...Chop wood, carry water...

2011-09-16T15:58:00.002-10:00

I think I'll try this place. I like that they are inclusive, liberal/conservative, smart/dumb, etc...According to the website one doesn't have to agree with everything taught, or vice versa. I like that. I know I could never go back to an evangelical bible believing (you know what I mean) church again. I just won't drink the koolaid. That is such a great metaphor.

Anyway, I have connections with the Episcopal or Anglican church. First, my folks are English and Scottish. Or they were, I don't know if they still are. Second, the church/cult/screwy religion I grew up in started as an offshoot of the Anglican Church. The Brethren that met at Plymouth.

I'm interested in a place to serve the community. I'm also interested in having ritual and a connection to tradition again. So I may just try them one of these Sundays.

www.christchurchkona.com

The woot of all weevil

2011-09-15T15:35:00.002-10:00

On my walk this morning I was remembering St. Paul's warning to little St. Timothy that "...the love of money is the root of all evil." I was taught that the evil this refers to consists of murder and thievery and robbery and extortion, and whatever else. In other words, things that don't much apply to me at this point in my life. I wondered, then, if maybe there is another evil that the love of money is the root of. Like maybe fear or envy.

Fear and envy are evils in my life. I hate 'em. They keep me up at night. For me, their root is in the love of money. I don't care about material goods, other than a few basics. But having money is security. Now that we're struggling to make the shop work, and we're seeing our meager savings dwindle, the temptation to fear and envy is greater than ever.

So here's to living a day at a time and letting the future worry about itself. "Consider the lilies of the goddamn field" for chrissakes.

Reinvention part the second

2011-07-14T16:10:00.001-10:00

So my niece is visiting this week. She is much loved and has sparked my thinking for a reinvention of myself as my last two attempts haven't taken. She was the inspiration for an extemporaneous speech this semester in school. I stood in front of the class and drew a topic from the hat. "Male pole dancers."

I started by saying my niece is an exotic dancer in Las Vegas and listening to her descriptions of the acrobatics that the dancers perform was fascinating. Part of her routine involves twirling to the top of the pole and balancing against the ceiling with no visible means of support. (Maybe not the best choice of words). I told the class that I thought I could do that, or at least do a Chippendale routine, I mimed removing my entire outfit with one sexy yank.

The speech was a hit and I even made a buck.

So two obvious possibilities present themselves re. reinvention...

Reinvention

2011-07-10T12:43:00.000-10:00

I've always thought and said that I've reinvented myself several times throughout my life, I've been a printer, a teacher, a school administrator, a small business owner, a student. I realized this morning, though, that none of these are a reinvention by my way of thinking. These are just changes in profession. I wonder if I really can reinvent myself. In lieu of a midlife crisis I think I'll try.

I could change my name. Dede Tioli, David Tioli. That would be a hassle and since we're well established here, I think it would be more trouble than it's worth. I could give myself a sobriquet though. Or a nickname like Sting...Tioli. Actually, a fair number of people in the are know me as Tioli. I've also been known as Doctor Dave. But I'm no healer. I am a caregiver, though.

How about:

Nurse Dede
Nurse David

Nurse Dede is currently a nursing student, and co-owner of Hawaii Consignment dba Sandra's Consignment.
Nurse Dede doesn't define himself by an occupation. Nurse is more than an occupation.
Nurse Dede is a non-drinker, non-smoker, non-drug abuser.
Nurse Dede is happy, satisfied with where he is in life, and the circumstances that life has brought.
Nurse Dede is physically healthy, exercises and works hard, and eats right.
Nurse Dede attends to, and loves his family and pets.
Nurse Dede loves living in Hawaii and on the Big Island.
Nurse Dede knows that most nurses are young females and is fine with that stereotype being applied to him in some way, even by himself.
Nurse Dede enjoys thinking about the good times but doesn't obsess or become morose over the hard times.
Nurse Dede subscribes generally to the idea of "live and let live" except when it involves religion or harmful conservatism/liberalism in any form, or anything else he doesn't like.
Nurse Dede trusts his intuition (sees clearly without eyes), in relationships, diagnostics, situations.

God

2011-07-06T16:17:00.000-10:00

I've been experimenting with a new definition of god. I don't believe in a personal, god. I don't believe in the god I grew up with, the evangelical, omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, all loving father, etm. It has taken years to shed those beliefs, and I've chronicled that journey somewhere around here. I do want a definition that I can live with and more importantly, that will allow me to hear other people say "god bless you," or "thank god for our freedom" or whatever without cringing.

So here is what I'm thinking. God is the idea that I am not the center of the universe. It's a little awkward but it works as well as any definition and better than many. And so far I'm happy with it.

"I am not the center of the universe, bless you."

"Thank, I am not the center of the universe, it's Friday."

"Thank, I am not the center of the universe, for our great nation."

It works for me, and I don't have to wrap my mind around the idea that with the view of god I grew up with, I am actually a better God and father than God is.

Website that Charlie Built

2010-10-26T16:09:00.002-10:00

Here's a website that Charlie built to sell the laird's boat in Michigan. You want-um boat?

www.solarbob.com

Been Awhile...

2010-09-24T17:36:00.000-10:00

Since I've posted. I'm doing all the right things, but still blue, and can't seem to generate the interest in anything. I'm in school, as at least one of you knows. That shows I'm not ignoring our future, right? And I'm doing well! Learning the stuff and getting good grades...I'm actively looking for work to keep some money coming in while I'm in school. That shows I'm not ignoring our present right, even though I can't even get a job at the local Radio Shack? I'm working hard on the farm, in exchange for a place to stay, although that will change soon. That must show something.

So that's why no posts, I guess.

De Duva for Steve

2010-06-14T06:59:00.001-10:00

Merry "Butcher's Bill Day" (May 31, 2010)

2010-05-29T09:26:00.001-10:00

Nothing will end war unless the people themselves refuse to go to war.

--Albert Einstein

Allow the president to invade a neighboring nation, whenever he shall deem it necessary to repel an invasion, and you allow him to do so whenever he may choose to say he deems it necessary for such a purpose—and you allow him to make war at pleasure.

--Abraham Lincoln

I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends.

Force is all-conquering, but its victories are short-lived.

--Abraham Lincoln

What is absurd and monstrous about war is that men who have no personal quarrel should be trained to murder one another in cold blood.

Aldous Huxley

Why should we hear about body bags, and deaths...I mean, it's not relevant. So why should I waste my beautiful mind on something like that?

--Barbara Bush

About the quote: Mrs. Bush spoke these words on ABC's "Good Morning America," March 18, 2003.

Do not waste time bothering whether you "love" your neighbor; act as if you did.

--C.S. Lewis

Wisdom is better than weapons of war.

--Ecclesiastes 9:18

This is one in honor of my brother Rob, who began to think:

"If my soldiers were to begin to think, not one of them would remain in the army."

--Frederick the Great

Any forces that would impose their will on other nations will certainly face defeat.

--General Vo Nguyen Giap

Guard against the impostures of pretended patriotism.

George Washington

Free nations are peaceful nations. Free nations don't attack each other. Free nations don't develop weapons of mass destruction.

--George W. Bush

About the quote: from a speech on 10/3/03

...the role of the military is to fight and win war and, therefore, prevent war from happening in the first place.

George W. Bush

"My country right or wrong" is like saying, "My mother drunk or sober."

--G. K. Chesterton

The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders...tell them they are being attacked, and denounce the peacemakers for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger.

--Herman Goering

Each man must for himself alone decide what is right and what is wrong, which course is patriotic and which isn't.

--Mark Twain

We all have to be concerned about terrorism, but you will never end terrorism by terrorizing others.

--Martin Luther King III

If you want to make peace, you don't talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.

--Moshe Dayan

All wars are fought for money.

--Socrates

For Laird Robert: A Walk Around the Farm

2010-05-28T17:56:00.001-10:00

The Job Front

2010-05-22T12:19:00.000-10:00

I'm still getting requests to interview with the DODEA. I've turned down a couple (interviews, not offers) because I don't want to be a principal. Sunday I'll interview with Seoul American High School. With our luck, I'll get the job and NK will attack.

I've also applied, have been examined, and have been qualified for two State of Hawaii jobs. One is for an EA position at the school level here locally. I figured that could be good because it's part-time, it's brainless, and it's decent hours and pay. I'll do that if I'm still in school in the Fall.

The second is with the Executive Branch of the State, on Oahu, It's an Administrative Services position, so mid-level bureaucrat. The open position is with the Stadium Authority (Aloha Stadium), though they could assign me anywhere. The pay is great, it's civil service, unionized, and has good benefits. I'd like to at least get an interview out of it.

I'm also working on Plan C which is school. This summer I'll be taking Pharmacology, Human Development, and Speech/communications. I couldn't get out of the speech class even though I've been and English teacher and administrator for 16 years.

I Had a Dream...

2010-05-15T17:06:00.001-10:00

My daughter asked me why I don't eat cucumbers. I said in a very good Scottish accent:

"It all goes back to our ancestor MacDonald. He was fightin' in the battle of Ancrum Moor durin' the time of the rough wooin'. The fightin' was fierce and the Laird grew weary. He fell back to rest against the baggage that lay scattered about, pulled a cucumber from his belt and began to cut thin slices which he lay upon his knee. Of a sudden an arrow flew from the fog and pierced his heart. Now some might attribute the rogue arrow to the battle that was raging around him, but there's no harm in caution."

I need Daniel here to interpret. It's beyond me.

For My Wishlist

2010-05-10T08:03:00.000-10:00

Common Sense: A FUNdamental Guide to Punctuation

“‘Writing well is important for business, but it also can be crucial in love,’ the writers warn. “Do you want to say, ‘I would like to tell you that I love you. I can’t stop thinking that you are one of the prettiest women on Earth,’ or ‘I would like to tell you that I love you. I can’t. Stop thinking that you are one of the prettiest women on Earth.’? As Lederer and Shore say, ‘Punctuation can mean the difference between a second date and a restraining order.” —Margo Hammond, St. Petersburg Times

More Life on the Farm

2010-05-06T14:54:00.001-10:00

60 degrees F and 16 hours of rain.

Ccccold...

Wonders of modern religion.

Monarch and marigold.

Paraglider off the lanai.

Kalij Pheasant

Planning the next big thing...

2010-05-06T14:14:00.000-10:00

I think I mentioned that I'm interested in going back to school, might as well, don't have job prospects at the moment (though that might change). I've been interested in a medical related career since childhood when I saw a radiologist in action x-raying my broken nose after it was hit with a baseball bat. Recently I've thought again about going into nursing or a med-tech field.

My doctor isn't too keen on the idea. He thinks it would make more sense to build on what I already have. So if I'm interested in the medical field, I should get a master's in Med Administration, or Human Resources, or Health Informatics. Or I should get a Master's in Special Ed and sneak back into administration through a sped job. These all make sense. Better that than starting all over again, right?

Thing is they don't appeal. I don't much like administration, though I can do it, and will again if I get an ed admin job. But if I'm going to go back to school anyway, I'd rather do something new. So I signed up at our local community college as a pre-nursing student. I'll have a year of pre-requisites, then take the exam to get into the nursing program. They only take about a third of the students that apply, so I'll apply at all the programs in Hawaii, and figure out living arrangements later.

I'm nervous about it all, but excited too. I know it's a risk, I could fail to get into ANY nursing program and be that much farther behind the times job-wise. But, what the heck, I've never been one to avoid risk.

Life on the Job Front

2010-04-21T11:10:00.000-10:00

My reader will remember that I applied to the Department of Defense Education Activity (DODEA) back in December. They are hiring administrators for their elementary and secondary schools located on military bases around the world. The application process was intense and time consuming, involving a lot of writing on specific prompts. In March I received my score, 52/80. I was disappointed by that because they only interview the top candidates. I put the DOD out of my mind.

Yesterday I got an email that Ft. Campbell, KY had been trying to contact me for an interview. They scheduled it for today, 11:00 AM, via telephone. I set my alarm, spent the rest of the day preparing and went to bed early. This morning I was studying a bit, having tea, waiting for 45 minutes until they call for the interview, got up to grab my phone and saw I had a missed call. Yep, I had not figured the time difference correctly. Instead of starting at 7:00 as I was prepared for, it started at 6:00AM.

They called back right away and we went straight into the strangest and most difficult interview I've ever done. First of all I was rattled by the missed call and the early hour. I also have only done one other phone interview and hadn't remembered how hard it is to talk without body language clues from the interviewers. They started by introducing themselves, too quickly. I had done my research the day before so I did get who they all were, not that I had a chance to use their names in a conversational manner. Then the leader said they have a series of 12 questions and I have three minutes to answer. She then launched into the first question. It went like that for a half hour or so, just a question read and a stumbling reply by me.

I feel pretty bad about it. I've been out of the school setting long enough to not have the vocabulary and jargon on the tip of my tongue. I also felt like three minutes was either too long or not long enough. Not long enough to say anything meaningful, and too long to fill with cliches. I stumbled through it thankful that I at least now know what to expect if there is a next time.

In thinking about it later I wondered what the point of the interview was. Did they already have their choice and this was just a formality? Why was there absolutely no attempt at developing rapport? No comments on the questions, no follow up questions, no "tell us about yourself," no "what's the weather like there?" Maybe the object was to put you in an uncomfortable, pressure situation and see how you did. The interview could easily have been handled by a voice on a phone with your answers recorded for later review, it was that impersonal. I was prepared for a conversation among human beings and surprised by what actually happened. Anybody know if this is a new interviewing technique?

I was, and am thrilled that in spite of my seeming bad score on the written material, I was still called for an interview. Chances are I'll get another shot as other positions open up around the world. However, I'm not pleased with my performance today, wondering if I can be any better next time, and seriously wondering if I am washed up and good for nothing more than farm work (Which I love, but it doesn't pay much).

Still interested in Nursing, though I found that the ASN program is more like three years which is a long time to try to live without an income.

Food for the Eagle Worm, redux

2010-04-21T10:05:00.000-10:00

Thoughts provoked by Christof Meyer's comment on the previous post. Or, "My Beef with Christianity, Part 4."

Thank you very much Mr. Meyer. I don't mean this as a response to your well written comment, just another opportunity for me to see what I'm thinking by taking dictation.

First, I really enjoyed the Piper page. I like thinking about alternative views of Christianity. I'm struck, though, with how complicated it (religion in all its different manifestations) is for a simple mind like mine. I always have been. All my life I've wanted to believe in a literal God, in Jesus as God, as I was taught, but it is not the simplest way to view things.

I'm also happy that you've taken the time to express your thoughts in the context of the impending birth of your daughter, because it brings up the impetus for my final abandonment of traditional, evangelical Christianity. As I said, all my life I've known that Christianity doesn't work for me as a philosophy (I know, I know "relationship with a living God"), but what really sealed the deal for me was having kids and finding that I am a better father than "God the Father."

As a father, if you see your children are in danger you act. If they are hungry, you feed them. If they are cold, you clothe them. If they have flies laying eggs in their eyes, you take care of it. If I was omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnieverything I would take better care of my kids than God does. I know there are responses to all this, but again, they complicate things and for me the simplest answer is the best. I know "God has a plan," but again, if I have a plan that kills, maims, sickens, rapes, my children, then maybe I ought to think up another plan. I know God values free will in his children, wants them to love him of their own accord, but if I were the Christian God, I would rethink that. How many of us is truly free anyway?

I'm fine with Christians believing what they do, ditto Muslims, Baha'is, Mormons, whomever. I am acutely aware, though, that what the reader (and I) choose to believe is just a way of getting us through the night. The reason I keep harping on it, is my upbringing. It has been murderously difficult to break out of the milieu of my training as a child, and this blog is a way of manifesting that.

I also understand that Jesus was an important historical figure. The only reason he has become as outrageously important as he has is the intrusion of religion and the mythologizing of his life. We use him to justify all sorts of things from hating gays, to murdering Jews. The real Jesus, sans virgin this, and celibate that, and water into wine, has much to say to us today, and I think when we make a religion out of him, we miss that. Ditto for Lao Tzu, and Baha'ullah, and the Dalai Lama.

What if there really is a God, a real, personable, interested-in-us, loving God, but he isn't perfect? He makes mistakes. What if there is a God that got bored with us and moved on to something else? What if God got all this going and then died? What if God is sadistic? None of these are new, but they all try to do what I was trying to do, which is make sense of the Christian message, which doesn't make much sense once you take a step back. It's easier, and more elegant, to dump the ideas that don't make sense, and go with the simplest.

Incidentally, I believe I am much more christian (the fruits of the spirit) than when I was a Christian. One might say that is because I have internalized my parents' teachings, but I have taken such an abrupt step away from those teachings that I don't think so.

Food for the Eagle or Worm

2010-04-19T17:36:00.000-10:00

Harvard Secular Society conferred lifetime achievement awards on MythBusters' Adam Savage and Jamie Hyneman this weekend. Adam's splendid acceptance speech is found on Boing Boing. I though about cutnpasting it but decided I'd just link to it. I'm not sure about permissions and all that anymore.

Food for the Eagle

I like it because it nicely sums up many conclusions I've come to in the last decade. Especially the part about prayer, that there isn't someone "out there" who is listening and granting, or not granting the request, but rather if one prays rightly, the prayer changes the supplicant. For instance, I pray daily, not that God will grant me a job, but that I will make the most of this period of unemployment and look back upon it as a wonderful time in my life. I could say that prayer to myself, to Jehovah, to Allah, to Jesus, or to Snoopy. The effect would be the same, because prayer changes me.

I also like the paragraph where he says the defining moment of adulthood is realizing that no one is going to take care of you. It would be nice if there were someone in charge but what we make of life is up to us. I don't mind if people believe that there is an actual God in control like I grew up with, but as my favorite uncle Ben said a few years ago, it is a choice we make, (and that doesn't necessarily make it true).

I don't mind that this life ends in death and that there is no literal heaven and hell with our loved ones waiting for us. If you get comfort from that, fine. I don't have that good of an imagination, I guess. I like the idea that the energy or thing that makes me me, and that goes away when I die, just goes into the energy pot. Scientists tell us energy cannot be destroyed, just changed, and that is good enough for me.

New Flower Shots...

2010-04-18T17:44:00.000-10:00

Baby Pineapple

Big Brother

Bromeliad

Hibiscus

Favorite Jeff Murdock Quotes

2010-04-17T11:47:00.016-10:00

Jeff Murdock, played by Richard Coyle, was a character in seasons 1-3 of Coupling. When he left the show we pretty much lost interest. The plot, for those that haven't seen the show, can be summed up thusly: "On average, men and women think about sex every six seconds. Shorten that to every second, and you've got Coupling."

--Steve: Well, how'd it go?
Jeff: She's leaving the country, doesn't speak English, I insulted her friend's breasts and she thinks I collect women's ears in a bucket.
Steve: Well, you've had worse.

--Jeff: I love the word naked, it's brilliant isn't it, 'naked'. When I was a kid I used to write the word naked on a bit of paper hundreds of times and rub my face in it.

--Jeff: Do you know what arses are, Patrick? Arses are the human race's favourite thing. We like them on each other, we like them on magazine covers, we even like them on babies! When it itches, we like to scratch them, when it’s cold, we like to warm them, and who among us, in a lonely moment hasn't reached back for a discreet fondle? When God gave us our arses he had to stick them round the back just so we wouldn't sit and stare at them all day. Cause when God made the arse he didn't say "Hey it's just your basic hinge, let's knock off early." He said "Behold ye angels, I have created the arse. Throughout the ages to come, men and women shall grab hold of these and shout my name!"

--Jeff: I am a prison for sperms. Those poor little tadpoles have been sentenced to life in Jeff Murdock's groin. And let me tell you, that can be a pretty lonely place.
Steve: I'm sure you always... lend a hand.
Jeff: Well, yeah, there's that. But that's not what the boys are wanting, is it? See, they want to think they're going somewhere when they go. I keep thinking about my brave lads all excited on the launch pad, and then suddenly it's "Ohh, no! Daylight!"

--Jeff: You know what having a girlfriend is like? Having a girlfriend is like legalised sex.
Steve: Jeff, sex is legal. It always has been legal.
Jeff: You know what I mean, when I have sex with Julia, it's just so... realistic.

--Jeff: Women remember, Steve. It's like they've got minds of their own.

--Jeff: I have a girlfriend!
Wilma: So you keep saying, so why are you here?
Jeff: Well, I-I-I just...
Wilma: She really does exist, this girlfriend?
Jeff: Oh, oh yeah she exists. She's very much an existing person, she's got tons of existence. [beat] Well not too much existence, I don't mean she's huge or anything. She's somewhere between completely imaginary and a truck. If you can picture that.

--Jeff: I'm not bad. I've never been bad... I'm fairly new to mild naughtiness.

--Jeff: You know jelly-wrestling... which is basically jelly with women wrestling in it... OK, well, think about this. Afterwards, after the wrestling, what happens to the jelly? Because you could sell that. That is a missed opportunity. You could bottle it and sell it... You take the women out first, obviously.

--Jeff: Yeah, the pause is like a whole third person in the conversation, only not saying much... like Patrick.

--Steve: I have forgotten in one moment of embarrassment, the *entire* English language!
Jeff: I hate it when that happens

--Jeff: Oh, wouldn't that be great.
Patrick: What?
Jeff: Being a lesbian. All the advantages of being a man but with less embarrassing genitals. Plus, every time you have sex, there's four breasts! Two guest breasts and two you can take home afterwards, oh, it's bloody brilliant!

--Jeff: Serious problem, Steve. Top of the range problem. Problem number one.
Steve: Number one?
Jeff: This is like Captain Problem. This is like "Houston, forget that other thing".

First Step

2010-04-16T11:46:00.000-10:00

I applied at the Unversity of Hawaii Center at West Hawaii this morning. The application asked my date of birth, and the drop-down list didn't go back far enough!

I put Nursing as my program, though it's easy to change if I decide to do something more in line with my existing degrees, say Human Resources or Public Administration.

So...

2010-04-14T19:34:00.002-10:00

I'm 50+ years old and I'm thinking about going back to school to become a nurse!

Healthy Meatloaf

2010-04-13T13:32:00.003-10:00

Healthy Meatloaf Recipe

• 1 pound ground beef
• 1 cup ricotta cheese
• 3 large eggs
• 3 Tablespoons vegetable or chicken broth
• 1 Tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
• 1/3 cup + 2 teaspoons 1% milk
• 1/2 cup + 1Tablespoon dried bread crumbs
• 1/3 cup finely chopped celery
• 1/3 cup parsley, chopped
• 2 Tablespoons minced shallots
• 1/2 Teaspoon salt
• 1/8 Teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 cup cooked potatoes, mashed
• 2 Tablespoons butter
• 2 Tablespoons Parmesan cheese, grated.

...because what could be healthier than ground beef, eggs, cheese, milk, butter, and more cheese?

Yellow Hydrant

2010-04-11T12:00:00.002-10:00

Just up Napo'opo'o Road from us are several Jacaranda trees with beautiful purple blossoms.

Look to the Ant

2010-03-29T11:14:00.006-10:00

When I was ten or so years old, my mother called me lazy. I'm sure it was deserved, I was probably trying to avoid taking the rubbish to the dump, or maybe I was sweeping dust under the rug as my brother had taught me to do. In any case, now 40 years later I can still vividly recall her words, ("You're laaazy") and her face, and the surroundings, and dust motes in the sunlight, and the sound of "Back to the Bible, with Theodore Epp," on the radio.

I am continually surprised, even now, that I work as hard as I do. Maybe I've been trying to live down her condemnation all my life, but I don't think so. I think I still believe I'm lazy, otherwise, why would I be surprised when I exhibit a good old fashioned PWE?

On a related note, I was weeding the garden this morning when I remembered a favorite bible passage of hers at least as it applied to me: Proverbs 24:30ff.

"I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding; And, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down.Then I saw, and considered it well: I looked upon it, and received instruction.Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth; and thy want as an armed man."

She had another one about ants, but I don't remember it. Again, my brother's fault, he taught me how you can use a magnifying glass to send the little commies straight to hell. I discovered that if you steal a strip of elastic from your mother's sewing kit, you can dispatch the ants without needing to bend over...hmm maybe Ma was right.

Pictures on the drive into the farm...

2010-03-27T17:25:00.008-10:00

A bright red tree of unknown lineage.

Colorful road

More road to the farm.

The road to the farm.

Kaawaloa (Kaawa "area"). The foreground area is the farm.

Jacaranda and goat.

Jacaranda and magenta Bougannville

Coqui Frog Song

2010-03-23T16:58:00.003-10:00

On a recent trip to Hilo I took the video camera out after dark. There's nothing to see, but plenty to hear.

Many people would like to eradicate the invasive Coqui, but being from the quiet side of the island, I enjoy hearing the tiny frogs when I visit the windward side.

More fun with the DOE

2010-03-23T11:31:00.002-10:00

The Hawaii Department of Education, when prioritizing candidates for their Educational Officers positions rank an unexperienced and nondegreed applicant that is already a DOE employee, over an experienced and degreed applicant that is not currently an employee (even if he was an employee in the recent past).

I know that the union has negotiated this in order to protect its members, but it doesn't seem to make sense from an educational or student-first standpoint.

Bombax

2010-03-08T09:38:00.002-10:00

What doesn't kill you...

2010-02-26T11:26:00.003-10:00

After a month of farm work, I decided to do a little experiment. I've been putting in about three hours a day, seven days a week in the yard. Nothing comes easy. In order to prune a certain coffee tree, I have to hack my way in, hauling the weeds and overgrowth to a dump site by hand, as the truck is commuting to a real job. I've been noticing that my breathing and heart rate seem as elevated as when I ride my bike, or take a run.

So today I wore my heart rate monitor. Sure enough, for the two hours I worked my heart rate was consistantly above 150 bpm, and often over 165. The lower number is an average bike ride for me, and the upper, an average run. The difference, of course, is that when I "exercise" it's only for an hour or so. Now I'm working my body that hard for three or four times that long. No wonder I'm tuckered out.

By way of reference: My resting heart rate is under 70. Normal activity is around 100. My target heart rate for fat burning (according to the experts) is 115. My target heart rate for cardio-vascular conditioning is 136. My max heart rate is 175--which I shouldn't approach very often, and not for very long, especially with my pulmonic stenosis.

As a kid, my doctor would tell me to have a normal activity level, just don't run marathons. Now I'm working myself at marathon level. Hopefully it'll make me stronger and not kill me.

Life on the Farm

2010-02-02T20:21:00.006-10:00

Our life has changed dramatically in the last two weeks. An offhand remark made to a friend of ours about our home situation prompted an offer to trade work on his farm for the rental of his coffee shack. We had been to the farm many times, but never to the shack, as it had always been occupied. With some trepidation we took a tour on Wednesday, loved it, and started moving in on Saturday--at least a month before we actually have to be out of our house.

Bob mainly needs daily maintenance on the farm. He's tired of it all and it is clearly overwhelming if you let it get away from you. I've spent a week or so getting the area around the shack cleaned up, trimmed, pruned and repaired. Next I'll expand a bit to take in the main house and out-buildings. The farm has a variety of produce, mainly given away. Selling, even at the Farmer's Market is just too much work for the money, Bob says. So produce: avacadoes; bananas; lemons; oranges; tangarines; lilikoi (passion fruit); Bombax (cotton); coconut; coffee; chickens; one goat; several feral pigs.

The house itself, is a genuine coffee shack with a moveable roof. The coffee was dried on the top of the ceiling, and when it rained, the roof was pulled over the beans. Think cabin in the mountains and you'll have a good idea. All redwood, single wall, with cracks and knotholes looking through to the jungle. Propane heating and cooking--we have to haul the propane in bottles. Real electricity, real water, slate and wood floors.

We've thought about naming the house "Tioli's Treehouse," or "Right Side Up," as in how we landed.

The big globe light is in the kitchen.

To harvest bananas you cut down the entire tree (15 feet or so plus leaves). The trunk is easy to cut using a wicked curved knife with a slightly serrated edge. Sticky juice pours from the plant when it is cut. The sap/water makes good glue.

Coffee

Bird of Paradise. I personally don't see it.

From the entry way, looking into the kitchen and living room.

The bathroom with a ship's porthole. The tub/shower is raised about 14 inches so you can bathe and enjoy the view out the screen.

The lower lanai.

The view from Andrea's bed.

Andrea's separate "ohana."

Avacadoes

Tangarines and the kitchen garden.

Tractor shed.

Into the living room from the kitchen.

Main lanai.

I thought this was a chameleon, but now I'm not so sure. He was very slow moving. Careful and precise.

Ants. Many, many ants.

The winged two-year-old funnel

2010-01-06T15:01:00.002-10:00

My blog reader will remember that with the closing of our shop, Tioli Creative Center, we found that we had no choice but to file for protection under the bankruptcy code. It was a very difficult decision, but ended up being the best thing for us personally. Our landlord and bank were unwilling to work with us during the recession, which hit for us in the summer of 2007. Apparently the bank and our landlord felt it would be better to force us into an intractable position, rather than extend terms that would have enabled us to remain open.

Yesterday, we had the first meeting with the Federal Trustee who comes to Hilo once a month. After waiting for several hours we had our shot. All it entailed was answering several questions under oath about our need for bankruptcy and our remaining assets (abandoned fixtures and inventory). We were in and out in 10 minutes. At first we were tempted to feel let down, girded, as we were, for a fight. But our attorney (and us) had done such a great job preparing the documents that there was nothing left to say but "good luck!"

The upshot of it all is this: We lose our house. Well, we could have kept it until the bank sued for what we owed them (probably only when the equity was rebuilt, if ever). But we chose to give it up to be free and clear of the debt and to be free to move if a job offer should occasion it. If ever the real estate market came back to such an extent that we could sell the house, the bank would take the equity, so we'd be in the same boat as renting (not including maintenance). We'll also give up one of our vehicles, the only one we owe on. We could reaffirm that loan, but why bother? We don't really need the car, and again, we're free to move if we need to.

So that's it. We feel free and easy, ready to move at the drop of a hat should a job offer come our way. And speaking of which, we have two interesting possibilities. The Pacific Aviation Museum is advertising for an Education Director. I've gotten a call back for an interview, but no set time, so who knows what they're thinking. It may be that they have to interview or take apps, according to policy, but don't have any intention to hire. The other opportunity is hiring for sure. It's with the Department of Defense at one of their many schools for military and civilian dependents on military bases throughout the world. They need school administrators, and that's me. The app process is tedious and intense, and I'm about halfway through. I'll know something end of March for a job starting in July or August. We're holding out hope for the UK, but will take anywhere in the world.

I've been tempted not to talk to the kids about these possibilities. Tempted to say "don't get your hopes up." But the heck with it. My hopes are up, and if I don't get either job, I'll be sorely disappointed, maybe even depressed, but so what? Hope is the thing with feathers that gives our hearts a lift. And it's helping us all to see that there may be some light at the end of this two-year-old funnel.

From the "I gotta getta job," Files

2009-12-19T16:48:00.008-10:00

This time of year I tend to dust off my collection of inappropriate Jesus and Christmas images. It reminds me of the reason for the season, and keeps my thoughts on all that is good and wholesome and true.

My favorite prayer of all time: As a young Christian we used to sit around talking about how we pictured Jesus. I also love the grunts of Cal the sidekick, sounds like a PB prayer meetin'.

Jesus loves the little children. Either that or he's just happy to see them.

Love a good velvet painting.

...and little girls too!

Watch the hands, coach.

Cheesus: The reason for the season.

Mary: "Jesus Christ! shut the door, were you born in a barn?"

A Little Island Hopping

2009-10-25T10:43:00.013-10:00

Last week we did a little scouting for business opportunities. We started on Lana'i and ended up on Oahu. We got some good ideas, and some rest and saw some beautiful places.

View of the Fourseasons at Manele Bay from the beach. There are great rates available for kama'aina (locals). It's off season, and a still a bit slow.

Maui on the left, and Kaho'olawe on the right. On a clear day, you can see Hawaii Island behind Kaho'olawe.

View from the sitting room.

The sitting room. The entire resort has a Chinese theme.

One of the many murals depicting a traditional Chinese wedding.

Up country at Kolele

Up country again.

Fourseasons at Kolele

Lana'i City. Sounds, looks and smells like a little Colorado town.

We had forgotten how much croquet sucks. Apparently others had not, as the courts were all vacant. I almost scored a sextuple peel, but when I missed I went back to taking pictures.

Growing on a Banyon Tree.

An aircraft hanger on Ford Island abandoned after the December 7, 1941 attack and showing damage caused by the explosion of the USS Arizona (blown out windows).

The original control tower on Ford Island.

That'll carry a lot of Twinkies...

Post Ironman workout

2009-10-15T19:33:00.002-10:00

I spent the 2009 Ironman World Championships standing on the sidelines with my camera (for about an hour) waiting for a Pullet Surprise moment. Didn't get a one, even with over 200 shots taken. The next day at our local gym, I thought about racism and politics.

Our gym has a bank of tv's with the sound off, but CC on, in front of the elliptical machines, stationary bikes and stare-masters. This particular day, I was watching Fox News because that was on one of the monitors. The other monitors had Oprah, and a "Secret lives of women" episode about prostitution that I really wanted to watch, but didn't because...well, I didn't. On Fox news, BTW, I don't watch news channels anymore. They all seem like my Ma's opera when I was young: Lots of screeching, so you know there must be something important going on, but it's too much trouble to figure it all out. Ditto with internet news sources which seem to be all blogs.

Anyway, these three white guys, and one white woman were talking about how some people think that criticism of Obama is racist. At least twice, the talking heads said "I don't care if he's green, or purple..." another said "I don't care if he is mauve or puse..." They also said, repeatedly, "I don't have a racist bone in my body..." Was it Shakespeare that said "Methinks he doth protest too much?"

I was struck that none said: "I don't care if he's black or brown..." they just used Barney colors. Does that mean they DO care if he's black or brown? And further, I do have a racist bone in my body. I have my guard up when I meet an older white male...the difference is, I recognize my prejudices and don't let them get in the way of personal interactions...they just warn me a little...

Dunno where I'm going with all this.

Kona Ironman 2009, Part 1

2009-10-05T12:24:00.003-10:00

It's that time of year again; the Ironman World Championship. This is the week when the village and most of Ali'i Drive slows to a crawl or shuts down completely due to bicycles riding three abreast and runners swerving into traffic to avoid a stick or pebble on the shoulder.

I enjoy this race. I like all the hoopla and the hype, enjoy seeing the elite athletes training on the roads, and I'm a runner and cyclist myself. But even I find myself growing increasingly annoyed by the slow pace on Ali'i Drive.

Yesterday evening while returning from my walk with Jack and Saylor at End of the World, I heard a horn blare (a rarity here) and screeching tires. Ahead of me an athlete had suddenly swerved her bike into the street, nearly getting hit. As I passed her, I slowed and told her how close she came to dying, not so much because of the car and the serve, but because she did that in front of ME. (My reader will remember that I seem to attract fatal accidents).

Maybe I'll try to post some photos, it's fun to see the transformation of Kailua from a sleepy village to the host of an international event. On the other hand, it's dang hot, and who needs traffic and crowds?

For the Non-Facebook crowd

2009-09-13T18:13:00.004-10:00

Andrea was written up by the Girls By Design crew. Here's what they say about the site:

"THIS SITE IS THE FIRST STEP FOR KRISTIN KREUK AND KENDRA VOTH TOWARDS CREATING A PLACE WHERE TEEN GIRLS CAN COME TOGETHER TO EXPLORE, EXPRESS, CREATE AND REALIZE THEIR POTENTIAL TOGETHER."

I don't think they mean to shout.

Click Here for the Article

Rant Alert

2009-08-18T09:36:00.004-10:00

Today is Tioli's last day open to the public. As I walked around the shop turning on lights and fans, I thought back to the first days of setting up shop and opening for business. We had something special here, but times have changed enough that we've been left in the dust.

Even when we opened almost five years ago, we were a dinosaur, an anchronism. We were a shoppe like those of olde where you went as much to socialize and hear the news as you did to buy. We bartered products for food, we extended credit, we gave away pens and toy gliders. We carried Slinkys and jigsaw puzzles for crying out loud. About all we didn't do was allow folks to spit on the floor.

On Sunday we got together with a couple we met through the shop. They said they had a business opportunity for us. They were overwhelmed, they said, with their internet business and needed someone to help. Sarah and I thought it was related to their sales of fine art giclees and originals. They showed up at the restaurant all spiffed up in mainland-style business attire. I figured they had just come from church, but learned soon enough that they hadn't.

They went through a long presentation involving a canned speech and visuals. They talked about how Amazon makes their money, and how the internet is on the cusp of revolutionizing small businesses. My heart sunk more and more with each moment, and Sarah's rage waxed with each moment. I finally realized that it was just another multi-level marketing scheme like Pre-paid Legal or Amway.

I tried to pin them down to the bottom line. "I'm out of work," I said. "I need an income. How much can we expect to make for our 20 hours per week investment?" They had their answer but it was so wacky that it took me several minutes to believe it. You don't MAKE money in this scheme, you SAVE money, and the money you SAVE is your income. You pay your $55.00 a month, and that lets you buy wholesale from hundreds of businesses and choose from millions of products that you already use, from clothing to paper towels. As you recruit other marks, your discount percentage grows.

We said this was not for us. Sarah said buying online is what helped to sink our business (which is definately true). We said this was so far from our committment and desire to be a part of and contribute to our community that it would be a soul-sucking thing. Further, without an income it doesn't matter how much we might save, because we aren't going to be able to spend on clothing and digital cameras and a flat screen tv.

I felt betrayed by these folks, ambushed, like I feel around Mormons and Jehovah's Witlesses and like my marks must have felt when I was involved in Evangelism Explosion way back when. I was disappointed, too, that they didn't understand what Tioli's was about, and by extension what we were about.

It reminded me of the friends I wrote about awhile back. Like the couple in the older story, the couple we met on Sunday started in a very patronizing manner. They didn't find about their target audience, they didn't try to find out our background or business philosophy, they assumed that since we're white and in business for ourselves we must be conservative republicans, religious, and only interested in making as much money as we can, traveling as far as we can, and buying as much stuff as we can.

The couple Sunday started by commending me for my willingness to talk about our financial troubles, and my apparent egolessness (HA! ask Sarah about that one). I don't remember where I was going with that, and I don't care anymore.

End Rant Alert.

Les Paul

2009-08-13T14:47:00.003-10:00

My all time favorite guitar is the Gibson Les Paul Standard, about a 1957 vintage. The instrument is named after the inventor of the electric guitar and many of the multi-track recording techniques we use on a daily basis today. Les Paul died today at 94.

Here are a couple videos, one of Les Paul and Chet Atkins doing a blues number. And the other of Eddie VanHalen. Skip a bit of the Van Halen video till you get to the end. All the wacko sounds and shredding that we take for granted were made possible by LP.

Ready for Some Weather Drama

2009-08-09T16:15:00.001-10:00

But maybe not THIS much.

Looks like Byron and Tosha might miss the fun...

Transitions

2009-08-07T12:16:00.003-10:00

So Byron moved off island yesterday for college. I saw him off on a jet plane in the early morning rain. When I got home later that day after a long day at the shop I sat on my bed and looked at a recently rediscovered photo of Byron and Andrea all dolled up and ready for some event or other. Byron must have been about six years old. He wears dress pants and a white shirt with a nice sport jacket over top. His hands are behind his back and he has one foot forward slightly in a classic model's pose.

Just that, I guess. Tonight I feel like a sad song.

Another Gordonism

2009-08-02T16:17:00.003-10:00

Along the vein of Rebar Emporium, Gordon wanted to open a Christian fishing supply store called Master Bait and Tackle. After a quick Google, I see it's been done in Florida, but I think Gordon thought of it first.

Word's Getting Out

2009-07-21T15:36:00.003-10:00

About our closing. We're getting a fair number of people coming in that we've never seen before. Inevitably their first words are "Are you having a big sale?" It got so bad yesterday that Mrs. T drew a nice picture of a vulture and put circle with a line through it over top. The classic "no...whatever" sign. She then posted the sign on the entry door. Not that anybody notices.

Speaking of vultures, If your friend is already dead and being eaten by vultures, I think it's okay to feed some bits of your friend to one of the vultures, to teach him to do some tricks. But only if you're serious about adopting the vulture. I dunno. What do you think? (Jack Handy).

Conservative Values

2009-07-10T09:34:00.003-10:00

I have a couple conservative friends (both old white guys) who got me thinking the other day. We'll call them Bob and Marion (because that's what their mothers named them).

Bob and I were talking about the potential threat of a missle attack from North Korea against the Hawaiian Islands over the July 4th Weekend. I was expressing gratitude that the Navy was moving a large radar system and anti-missle defense system into place near Pearl Harbor. He thought that was outrageous and suggested instead that we deploy our nuclear (nu-cue-lahr) submarines off the coast of Japan and nuke North Korea before they had the chance to launch. He said Obama is showing weakness by not confronting the North Koreans directly. Ditto for Iran, he said.

My conversation with Marion was similar. We were discussing the demise of our businesses and our need to find other work and living arrangements. He said he would like to walk into congress and...he mimed throwing grenades and firing a machine gun.

A third conversation took place with a very rich customer. She said that she thought the recession was going to continue for another year and that we were not yet in the worst of it. I asked if she could foretell the future, and she said no. I asked why be gloomy, then? Being negative is no more "realistic," than being positive. She grudgingly agreed.

(Digression Alert) My brother recently wrote me the following: "Just finished the book "The new Christians," lent by our pastor on "Emergent churches." Hokey name, but SOME interesting stuff therein. There is a group --fairly conservative theologically, but TRYING hard not to be cynical." (End Digression Alert).

These three conversations got me thinking about conservative values. I've heard many statements like these. Are negativity, cynicism, and especially violence conservative values? Can having a positive, faith-filled, attitude be contagious and actually help us out of our present difficulties? And why am I starting to sound like Carrie Bradshaw?

Clarity of Night

2009-06-30T09:56:00.002-10:00

Most of my life I've awakened in the wee hours of the night. Usually around 2:00 AM. I've learned not to worry about not sleeping. I often worry about other things, of course, but I know I can do well on very little sleep for a day or two. Last night in the wee hours, I remembered a favorite poem of mine that I posted on another blog a while ago. I thought I'd post it here, because I want to. So here's

Clarity of Night.

Awake again in the
muddle of the night.
Cold.
Ease out of bed.
Stoke the fire with
winter's last pinon.
Thermostat clicks and
wakes the baby.
I give her to her mother and
wait,
then change her and
stand at the window with
her on my shoulder,
her breath on my neck.

Outside late spring snow
falls in the
glow of a lamp,
the flakes mix with
sparks from the sap
filled pine log on the fire.
The up and down
confused.
Deepening drifts
silence the generator that
guards the night, and
pile high on the fence posts and
tree limbs.
One flake too much and
the branch bends
low sheds the
weight
springs back.

I will the dawn
away.
By force of mind,
forbid the glow in the
East from gaining a foothold on
Whirling Mountain.
My daughter stirs,
seeks deeper warmth.
I hear her breath in my ear.

Awake again at two AM.
Reach up with my foot to
silence the
fan that cools the night.
I walk through the quiet
house and onto the
lanai. I face the
sleeping jungle,
Surf crashes at Banyans.
My daughter comes up beside me and
I'm momentarily
embarrassed,
outside, as I am, in my boxers in the
middle of the night.

We stand together
watching the reflection of the
rising moon on the
Royal Palm, the Plumeria, the Kiawe.
Somewhere a Rain Dove calls
just once then falls silent.

She speaks of Yale and
Italy and
Friends she's left
behind.
Silence.
The woo-oo-oo-oo of the dove again.

As my daughter
moves to go
back to her bed, I
give her
a kiss. Then turn
back to the
jungle.

For a very long time I feel her breath
in my ear and
will the dawn away.

Tioli's Stimulus Bailout

2009-06-26T16:40:00.004-10:00

So here's a good one: We recently filled out a very complex application listing all sorts of financial and business information in anticipation of talking to a government official about a stimulus-related, no interest loan or grant. Well after quite a wait, today was our big interview. Mrs. T went in with high hopes but all she got were marketing ideas and the name of a good bankruptcy attorney.

Apparently we didn't qualify...

We're going to open shop tomorrow, and all next week, and all next month. We'll get through this just by choppin' the wood, and carryin' the water and showing up every day. But at the moment it's hard not to be a little bitter.

Further Thoughts on the Phrase "Life is Hard."

2009-06-22T10:29:00.002-10:00

I usually compose my blogs when I'm riding my bike. Half the time I forget what I was going to say by the time I get around to blogging, but this one has been sticking with me for a while. That's because our words have such power that I want to be careful what I say to myself.

Mrs. Tioli says "I'm feeling unhappy," when I might say "Life is hard." I think that is a much healthier and positive way to think about circumstances. For instance, I could say life is hard right now for several reasons:

--We don't have as much money as we'd like to have, or that we've had in the past.

--Our business is in a rocky place right now because of the slump in the economy.

--We're getting daily calls from creditors, and we're taking the first steps toward bankruptcy.

--We're feeling the stress in our backs and other health concerns.

--Our son is going off to college and we can't support him financially as well as we'd like.

--Our son is going off to college and we'll miss him.

--Our son is experiencing numbness in his upper body and has hand tremors.

--Our other son is in rehab, and while that's a positive step, there is still much healing to be done.

So life is hard. Not much I can do about it. If I say that to my friend he might respond "That's nothing, my wife died of breast cancer less than a year ago, I'm living on my own, sans children, for the first time in many years, I don't have a job and the market is tight..." In other words, "Life is Hard" is relative.

If, however, I say to my friend "I'm unhappy," the first thing he'll say to me is "About what?" The second thing he'll say, after I've complained a bit, is "You're unhappy, what are you going to do about it?" The difference, though subtle, is profound in my thinking: "Life is hard," makes me a victim needing saving. "I'm unhappy," puts the responsibility for change back on me, where it belongs.

De Duva

2009-06-17T12:37:00.007-10:00

If you have 14 minutes to spare, check out the attached video. It's a parody of the films of Ingmar Bergman, the great Swedish film maker. I first saw this short at a film festival at ASU. I and my friends didn't realize at first that this wasn't an actual Bergman film. Most of the scenes in the spoof refer to images or themes in Bergman films.

Make sure you listen to the soundtrack, and don't just read the subtitles. Half the fun is the language. Also, look for a very young Madeline Kahn in her first film role. Her "Swedish" word for cigar is a favorite of mine. Listen closely.

Pictures From Byron's 2009 Graduation

2009-06-08T11:02:00.000-10:00

Tosha

Byron

About 20% of the crowd.

Student Body President Leading the Class Song.

The KHS Waveriders doing the wave.

I don't think I've ever seen such a pure joy in the faces of graduates. And I've seen many, many graduations.

Singing the class song. Instead of choosing some sappy song from the hit parade, the class of 2009 wrote their own.

On the field afterwords you have to hold signs high to be able to find the graduate you're there for. This sign is for Cheryl, Ron's date at prom.

Leis!

More Leis!

2009-06-01T08:49:00.003-10:00

Yesterday, Sunday, we had the lowest daily income in the history of Tioli's. We didn't make enough to pay the daily utility bill, which isn't all that much for a warehouse our size.

I came in to work today, instead of taking a day off. I'm curious about what will happen. I remember feeling the same way when Ma died. I was curious, what would this be like? Is it the end of the world?

And yet, we just might make it, because we don't know what else to do other than show up every day.

Life is Hard

2009-05-30T13:49:00.002-10:00

I've been hearing a lot of folks saying and writing that life is hard, or life is tough. I've been wondering about that. Hard compared to what? Dying? I suppose so, dying is easy, people do it every day. Heck even old people can die. So, hard compared to what? Then it hit me. Life is only hard when it doesn't compare favorably to my expectations.

I think and hope that once circumstances are favorable, that they won't ever change. That's not very healthy, because things are going to change. I think and hope that life will work out according to my hopes and dreams. That's not very healthy either. Healthy I guess, is living the now. Planning the future as best we can. Dealing with the past as we have need. But really just living this moment, because this moment is all we have.

So I'm not saying "life is hard" anymore.

Creep Factor, Oh...About 12.

2009-05-27T13:30:00.004-10:00

My Brother Jeff suggested I check out a painting he came across recently. I Googled "Jesus Spanking" in anticipation of finding an image of Max Ernst's surrealist work, "The Blessed Virgin Chastising the Infant Jesus."

Google had many suggestions for me, of course, and I culled a couple examples for your enjoyment.

Max Ernst.
Jesus' halo has fallen to the ground, but Mary's is still firmly planted. I wonder about the three voyeurs, and the red top that Mary's wearing.

I remember reading something like this as a kid, I thought at the time that some missionary-type ought to tell those naughty babies in Darfur and Ethiopia that they don't have to suffer, they just have to repent.

Experiments with a New Camera, Part Two

2009-05-27T12:51:00.005-10:00

Lilikoi, or Passion Fruit on Ha'o Street Trail, Kaloko.

Yellow Plumeria in our backyard.

Pink Plumeria in our backyard.

A grasshopper at Bridgehouse Nursery.

Guest Blogger

2009-04-30T11:54:00.004-10:00

Ron won a creative writing contest, short story division, with the following story. The ending is a surprise, but not in the way I expected. One of the marks of a good story, I guess.

White Sandy Beaches

The linen sheets were white as snow, enveloping me like a cocoon. But a small part of me knew that this time I would not be able to break out and fly away. There was no wind to grace my wings, save for the stale air stirred around by the ceiling fan above my solitary bed. The steady creaking of the gears in the fan was enough to drive me up the wall, had I the energy to move. The window was closed, and the blinds were shut, and an eerie darkness crept through the small hospital ward. There was no escape. I was a bird with its wings clipped, or maybe I was just getting too old to use them to their full extent. Sweat dripped down my brow and I cursed the enclosed space I was trapped in. I needed fresh air, and I hated lying there, knowing my last few breaths of oxygen would be of the recycled air that had been floating still for the past twenty-four hours.

I heard footsteps behind the closed door. Maybe it’s the nurse coming to check on me, I thought. Go away. I closed my eyes, wishing to slip away into another reality, into a dream. Perhaps I could sink into a vacation where I was on a beautiful island in the Pacific, with white sandy beaches and water so clear it blended in with the indigo sky. Anywhere but here…

The footsteps were growing louder and moving more rapidly toward the door. I clenched my sheets in annoyance. Why can’t they just leave me in peace?

BOOM! The door banged open, revealing behind it a battered and charred hallway, blackened with ash. A soldier in a torn and bloody uniform clambered into the room, a red gash protruding from his right cheek down to his chin. Blood seeped from the wound, and he spit the crimson liquid and watched it splash upon the dusty wooden floor.

“Odell! Leave him, you’re not doing him any good!” He shouted. He glanced back to the door, as if expecting to see Hitler himself marching through the frame.

My eyes shifted downward and rested upon a pale face staring blankly through me with white glassy eyes. I felt tears spill from my bloodshot eyes, falling like the first few drops of a rain storm. I let go of the dead man’s tunic, which I had previously been clutching for dear life. My hands were red with blood, and I wiped them upon my pants with an astonished cry. I didn’t want to leave him. He was at boot camp with me, and had served as an excellent companion henceforth.

I could never get used to the idea of death, no matter how many times it stared me straight in the face. Life seemed way too fragile, and every life seemed too insignificant if it could just be put out like the small flame of a candle. Nothing seemed worth fighting for if we all end up meeting the same demise. Everyone dies alone, nobody can accompany us into the void.

“Odell! This place is gonna collapse. Let’s get the hell out!” I snapped back to reality, and unwillingly lifted my eyes away from the blank stare of Jimmy Conor, my brother in arms. I rose from the floor, and gazed again at my crimson palms. The meager meal I had consumed that morning churned loosely in my stomach. I wretched violently, but gathered myself, and reached for the arms of the fallen soldier at my feet.

“Dammit! Why do you always have to do this, man?” Asked Fallon, as he walked swiftly towards the corpse and bent down to grab the legs. “Hurry up, and be careful on the stairs.” We heaved the body up and made for the hallway. I could hear shouting in the distance, and gun shots echoing between the buildings in the street below. It was slow work because of the added weight of our guns, ammunition, and supplies, but we eventually made it down the stairs, and into the courtyard outside.

“Put him over there” I said grimly, nodding my head toward the side of a house where other corpses were strewn. We lugged the body to our designated location, and lied him down gently next to a lieutenant of about 35 years of age. Just another ripple in a sea of the dead…

I turned my back, trying not to dwell on the sight of my dead friends. Dead. Corpses seemed like just empty shells, crude mockeries of a human form. A good person might have lived behind its dead eyes, but it’s like you barely recognize him. The essence of what made him noble, honorable, a leader, a friend, was no longer there. I felt hot tears burn in my eyes, and I blinked, letting them spill down my face, their wake washing away the dirt and grime from my skin. I straightened my helmet, and turned back to Adam Fallon, who was searching the dead for dog tags.

Corporal Fallon was a replacement, who had replaced James McRoy on D-Day minus 4. There wasn’t much to tell about his appearance. He had black hair, standard military regulation cut, and green eyes that had quickly diminished to two dark haunted spheres sunken into a ghostly face. He was sensible, and reliable, but never made for good conversation or a mood lightener.

He took a cigarette from his pocket and struck a match with a trembling hand. At that moment a crash sounded from the building we had just evacuated, and the roof gave way. A thick, brown curtain of dust blocked the wrecked house and its surroundings from view as Fallon and I stared astonished at our previous location. Either God or pure luck was with us that day.

Out of unspoken consent, we did not discuss the soldiers and civilians who died on that fateful red evening. We trudged our way back to where the rest of our company was camped, and did our best to keep our minds from being overwhelmed by the ghosts of our former comrades by reading adventure novels and writing letters home. Every time I wrote the words “My Dear Natalie” on the worn page of my notebook, I could not help but fathom the thought that it might be the last time I would write them. Whatever daunting thoughts swam through my head however, I would write the letters as if I would see my beloved the very next day, as if I was merely on a vacation with some relatives, walking down white sandy beaches, wishing she was by my side.

*

I awoke the next morning, and cleared the sleep from my eyes with cold water from a battered clay pitcher. I rose from my cot, and stepped outside the tent, gazing wondrously at the ravaged and torn landscape before me. The French town was in complete ruins. Ash was strewn on the charred ground like dirt in the Sahara. It was difficult to discern which was a pile of rubble, and which was a ruined building.

I coughed as I inhaled ash, quickly turned my head out of the wind and shielded my dirty face with my hand. It didn’t matter if you smoked cigarettes or not, your lungs would eventually turn to blackened sacks of smoke. It wasn’t natural.

“Ahhh…beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!” I turned around and saw the leader of my platoon emerging from a tent. “Nothing beats a sunrise in France!”

I smiled, and turned my head back towards the east, admiring the bright yellow sun emerging from the distant hills. Purple and orange clouds gathered around the luminous sphere, enveloping it, but not blocking the immense rays. I was glad that even amidst all the chaos of war, that I could still appreciate beauty. The fact that it still even existed sent a grain of hope into my heart.

“June 12th, 1944. D-day plus…umm..”

“Six, sir.” I answered.

“Well, how ‘bout it?” It was a rhetorical question. I nodded slowly, still gazing eastward, trying to clear my mind of any impending doom, whether it be the thoughts of the past or future. “Pack up. We move out at 0700.”

“Yes sir.” I replied. The lieutenant walked back towards the command tent, where soldiers were bustling about like ants in a colony, all gathering ammunition and other necessities. First Lieutenant Dol Adams was my platoon leader. He led myself, and six others to victory in every battle since we had landed in Normandy; only two. He was an outstanding leader, whom all the men trusted. He was sarcastic and humorous, but could be intimidating if he wanted to be. He was a great man to have right at your side in the middle of a fight. He would charge as fast as he could, shouting swear words and egging us on, while still keeping a cool head and making sure we all got out alive. I didn’t think I would have made it half way up the beach if it wasn’t for him.

I walked back to my tent and gathered the rest of my belongings: an extra canteen, my compass, which was a gift from my father, and a small, rectangular, picture frame that seemed to tarnish the beauty of the picture inside. The picture was of me and my Natalie, my beloved, and betrothed. We were sitting on a tire swing in the front of my house; a moment of pure happiness and joy frozen in time. The frame was slowly falling apart and the picture was slowly fading, like the stars at dawn. I put it inside my pocket, and closed my eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink. How I longed to be near her once again.

I pushed my fiancé to the back of my mind (as difficult as that was), and walked out into the smoky, summer air.

“Morning Sunshine!” First Sergeant Jason Worth came marching up to me, his M1 Garand semi-automatic resting on his shoulder, and helmet lopsided on his head. He was unshaven, and would have normally been apprehended for his scruffiness, but under the conditions, our superiors didn’t really care. He had a thick Cuban cigar in his mouth, and the wispy gray smoke that protruded from it created a ghostly mask that covered his scarred face. “Did you get Conor outa that building yesterday?” He asked in his thick southern accent.

“Yeah, me and Fallon carried him out.” I answered, grimly.

“Good…Yeah, that’s good, man.” He stated. “He at least can rest without some building crushin’ him now. Hey man, you don’t look so good. Did you see Anson yesterday?” Richard Anson was our corpsman, our medic.

I shook my head. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round mirror, which he lifted in front of my face. I had not seen my reflection since before D-day. My face looked darker because of the smoke and ash constantly bombarding my skin every day, and my eyes seemed as if they would be bloodshot for the next five years. I also looked older, I could see it in my eyes; two glassy spheres, deeper and darker than I ever remember them being. A dark purple bruise covered my left eye, and a violent, red gash ran from my chin across the lower part of my cheek. I had not even felt it before. Emotional pain had far outstripped physical pain.

“You should probably get that checked out, man.” Suggested Worth, putting the mirror back in his pocket. I ran my fingers along the gash cautiously.

“Nah, it feels fine. Must not be that major. We’ll have more time later anyway.” I replied. “And man, why do you have a mirror?”

He was just about to respond, when a loud explosion sounded from the southern end of the camp. We instinctively ran towards the disturbance, Worth running slightly ahead of me, machine gun rounds bouncing on his bag. I straightened my helmet over my short black hair, and fastened it securely. A bunker was fifty feet ahead of us. We rushed toward it and dove head-first, landing on our knees and elbows. I leaned my back against the wall of the man-made trench, and loaded ammo into my gun. There were about twenty other soldiers scattered along the trench, all loading their guns and yelling into radios.

“What the hell is going on?!” I yelled at a soldier near by, who was kissing a silver cross necklace.

“Mortars!” He shouted.

I cursed our luck. “I thought these bastards gave up for now.” Gunfire erupted from beyond the trench and I saw dirt and mud spray over our heads.

“We can’t flank them?” Yelled Worth, peeking his head above the wall. I saw a small round object soar twenty feet to my left and land on the ground next to two soldiers, bouncing menacingly. I watched as if it were in slow motion.

“FIRE IN THE-!!!”

BOOM!!!

Now everything was in slow motion. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t smell, I couldn’t move. All I could hear was a loud ringing in my ears, and my heart throbbing like a bass drum being pounded double time. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins as I slowly opened my eyes. Corpses were strewn around me, a disembodied arm lay limply at my feet. I wanted to yell, but no air fueled my lungs. And then suddenly, out of the carnage, a white light began to grow, faint at first, but then brighter and brighter as it got closer to me.

I was dead. I knew it. The face and body emerging from the light could not be real. Surely, she was an angel, sent to walk me through the golden gates. She had the most beautiful face I had ever seen, or ever would see. Startling blue eyes, all-knowing, wise, and piercing, long brown wavy hair that flowed like water past her shoulders. She was not naked, but she was not clad in any discernable articles of clothing.

I raised a trembling hand to feel her skin, to see if it was real. The closer my hand got to her perfect face, the more she backed away. She beckoned, and confused, I followed. She began to glide swiftly out of the trench and I trotted obediently behind her. I felt pressure in my chest and a wetness spreading across my torso. I looked down and saw crimson liquid soaking my tunic, two bullet holes seemed to emerge from the red.

I did not feel the pain. I could still move, and move I did, ever closer to the angel, to my beloved, my betrothed, my Natalie…

*

The creaking of the fan was beginning to get even more monotonous as I lie there, smelling the stale air of a hospital, the smell I despised so much. A soft beeping had joined the creaking of the ceiling fan, and I looked around at the monitor to the left of my bed. The beeping was repeating slower than the creaking, and I gazed observantly at the thin red line that rose and fell over and over again. It began to slow more rapidly, and I could feel my lungs slowly getting tired. I inhaled and exhaled, noticing how much energy it took.

*

I followed aimlessly, guided by the light, by her beauty. She was getting further and further away. Soon, I would not be able to reach her. What would I do then? How would I survive?
Then, as sudden as she had come, she disappeared. I cried out in despair, and fell to my knees. Pain tore through my body as the bullets’ impact took effect. No… I thought. I cannot die. Not now… Natalie’s face was still etched vividly in my mind. Not now…

*

People were gathered around my bed, panicking people garbed in white, with white masks, and white eyes. Their loud voices were muffled to me, and from their midst appeared my angel. My angel, out of the darkness, my Natalie. She was as beautiful as ever. Twenty-one, and infinite in youth. She had the eyes I had more recently come to know before she died; the eyes of a seventy-five year old woman, wise and strong as an ancient tree.

I missed you. I said to her.

I have never left you. She replied.

I could hear the beeping of the monitor growing fainter and fainter, and Natalie took my pale, wrinkled hand in hers. Warmth spread through my body like hot chocolate on a cold winter night.

Welcome home… She whispered. I saw the wedding ring on her finger that had never left since our wedding day. She pulled me out of the bed, and we walked out of the room. I was not breathing anymore. Breathing wasn’t important. The only thing that was important was my love for her.

I could feel sand between my toes, and hear the waves crashing on the beach. Maybe… I thought, as I gazed affectionately at my wife. Maybe death…is not so bad.

2009-04-28T07:58:00.002-10:00

Last night, on the spur of the moment, we went up to our friends Jim and Ann's for supper. I was not in the mood to socialize, having had the dinner from hell just the week before with relatives and being a bit depressed (or grieving) over the decline of the shop, economically. As is usually the case with situations like this, the evening was just what was needed..

I like to try to steer the conversation around to things of a more spiritual nature when we're getting to know new friends. I'm curious what underpins a person's life philosophegusly-wise. It's a lot of fun to see the different ways people deal with the central issues of living which I've distilled into "dealing with the past; not worrying about the future; living abundantly now." (That's another blog, I guess).

We come from very different backgrounds, Jim, Ann, Sarah and me. It was fascinating to see how choices we made in life years ago brought us together at this place and time. We found that we can speak the same language, and communicate without drawing blank stares or arguments from the listener. For instance when I was relating how I discovered the Tao de Ching at exactly the right point in my continuing spiritual quest, Ann actually got chills. I've been there before too. We also share a love for the desert, for gardening, for music and guitars, for dogs.

Anyway, more later, maybe. I'm including a picture they took of Sting wearing a beanie that Sarah knitted for him. Cool picture, I think.

Funny Stuff

2009-04-22T09:55:00.001-10:00

Funny stuff from my nephew Travis' home page.

Playing With a New Camera

2009-04-21T13:20:00.005-10:00

I traded an airplane model to a buddy of mine for a Nikon D200 camera and a Nikon 28-105mm lens. Fun to be able to barter. Here are the first pictures from the new set-up. I think I'm going to like it once I figure it out.

The sun was already down, and I thought it was way too dark to take a picture. I messed with the White Balance and "ISO" settings and am pleased with the light.

"Now?"

"Heh, heh...you heard that?"

It's a flower.

Well Bless Your Heart

2009-03-20T14:17:00.005-10:00

A note on my friend Rick's home page made me think about the phrase I hear fairly often, though not as much as I used to: "Bless your heart..."

As in: "Well bless your heart, that must have been terrible!"

"She's as smart as a bag of hammers, bless her heart."

Or yet again,

"Your mother is a whore that sleeps around, bless your heart." (Well, maybe not that one).

This one for sure, though:

Little Davy: "I am six years old." (Holds up four fingers) .

Aunt Vae: "Oh honey, bless your heart, but that's only four fingers."

Little Davy tries again: "I am six years old." (This time holds up the same four fingers and four more on the other hand)

Aunt Vae: "Child....Bless you and your momma's heart."

Music, Photos, and A Roadtrip

2009-03-17T16:24:00.012-10:00

Yesterday my friend Tag and I took a trip up the coast to scope out flying sites for our RC Slope Soaring passion. We ended up at a favorite spot called Pololu Overlook. It's literally at the end of the road at the top of the island. The flying site, as you can see, is stunning. It's enough to simply sit and watch the waves, but when you add a couple beautiful gliders and a good friend it becomes magical.

To launch the glider you stand in a meadow, not a cliff to be seen except on the opposite canyon. You throw the glider as hard and far as you can and pray like crazy that it reaches the tree that marks the lift line, before it runs out of momentum and falls somewhere in the jungle.

We flew and chatted for over three hours and would have stayed longer except that an HFD helicopter arrived for a rescue in the riptides below us.

On another subject: I uploaded a new song: "Steve's Blues," on the Tioli Art and Music Page. This a chord progression that Steve's guitar teacher showed him back in 87. "Don't ever play the blues," his teacher said, "but if you have to, play it like this..."

The launch area

Pololu Overlook, behind and to the right of the launch area.

Tag and his new girlfriend, Adriana.

Yes, a real snow cat!

The launch.

Prayer and...

...body english

Adjustments.

Alula, a very small foam glider. Very bird-like.

On the fast fly-bys the Adriana screams just like a Tie-Fighter from Star Wars (maybe not that loudly, though).

Looking for a couple swimmers lost in a riptide.

Our launch site.

We beat a quick retreat.

Sarah Palin and Thai Food

2009-02-17T15:11:00.002-10:00

On Sunday we went out to eat with two couples that I've mentioned before here and there. I was very nervous before and probably during. Thing is, even though I feel fine about who I am and what I do, I still am not comfortable socializing with rich folk.

For instance, they talked, quite naturally, of quizzing Warren Buffet on what was going on in the economy and what might happen next (Buffet's words of wisdom were: "heck if I know"). And they talked about Madoff and how they had friends that lost a bunch in that scheme. And they talked about a friend who lost everything except her twenty million dollar condo and how, while she might be able to sell it for half or a quarter of its value, they didn't know how she'd make it. I didn't have much to say, but I didn't mind sitting back and listening. I enjoy that in a group.

They tried to include me but I live in a different world and the attempts fell flat. They asked how Kona was doing in the economy and didn't believe me, or like it, when I said "steady on." Fact is, that's all any of us can do about anything.

One really funny thing, though it probably won't make it in print: One of the guys stood up right as we were leaving and bellowed "Sarah Palin." It was like he had Tourett's Syndrome or something. The restaurant got deathly quiet as everyone stopped to hear what he would say...but nothing else came out. We all paused, half rising to leave, and finally someone said, "okay then, well...there it is." And we left.

Experimenting with Facebook

2009-02-04T14:47:00.002-10:00

I've been playing a bit with Facebook. I wasn't interested, at first, in learning a new system...but it snags you and after you connect with people you're stuck. Today I set up a page to share music, art and writing. Here's a link:

Tioli Art and Music

Facebook is a bit of a mystery. I lay awake last night trying to understand it. I think there's a clue in realizing that Facebook is made up of two words: Facebo and Ok. I understand the Ok bit, but the Facebo I don't. It's a mystery and I guess that's why Facebook is too.

Anyway, check out the link, I don't know if you have to be a member to view it, but it's easy to sign up and then they'll get you too.

What Gordon Said to the Drunk Guy Walking in the Middle of the Road on the San Carlos Rez in 1980

2009-01-25T10:53:00.006-10:00

Over breakfast this morning I learned that Gordon died while I was sleeping. I finished my tea and went out to finish a chore. I've been working on my truck's transmission for a week and it needed a final bit of attention. Later I took it out for a long drive south past Kealakekua Bay and down Middle Keei Road. I listened to Andrea's Mix on my iPod.

When I got home I went for a bicycle ride. Longer than normal, up the hill to the top of Walua, then onto the highway all the way to Kainaliu. I turned around at Keauhou Mauka and hit 50 on the way back down the hill. Then I took a shower and grabbed some lunch.

This afternoon I cleaned the house and did the wash, listened to Coldplay on the iPod. Later we went to a party at the home of Sting's Videographer. I had too much to drink and Mrs. T had to drive us home.

I climbed into bed and realized, as I drifted off, that there is a lot that only I know, now.

A Different Kind of President

2009-01-22T12:51:00.003-10:00

I did a search for "what's on Obama's IPod." More interesting than what IS on Obama's IPod was that I took it for granted that he HAS an IPod. It never entered my mind to do a search on what's on Bush's IPod.

Dave Bigelow

2009-01-18T19:56:00.008-10:00

I found out this evening that our friend and flying companion, Dave Bigelow died in the crash of his DG-400 on Friday. He had set out from Waimea (Mauna Kea Soaring Club) to attempt to break his own altitude record (Hawaii State). He failed to return and a search spotted the remains of his glider on Mauna Loa but they were unable to get to the site until this afternoon. A resident near the crash site reported a large foam and fiberglass chunk of something had landed in his yard about the time of Dave's disappearance.

Here's a picture of Sherman on the left, John Mitchell in the center, and Dave flying RC gliders at Dave's place on Waikii Ranch.

And this is Dave, in the glider, being congratulated by Woody Woods, after Dave's record setting flight of 33,531 feet in April 2008.

There's some cool in cockpit footage of that flight here:

Learning to Text

2009-01-15T15:36:00.004-10:00

Sarah and I got new cell phones the other day. We picked up a matching set of Sony Ericsson W350's. They're tiny. I decided I'd make the effort to learn texting. It's been fun so far, the software on the phone makes it easy because, as everyone but me has known for years, it spells the word as you thumb and makes a good guess as to what you're trying to say. The dictionary is very complete.

Anyway, I've figured out that I can harass the kids when they're at school. I used to call occasionally, but that never works, because they don't answer voice calls in class. They do answer text messages in class. So I've been sending them messages of hope and cheer and fatherly advice. For instance, today I sent this message:

"Fatherly advice: Try to live your life as a dog would. If you can't eat it or play with it, then pee on it and walk away."

The other day I wrote:

"Fatherly advice: Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way if they get mad, you'll be a mile away and you'll have their shoes."

My daughter's favorite so far is this:

"Fatherly advice: If you're invited to your first orgy, don't just show up nude. That's a common newbie mistake. Nudity has to happen."

Her friends said, "your dad wrote that?!?" She said, "He probably found it on the internet, or something." Which is true, I get most of my wisdom from the internet. It makes me sound old and wise and full of experience without the pain of actually having to learn any real life lessons.

Hannibal Lector, Amadeus, and Christmas in Hilo

2008-12-27T17:05:00.008-10:00

We closed the shop early on Wednesday and drove to Waikaloa to pick up the kids. They had been at Cynth-and-Cindy's for a Christmas Eve party and gift exchange. Andrea drove most of the way to Hilo in a light rain and on unfamiliar twisty roads.

At the folk's house we took a little nap, then visited a bit until Dick directed us to a huge pile of gifts into which two hours of labor barely made a dent. After a light supper it was back to the salt mines. The gifts ranged from ant bait (Terro brand, which is dang good stuff) to plastic flyswatters, to books (I got a biography of John Adams, which I'll enjoy), CD's and movies ("Bond, James Bond," and "Saving Ryan's Privates", for me). The highlight as far as I was concerned was a so-hideous-it's-chic bobble head of a mother tiger and six cubs, (that makes seven bobble heads for those of you counting along in Minnesota).

At the party were Mrs. T's mom and dad, her brother and sister-in-law, and her sister-in-law's mother Ilahbelle, the giver of the tiger bobble head. She took a real shine to our daughter (15) and they chatted and joked the rest of the evening. I'll indlude a video featuring Ilahbelle below.

We went to sleep to the sound of Coqui Frogs and falling rain, which is nice once in a while. I slept terribly, though and woke up tired and subdued. Christmas morning, we opened another bunch of gifts laid out in the suggestion of a stocking. Flashlights were a featured item, as were various things to eat, including a tin of green chilis (received by Mrs. T), and a tin of smoked oysters (Petensandy). I didn't get any food items, but I did get a nice selection of variously sized clamps.

We had prime rib for dinner, and left soon after, getting away around 5:00 PM in a heavy rain storm. Andrea drove again and did a great job in challenging conditions. She had made a mix of music on three CD's for me as part of my gift. I'll post a playlist sometime, but it was really amazing music. Let's see: Caedus Fly; Thrice; Switchfoot; Explosions in the Sky; Dustin Kensrue, and Muse are some I remember. It was perfect driving music. When I got home and prepared it for my I-Pod, I found that only eliminated five songs from the mix. That's out of a total of 44. The songs I removed were by Led Zepplin, The Beatles, and Pink Floyd. I like all the songs, they just have different associations for me, that didn't go with the mix.

Another impressive thing for us was watching our teens (17 and 15) interacting in a more formal setting. I expected them (in so far as I thought about it at all), to go off into their corners and read and listen to music, at most I would expect them to sit quietly and awkwardly as I would have done at their age. They didn't do either though, they were witty and funny, contributed to the conversation where appropriate, ooed and ahhed over their gifts and were more than grateful for everything they were offered.

If you watch from about 1:50 to 3:58 you can get an idea of Ilahbelle from Constanza's mother.

Waiting for the Tioli's Bailout Check

2008-12-23T17:12:00.004-10:00

On my sister's blog she has a post entitled "Passing on the Joy," which I first took as "Taking a pass on the joy." I don't much like Christmas, and this one has been more challenging than most stress-wise.

Besides what I've already written about in previous posts, we've had economic difficulties to contend with. Our sales for the year are down almost 20%. Doesn't sound too bad till you figure that amounts to over $132,000.00. (We're down $13,000 just for the month of December so far). For a mom-and-pop-shop, that's a lot of bill paying power that we've had to do without, to the dismay of our creditors.

Some of the creditors are making appropriate adjustments to our accounts, extending terms, going interest-only, and so forth. Others are quite a bit less understanding, threatening all manner of legal action and leg breaking (well, maybe not leg breaking). It's stressful to talk to the well trained collectors, they know all the answers. We default to: "We're trying to stay out of bankruptcy, if you push, we'll go down and you get nothing, if you're patient, you'll get paid."

So you might be expecting us to take a pass on the joy. We're not though. We're happy and grateful. We've risked everything we own, all our savings, our house, our cars, our investments. Worse case scenario: We lose all our stuff and have to start over. We get to keep the things that really matter, though, not to put too Pollyannaish a spin on it all. And that's enough. And besides, when you're okay with the worst case, what can anybody do to you?

Update on Mrs. T.

2008-12-20T16:44:00.001-10:00

I'm sure she'll blog a bit about this, but we didn't find out anything. The Cardiologist who mainly sees old men, found nothing in her heart that reminded him of an old man, so he sent her home. This, of course, is not what we need to hear.

Yet More December from Heck...

2008-12-16T17:28:00.002-10:00

On Friday, before I got my centipede bite, Mrs. T had her own difficulties, these a little more serious. She had chest pains, beyond what she's had most of her life, and shortness of breath. We called House Calls Hawaii to come to the shop instead of risking an ER trip. The house calls doc gave her an ECG, which was abnormal, and a nitro pill, which immediately helped (usually not a good sign). The doc called an ambulance for her and she went to the ER. After just a couple of hours, she was released with an all clear, but with a stress scheduled for Monday (yesterday). The stress test showed a problem, with the lower part of her heart.

Today she got a call from the doctor with the results of an ultrasound. The doc said it's not good. There is a problem with an artery at the back of her heart that feeds the bottom of the heart. The tests show ischemia in that area. She'll go to a cardiologist on Friday on Oahu, and he will do an angiogram. If necessary, he will put in a stent while she's there. The doc told her to get a one-way ticket to Oahu! We knew that she meant for us to do so because we don't know how long she'll need to be there, but it sure sounded terrible.

So that's that. We'll know more this weekend.

She's had these pains off and on for most of her adult life, but has never had a doctor take her seriously. They've all laughed it off as anxiety. This time, she was insistent that something was wrong, and with a little testing they found it.

The December from Heck Continues...

2008-12-16T09:47:00.003-10:00

Last Friday I had just gotten home from work after a tiring day which included a house call doctor at the shop and an ambulance ride for Mrs. T. I kicked off my slippers (thongs, or sandals) and walked into the house to greet the kids. A few minutes later I walked back out on the lanai, slipped on my slippers and walked out to the car. I immediately felt a very sharp pain in the top of my foot. I looked down and saw, slithering away, a very large brown centipede. I made a leap at it and tried to crush it in revenge, but we were on the front lawn, and he got away. We don't have snakes in Hawaii, but we do have the tropical equivalent: Centipedes. We have little blue ones that pack a punch and large (four to six inches) brown ones that aren't quite so venomous. I got one of the big ones.

Now, for those of you who haven't been bitten by a centipede...hmmm how could I describe it? It's like a very bad bee sting, or wasp sting, or a burn from a cigarette. If it happens at night, you can kiss your sleep goodbye. If it happens during the day, you might as well call in sick.

I ran to the bathroom, washed my foot, stopped the bleeding, took a Benadryl and slathered the foot with antihistamine lotion. Over the next two days it became clear that I had at least three bites, and maybe more. The fang marks are a full 1/2" apart--that's a big mouth! My foot swelled to where I couldn't bend the ankle or the toes and blisters formed, broke, crusted over and formed again. It was pretty hideous. The swelling stopped about halfway up my calf, and for at least a day, I didn't have much feeling in the foot, other than at the wound site. Just about the time we were talking about another trip to the doctor, this time for me, the swelling started to go down and the itching and burning abated.

The best part about this whole experience was showing off the foot at the height of the swelling. On Sunday, the worst day, our house was full of teenage girls and I had good fun with the leperous limb.

Pictures of Gordon for Kathy

2008-12-09T13:26:00.003-10:00

December 2000, Open Door Fellowship Christmas Play. Gordon was on keyboards.

Best man at my wedding, and no, I did not razor out Cynth! (I guess she did).

As the groom in his wedding with Millie.

My Friend Gordon

2008-12-04T10:48:00.003-10:00

I got a note from his wife, Kathy:

On November 3, Gordon was diagnosed with a stage four malignant brain tumor. They can't remove it surgically because it's in the frontal left lobe. They could give him chemo/radiation but that would only buy him a couple of months & in that time he would be sick and in and out of hospitals. So we decided to just come home and live his remaining weeks in peace.

Physically he is okay, just weak & tires easily. He remembers people & things of the past but his short term memory isn't good. He's also easily confused. He has "expressive aphaysia" so although he knows what he wants to say, is usually unable to do so. So he's unable to have any meaningful conversation.
We just thought you should know his situation. you could call him but as I said, he's not much of a conversationalist these days.

Later she sent a bit more information:

I mentioned both the "Rebar Emporium" & the weekend you recalled. It brought a pretty big smile to his face & a good chuckle. He's spoken quite often, & with great fondness, of the trip to Hawaii. In fact, the plant he brought back with him has flourished, which always amazes him considering this is Phoenix. He stopped watering it when he got home from the hospital. When I asked why, he said that he said his goodbye, he's ready to let go. But I told him that I'm going to keep it going so I water it.

I took him to the emergency room because I thought he was having a stroke or something. Looking back on things, he was becoming forgetful, depressed. I thought it was just because he's been out of work & at home by himself most of the day. The clincher though came when he was to meet Joe & Larry Farrar for lunch & he never made it. He went to the wrong restaurant & didn't know why. He was VERY confused at that point & unable to communicate clearly . (that was the expressive aphasia)

Took him to the E.R. where they did scans & MRI's & admitted him. Next thing we know, he's having a biopsy. I thought "no big deal" whatever it is, they'll treat it, remove it. Hey, this is the 21st century after all. Oh well, I guess, God has other plans.

As far as the future goes, no one can say exactly how long he'll be with us. Maybe thru Christmas & the New Year. And everything just depends on how the tumor decides to move & grow. So we just live day to day. Every day he's a little less Gordon. His legs are very weak so if we go out, he's in a wheelchair for going any good distance.

He can't say much & sometimes he'll say off the wall things (but as Joe said "How would you know what's abnormal for Gordon?")

The Deplorable State of the Public Schools

2008-11-25T14:56:00.010-10:00

There's a great post on College at 50, today. It niggled in my mind that I had maybe heard something like this before. After some Googling I found the very passage.

"All this takes place before the speaking begins; after the teacher has entered upon his declamation and begun to speak, then the students keep up a constant signaling back and forth about drivers and mimes and horses and dancers, and about this or that battle that has taken place or is to take place.

Further, some stand like statues, with one arm thrown over the other, while others delve in their noses with both hands at once; (Does that mean what I think it means?) still others sit without moving a muscle, notwithstanding all the brilliant points that I make, or forcibly detain in their seats those who have been moved by my words. Some count those who come in after them, while others find it sufficient to gaze at the leaves, or are better pleased to chatter over chance subjects than to listen to the speaker.

Surpassing all this in audacity is the act of those who interrupt genuine applause with spurious, choke the voice of enthusiasm at its source, and parade through the whole theater, withdrawing from the lecture all whom they can influence, either by false messages or by invitations to come and bathe before breakfast — this also being an extravagance on which some spend their money. . . . "

It's from the writings of Libanius, the 4th Century Athenian Sophist.

Becky reminds us that the scene is the same, only today the students are texting each other.

And another Snippet:

“…(students) squander the precious resources of their fathers on wine, gaming, expensive dining and other entertainment. (They) refused to attend classes, and when they did attend, laughed loudly and inappropriately and chatted with their fellows during the lectures. “

Students formed gangs that engaged in frequent street battles with supporters of rival professors. “Their rioting and carousing sometimes engulfed the whole city. How the Athenians must have hated them! Imagine the disrepute that attached itself to the name scholastikos!”

The book can be further plagiarized by directing your browser to: The Universities of Ancient Greece.

Making Music

2008-11-18T14:17:00.006-10:00

I was reminded recently of a conversation that my brother and brother-in-law had on the way to ski at Purgatory (Now Durango Mountain, I guess) in 1977. I remember where we were, even. Greg was driving, Rob was in the front passenger seat, Doyle and I in the back. We were just passing Mancos, which is strange, because we usually went through Farmington.

Doyle and Rob were talking about music, and Rob said something like "In the future, computers will make the music." As a musician, I didn't like the sound of that. Doyle said, "Yes, but they'll still need musicians to program the computers."

I thought of this when I put together the attached musical snippet. It isn't much, and it isn't finished by any means, but it shows what can be done with a computer and some sound files. The piece has an Alan Parson's Project feel to me, and is built up from little snippets of music recorded by other people and arranged and modified by me. The piano part, for instance, was heavily modified sound-wise, and sped up. The main string section is a repeating, two measure phrase that has a command to change the pitch when I want a new chord. The drum section is two repeating measures of different patterns. I could add drum fills and percussion, but I lost interest.

The photos are of the program, called Cakewalk Sonar. It's what I use to do all my recording, but usually I'm playing the instruments. I found the exercise interesting, but not that pleasing. I realize there's nothing any more "cheating" about making music like this than a composer using musicians, or a director editing a completed film, but I still don't find it that satisfying.

Rain

2008-11-18T11:56:00.002-10:00

It's raining again. As often as it rains here, I'm never tired of it. I guess that comes from growing up in the desert. I love the sound, the smell, the coolness. One thing about rain here that took me by surprise is that you can be out in it and not get cold. That was so strange for me when I first experienced it. I was used to being chilled to the bone in New Mexico when it would rain, even in the summer.

The End of Democracy

2008-11-18T10:47:00.004-10:00

An older white gentleman we know, (together with other white males), has said that as a result of Obama's election our democracy is over. What I thought he meant is that Obama is going to ruin the country, socialize it, or fascisize it, or something.

Today he sent a link Grassfire . When I went to it I saw that the organization is recruiting, via an online petition, a resistance movement. I realize now that what he means by the end of democracy, is that he and those that think like him will try to subvert the democratically elected president. He isn't advocating using the political process anymore, since that failed him, now instead of getting behind the new president, he will do all he can to spread dissent and fear.

We were perfectly willing to throw in with whomever won the election. That is what democracy is, after all. I'm sorry that some conservatives are so afraid of yet another white president that they're declaring war.

Veteran's Day, 2008

2008-11-11T10:08:00.002-10:00

Chad , a student of ours in Maxwell, is one of the 1007 American soldiers that have died in Afghanistan. In addition to those that have been killed in Afghanistan, 4193 have died in Iraq. There have been over 30,000 wounded in Iraq alone since the beginning of the war.

There is, of course, no official count of Iraqi military and civilian deaths but the most recent estimate puts the number at 1,284,105.

I would like to see an end to these senseless wars. I think we can accomplish that with a new president.

Took The Plunge

2008-11-04T14:49:00.003-10:00

Yeah, I took the plunge and voted this morning. I ended up voting for Obama. Not so much because I think he has the better character, or because he seems to be the better leader, or because I like his platform. And I did struggle with voting for a black man, given the racist that I am, but was able to get by that by voting for his white half. In the final analysis, I voted for Obama because there is no way I'm going to vote for a man whose last name rhymes with Hussein.

What's done is done, we'll see if this brings on the apocalypse.

Video from Brother Rob

2008-10-30T08:51:00.000-10:00

This came in response to my previous post that I might not vote!

Tim and Josie go to the Big Island

2008-10-26T12:31:00.005-10:00

My cousin Tim and his wife Josie are on the Big Island this week celebrating their 19th anniversary. They came to the shop yesterday and we visited a bit, then in the evening we drove up to Kawaihae and had dinner at the Blue Dragon. The Olliephonics, an olde style Big Band was playing, Joe Mackee was the designated crooner. (Joe's sister is a local painter and a former Playboy Playmate). A good time was had by all.

Tao de Ching, Chapter 11

2008-10-23T17:12:00.000-10:00

We join spokes together in a wheel,
but it is the center hole
that makes the wagon move.

We shape clay into a pot,
but it is the emptiness inside
that holds whatever we want.

We hammer wood for a house,
but it is the inner space
that makes it livable.

We work with being,
but non-being is what we use.

2008 World Submarine Federation Championships

2008-10-17T09:27:00.004-10:00

Start of the Women's Race

Nearly halfway through

Photo Finish!

Amazing Technology

That's Sean Connery in the Pace Sub.

The men's race was not quite so close
(I guess I didn't really need to point that out, eh?).

Ironman Race Day Pictures

2008-10-12T12:56:00.017-10:00

A found picture of the start of the race. Looks like fun, eh?

The end of the swim.

I was amazed at how fast these guys moved. Part of the security involves scuba divers beneath the swimmers to ward off sharks attracted by the splashing of athletes.

Following the men's leaders. The motorcycle had to hit the brakes hard to make the turn, they must have been doing at least 40, before the corner.

One's, a pro, one's an amateur. The pro came in seven minutes quicker after nine hours of racing. I was impressed and awed by how fast the pros go on their bikes. I could relate to the speed of the amateurs, but these guys were so much faster it was mind-boggling.

This is Sergio Marques. More on him later.

This is Gina Ferguson, from New Zealand. She was one of the stories that the media was following because she plays First Violin with the Queensland Symphony Orchestra. She finished 8th in the Women's Pro Division, 9:36.

Sergio, again. He came down the hill and around the corner and flatted. After he replaced the tube, he blew out the new one while inflating. He threw a bit of tantrum and had to wait nearly 10 minutes for the tech crew to come along and give him a new tire. He still finished half way through his division.

Amazing Technology

There's no special category for this guy, he has to compete with those with two legs.

Halfway through the last event, the 26.2 mile marathon.

Hans Koeppen, winner of the PC category (Physically Challenged).

I was surprised to see chicken broth and rolls to hand out.

Chrissie Wellington, the winner of the women's pro division. She won $70,000.00! This is one race where they don't award a smaller sum to the women's winner.

Grit. This is Zbynek Svehla, a financial adviser from the Czech Republic. He was a Triathlete in his previous life, crashed and broke his back. Now he's back for his first Ironman as a parapalegic. He finished in 13 hours, not nearly the last person in.

Julian Wain, halfway through the marathon.

Lots of action.

Official Ironman Website

Ironman World Championship: The Day Before

2008-10-11T11:30:00.009-10:00

Every year in October the Ironman World Championship race is held in Kona. The race involves 1800 participants that swim 2.4 miles, bike 112 miles and run a regular 26.2 mile marathon, all on the same day. There are several classes of professionals--they're the only ones that'll be paid--and several age group classes for the amateurs. The race entrants are from all over the world and most bring their families and supporters.

During the week before the race, Ali'i Drive shuts down to allow for setup of the facilities, and for booths that show new wares. The roads clog up with traffic due to the shut down of the major artery, and the addition on the roads of training athletes.

The race brings some benefit to the community. For a week at least, all occupancy rates are at or above 100%. The grocery stores do a brisk business, as does the brewery, and some restaurants. I'm not sure the benefit is worth the hassle though. The bike riders often ride three or four abreast, right in the middle of a lane, blocking traffic and putting pedestrians in jeopardy. I also don't like the prima donna attitudes. The excitement is fun, though. Fun to be around something big for a couple days.

Captions are beneath the pictures.

The swim course.

The last bit of the run to the finish.

Near the end of the race under the banyon tree.

The backside of the finish line. They have constant commentary and music playing.

The start of the 2.4 mile swim.

You just know he's gotta be a famous athlete.

This is a CV-L (Compensatory Vehicle-Large). There are many kinds and sizes of compensatory vehicles. This one drove up and a very small, very studly man hopped out and swaggered away.

Looking back towards the pier where the start/finish line is.

Extra security for the harbor and bay.

Acres of bicycles, over 1800 of them. They wait on the pier for the end of the swim. The white tent in the background is an area to change in if you don't want to wear your wetsuit on the 112 mile bike ride.

Gotsta remember your number so you knows where your bike stay.

Shop Talk and Random Political Thoughts

2008-10-05T15:12:00.012-10:00

So, I was talking to a customer, a regular, today. His construction business has tanked and he's working at the hardware store now and doing pick-up work as he can get it. He made the comment that this is the most important election of his life because of the economy. I sounded him out about who he might vote for. He's a republican through and through. I said, "So you don't really believe the president has that much to do with the economy?"

"Hell yes, he does, what are you thinking." Big D responded.
"Then our present economic issues are due to President Bush's policies of the last few years?"
"Well uh...that was the democrats' fault."
"Doesn't it make sense to try someone with some new ideas instead of a clone of the guy that got you into this? And a guy that didn't believe we had a problem at all until it was universally obvious?"

We talked a little about McCain's late admission that, well yes, maybe we DO have an economic problem...But Big D still didn't seem willing to entertain the idea that a non-republican might be the better choice.

I'm interested in this election, too. I've been so sick of politics since working in the education system, that I haven't voted in years. I didn't even vote when I was a superintendent, which is a grave, if not mortal sin. This election has interested me, though, because of Obama. I started out very suspicious, I guess because he's half-white, and he has a funny name. In my research to ascertain the validity (or not) of the emails that were circulating about his muslim/terrorist leanings, I started to like the guy. A few hours on YouTube watching and listening to his speeches and interviews solidified it for me. (I think it was his "Call to Renewal" speech that was the clincher).

Random thoughts:

--Palin is interesting too. I think it's the folksy way she talks my language ("you guys," "ummm,"). The thing is, I don't want someone like me running the country. I want somebody considerably smarter. I like that Obama is from the "elite." I like that he's highly educated and has lived abroad.

--McCain's temper and his inability to control his mouth when he's mad worries me.
--McCain's suspension of his campaign to address the "economic crisis" bothered me as well. Won't the President be called on to address many different problems at once. (Dare I say "multi-task)?

Anyway, I may not vote in this election either for two reasons. First, since Hawaii will be going to the polls just two hours before the east coast polls close, the thing may be moot before we get the chance to have our say. And second, I like being able to say to people that are aghast that I don't exercise the MOST IMPORTANT DUTY OF A CITIZEN OF THE UNITED STATES, that no, I think the most important duty of a citizen of the United States is to do unto others as I would have them do unto me, and to love my neighbor as myself...And that if we all really acted on Jesus' words we wouldn't always be up some ten foot creek without a pole to stand on.

I suppose I could do both though, eh?

Note to self

2008-10-02T09:42:00.002-10:00

Fill your bowl to the brim
and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife
and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security
and your heart will never unclench.
Care about people's approval
and you will be their prisoner.

Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.

Kaloko Walk

2008-09-29T18:28:00.009-10:00

I was going to write about how things are going in our family. Sort of a "State of the Family," address. I would mention that our eldest has a job, albeit part time, for the first time in six months (due to the economy, his police record, his lack of a GED, and his marijuana use). At least he isn't in jail, I'd add, though that may change in mid October--he has a fine he can't pay. And I'd mention that our number two son is going to Family Court tomorrow for a preliminary hearing on an incident involving a broken laptop at school. And I'd talk a bit about how, at the shop, our sales are down over 50% in the last six months, and that we're concerned about losing it all. And how our neighbors foiled an attempted break in at the shop. And how someone stole our daughter's Interact Club donations jar that sat on our counter and that was to benefit an orphange in India. And I'd mention that we're happier and healthier than we've ever been, and just a little scared.

But, heck, it's my day off, so I decided to take a walk instead of blogging. Jack and I went up mauka (mountain) to a favorite hike through the jungle. It's the Ha'o trail just off Kaloko Drive. My reader in Minnesota will remember that stroll. In Hawaii if you're hot you go up slope, if you're cold you come down. We were hot and the weather at 2500 feet was perfect.

The airport and the Natural Energy Lab.

It's Ginger

The end of the trail. Over an hour in.

2008-09-13T16:42:00.022-10:00

Our daughter Andrea has been experimenting with photography. She took a class in school where she learned the basics of composition, how to use the camera, darkroom techniques and Photoshop techniques. Today she went with her brother and three of their friends up to Waimea to take casual Senior Pictures. I think the results are outstanding. I love Andy's sense of composition and story. These photos are all raw shots, no touch up has been done yet, though she plans on doing some Photoshopping.

That's the photographer on the left.

Byron

2008-08-24T19:42:00.002-10:00

Some of Ron's music. Check out "Cavemen Building Houses." And his latest: "Let the Willow Weep."

Have you checked this out?

2008-08-22T16:49:00.001-10:00

S. Charles; New American English Dictionary.

Found a Picture

2008-08-05T13:41:00.005-10:00

I love it when I come across long forgotten pictures. This one is from 2004, so Andrea was 11 and Ron 13. This was on Kauai at Waimea Canyon on Kauai. I love Ron's expression and the suave hands-in-pockets stance.

Mental Health Outsourcing

2008-07-30T09:49:00.003-10:00

Many of the readers of this blog will remember that I quit the DOE as an alternative to suicide. That's when we opened Tioli's. Well things have been so slow at work that I'm all depressed again. I was so depressed last night that I called Lifeline. I got a call center in Pakistan. I told them I was suicidal. They got all excited and asked if I could drive a truck.

I can't catch a break.

Another little talk with Jesus

2008-07-17T08:38:00.005-10:00

My daughter and I have been having conversations about religion and spirituality and christianity whenever we're together for longer than a few minutes. She recently expressed surprise at my admission that I regularly pray. "Why not?" I responded, "Prayer works." We talked a bit about what I mean by "works," but the bottom line is I see things differently when I pray. Here's an example:

First the Background: My two readers will remember that I worked for the Hawaii Department of Education from 2002 to 2005 when we first moved here. I started as the Complex Manager for the School Based Behavioral Health System in Kahuku on Oahu. After eight months (only five of which I was regularly paid) the DOE changed the qualifications for managers, and I was no longer qualified. I moved to a Vice Principal position and began the DOPE (Department of Public Education) administrator prep course even though I was a licensed administrator with years of experience. I received my certificates and was duly licensed as a professional administrator in Hawaii. I up and quit in 2005 as an alternative to suicide.

Second, the context: Things have been slow at the shop and we're at the point where I would like to find a second job to pay off some bills and save some working capital. Of course I pray about finding the right job and having the right attitude and being willing to work hard...

Third, the story: So I called the DOE to see about coming back to the schools since they pay reasonably well. I was told that I would have to apply as a mainlander and go to the bottom of the priority list. Well whatever. I applied and included my license from the state and my sealed transcripts, and my proofs of employment.

Yesterday I received a rejection letter stating that I wasn't qualified to be an administrator in Hawaii. They have no record of me ever having worked for them. They have no record of my license or my participation in the training program. They have no transcripts proving my MA. And they have no employment record of any kind since 1998. I'd be upset but it really struck me as funny. I haven't had such a good laugh in a month or more. (My lovely Sarah wondered aloud if I was blacklisted, but I know from the tone of the letter, and from knowing the DOE, that they're not that well organized. And I also know I could jump through their hoops and eventually be rehired).

To me, that's a great example of answered prayer. It wasn't in the form of the still quiet voice, that I'm most familiar with. Nor was it in the form of an angry silence which is what I remember from my childhood. This was loud and obnoxious.

Me: "Dear sweet, five pound eight ounce, baby Jesus, should I go back to the DOE as a Vice Principal? It pays really well, and I've learned a lot since last time I worked for them. I can handle it, really I can.

Jesus: "FUCK NO!! What's the matter with you? Why do you think I got you out of there? You dumbass."

Recent Photos

2008-06-07T17:40:00.003-10:00

Ship and Equipment

Yellow in the Middle

Double Dare

2008-06-04T15:33:00.003-10:00

I dare you sit down in a quiet place, turn up the speakers and listen to the song without a tear or two:

For more enter Eva Cassidy on YouTube.

News on the Intuitive Painting Blog

2008-05-31T09:24:00.000-10:00

Tioli's Intuitive Painting Blog.

Gay Marriage and the Heterosexual Insurance Shopper

2008-05-29T15:37:00.003-10:00

I don't qualify for health insurance anymore. Thing is, when I made my applications after my COBRA coverage ended, I told the truth. I said that I had been taking a medication to lower my cholesterol and that's a pre-existing condition. Seems truthfulness on insurance applications is the wrong idea. Even the insurance agents told me later I should have lied. But I didn't, and I have had to wait a year before any insurance company will look at a new application for me--and I have to be off the medication for that amount of time.

So now I'm reapplying to the three possibilities in Hawaii. HMSA seemed like a good possibility but I got a call the other day saying the wedding certificate I sent in to prove that Sarah and I are married is inadequate. They aren't interested in what a minister has to say, we need the official state-approved Department of Health certificate. We never bothered to get one, because, it's not the State's business whether or not I'm married. And I'll be danged if I let a Godless bureaucracy pass judgment on my fitness to marry.

It's an easy fix. We'll trot down to the Department of Health, get our blood tests to prove that we can sire children without birth defects, pay our tax, and get the paper. But it suddenly became clearer to me how we, as a nation, discriminate against certain groups of people. I'm reasonably sure that most gays don't care if the state recognizes their marriages. I'd also be willing to bet that most gays don't care if the Christian community recognizes their commitments. But I do see how important a marriage or domestic partner license could be for the gay couple just so they have access to the things that we heterosexuals take for granted every day, like joint insurance, joint ownership of property, and wills.

It's been said that gay marriage (or legal domestic partnering) represents a threat to traditional marriage. Divorce actually presents a bigger threat to traditional marriage; divorce and marrying too young, or marrying on the spur of the moment in Vegas, or marrying for the sixth time... The fact is the gay community doesn't pose a threat to my marriage, or to the marriages of my christian friends. We can, however, do a great service to many people by allowing some sort of legal recognition for thousands of committed gays and lesbians. And we can end yet another example of prejudice and discrimination in this so-called enlightened nation.

Vog

2008-05-17T15:28:00.004-10:00

Looking North from Basil's on a clearer day.

Looking North from Basil's.

This post should be in the Real Hawaii Blog, I guess, but I prepared it for my RC Blog and decided to post it here. These shots are taken from the top of Basil's (the sister peak to Goat's) which is our RC Slope Glider site. The Vog is a combination of volcanic discharge (SO2) and humidity (fog). The volcano is in a more active phase and the lack of strong winds creates havoc with the visibility and our slope soaring and our allergies.

Kid on Goat's

2008-05-14T14:04:00.005-10:00

My usual day-off hike with Jack is along the well named, Goat Hill at Kua Bay. We park in the shade of the cinder cone and walk a mile to the beach. After a bit of exploring and cooling off in the water we hike back up the four-wheel-drive trail to the truck. The opportunity to chase feral goats make the hike a favorite of Jack's.

I'm always surprised by the look of the goats. They are somehow different than the Navajo goats I grew up seeing. They're more Pan-like, more Shakespearean. They smell the same though, the whole area is ripe with a very familiar odor.

Hunting season opened this week and we came across a couple hunters on our hike down the hill. I surprised myself by talking to the hunter in a very natural way about where I had just seen an old Billy, probably the chief administrator in this area. I didn't give it a second thought as I pointed up the hill where we could easily see the flock watching warily. Later I thought that my behavior was probably strange to the hunter as it was to me. I think I must look like a typical liberal mainland transplant who would be against taking the life of an innocent little goat. I thought later that many people here would have lectured the hunters, or insulted them, or run through the brush banging pans and disrupting the hunt.

I also felt a little chagrined, like I had betrayed, without thought, the goats that had brought Jack and I so many adventures on our little walks.

Trouble

2008-05-12T10:31:00.008-10:00

The last post brought up a couple things I thought I'd mention. First of all it should be noted, at this point, that I was a very bad boy at Immanuel Mission, both as a kid and adult. And most will say that my issues with the Holy Club (not Jesus, himself) are a result of my own Sin. I am not able to categorize and dismiss it so easily.

As an adult, I did my penance and made my peace on a person-by-person basis and have left nothing undone. As a kid I'm not sure I need to, although I have made peace with all whom I was able, and in spirit with all others.

My sister-in-law has said of me as a kid: "He had issues..." That's putting it mildly, as I'm not sure anybody knows the half of it. Of course that begs the question: If the missionaries knew I had issues as a child among them (albeit a child of the wrong color), why was nothing done? So, I sit and write and think and remember and attempt to find some healing in my own way.

I'll start with a video I slapped together and posted on my back-door blog. It can be seen as my apology to everyone I haven't already apologized to, in which case the words in the song are mine. It could also be seen as being addressed to me as a child. I know no one in the video is guilty of anything in regards to me--that's not the point. The point is healing, my attempt to connect on the soul level with a place and time that really "has issues."

I credit Kathy Staley, drewnels.net, and John Bloom for some really nice shots. I don't know who took any of the other photos.