runs in one day prompt me to fold up the newspaper and not look again until I am back in LA.
I came here to avoid reading dwindling prospects of the writer's strike negotatiations and I am going to have a good time.
Went to Zippys at Ala Moana Mall for breakfast. I think they put something in their food because it's an addiction with me. I ran straight into the woman I'd been sitting next to on the flight from LA. You know Zippys must be damned fine when she, the owner of the Roy's chain of restaurants in LA is eating at Zippys.
We had a huge breakfast but managed to find room for cherry napples and we went up to Macys together and looked at Christmas ornaments, then I waddled back to Craig's house.
He asked me if I was hungry.
"Damned straight," I said, fearful of getting hit by a bolt of thunder.
We walked down Nu'uanu Pali to Chinatown (I argue with myself that this three block walk is working off the gargantuant meal I've just had) and we visited the Byodo-In temple, banged the gong, lit some incense and said prayers for us and for our friends and offered the Goddess Kwan Yin some fresh oranges from the market next door.
Craig is a malihini (newcomer) to the islands. Even after 23 years, yes, he's a newcomer but like me, a kama'aina (Hawaiian of the land) at heart.
He prayed for his bum knee to mend so he could go back and finish the marathon, the big phony, while I presented Kwan Yin with a shopping list of requirements.
Her statue's eyes looked a bit exhausted when I was done.
Craig was falling asleep...it was on to lunch in Chinatown and talking story.
I'm good for those things, talking and eating, enjoying warm weather.
Life is good.
Life is da kine.
Aloha oe,
A.J.
I can't believe I am back in Hawaii, but I am drinking up every second of it, or "sucking up luckal cullar" as Ricky Ricardo once said of his wife on the grape-sromping episode of I Love Lucy.
As I sat on my friend Craig's balcony struggling with the decision of eating another piece of Hawaiian bread versus being a good boy and eating a slice of papaya instead (the bread won, natch), something like 27,000 people stampeded down the end of Kahala Street in the Hawaii marathon.
Did I feel guilty?
Not.
I gave them a finger wave and settled down to seome serious snoozing.
It's so good to be back in a place where the headline on the front page of the paper reads "Person hit by tree in Kahaluu." News bulletins about sharks circling the bay in Haleiwa bring a smile to my face; two hit and runs in one day prompt me to fold up the newspaper and not look again until I am back in LA.
I came here to avoid reading dwindling prospects of the writer's strike negotatiations and I am going to have a good time.
Went to Zippys at Ala Moana Mall for breakfast. I think they put something in their food because it's an addiction with me. I ran straight into the woman I'd been sitting next to on the flight from LA. You know Zippys must be damned fine when she, the owner of the Roy's chain of restaurants in LA is eating at Zippys.
We had a huge breakfast but managed to find room for cherry napples and we went up to Macys together and looked at Christmas ornaments, then I waddled back to Craig's house.
He asked me if I was hungry.
"Damned straight," I said, fearful of getting hit by a bolt of thunder.
We walked down Nu'uanu Pali to Chinatown (I argue with myself that this three block walk is working off the gargantuant meal I've just had) and we visited the Byodo-In temple, banged the gong, lit some incense and said prayers for us and for our friends and offered the Goddess Kwan Yin some fresh oranges from the market next door.
Craig is a malihini (newcomer) to the islands. Even after 23 years, yes, he's a newcomer but like me, a kama'aina (Hawaiian of the land) at heart.
He prayed for his bum knee to mend so he could go back and finish the marathon, the big phony, while I presented Kwan Yin with a shopping list of requirements.
Her statue's eyes looked a bit exhausted when I was done.
Craig was falling asleep...it was on to lunch in Chinatown and talking story.
I'm good for those things, talking and eating, enjoying warm weather.
Life is good.
Life is da kine.
Aloha oe,
A.J.
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