Growler

      More Letters From Paradise
              Growler
Beautiful old brass
cash register
That old machine rings up
pints and quarts
the old man said
That's because it used to be
in an old saloon.
I'll bet it has had a couple
million dollars
put through it.
You never saw a broke
saloon keeper
even when beer was
5 cents a glass.
The old cobbler
used to send me down to the
saloon
for a bucket of beer
what used to be called a
growler.
It was larger than a tin
dinner bucket
and I always drank some off of
the top
on the way back
so that it wouldn't spill
he explained.
In those days
he continued
5 cents would buy a
huge glass of beer
and you could eat what you wanted
of  the
free lunch.
Of course, he added
men worked for 75 cents
a day.
            July 1978
        Aloha
        Grant

Some Other Stuff

      More Letters From Paradise
         Some Other Stuff
My thanks to Aunt Marlene for reminding me of frozen milk bottles way back then. I also forgot to tell about the quart size bottles of orange drink, which were so desired by all the kids.

Mark Twain once wrote that the report if his death was greatly exaggerated. I now have something in common with him. We recently decided to transfer our Elks membership from Michigan. It was about time, after all we have lived here ten years. Then it happened. The secretary of our lodge in Michigan, when transferring our membership, hit the wrong key. I then became deceased. The mess is now being fixed (we hope).A simple letter mailed to the Elks lodge here would have finished the problem. Computers are not always the wonderful things we are led to believe that they are. Anyway, I'm still not dead.

After the recent hurricane, which by the way caused great damage in Puna, on the Big Island, we have a large stockpile of water, batteries etc. But the hurricane season is not over yet. We must always be prepared.

Our city council is driving many of us nuts. They can't seem to pass laws that would forbid peeing, pooping, lounging across sidewalks, pan handling etc. Many people from Canada and elsewhere have written to the local paper saying that they will not return, even if they had been coming here for years. And tourism is our number one source of income. A lot of us are real angry.

And, please ask your friends to read my blog. Not just the recent stuff, roll back and see what is there. There are over 130 entries. Thank You.

          Aloha
          Grant

Coal Train

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             Coal Train
Mary Jo was madder than hell. She was an old widow who lived close by the railroad that hauled coal cars up and over the mountain. One day Patsy, her cow wandered on to the tracks and was killed. That's why Mary Jo was mad. She felt that as the train killed Patsy,they should pay her for their  crime.

So she sent a letter to the offices of the railroad, which was brief but to the point. "Your train ran over my cow, and I expect you to pay me for it." A few days later she received a brief letter in reply. "Your cow was trespassing on railroad property. We are sorry that this happened, but we do not intend to pay you for your cow."

Now Mary Jo came from  long line of people who always refused to accept "no" as the proper answer.  So she decided to change their answer.

She had butchered a hog that fall, which resulted with a large crock full of lard. Late one night she heated some of the lard in a kettle, and armed with a pail of hot lard and her mop, she headed to the train tracks.

The following morning she sat on her porch finishing her coffee, awaiting the coming spectacular. The coal train was right on time, each car filled with tons of coal. She watched with glee as the engine strained, and its wheels whirled uselessly.

The drama continued to unfold as a hand car  pumped by two men rolled up to the stalled train. A discussion  was held with the engineer and the late comers. The hand car was pumped back down the tracks and disappeared. After some time it returned, this time full of men with shovels, and bags of sand.

Mary Jo continued to watch as the men spread sand on the rails. The engineer set the train in motion only to find that there was too much weight, and the train had to be reduced by a large number of cars. Then the front part of the train was able to climb over the mountain.

The railroad officials knew who the person was who had mopped the fat on the rails, but they also knew when they were whipped. They sent an official to Mary Jo to plead with her to stop mopping the tracks. He agreed to settle her claim. "Will a check be alright?," he asked. "Cash," Mary Jo replied.
                        8/28/14
        Aloha (true story)
        Grant

Seventy Eight

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           Seventy-Eight
I realize that seventy-eight isn't old,if you are a tree. But that is the life expectancy age for the U.S. So here I am, and happy to be. But inside there is a forty year old screaming to get out.
This past Sunday I was feted by a number of my friends at the Honolulu Polo Club. The club furnished two bottles of champagne and a cake. I was given the honor to throw out the ball for the first chukker (seven minute playing period.) And as it is so often written,"a good time was had by all."

Old age is not for sissies. Everything sometimes hurts, and what does not hurt, does not work so well either. You find that you have more doctors than you have friends.

I was born in 1936, during the "Great Depression." FDR's "New Deal" was slowly chasing away the problems of the time, but the attack on Pearl Harbor was just around the corner. There was no television, refrigerators, or micro-waves.
In the Summer we all feared catching Polio. Our President Roosevelt was crippled by it.  People never locked their doors at night. Armies of boys played "kick the can" under the street light, until they were called home to bed.

The arrival of the ice delivery truck was always welcome. Often there were ice chips he couldn't use. Most people in our neighborhood heated their homes with coal. The coal truck backed up to each house and sent its discharge roaring into the basement. This explained why there were small black dots decorating area snow.And I will forever remember the deep quiet of any night, the silence broken only by a passing car.

        Aloha
        Grant

Making Waffles

       More Letters From Paradise      
           Making Waffles
Waffles, those pancakes with tire treads. It has become my custom to make several waffles when the iron is brought out. These are frozen to be toasted when desired.
I had a "helper" this time around. And so I proceeded as follows:
Enter kitchen (step over dog). Turn to cupboard to obtain mixing bowl,measuring cup, and mix. (step over dog) Move to counter (slide dog to the left ) Measure mix into bowl, add water and stir. While iron is getting warm, so are my feet. (dog again, this time sprawled across my feet) Green light blinks, waffle is done. Push dog off feet and remove waffle with fork. (again slide dog away from work space) Repeat and repeat again until batter is used up.


         Aloha
         Grant

Mai Times

      More Letters From Paradise

             MAI TIMES
   issue 1 vol.1 August 23, 2014

      MOP FIGHT            
Mai Tai recently fought
a brave fight with the
Swiffer mop. He retired
to consider his future
options. story p. 3

       GPS
Mai Tai has his own
GPS system which enables
him to find the exact
place under your seat
or feet. more p. 3

OBJECTS RECOVERED
Stolen objects were
found under the master
bed. Objects found
included..p.6

TOILET PAPER THIEF
When it was assumed
that only cats had
this habit. more p.7

PALM TREES INSPECTED
Evening walks finds
Mai Tai inspecting
all the palms for
any messages left
for him. more p.10

NEW TRAINER SOUGHT
Two large, heavily scarred
pit bull dogs with
muzzles were placed
in a group with Mai Tai.
They were there by a court
order, or would be "put down"
after having bitten 2 people.
The trainer removed the
muzzles and it was decided it
would be too dangerous
for Mai Tai to remain.
           story p. 7

    Aloha
    Grant
 

Progress Report AKA Mr. Fuzzy

      More Letters From Paradise
 Progress Report Mai Tai a.k.a. Mr. Fuzzy
 Peeing on paper A
Coming when called (unless otherwise occupied) B
Greeting other dogs large or small
with wagging tail A (note: nasty small
ShiTzu with no training, causes Mai Tai to cower in fear. This dog is my candidate to make a couple of meals in Chinatown.)
Enjoying long walks in the evening A
Visiting every palm tree to see if he has any messages A
Unrolling toilet paper D
Running away with Kleenex or napkins C
Hiding stolen goods under master bed B
Mai Tai continues to improve with instructions to sit,stay,heel, shake hands.
We wonder sometimes how we ever got along without him.

Building 419

       More Letters From Paradise
             Building 419
This is a reprint from a story I wrote some time ago. I thought I had lost it, so here it is again. Maybe it's new to  my recent readers.
 
             Building 419
In an area of Honolulu known only to a few and forgotten by many, is this huge warehouse. Built in 1935, and slated to be torn down along with its warehouse companions. The wood is riddled by termites and is thought to be haunted by ghosts. The building was once home to sorrow and grief. It was here that the bodies of servicemen were brought for inspection, given a brief religious service, then placed in coffins to be sent home.

Beginning with Korea, then in the 1960's and 1970's, war dead from Vietnam came through here. Building 419 served as an over-flow mortuary during the periods of heavy fighting at Tan Son Nhut and DaNang. An embalmer who had worked there estimated that 40 to 80 bodies arrived every month.

For most of the service members killed in Vietnam, if a home town was east of the Mississippi River,the first port of call for entry into the U.S. was Dover, Delaware. If the home town was west of the Mississippi, the port of call was Oakland, California.

The huge warehouse is rented by a woman named Sandi Kamau'nu, as a military surplus store and museum. She is determined that this important bit of history not be forgotten. But it is a race between the wrecking ball and the termites. High above the wood crates, ponchos, and $7.49 helmets hangs a quiet sign which reads: "All Gave  Some. Some Gave All." How soon we forget that those $7.49 helmets were once sold for much more.
   
       Aloha
       Grant

How to Get A Head

       More Letters From Paradise
          How to Get a Head
When I am faced with "Writer"s Block," as I am now, I often return to the time when I was growing vegetables for market. I understand that a writer should write about things they know. I know about cabbages, hence this essay about this most hardy vegetable.

As with all life, cabbage begins with a seed. The seed is grown in green houses and when reaching proper size, is removed to outdoor cold frames, to become  used to the colder outside temperatures. These cold frames are boxes which have glass or plastic covers which can be kept open in the day, then closed at night.
When the plants are about three or four inches high, they are then ready to be transplanted to fields where they will remain until harvested.

The young plants arrive in small bunches, and are placed aboard a transplanter. My  machine would plant two rows at one time.Larger machines are able to plant many more rows.
The machine consists of two wheels which are fed plants from four open boxes, two for each wheel. Next to each wheel are seats, one on each side of the wheel. So on my two row planter four people were required,two people to feed  each wheel. I found that young people who weighed less, and were quicker with their hands, made fewer misses when feeding the rotating wheel. It worked really well when there were two left-handed  kids paired with two right-handed kids.

The operation worked as follows: The persons on the planter had their backs to the tractor  pulling the machine. As the tractor moved slowly along, the wheels would turn exposing a narrow metal tray with rubber gripping finders. The people seated in front of open boxes piled high with plants, would grab a plant and quickly place it in the tray as the wheel continued to rotate downwards. The plant now held by the rubber fingers would be carried down to an open furrow in the soil, where it would be made firm by the wheel and set free in its new home. The wheel continued upwards where the now empty trays would receive a new plant.  The operation continues down the field with two rows of plants evenly spaced, string out behind the tractor and transplanter. Sometimes a person on the machine fails to fill a tray with a plant, which shows as a gap in the rows of plants. Laughter comes when someone places the plant in the tray the wrong way, which then displays a plant in the field showing its root to the sky. It is a grand sight to see a field now set with plants all in neat rows. I should note that some transplanters even give a shot of water or fertilizer to each plant as it arrives from the turning  wheel. To my mind there is nothing finer than to stand in a field of cabbages with the rain drumming on their broad leaves.

Most cabbages are of course round. But there is one variety called "Dutch Flat Head." And there are red cabbages too. Cabbages are very hardy. Years ago farmers used to pull cabbages from the field after a light frost, and store them in grave-size pits filled with straw. Then anytime during winter when cabbage was called for, they would be taken up, trimmed, and you would have a cabbage as fresh as when one was first cut in the field.

Two more things about this vegetable. When shredded into a crock or some daily large container, and sprinkled with salt in layers, the result is sauerkraut. So simple, and so good. It's funny but nothing else is needed except some salt. The salt draws juice from the cabbage, and soon you have a wet mass. Place a plate with a heavy weight on top to keep the cabbage under the juice.  I used a big rock, but a water filled jar works as well. Stir the cabbage once in a while. You will now have a strong smell. You will know when it looks like kraut. It then can be canned, or given away to friends. One other thing should be mentioned, the recipe "Stuffed Cabbage or "Pigs in a Blanket." Here in Hawaii we often see Korean "Kim Chee," being offered in restaurants. All I know about it is that it uses fermented cabbage.  So the next time you buy a cabbage, take time to reflect how it came to be in your hand.

        Aloha
        Grant