BITTER PINEAPPLE

So we are back from Hawaii. Exit Funtopia. Enter...sigh...wherever. I feel a bit like Woody Allen in Annie Hall in that scene where he's failing horribly at recreating a "spontaneous moment" involving runaway lobsters...Yesterday I actually made my wife go out and buy me a pineapple at Pavillions. All they had was a Del Monte Pineapple. And it is bitter.

Dare I even attempt a homemade Mai Tai?

I'm sitting here in my office, lips puckered and determined to finish my zip lock bag of punishment for trying to keep the Aloha alive within. I should just accept the fact that I'm not in Hawaii any longer.

But on the bright side today was Charlie Dodge's first day of the third grade. New shoes. New lunchbox. New teacher. Charlie was very upbeat this morning, humming while brushing her teeth, and constantly worried that her parents were going to make her late for her first day. By the way, Charlie actually lost a tooth while in the air traveling back home from Oahu...how many kids can put that on their resume?

Chase was able to sleep in late this morning. She begins year two of preschool next week. This year Chase moves on to the "older classroom." I'm not exactly sure what that means but if it is anything like the mob, she will now be receiving "tributes" from the younger class members.

So now Fall is officially upon us. Do they call it "Fall" because that's what happens to your cheerfulness after a summer vacation (And the studio audience goes "AWWWWWW.")

So now I must return back to this so called "pineapple."

Mahalo.

Aloha Oahu

Alright...remember how I said we were going to do nothing but relax? Boy did we veer away from that first thing in the morning. Manoa Falls had been haunting us since we got here. We had planned on hiking it early on, but kept bumping it back. So we decided to do it today. Simple easy hike, right? That's what all the books said. That's what all the folks who recommended it to me said. "Just know you might get a little muddy." Hmmm.

Now, I dunno what is wrong with us. Really, it must be something that's wrong with us. Because this was supposed to be a moderate hike to a lovely waterfall. Instead it turned into a jungle slog. Honestly, from the moment we passed a sign that read "Hike at your own risk...the waters and mud may contain spiracolibacusblahblahblah..." I felt Tiffany clench. I didn't see it. It's not something you could see. But I knew. It's almost like a "force" that she emits outward that wraps around your soul. I know she wanted to just turn and run...screaming out of the jungle with the hope that the very sound waves could stave off the germs until she could get to the nearest Lysol bath. But Tiffany was such a good sport. She just shot me a look and said in a very pleasant, even tone throughout the hike, "Okay...don't touch anything." I have to admit, I was saying it a lot, too.

UP we went. But don't let this photo...taken near the parking lot...fool you. THIS HIKE WAS A HUMP IN THE JUNGLE!!! Everyone forgot to tell us that small detail. UP UP UP. And not just quaint little switchbacks in a sun drenched crater like we had at Diamond head. There were parts where the upward trail was nothing more than piles of rocks slicked with mud, jungle dew and what I'm sure Tiffany imagined as pure death. Pushing Charlie up with one hand and pulling Chase up with another wrought such a sweat from me that I was pretty certain "Manoa Falls" was a reference to how much sweat one produces while conducting this trudge. We were speechless. Stuttering and slobbering with exhaustion.

And then a tiny little dog passed us. And then a family with a toddler passed us. And then a woman with a cane passed us coming back down. And then the group that started out the same time as we did passed us on their way back down. I was so shamed I wouldn't have been surprised had a person in a wheelchair popped a wheelie off of some muddy ledge and flipped us the double bird.

But we made it. And we looked. There were cables that kept us about twenty feet from the actual body of water with a sign explaining why being due to "A rock avalanche that happened in 2002." And we took our photo. Aren't we fit to be keen?

And then we came down. Careful steps, of course. I was nagging everyone not to slip...take their time...be careful...I even told the wife it would be bad if she slipped and twisted her ankle because it would suck to wait for help in this steamy, muddy jungle. Even though I don't think I came off smug, in hindsight it might have come off as a "Careful, little lady." type thing.

For what happened?

About two minutes from completing the hike...already past the most treacherous of rocky obstacles...I totally ate shit, landed on my ass, and took Chase to her ass along with me. Chase, thank goodness, was totally fine- if not a little miffed. From that point on she wanted to hold Mommy's hand. But in the process I managed to maybe hyper extend my big toe or something. Anyway...now I'm hobbling. It's not purple or anything...but it hurts and I'm lame in every definition and cultural utilage of the word.

So we hosed off all the infested mud and lunched and took it easy poolside...WHAT WE SHOULD HAVE BEEN DOING FROM THE MOMENT WE WOKE UP. Charlie really really really wanted one last stab at the beach...this time with the boogey board. I acquiesced. We loped over to the beach and had a bitchin' time. Charlie even caught a wave on the board and rode it to the shore. We body surfed...we played in the waves. And I had my phone in this waterproof pouch that "THE NAVY SEALS USE" to keep my cellphone in. Well, I guess playing in Waikiki waves is more rigorous that doing whatever Navy SEALS do...because the pouch flooded and my sad little phone is over. OVER! If anyone is trying to call me, call my wife.

But a lovely seaside dinner at the Hula Cafe made me quickly forget my toe and my stupid little phone. And I thought to myself. Damn. I haven't even left but I feel the pull to come back. Soon.

So we arrive back to Los Angeles Tuesday. Lucky you. We've missed you all and look forword to repeating stories of our experiences over and over and over again until you all start rolling your eyes while finishing our stories for us.

Mahalo.

105.1 K-I-N-E...The Hawaiian Station...a blowhole under renovation.

Cousins,

Today was the day we invaded Hanauma Bay. Figuring the girls were having too much fun, I decided to wake them up at 6am this morning. What that meant for me was...I had to wake up at 5:30. I set a wake up call...then asked for a reminder call fifteen minutes later...then set my phone...and guess what...I managed to rise out of bed in time.

Tiffany prodded and poked the kidlins awake...she should have used a chair and bullwhip...have any of you ever seen Chase at 6am? Courage is what it takes to wake her up at that hour. While the wife stirred the young ones, I sluffed down the block to McDonald's. We needed food "on the go." So I got a "Local Breakfast." This was three slices of Portuguese sausage, two slices of SPAM, scrambled eggs and rice. Now that's McEating.

We gobbled in the wee morning as I drove us to Hanauma Bay. Why so early? Because this joint is popular...and once the parking lot fills, that's it...no mas entrar.

Now if you like colorful, stripey unbashful creatures of the semi-deep, this place is the place for you. It dwarfs what we've seen earlier. But Daddy paid the price for this adventure...IN BLOOD!

As I was hauling Chase along on her LOOKIE BOARD, the coral reef suddenly became very shallow...I tried to float over it, but SCCCRRAAAPPPEEE! I lost a chunk of skin on my knee. This was the kind of wound that didn't bleed right away...but once it did...well, let's put it this way cousins...I went through two McDonald's napkins. Of course I handled it cool as a cucumber, I only cried for ten minutes. Chase watched me with great disgust as I dialed 911 on my cellphone and sobbed for an emergency Mai Tai.

While at Hanauma Bay I just kept imagining what it must have been like to just live there a long time ago...could it ever get boring? With such beauty, and treacherous coral? I don't think so. And even if things did get a little dreary there was always an angry Polynesian King to keep you on your toes.

The water at the shore was so easy and calm. Both Chase and Charlie spent a big chunk of the time just playing in about a foot of water...while the bravest of fish swam up and around them.

We boogeyed on out of Hanauma Bay right as it hit capacity, and it was the right moment to split. During last snorkeling outing Charlie and I made before we left, we actually kept bumping into other snorkelers. Nobody has any peripheral vision, thus aqua-apologies ensue.

Then lunch at this place called Kona Brewing Company. Why am I mentioning this? Oh nothing, it's just where you get the best local brewed beer on the island, that's all. No big deal. Even the wife got into the boozing spirit. She actually finished a glass of beer. I tried to use pressure to get her to drink more, but as usual, she didn't buckle.

We tried to check out the Halona Blowhole afterwards...but our attempts were thwarted...there was a sign that said it was under refurbishment. How you refurbish a blowhole, I don't know. Many different pictures pop into my head but they're all R rated. Eh, maybe they were just talking about the parking lot...

As we were cruising around we had the local tunes cranked. 105.1 plays nothing but Hawaiian tunes and music from local artists. It might be the most loathed station by the locals. But this tourist loves it! It's just perfect for the sights, the water, and the top down.

Getting the convertible was a smart choice, even though we are all getting cooked like four ballpark wieners.

But absorbing this place is a lot more pleasant when you can soak in the sun and sights with the wind in your hair...instead of being cramped in a ford focus.
For dinner we went to a place recommended to us by more than one person, THE SIDESTREET INN. It's a Karaoke Bar, Cigar Bar and Restaurant. It's described as the place where all the best chefs on the island go to nosh after hours. And let me tell you...

Korean short ribs, pork fried rice with bits of bacon, fried pork chops, calamari steak strips. It was GOOOOD EATIN'.

On the television U of H was battling it out with UCLA in some Hawaiian Invitational for Women's Volleyball. The Sidestreet Inn became electrified as U of H battled back from what was an expected loss, then came within striking distance to even it out so many times. But UCLA ultimately put the Wahini Warriors to bed. I'm sure some of the locals wondered why this white guy with a sunburn was rooting so hard for U of H to win.


At dinner, Charlie had two Sprites, so I had to take the keys from her and drive back to the hotel.


Tomorrow is our last day before we leave this place, (When Chase made this realization yesterday she actually started to sob.) So we plan to do what everyone tells you to do while you're in Hawaii - after their long list of sights to see and whatnot - and that is...chill. It's just going to be us and the beach and maybe a waterfall. But we are going to do our best to stretch the day out as long as we can.


Mahalo.