Mara's Story

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           Mara's Story

"There are not many White Russians left,most of them are dead." she said.
"The Revolution of 1917, was a long time ago." I replied.
"I was born in Shanghai." she continued.  "Many White Russians moved to China, they couldn't go back to Russia and be killed."

"So what did your parents do in Shanghai?" I asked. "They sold some silverware and a samovar, and started a business."
"What did they sell?" "I don't know, but we lived pretty well." "That was until the war between Chang Kai Chek's Nationalists and Mao Tse Tung." "And when the Red Army won,we lost everything." "There were two countries we could go to, Argentina and Brazil." "We chose to go to Brazil." "We were so poor."

"Did you learn to speak Portuguese?" "Yes, and I went to school.""How did you manage to come to America?" "We had an aunt living there and she sponsored us."

Do you have anything that you brought here   from Russia?" "Yes, I have a large white scarf  that was given to my father, who was a soldier." "And down on one corner there is the name of the czar Nicholas II." " It must be very valuable,you should frame it." "I think I will, and give it to my daughter.

         Aloha
 
         Grant





















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Herman Melville and Me

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        Herman Melville And Me

The world famous author of Moby Dick, Herman Melville, and I have quite a bit in common. For instance, both he and I worked in stores here in Honolulu. I do not know what was sold in the store where he worked in 1841, but I sold tee shirts at the Hawaii Yacht Club during the 2015 Trans-Pacific Yacht Race.

But the strongest bond between us is that he went whale hunting, and so did I. He first sailed on the whaleship, Acusnet, and later on other ships. Many times my wife and I sailed on the Star of Honolulu. Melville's ship was seeking Sperm whales for their oil.  We were seeking humpback whales for good photographs.

Five times last season, my wife and I went seeking whales, and failed to find any. But you do get a rain check for a future trip. Most of the whales seemed to have been around the island of Maui.

Both his ship and ours had food aboard. The whaleships during his day fed the thirty-five man crew, an endless  diet of salt beef or pork, tea, dried peas, potatoes (while they lasted), dried beans, flour, and molasses. Of course upon sailing away they enjoyed fresh chicken and pork from pens lashed to the deck.

I am very sure that he would have preferred the food we had aboard. Taro rolls, blueberry muffins, link sausages, scrambled eggs, rice, fresh fruit, and tea or coffee.

I should mention that the galley (kitchen) of a whaleship was about five by eight feet  and the cook fed some 35 men. The cook was the poorest paid, and so they often jumped ship. I don't know the size of the  galley of the Star of Honolulu, but I can relate. I  measured the kitchen in our condo and it is about the same size. I have only to cook for the two of us, except during holidays when the number is inflated to at least thirteen. And, I don't have to tend a stove that must remain level while the whole ship rocks and rolls.

In a related item I should tell you that the wreck of a whaleship Two Brothers, was found 600 miles north west of Honolulu on12 February 2011. The wood had all rotted away, but harpoons and the great cauldrons for boiling down the whale fat were found. This was the ship from Nantucket that was captained by George Pollard and was run aground. His earlier command was the Essex which was sunk by a whale. The tale of the Essex is one of survival and cannibalism. Pollard was considered unlucky, and never returned to sea. He served out his life as a night watchman.

Melville married the Essex tale of the ship being sunk by a whale into his novel, Moby Dick.

Humpback whales continue to come to Hawaii to breed and raise their calves, before returning to the cooler waters around Alaska. If you are ever in Hawaii during whaling season be sure to go and see the largest mammals in the  world.

        Aloha
        Grant

These Three

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          These Three

There are three often neglected, or lost in the shuffle of Christmas Stories. The first one to come to my mind is a short story "The Gift of the Maji" written by O. Henry (William Sydney Porter). The warm charming story tells about a couple who so loved each other and didn't have any money to exchange gifts. They each made a sacrifice  to make giving possible. This story is a good bet for Hallmark t.v. but they have probably already used it.

The second neglected work is "The Journey of the Wisemen," by T.S. Eliot.  The poem tells the difficulties they faced. An excellent    short poem.

The third neglected work is another long poem "A Child's Christmas in Wales," by the Welch poet Dylan Thomas. This is probably my favorite Christmas poem. New Directions published a slim booklet of the poem many years ago. I thought so much of the poem that I copied it for my students.

I am fortunate to have a recording of the poet reading it. The poem tells of the events taking place in this Welch town on Christmas. I remember reading that when the recording took place, the poet sat on the edge of the theater stage with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He probably had a few drinks too. Alcohol in the end killed him. Some images from the poem come to mind. He recalls the gifts he received, the aunt who was drunk and singing like a big bosomed thrush in the backyard. Two men smoking their pipes on a walk in the snow. Eternal snow since last Wednesday. People with their cheeks stuffed with goose pressed against the window pane. Small boys wanting to write in the snow,"Mr. Daniel looks like a spaniel." Oh there is so much. I cannot begin do this poem justice. If you are not familiar with the work, do yourself a treat and enjoy.

      Aloha

      Grant

Just Suppose

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            Just Suppose

The man shuddered as he walked quickly past the elevator, knowing that sounds from it had ceased days ago. He had keys to an often vacant apartment. Maybe he could find some bottles of water.

It had been three weeks earlier that the giant tsunami had roared ashore at Waikiki. The entire South shore of the island had been wrenched apart by the raging wall of water. People living in buildings above seven floors survived. Bodies and debris filled the silent streets. Electric power failed, and so later did cell phones, as there was no way to recharge them.

Tourists used to being supplied with food and water, raided flooded kitchen storerooms and took to the debris filled silent streets, in search of food and water.

Help from the windward side of the island was being delayed due to downed trees and wreckage from the storm. Help was also slow in coming from the mainland due to a giant storm which prevented supply planes from arriving. Even ships carrying relief supplies found it impossible to cross the churning sea. Waikiki was now all alone.

All the stores in the area were either destroyed or looted of their contents. Roving bands emptied small mom and pop stores located on higher ground. The police and sheriff departments were unable to maintain law and order.

People living in condos were spared the effects of the storm,but soon ran short of water. Some tents fashioned long ropes of electrical cords,sheets torn into strips and woven together. These were lowered down to the ground where bartering took place. Canned food was exchanged for gallons of water.

Small bands of men roamed the hallways of the silent buildings looking for kitchens to loot.

The man thought that he and his wife were probably safe as they lived so high in the building, and it would be a long climb up. They had often heard gunfire. He wished he had bought a baseball bat for protection. But the leg of a table or chair would have to do in an emergency. As long as their deadbolt held, they were pretty safe.

Sometimes choppers were seen lifting people from the roofs of buildings. But there were so many people, the task was overwhelming.

The storm ceased at last,and the battery powered radio told that cargo planes would soon arrive, and drop supplies.The man and his wife  watched as the sky was filled with men and cargo chutes,landing on the wide grass field of Fort DeRussey and nearby beaches.

Far fetched? maybe, but just suppose.

      Aloha
      Grant

The Lesson

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            The Lesson

An old man was seated on a park bench reading his tablet."Mister would you help me?" The voice came from a small girl standing next to him. "What can I do for you?" he said. "Help me to learn to write in cursive." she replied. "What is your name?" he asked. "Emily." "How old are you?" "Nine, going on ten."

Why do you want to learn to write cursive?"  "It's so beautiful" "I look at the cursive writing by Thomas Jefferson and John Hancock, and they just seem to flow."
"Why does everyone print today?" "What happened?"

 The old man tried to explain." I think it all began with the invention of the printing press and moveable type."" It would have been difficult to print a newspaper or a tablet today in cursive."
"Oh but cursive didn't disappear." " It was used for a long time." " It was taught in schools."" Above the chalk boards the letters of the alphabet were shown, and how to form each letter, both large letters and small ones."

"People would send each other letters written in cursive."" There were even postcards written on one side and sent people." "That wasn't very private was it?" "No, but these were just friendly letters."" People would send cards from places were they were, while on vacation."

"What then happened to curves?" she asked "Computers,the internet, and all the rest." the old man sighed.

"I still want to learn how to write in cursive" Emily said stubbornly." "Will you teach me?" "Why me?" "Because you are old and know so much."

"Well, I'm no expert, but I will show you how to write one word in cursive.""We will write Thomas Jefferson"s last name."

"What would you like to pretend to be,flying a plane or ice skating?" "I think I would like to be flying a plane." "So we are going to pretend that you are a flying a plane."

"First you should draw three horizontal line on your tablet,one above the other, with an even space between, like a fence with three wires." "Let me see what you have."She shows him her tablet.
 
"Now let's go flying and write Jefferson in cursive." "We begin on the middle line an take off up into the air, and make a wide loop to the left and then fly back down and pass over the middle line and fly on down and make a narrow loud and fly up again to the center line where you started." "Let's see how far you have flown. "That's pretty good."

"Now we have to connect the letter "J" to the next one, and all you do is to fly a small loop to the right and return to the center line." "Then you have to fly two tall narrow loops close together." "That looks real fine." "Next you fly another small loop and we come to the letter "r," which you fly up and stop and fly level to the right, and back down again." The next letter looks like a partridge or a robin pushing its chest cut." " Fly up, push your chest out, and come back down"This is the letter"s." "Now comes a really fun letter, fly a complete loop." "We now hook it to the last letter." "Fly straight up and then make a small arc to the right, and fly straight back down." "That is all there is to it." You have just written "Jefferson." in cursive. congratulations!"

"You should go to the internet and find more about cursive and how to form all the letters. And after much practice you will be able to write smoothly in cursive. " "Then something magical  will happen!"" You will have developed your own particular style of writing." "It belongs to you alone, and    nobody else." "Some people write small, some write very large." "Some writing slants to the right, and others to the left." "My grandpa Joe always wrote in green ink,"I always thought that was something special, everyone else always wrote in either blue or black ink."

"Thank you for the lesson." Emily said. "Will you be here tomorrow?" "I hope so," he replied.

         End

        Aloha
        Grant

Julia Child and Me

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         Julia Child and Me

In my tiny one-butt kitchen is a shelf full of cookbooks, the rest are in the bedroom. Squeezed between "The Escoffier Cookbook," translated from the French, as the Bible of Culinary Art, and James Beard's "American Cookery," is Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." It's Julia Child I want to write about.

I never had the good fortune to meet Julia, but I think we share several things in common. First, we both like to cook. And, both she and I have written cookbooks. Her "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," is a classic.  Mine, however, consists a a few pages written as a guide for our sons attending college, who had not a clue about cooking. A very limited publication. I did include two excellent simple recipes at the end, in order to impress girlfriends.

So we both wrote cookbooks. What's next? Why, Paris, of course. Julia graduated from a famous cooking school and lived in Paris.  A city we both loved.  It's been over forty years since I last saw Paris, but I remember it well. A kindly grocer pulling a wine cork out of a bottle so that it could wash down bread, while watching barges pass by on the Seine.

Strolling through Les Halles, the great market often referred to as the "Stomach of Paris." And eating a thick bowl of onion soup with a crust of bread and cheese on top.

But, as I now understand, the Paris Julia and I knew is no more, and the great market has moved outside of Paris.

And, how many of you remember Julia's cooking show on television? It was really great, and she made good use of wine in her recipes and in herself. Another thing we have in common!

There is one other something that we share. Julia lived in the same building where my wife and I now live, in Honolulu. It is a beautiful building, surrounded by a concrete and iron fence, with a shallow artificial lake and tea house. It is called the "Waipuna," which means "sweet water." In the days before the overthrow of the queen, royal nobles used to water their horses here. There is a spring located under the building. When Julia lived here there were a pair of swans, and beautiful koi fish.

 But now the swans are gone, the fish are gone, and so is Julia. I have not been able to discover the apartment where she lived.

        Aloha
        Grant

Chicken Foot

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           Chicken Foot
In order for you the reader to better understand  what happened, please remove your shoes and socks. Take a good look at your feet. Does the toe next to your big toe extend beyond it? If it does, you have a condition known as "Morton's Foot." Congratulations, if you do. The ancient Greeks thought that the condition was beautiful. Take a good look at the feet of a Greek statue and you will see what I mean. We should all have pity for the rest of the population who have only duck feet.

But I freely admit that if I had duck feet instead of beautiful toes, it might not have happened, and I would have escaped injury.

It all took place last night during an excellent dinner given by our friends Connie and Ray Davidson. Connie opened the top freezer door and sent a frozen chicken breast directly on the top of my beautiful toe. Oh the pain, the anguish! Should I sue? What about their insurance? Will that cover it? Thoughts raced through my mind. If I decide to sue, shouldn't it include Gordon and Penny, as it was their chicken breast? After some more thought, I just decided to drop the whole thing. Besides, it was a really good dinner. But I can't help wondering if I had duck feet, would the frozen chicken breast have missed me?

      Aloha
      Grant
 

Hemingway and Me

                 
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         Hemingway and Me

I baited my hook with the name "Hemingway," and you dear reader bit. It seems that almost everyone is interested in the life and writings of this author.

I confess that I never met the man, but I feel a special bond with him. Let me explain why.

First, the family of Dr. Hemingway, Ernest's father, was not unlike other wealthy Chicagoans, who fled  hot summers, to vacation in the coolness of Northern Michigan. My grandfather built a number of those cottages. My grandmother always referred to these visitors as "summer people."

One cottage being built by my grandfather came to an end with the crash of 1929. He was paid with stacks of china, silverware and furniture. These were kept stored in his apple storage house for years, and were reduced in size over the passing years.

The Hemingway cottage is on Waloon Lake, and  my grandparent's house was on Portage Point road. And, Hemingway lived for a time in Petosky, Michigan.

Readers will remember that Hemingway enjoyed  trout fishing in Northern Michigan. So did I.  But the fish that he and I caught were native trout, not those that were later introduced from fish hatcheries. The flesh of native trout is pink in color, not white as seen in planted varieties. Both Hemingway and I fished Lake Michigan long before the introduction of salmon.

Hemingway and I agree that the best way to cook a trout is to first, roll the cleaned fish in corn meal, and then fry it in a pan in which bacon has just been cooked.

Years ago when I was teaching an American literature class in Michigan,  I baited my hook with the fact that Hemingway's early stories were not about Italy or the Spanish Civil War, but about Michigan. I read them a small portion of "A Moveable Feast," which shows him writing about "Up in Michigan," and "The Big Two-Hearted River." Some of my students took the bait and became readers of his many books.

It's like I said, I feel that I have a kinship with Hemingway.

        Aloha
        Grant

Oliver Sacks

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         Oliver Sacks and Me

Oliver Sacks is dead! The name Oliver Sacks may not be a household word. He was born July 9, 1933, and died of terminal cancer in his Greenwich Village New York home, August 30, 2015. He was the world renowned neurologist, author, and professor of neurology at New York University of Medicine.

His name may not be familiar, but the motion picture "Awakenings," filmed in 1990, starring Robin Williams, Robert DeNiro, Julie Kavner, and Ruth Nelson was based upon a famous neurological clinical study made by Dr. Sacks.

Shortly following World War I, there was a great epidemic of sleeping sickness, and some few survivors became frozen in sleep for decades! Dr. Sacks gave them a new drug LDOPA, and they were brought back from the past into a strange new world.

All the details can be found in his book "Awakenings," available from Amazon. Another famous book has the very odd title "The Man Who Mistook His Wife For His Hat." Also purchased from Amazon.

Oliver Sacks was more than a neurologist and author. He rode a BMW motorcycle, lifted weights (600 lbs.a record ) and swam every day.

Why am I so interested in Dr. Sacks, the neurologist? It is because I am being treated by Dr. Eliza Hagen, another neurologist. There is nothing like having a brain seizure to cause one to become interested in neurology. Following a ten hour brain operation, Dr. Lee, a South Korean near surgeon planted 68 platinum coils in my brain. Dr. Hagen has me on what we  call a "Five Year Plan," and Teena  and I agree that "If it's not broken, don't fix it ".   I have been seizure-free for two and a half years, but still on medication twice a day. The early days following my seizure were pure hell. One of the side-effects of one medicine was thoughts of suicide! I had never even thought of suicide. And we live on the 30th floor! But things got righted out, and it's all good. Scared the hell out of us! All good now so far.

      Aloha
      Grant

All You White People

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        All You White People

Some time ago my friend Paul returned to the mainland for a visit. He said that he wanted to have some Indiana home-grown sweetcorn and tomatoes. He was surprised to see all those white people.

I told the story to my Chinese, American-born dentist. He had a similar experience while visiting China. "They all looked the same," he said.

The point I am trying to make is that here in Hawaii, there is such an ethnic mix it is sometime called chop suey, and we all take it for granted. One such example is that the driver license tests are written in eight different languages! Our Governor is Korean, while the State Superintendent of Schools is Japanese. Our dentist mentioned above is assisted by a Samoan woman. The hygienist is Vietnamese. Our family doctor who recently retired, is Japanese. His replacement is an Indian woman.

Our condo security guards are Hawaiian, Chinese, Samoan, and Haole. The word "haole" (how-lee) is a Hawaiian term meaning white or foreigner.

If you call Sears for the repair of your dishwasher, your repairmen could be a Chinese and a Filipino. And it doesn't matter what your ethnicity is. We have come to accept it for what it is. The ethnic diversity adds much richness to our lives.

Recently, Teena received a call from a woman on the mainland, wanting to ask about a particular hotel. Teena told her that the hotel is excellent and managed and staffed by Japanese. Hearing that, she chose another hotel and found to her dismay, the same situation she was trying so hard to avoid.

There are a lot of problems here in paradise, but race and ethnicity is not one of them. In fact, there is a very funny Hawaiian song in which several ethnic groups are made fun of. Nobody gets mad. As they say here "Ain't no big 'ting."

           Aloha
           Grant

From the Back of the Plane

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      From the Back of the Plane

I am sure that many of you remember when commercial flying was fun. Wide seats with wide armrests, free food served in coach class, and free movies.

In the good old days, Pan American, T.W.A. and other airlines carried passengers who were all well dressed, and were treated accordingly. Remember? Smoking was viewed as alright too. (cough cough)

Teena and I just returned home from a visit to the mainland. We flew both ways aboard Alaska airlines. The plane was the new Boeing 737 800 and 900 series. They are real happy with their new aircraft, but we are not! I would just like to get my hands on those designers and have them squeeze into their new slim, little padding, tiny armrests, and take a long ride and see how they would feel later. They have stretched the plane so more more passengers can be carried. Do I sense a profit motive here? Also the center aisle must be only fourteen inches wide, because the cart traveling  up and down it must be all of twelve inches wide. And if you are seated in an aisle seat, you are bumped repeatedly.

Some sort of I Pad is available to rent for $10.00. Restrooms up front and three in the rear of the plane for the rest of the herd.

In all fairness, I should mention that the prices for both food and drink are reasonable.  

In closing this rant I feel I should mention that you can avoid $25. per bag fee until boarding boarding when they will check it for you with no charge. But  I will have to admit that the plane carried us safely both ways, and isn't that what it is supposed to do?

      Aloha
      Grant

The Wright Brothers

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        The Wright Brothers

For centuries men have looked at the birds flying in the sky, with envy. One ancient Greek myth tells of a man named Icarus, who fashioned wings of feathers and wax. But when he flew too close to the sun,the wax melted and he plunged into the sea.

It was Leonardo DaVinci, who made the first intensive study of flying. His famous notebooks show drawings of bird's wings, and a man recalling in a machine for flying.

The dream of flying became real through the efforts of two brothers Wilber and Orville Wright. Working alone in their Dayton, Ohio bicycle shop they read all the information about gliders, and even constructed a wind tunnel in order to study wing shapes.

But their story is best told in the new biography "The Wright Brothers," by David McCullough, the two-time winner of the Pulitzer Prize, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom. I feel that this book is one of the best biographies I have ever read.

I fear that if I write too many details of the book it will ruin it for any reader. Charlie Taylor, a brilliant mechanic built  a four cylinder motor  which delivered 8 horsepower to the two hand-carved spruce propellers, eight and a half feet long , via a chain link drive.

The story of those test flights at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina and all the rest of the story I will leave to the book. But I will mention that the Wright Brothers home and bicycle shop can be visited at Henry Ford's Greenfield Village Museum, Dearborn, Michigan. If you are ever in the Detroit area, be sure to visit it.

The only other event which can compare to the Wright brothers, is when Neal Armstrong carrying a patch from their 1903 airplane, stepped out onto the moon.

       Aloha
       Grant

Don't Fence Me In

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         Don't Fence Me In

I passed a wall the other day and saw that it was built of lava rock. Nothing unusual about this, as lava rock is found all over the Hawaiian Islands, having been created by volcanoes. But this wall set me to thinking about walls and fences. I came to two conclusions. First, walls and fences are used to define territory. I think this is best expressed by the poet Robert Frost,in his poem "Mending Wall." In it he writes that "Stone fences make good neighbors."

The second reason for walls and fences is to keep people and animals either in or out. The first settlers in America built log walls in order to keep Indians out.

At a later date settlers would fell trees and then using steel wedges, split the logs into rails. Do you remember that Lincoln was a rail splitter? These rails would be crossed over near each end, and placed in a zig zag fashion across a field, thus creating a fence.

I remember years ago seeing stump fences marking out fields in Northern Michigan. The settlers would dig around the stumps of trees and then use oxen or horses to pull the stumps out of the ground, in order to create a fence when placed side by side with other stumps.

Next I began to think about fences, and tried to list them all. I began with the common woven wire fence which comes in a roll and is stapled to wood posts stuck in the ground or fastened to narrow steel posts. A good fence was said to be one that was "horse high, and sheep tight."

There are many other types of woven wire fence, one is called "chicken wire." You can guess what it is used for. And there are many others.

But perhaps the simplest fence is a single wire strand attached to a post and charged with electric current. This often works well as long as the battery remains charged. One time it didn't work so well, was when a big pig of mine simply walked to the fence, and with her nose pushed the insulator up, and walked out to freedom. That pig could really run!

Another single strand of fence was invented by a man name Joseph Gladden. It was called barbed wire, because sharp barbs were clamped on the wire at intervals. Sold in rolls and two strands would make a fence. This led to the wars between the cattlemen and the farmers. A popular song of the 1940's sung by the cowboy singer Gene Autry, was "Don't Fence Me In," in which he laments the fencing of the wide open plains.        There were many different kinds of barbs used and they make an interesting collection. I once had such a collection stapled to a barn siding board.

With the coming of World War I, barbed wire was put other uses. The war on the Western front became strung with miles of barbed wire to keep the enemy away. Wire cutters became standard equipment in the British Army. But before leaving the topic of WWI. should mention that the iron fences around wealthy British homes were cut off, and sent off to be melted,and used in the war effort.

Today the barbs on wire have been replaced with even more cruel razor blades. These are use by our military and on top of prison walls.    

Enough about fences. What about walls? The first one which come to mind is found in Homer's epic poem the "Iliad," which tells about the ancient war between the Trojans and the Greeks." I don't remember how high the walls of Troy were, but they frustrated the Greeks so much that they had to use the ruse of the wooden horse in order to gain entry.

Another wall is of course the "Great Wall of China," which was built to keep out nomadic peoples, and is about 13,171 miles long. I read somewhere that it is the only man-made structure which can be seen on Earth from the Moon. Inside Beijing today there are walls which enclosed the "Forbidden City" of the emperor.

Another famous wall was built by the Romans starting in the year 122 A.D. It is called "Hadrian's Wall," named for the Roman emperor at that time. It makes the northern-most part of the Roman Empire. It runs across Northern England 73 miles from Solway Firth on the East, to the Irish Sea on the West.It was built to keep out the warlike people known as Picts. Highly fortified and guarded  by Roman legions. We know which legions built the wall, as they left their name on it. Such a long way from sunny Italy.

Other walls which came to mind are adobe brick used in the Southwest and Mexico. In Mexico broken glass bottles are often seen imbedded in the cement on the top of walls. Remember the Alamo? Texans do. Adobe again. As a kid living there I am ashamed to admit that I kicked off a piece as a souvenir.

I remember seeing stone walls built by the Aztec people where they placed small stones in the cement joints between the stone blocks. Most unusual. And in Kentucky I saw a wall of stacked slate built by slaves.

There are a whole host of materials for walls. Concrete,glass,plastic, and of course brick. Roman bricks tell you when the brick was made, and in what year. Thomas Jefferson had a brick wall built in a serpentine shape which would give the wall more support than a straight wall.

Two other walls we are all familiar with are the Berlin Wall that separated Communist East Germany from West Germany, and the wall built by the U.S. to prevent Mexican people from coming here to live.

If you are reading this, I feel it is long enough. But I leave you with one other type of wall. It is a wall built by the Masai tribe of Kenya, Africa. It is built of thorn bushes to keep their cattle safe from lions.

     Aloha
     Grant

Can You Hear the Birds Singing?

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    Can You Hear the Birds Singing?

No, of course you can't because you are using your earbuds. Can you see the tree above you that is filled with yellow flowers, and they  carpet the sidewalk? No, because you are only looking at your phone or tablet. Do you hear the tapping of heels on the sidewalk, or the emergency vehicle racing on a rescue mission? No, you are still in the "zone" with your earbuds. Do you see the woman pushing the baby, and guy on the bike riding towards you? No, you are still looking at your phone or tablet. Do you see that the ocean surf has risen, and or that that the grass on Diamond Head is brown, little and dry? No, you are still looking on your phone or tablet.

Do you know that the traffic light has turned green, and that is why the car behind you is honking his horn? You were sending a text on your phone.

Do you sometimes wonder why you missed the floor you were supposed to exit? Do you suppose that it had something to do with your phone?

I will bet you never hear the singing lessons coming from an apartment above. Too bad, she has a lovely voice. Earbuds again.

Not to beat this theme to death, but I would point out that there is a wonderful world out there, just waiting for you to pull off your earbuds and drop your phones.

      Aloha
      Grant

Louis Armstrong

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         Louis Armstrong

Unless you are a big jazz buff, or listen to National Public Radio, you may not know the following story. I heard Garrison Keillor tell the story this morning. It is so good that I want to pass it along to you.

 Today is President Obama's birthday. Born here in Honolulu, in spite of what Donald Trump says. He shares this date with the late great Louis Armstrong.

Louis was born a poor kid in New Orleans. He used to sing for pennies, and he kept them in his mouth so that the big kids couldn't get them. He came to be called "Satchel Mouth." Later it became simply "Satchmo." He worked for a Jewish couple who were coal dealers. They bought him a tin trumpet. Because they had been so kind to him, he wore a star of David around his neck for the rest of his life.

      Aloha
      Grant
p.s. Read about the discovery of a diary on my  blog. morelettersfromparadise.blogspot.com

Another Diary

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           Another Diary

I am pretty sure that most people in the world know the tragic story told in the "Diary of Anne Frank".   Her diary has been translated into 67 languages.  A stage play and a motion picture all tell of her life and death along with her sister Margot, of typhus in the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.

I recently bought a few books at a local book sale and made a discovery. It is a diary written during the same time of Anne Frank. The title is "Young Moshe's Diary." It cost me one dollar. It first appeared in 1958 and was published in Jerusalem. The first English edition was published in 1965. The diary was written by Moshe Flinker.

There are some similarities: both were young adolescents and both were Dutch citizens. Anne lived in Amsterdam and Moshe lived in The Hague. And they both were killed by the Nazis. But there are many differences. Anne was from an assimilated Jewish environment and wrote her diary in Dutch.  Moshe lived in an Orthodox family and wrote in Hebrew. That is probably why his diary is comparatively unknown. Young Moshe was deeply religious, and lived according to the strict rules of Jewish orthodoxy. He prayed daily for all the Jews who were suffering, and for his own family.

Moshe's father was a wealthy businessman.  Moshe's family consisted of a father, mother, three sisters and a younger brother. They  were living in The Hague when the Germans swept over Europe. Thousands of Jews fled before the Nazi menace. Moshe's mother begged the father to flee to Switzerland, but he had been doing business in Brussels for over twenty years, and he felt that it was a safe place for them.

So the family moved to Brussels, where the Nazis were more lenient towards Jews.  Moshe's father paid for permission to live as aliens for three months. Then he paid again for six months, and he paid again for a long time permit. These permits allowed the family to use food stamps and lead an almost normal life. Unlike Anne, who was in hiding for two years, Moshe was free to attend school, going on his bike. Then Jews had to turn in  all bikes. So he took the trolley. The Jews were then forbidden to use the trollies. So Moshe walked to school.

All around them Jewish families were being rounded up and sent West. Moshe notes in his diary hearing Gobbels, the Nazi propaganda leader on the radio, raving against the Jews. He writes about the fighting between the Nazi's and Russians at Stalingrad. But more important are his thoughts about the persecutions of the Jews.

Moshe asked the question:
What can God mean by all the suffering, and why did he not prevent it happening? He also wondered if the anguish they are suffering is a continuing suffering of the past two thousand years, or is it  very different? He came to the conclusion that the earlier sufferings of the Jewish people had been localized. In some areas, Jewish people lived in peace and quiet. The Germans were out to destroy the entire people of Israel. Moshe struggled in anguish for the Jews, he felt guilty that he was not with them. He prays again and again for a miracle to end their suffering.

Moshe was teaching his sisters French, and he was learning Arabic on his own. He dreamed one day to go to Israel, and become an ambassador. But it was all too late.

Moshe, his father and mother were sent to Auschwitz where they were gassed, and disappeared in the smoke of the crematorium, along with millions of other Jews.

Moshe's writings were discovered by his surviving sisters in the cellar of the house in which they hid. The sisters are living today in Israel. I don't know what happened to the son.

As far as I know there are no plays or movies about Moshe Flinker. I felt that it was important to tell his story. The diary can be found on Amazon.

     Aloha
     Grant

Bag It

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               Bag It

"Do you have your bag?" the pretty young clerk behind the counter asked. "No," I replied, "I forgot." I went on to explain that my wife had even hung a paper bag on our door, to remind us. I looked over my purchases. A six-pack of beer, a small can of jalapeño peppers, two bunches of green onions, a can of pinto beans (they were out of black-eye peas), and a head of iceberg lettuce. The lettuce was to be used to provide crunch in a roast beef sandwich to be made later. Everything else but the beer would be added to the other stuff I already had, to be made into Texas caviar.

What was I to do? I saw that I could carry the beer in my left hand, no problem there. The jalapeño peppers would fit in the right side pocket of my shorts, the two bunches of green onions I could stuff in left side pocket. It would look pretty silly but what the hell. I could tuck the head of lettuce under my right arm and carry the can of pinto beans in my right hand. I thought I could manage alright. Then a voice on the other side of the counter invaded my thoughts "I could put it in a paper bag." I was saved. "Thank you very much," I replied. I swiped my credit card, took my receipt, and slunk out the door like a dog with its tail down.  

The island of Oahu where we live is the last of the islands that make up our state, to ban the use of plastic bags. One by one the other islands some time ago put the ban into effect. Even sleepy Molokai, the most Hawaiian of all the islands, three years ago put the  ban in place. Merchants here on Oahu fought the ban saying it would cost them money to do so. Anyway, the ban is here to stay, effective July lst. It is a very good thing as fish and other wildlife were being harmed.

This got me to thinking of back in the day when there were no plastic bags, only paper ones. We got along just fine. I worked as a kid at the local A&P Supermarket, and packed and carried many a paper bag to customers' cars.

Teena and I have a great number of sturdy bags, both cloth and plastic. Some of them in our car, ready to be put into use. Somehow we will manage to survive.

       Aloha
       Grant

Tom ( A Mostly True Story)

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     Tom  (A mostly true story)

  She had always known that she had loved Tom. Even in grade school when he had  pushed her on the swing. But as they grew older and graduated, they began to drift apart. She went away to a small Christian college, and Tom entered the university.     Upon graduating, he found a job and began taking flying lessons.

Tom was often to be seen flying over town and buzzing farms. That is until a farmer reported him for scaring his cows.

War came to Europe in 1914, the same year that she fell in love. Tom was invited to the wedding, but he sent his regrets saying that he was needed at his job.

It was nine months later that Tom received the news that she had delivered a baby boy. Tom bought a sterling silver baby mug with the name of the baby engraved, and sent it to her. After that he crossed the Detroit River to Windsor, Ontario and took a ship to England.

Tom quickly enlisted in the Royal Air Force. His university education and flying experience caused him to become an officer.

Not long after, she began receiving letters from Tom. She did not tell her husband, but buried them in her underwear drawer. She did did not write back to him. But the letters continued to come. Tom wrote about the bravery of the British pilots who flew against the Huns. He also wrote about how he had always loved her, and his hope of their being together. She cried, and put away his letters.

The letters grew more grim as Tom wrote about his friend being shot down over the trenches. And one morning in the mail a gray envelope arrived, and she knew without opening it, that Tom would never return from France.
   
        Aloha
        Grant

Shelter Stories

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         Shelter Stories

I am currently reading a most excellent book about civilian life in England during WWII. The title is "How We Lived Then" by Norman Longmate. I knew all about how we lived in America during WWII, but little about what had happened over across the pond. It was worth the four bucks I spent during a book sale.

To begin with, the British were subjected to being killed by bombs from the air. To meet this threat the British had two types of shelters, aside from the London Underground, church basements etc. The first of these was the "Anderson." This shelter was constructed of six corrugated steel panels, with flat panels front and rear with a door in one end.

A hole was dug 7ft 6in long and 6 ft wide, and a depth of 4ft. the whole structure was then covered with at least 15 inches of dirt.The Anderson was tough. It could stand up to a 500 lb. bomb dropped 20 ft. away, or a 100 lb. bomb dropped only 6ft. away. Only a direct hit would destroy it. The shelter was designed to hold six persons. Bunks and chairs were added. Some people grew vegetables or flowers on  the top of shelters. Two problems were the cold, and often, water seeping into the floor.

The Andersons were given free to people who could not afford them, otherwise the cost was 7 pounds. About 3.5 million were built. Many can still be found today, being used  as tool sheds or storage.

Okay, that was shelter for people outside of cities. What about people living in cities? The answer was the "Morrison." It was a shelter which was a table and a secure place to sleep at night. It didn't protect from bomb blast, but it did protect from flying debris and falling ceilings. The Morrison came in kit form to be bolted together with 350 separate parts. It consisted of a steel top and steel legs, with steel mesh sides. The top could be used as a table between air raids.

Each Morrison measured 2 m long, 1.2 m wide, and 75 cm tall. About 500,000 were made. They were given free to people who had a yearly income of less than 350 pounds.
(It is right about here that I again miss my old typewriter, which had a pound sign on the key board.)

And now we come to another group of shelters.This was during that event known to historians as the "Cold War." Many of you reading this remember being told at school of "Duck and cover." We entered a time when the threat of bombs were long past, and the harm from radiation became real. Fearing the Russians would drop an atomic bomb, and we would all perish from radiation, shelters were built.

Civil Defense published pamphlets telling home owners how to prepare by reinforcing basements with sand bags to shield from radiation. And so on.

A whole host of literature was born out of the fear of a nuclear war. I remember an exercise I used for a class in Sociology. It was about which people should be kept outside of a shelter.

Is there today a truly safe place for shelter? It is something to think about.

      Aloha
      Grant    

Thank You Mrs. Pinkerman

     
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     Thank You, Mrs. Pinkerman

Thank you for the tunafish sandwich. You see in 1955, it was still cool for high school seniors to carry their lunch in a brown paper bag. My friend Fritz and I carried our lunches. Our mothers would take turns  packing our lunches. Most other tunafish sandwiches I had eaten, contained a mixture of tuna,relish, and mayo. But Mrs. Pinkerman used chopped pimento stuffed green olives. It was wonderful, a really unique taste. I continue to use this idea when making a tunafish sandwich.

Right about here I feel that I must pay tribute to Wanda, the wife of my good buddy Pat. Pat and I taught high school together for a number of years, and we carried our brown bag lunches. When Pat had a meatloaf sandwich, Wanda would include a slice of American cheese. Pat would place the slice of cheese on top of the meatloaf and nuke it. Presto! Pat had a hot sandwich, which closely resembled a cheeseburger. I continue to copy this cheese topped meatloaf. I have named it a "Sheridan," which is their last name. Thank you Wanda.

And I would like to thank a  Greek immigrant family (unknown to me) who moved from New York to Detroit, and dressed up the lowly hot dog. Their idea was to cover the hot dog with beanies chili and chopped onion, topped off with yellow mustard. In Detroit it  is known as a Coney Island dog. This is another creation you could copy. It is really good.

       Aloha
       Grant
 

Ugly Ducklings

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          Ugly Ducklings

President Roosevelt called the Liberty Ships of WWII "ugly ducklings," and as such they would bring victory to Europe. So these cargo ships, came to be called Liberty Ships. There were 18 ship yards located on the East coast, West coast, and the Gulf. The plan was to build 2,711 ships, and 2,710 were completed.

Taking a cue from Henry Ford's idea of an assembly line, they decided to do the same with ship construction. 250 ton sections were transported by rail to shipyards for final assembly. This was already being done with warplanes. One ready to fly B24 bomber rolled off the assembly line every hour!

Shipyards competed, and the SS Robert E. Peary was built in 4 days, 15 hours, and 29 minutes! But on average, it took 70 days to build a ship. Ships had been riveted before, and now they were welded together. But there were problems, three ships broke in half. It was thought that the problem was with inexperienced welders. But it was proved that the cold Atlantic waters caused the steel to become brittle.

Liberty ships were 441 feet long, and 56 feet wide. They were powered by two oil fed boilers, and had a speed of 11 knots. Each ship had five holds for over 9,000 tons of cargo,plus planes or tanks, lashed on the top deck. A Liberty ship could carry 2,840 jeeps,440 tanks, or 230 million rounds of rifle ammunition.

These ships in 1943, also carried soldiers,over the protests of the military. They were sometimes called "Kaiser's coffins," after the West coast ship builder's name. This may have something to do with the fact that 24 ships were built using concrete. Ferro  cement  was used with steel. It was not a new idea. The British used concrete for ships during WWI, when there was a shortage of steel. Concrete floats, it is all a matter of displacement.
 
Liberty ships were named for famous Americans, starting with the signers of the Declaration of Indepence. A ship could be named by a group selling $ 2 million in War Bonds.

These slow cargo ships carried in addition to her crew, a Naval Armed Guard,consisting of 12 to 27 men. Ships were provided with a stern-mounted 4 inch gun, assorted anti-aircraft guns and machine guns.

More than 2,400 Liberty ships survived the war. While others were sunk by torpedoes or floating mines. Many were sold to foreign countries,loaned, or put to other uses. Some ships were used by M.S.T.S., (Military Sea Transportation Service) carrying servicemen and their families. Sailors called it "more shit than service."

I think it was 1957, when my squadron was moved from Panama to its new home in Puerto Rico. And we traveled aboard a ship named the George W. Gothels, named for the man who built the Panama Canal. I did some research and found that it was a Liberty ship with the number 0599, when it was built.

If interested the best source is :American Merchant Marine at War, www.umm.org Every ship is listed there and a great deal of other information about Liberty ships.

An interesting fact I came across is that the engine room scenes in the film "Titanic," were filmed on a museum Liberty ship in San Francisco Bay.

I think the next time I fly to San Francisco, I will be sure to visit this ship.
          Aloha
          Grant  
 

That Old Machine

 
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          That Old Machine

"What's that old machine?"she said, pointing with her finger. "Is it an old computer?" "No, "
I said, "It is called a typewriter."

I learned how to type in my junior year of high school. It was tough to work stiff, cold fingers during those winter mornings when typing was first period. I never realized then how important being able to type was going to be in my future.

Following high school I joined the Navy, and it was there that I discovered I would be able to use my skill with the keys. After boot camp and assigned to a base, I spent my spare time reading. The time came for me to report to the USS Tarawa, an aircraft carrier. When I arrived, the ship was at sea, and it was on some hush hush secret mission. I found out later that it was a rocket launch to the moon.  Usually a sailor would be flown out to meet the ship.  But, not this time.  I was stuck in a transient barracks until my ship returned. But soon a master chief yelled, "Any you guys know how to type?"  It is almost a rule that you should never volunteer for anything.  But here was a way to avoid picking up cigarette butts, and other low, miserable chores."Yes, I called out, " I can type like the wind!"  I really could type 56 correct words a minute.

So until my ship returned I typed lesson plans for the guys who were teaching various aspects of the S2F anti-sub carrier aircraft. I made the guys happy, and I learned a whole lot about that aircraft. I   also had my weekends off.

After a time my ship returned and I served aboard until later when I was discharged, and went off to college.

Anyone who has ever been to college knows about term papers. I was again typing.  Following graduation and my first teaching job, I once again made lesson plans. There were also tests to be typed.

Next, it was graduate school and a Master's thesis to be typed. I think it was 40 pages, about a slave revolt.  Good true story, I should have published it.

There was typing again for another MA degree. This time it was for a seminary where I was enrolled. I summarized every book of the Bible. Whew!

I made the transition to computers, but I miss my old typewriter.  I want to mention watching linotype operators at their keyboards, typing words that came out in lead slugs for the evening newspaper. And while in the Navy watching and listening to the chatter of teletype machines. I still miss my typewriter. And here I am again typing.        

       Aloha
       Grant

Radio Memories

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          Radio Memories

This afternoon the radio filled the room with Franz Liszt's "Le Prelude," and the Lone Ranger and Tonto rode again across my brain. With it came memories of sprawling on the living room floor, being treated to another  exciting adventure.

One other program filling my radio world, was "Captain Midnight and the Secret Squadron," which would  send you secret messages, if you had sent for the plastic decoder.

I also had at my fingertips the "Firestone Hour," and the "Telephone Hour," which introduced me to the world of classical music. One weekly program of the greatest interest was "Your Hit Parade," sponsored by Lucky Strike cigarettes. Their slogan was the letters L.S.M.F.T. (Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco). The orchestra would play the number ten song of the week, and so on,with great gusto, leading to the next song, and then to the top number one song of the week!  It was all very exciting!

The first radio I knew about was a crystal radio. Copper wire wound around an empty oatmeal box with  a crystal detector and a wire cat whisker. An insulated copper wire antenna strung in the attic or in the yard, and a good ground was needed. Listening with earphones to voices and music from miles away. And if the clouds were low, the radio signal would skip, and stations from far way could be heard. Very exciting!

Then everything changed with the debut of the vacuum tube.  Radios were now seen every where. Even in automobiles. The "Walkie Talkies," hand held field phones, used by soldiers in WWII, contained vacuum tubes. I find it interesting that American soldiers held by the enemy in prison camps, managed to build radios in secret. Now they could  chart the progress of the war.

When your radio was not working properly,you could take your tubes to a store with a proper cabinet, and put them in the correct  spaces by yourself, and check to see if they were alright.  If not, you read the number on the bad tube, and replaced it with a good one from the drawers in the cabinet.  If this didn't work, you could take it to a radio shop to have it repaired.

And then came the transistor to replace the tube. Small, light in weight, and I haven't a clue how it works.  But it spelled the end of vacuum tubes.  I was given a transistor radio which would fit in my pocket. Very expensive gift costing forty bucks.

Then suddenly there were pictures to go along with sound. The first t.v. I ever saw was in the window of a radio shop. A small round screen in a large box, glowing black and white, watched by a number of people standing with me, outside on the sidewalk.

Another time a few years later, a number of my friends and I would be invited to a house to watch t.v. This house had a large bay window, and turning around in my seat I saw people outside looking through the window at television!

Television quickly became a matter of fact.  Antennas sprang up on roofs everywhere. Sociologists studying the effects television was having on people, found that even those who had no t.v. had an antenna on their roof. And you know the rest of the story.

       Aloha
       Grant

 

Methuselah

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           Methuselah

 Perhaps you may already know the terrible true story of Masada. In brief, it is the story of how a number of Jews revolted against Roman rule. They chose to make a last stand, atop a thousand foot cliff fortress named Masada. As a student of history I must resist to relate all the details. If interested just look it up.

One part of the story has become very important for us today. When the Roman ramp had almost reached the top, the Jews piled up all of their possessions in a warehouse, and set it on fire. The walls then collapsed on top of everything. Following this, they all committed suicide, rather than face Roman  slavery. Today Masada is one of the top sites for tourists visiting Israel.

The debris pile was left undisturbed for the next 2,000 years. But in 1960, archaeologists unearthed a large number of  ancient shekels, which made coin collectors very happy. In addition there was grain, salt, olive oil, wine, pomegranates and date palm seeds.

Dates were their most famous crop, mentioned in the Bible and the Koran. Some of the date seeds still had scraps of fruit on them.

The question was, would these ancient seeds still have any life in them? Surprise! The answer is yes! In 2005 a lone shoot was seen growing. Today the ten foot tall date palm tree named "Methuselah," has a gate around it with watering system, burglar alarm, and security camera. The tree was named for the oldest character in the Hebrew Bible. Other seeds are also now being tested, but the results are not yet released to the public.

So ancient seeds will sometimes grow. When there was a craze in Egypt during the 19th century for ancient Egyptian things, wise salesmen were selling "King Tut peas." I don't know if this was true, but it could have been, who knows?

We do know for a fact that seeds from a silk tree brought to London in 1793 sprouted when a German bomb hit a green house during during WWII.

Canna lily seeds from a 600 year old American rattle germinated. Botanists have been pushing back the record for seed longevity.

You may be interested to  learn that we have a seed storage vault located on the edge of the Colorado State University campus. Sometimes called the Doomsday Vault, it was built to withstand any kind of disaster. There is also a seed storage vault located in the Norwegian Arctic.

Work is continuing to adapt seeds to changing climate changes. The International Space Station carried basil seeds in the cold vacuum of space for a year, and they sprouted successfully.  

Why am I so interested in seeds? It is because of classes I had in botany at the University of Michigan way back in 1962.  I could go on and on, but your best bet if interested, is to read a new book "The Triumph of Seeds," by Thor Hanson. And all those coconuts we have here in Hawaii, are just big seeds.

         Aloha
         Grant

In Just a Minute

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          In Just a Minute

I was about to enter a contest, and mentioned to Teena that my mother used to enter many contests. She would often win small prizes, but one time she won a new Polaroid Land camera. This was a new marvel in photography, take a picture and it would be ready in a minute. Teena said that she saved enough money to purchase one for her parent's 12th wedding anniversary. The cameras were expensive.

As I remember, the camera worked this way: after snapping the picture, you opened the back of the camera and pulled a tab. This caused rollers to squeeze developing flu onto the exposed paper print. Next, you would wait impatiently, watching the sweep hand on your watch go around for one minute. At the end of one minute you pulled the paper print from the camera and coated it with a wide brush filled with goop which was probably hypo which would preserve the print. There you had it! A black and white print! With all to technical progress, the Polaroid Land Camera faded in to photograph history, but in its day it was a wonder.

         Aloha
         Grant  

Marlene's Story

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          Marlene's Story

This story rightly belongs to Marlene, who told it to my wife and I. Although it is a family story, it is also an important bit of history, which otherwise would be forgotten.

The year was 1944, and Ray's plane a B-24 called Shackrabbit, had been shot down over Nuremberg, Germany, and he was listed as missing in action. His brother, Ted, was soon to leave with his B-17 to the air war over Germany.

Ted and Ray's mother, Frances Rae, father, Walter, and sister Marlene were determined to see him  before he left. He was stationed at Pyote, Texas. That was a long way from home in Michigan. Everything was rationed, including sugar, meat, gasoline, and auto tires. Friends and family chipped in with gas and ration coupons, and cousin Judd put his car up on blocks, letting them use his tires so that there would be good tires for the trip to Texas.

To hear Marlene tell the story brings tears to your eyes. They packed peanut and jelly sandwiches for the trip in an empty shoe box, because they did not have to keep them cold.

 But it was such a long way to Texas, and money was tight. Marlene did not give any details of the journey.

When they arrived at last, it was during a sandstorm. They were told they could sleep in an Army guest quarters, and when they pulled back the covers, the sheets were full of sand.

They were united with Ted, and given a tour of a B-17 bomber. The events end here with Marlene's story. But I do know that Ted's brother Ray, was killed, and Ted survived the missions his plane flew.

This was all so long ago, and it is only a small piece of the puzzle of WWII. The events which took place here, were repeated time after time all over America. Thank you, Marlene, for sharing your story with us.

       Aloha
       Grant  

Duck Tale

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              Duck Tale

I like duck. And so on a whim I bought a frozen duck. It was beautiful. By that I mean that I didn't have to sit in a blind freezing my butt off, and blowing a duck call. There were no feathers to pull off, no insides to be removed. There it was, clean and frozen solid. It was about then that I decided to make a memorial Sunday dinner. A  dinner we would always remember.

I have been cooking for many years, but this time I wanted to do something special.So I consulted Julia Child's "Mastering the Art   of French Cooking." There I found a recipe for duck stuffed with sausage and apples. It sounded good, and I had most of the ingredients. Three items had to be purchased.

I set to work. The duck thawed in a sink full of water. I browned the sausage, and then lightly browned the apple slices in the remaining fat. Next,Julia told me to place the sliced apples on a platter and sprinkle  a mixture sage, cinnamon, salt, sugar over all. Then I was directed to sprinkle two tablespoons of Cognac over all. This was beginning to look pretty good. The Cognac was another of the items that had to be bought, the other two were Port wine, and sausage.

After the sausage had cooled, I was told to pour a reduction of Port and beef broth over it. Next I was to delicately mix the apples and sausage, and place the stuffing in the duck. So far, so good. The duck was roasted for an hour and a half. I sliced the bird, mashed the potatoes, nuked the peas, grabbed the salad and we were ready to eat.

We had a guest for dinner Pete, a WWII vet. We all sat down and then came a crash from the kitchen. Teena took off to find out what had happened. I never visited the scene of the crime, but she told us later about the event. Our white, fluffy dog Mai Tai, had jumped up to the kitchen counter and seized the duck carcass. There was a struggle, the carcass went down the trash chute, the dog to his prison. There was duck grease everywhere. She was a long time cleaning up the mess, and her dinner got cold. And frankly, I don't think that after all that work, it wasn't worth the trouble. Sorry Julia.

I wanted a dinner to be remembered and I got it. I was reminded of the short story and movie "A Christmas Story." I'm sure you have seen it. Remember how the father in the story didn't have turkey for dinner as the neighbor's dogs ran off with the bird. And, what did they end up having for dinner at a Chinese restaurant, duck!

      Aloha
      Grant  

Texas Remembered

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           Texas Remembered

I will never know why my parents decided to sell our house and move to Texas. But what I think must have happened, was that my father had been taking college classes on the G.I. bill, in the hastily-built barracks, after the fire had destroyed the old brick buildings of the college.  Maybe the program of studies were not to his liking. Or maybe it was simply his desire to see Texas. The destination was to be the small town of San Marcos, the home of Texas State Teacher's College. Was it my father's plan to become a teacher? I will never know.

Our large old house on the corner across from the Methodist Church was sold, and we had an auction. I will long remember that my ten foot toboggan went for twenty-five cents. But, what would I have used it for in Texas?

Our pre-war Packard car was soon replaced by a 1940 Chevrolet, equipped with over-load springs, electric brakes, and a heavy-duty trailer hitch.

We had a house trailer for our new home. Today, we call them mobile homes. Ours was twenty-something feet long and was without a bathroom. At that time it was understood that you used the bath facilities at a trailer park, or at a friendly gas station. Inside, the trailer there was a sink and cupboards on one wall, and seats. On the opposite side there were seats. At the far end where you entered, there was a long seat that made into a bed. At the other end of the trailer was a bedroom. Windows were on each side, and front and rear. That was it. It wasn't far from the idea for a mobile home in the 1920's when it was called a "House Car," and you built it yourself on a  truck frame.

My father cursed all the way to Texas. The trailer was heavy, and difficult to pull. We spent some nights next to gas stations, sometimes a trailer camp.

Upon arriving in San Marcos, we took up living in Rio Vista Trailer Park, on the Brazos River. There was a communal shower and laundry for all the residents.

And I went to school. I think I was in either the fifth or sixth grade. I rode the bus to school in the morning, but walked home with some of the other kids. On the way we would often find an armadillo, which we would use as a football, and kick it all the way home.

School was very different from what I had been used to. You could go there in your bare feet. I was often called "Damn Yankee," and there were a few fights. There was a popcorn machine and candy machine in the lobby. I thought my classmates were really stupid, as they couldn't name the Great Lakes. I had a brief crush on a girl whose name was Juanita, and I pronounced her name all wrong. How was I to know that her name was spelled with a the letter J. That was my first brush with Spanish. But things got better when I fell in love with my Spanish teacher Mrs. Schultz.

In addition to the usual subjects, we were taught square dances. I remember that we did the "Grapevine Twist, "Put Your Little Foot, "Virginia Reel," "Texas Star," and many others. I also learned and sang "The Eyes of Texas Are Upon You."

At the end of the school year there was picnic at the park with swimming in the Brazos River. I couldn't swim, but managed to keep my head above the water. A water moccasin snake swam with us, until a couple of boys chased it ashore, put on their cowboy boots, and stomped it to death.

My parents soon grew tired of trailer life, sold it, and rented an apartment in town. I had my own room with a balcony.

A guy my father knew, had a job caring for horses outside of town. Sometimes he would take me with him. He was surprised that I had not learned to drive. He taught me to shoot jack rabbits out of the window of the pick-up. That was great fun. I remember too, cow horns all around the loading shuts next to the rail siding. The cattle had their horns sawn-off to prevent injury during the long journey to the stock yards.

Our stay in Texas was not very long. Why we left to return to Michigan, I have no answer.
           Aloha
           Grant
     

World War II Chinatown

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       World War II Chinatown

I enjoy taking the bus to Chinatown. Some of the sidewalks are paved with large square blocks that were used as ballast in sailing ships. The old buildings, shops, bars, and fresh tropical produce I find interesting.   Some very fine restaurants are located there also.

I sometimes think of the many brothels that used to be located there. For prostitution was legal, as there were 375 servicemen in Honolulu for every woman. The police kept a blind eye on the situation in Chinatown.

 Big money was made by madams,$150,000 a year (now about $2million). Prostitutes earned $25,000 ($350,000 today.) They could not have a steady boyfriend, own a car, go to golf courses, or ride a bicycle. These women also paid income tax and bought war bonds.
 
I often think as I stroll these streets about all the young, lonely men who were going to war, and to die somewhere in the Pacific, without ever having known the love of a woman. It's all so very sad.

     Aloha
     Grant

The facts and figures I stole from a recent story in our local paper by Cheryl Chee Tsutsumi.

Left-handed Ball Glove

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      Left-handed Ball Glove

On the wall in one bedroom hangs a shadow box, containing an old baseball glove under glass. It has the name "Eddie Waitkus," stamped on it. It is my sixth-grade ball glove.Teena brought it to Hawaii,without my knowing it. I am very glad she did.

A couple of days ago on a sudden impulse, I decided to do some research, and find out who this ballplayer was. I was greatly surprised to learn that he was the player who was the subject of Bernard Malamud's book, "The Natural," published in 1952. A movie by the same name with Robert Redford and Glenn Close came out in 1989.

Eddie Waitkus played first base for the Cubs and the Phillies in the National League. And with the Orioles in the American League. He had an 11 year career. He threw both left and batted left too. He wrote poetry and spoke four languages. As a rookie he was called "the natural." He saw bitter combat against the Japanese in the Philippines.

When he returned to the Cubs he was hitting .300, and being stalked by an obsessed 19 year old girl named Ruth Ann Steomhagen. When he was traded to the Phillies, she could only see him eleven times a season. So she planned to kill him in 1949. She lured him to a room in the Edgewater Beach Hotel in Chicago, and shot him in the chest with a.22 caliber rifle. When she was discovered, she was holding his head in her lap.

Eddie had four operations to try and remove the bullet which was near his heart. He did recover, and she spent three years in a mental institution. She dropped out of sight and died at age 83 in Chicago.

In his later years he had a failed marriage, and began drinking, troubled by his history in combat and being shot. After he left the majors, he taught at Ted Williams Baseball Camp. He died of cancer in 1972, at age 53.

I remember well how I came to have my glove. We used to play ball in a vacant lot and I had to borrow some kid's glove. I had difficulty fielding the ball, pulling off the glove, switching the ball to my left hand, and throwing the ball. I really needed a left-handed glove. My mother took pity on me and bought me the glove in the shadow box.

        Aloha
        Grant

Old Poems Written Years Ago

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      Old Poems Written Years Ago
               Ice Man
     " When were refrigerators invented,?                  she asked.
        Suddenly you remember
            the ice box.
        Every time you had to empty
           the drip pan
          it was always
          over-flowing.
      Water usually spilled
 in the middle of the kitchen floor
         on the way to the
             sink
   "And what about the ice man?"
           she asked.
     We would stand around
           waiting
     as he took the steel tongs
      carried the ice block
        to the house.
     Now was our chance
    to see if there were
      any ice chips
     he couldn't use.

            Henry Ford

     Nearly everyone by now        
  has heard how Henry Ford said
     you could have every
         color
    car you wanted
   as long as it was
        black
   But did you know
     the paint
 contained soybean oil?
    Many farmers
    soon discovered
 not to park their cars
   anywhere near a
       cow
 or it would lick off
     all the
     paint

     
                Black
        He was big and he was
              Black
       when he walked into the
            restaurant
            in Georgia
           that morning
         The waitress  said
      "What will you have sir?"            
            Nobody
        even looked up
       from their plates
    "What will you have sir?"
    "I will have a big plate
         of freedom
        and respect"

     Aloha
    Grant

Things Happening in Hawaii

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     Things Happening in Hawaii

Our mayor has seemed to have spent 1.5 million for some "experts" from New York to tell us what needs to be done to our Ala Moana Beach Park. For any of you who have visited Honolulu, it is the very long park alongside the drive into Waikiki. It is called the "People's Park", by the locals.  It has a beautiful beach, tennis courts, lawn bowling court and a pavilion for events such as the annual Greek and Scottish festivals. Local people come to swim, picnic etc.

I attended a meeting with some 150 others who heard the mayor and his "experts." The mayor wants to build a restaurant. We are strongly opposed, people come here to picnic. These "experts" may have done wonders with Battery Park in N,Y., but their ideas do not relate to Hawaii.

We know what needs to be done. Fix and clean up the restrooms. And that wouldn't cost 1.5 million. We gave them an earful. We will just have to wait and see what happens.

In other news. There is quite some opposition to the building of the 30 meter telescope on the summit of Mauna Kea,on the Big Island of Hawaii. When finished it is supposed to be the largest telescope in the world. But I have also read that there is supposed to be a 31 meter telescope being built in Chile. Some protesters with the Hawaiian flag have halted the start of construction. They claim the mountain is sacred. Some students from the  University of Hawaii have walked out in protest. Our governor has called for a thirty day "cooling off" period. I should also note that there are already several telescopes up there. I saw them myself (altitude 13,400 ft.) The very best answer to the problem came from the master navigator with the Polynesian Voyaging Society, as quoted in the local paper:  "As a Hawaiian, I recognize I am a descendant of some of the best naked-eye astronomers the world has known. It is culturally consistent to advocate for Hawaiian participation in a field of science that continues to enable that tradition and a field in which we ought to lead."
I think the telescope will be built, there is just so much money already invested in the project, as well as cultural preservation studies performed.  Many Hawaiians agree.

And now on a lighter note. Crews are topping the tops of the coconut tree along the Ala Wai Canal. A coconut tree hitting your head could ruin your day. A cop I was talking to as he was merely writing tickets on cars, for not having removed them as requested, said " More people are killed by falling coconuts than die from shark bites."

      Aloha
      Grant

Springtime in Honolulu

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       Springtime in Honolulu

Yes, we have Spring here in Hawaii too. The signs of change are many.  First, the Humpback Whales depart for Alaska with their calves, a distance of 3,000 miles. And, so no more whale watching after that. Also, another long distance visitor leaving is the Golden Plover bird. This small bird flies 3,000 miles non-stop, in three days to the mainland. And they always return to the same places in Hawaii.

Then there are the "SnowBirds" from the mainland, Canada, and Australia. Many of these visitors have come to escape the weather back home, and live here for the winter months. Many rent the same condos year after year, or own their own lodgings. So like the whales and the Golden Plover, they too leave Hawaii.

There are other signs of Spring. The plumeria trees are in bloom with their wonderful fragrance. And the Monkey Pod tree makes its debut. Monkey Pod wood is a mixture of both dark and light wood, and when turned on a lathe, produces beautiful bowls and trays. But, the tree at this time of year drops pods on the sidewalks. The pods range in size from four to six inches long, and are sticky. They remind me of those sticky dates you buy at Christmas. Nasty stuff on your shoes. Teena's uncle Pat, (who was Hawaiian) said that they used to coat their feet with the sap and walk around on tin cans. He never said how they got the sticky stuff off of their feet. I don't know what it is used for, but I think  the Hawaiians found some use for it. As for me, I avoid monkey pods on the sidewalks like the plague.

And here as elsewhere, baseball season begins. I wrote on my blog earlier, a short story called "Opening Day." It's pretty funny. Check it out.

And, at last I am reminded of a "Burma Shave" sign from a long ago series of roadside signs, "Spring has sprung, the grass has riz, where last year's careless driver is."

       Aloha
       Grant

Simply Corn

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            Simply Corn
Everything can, and does grow here in Hawaii. And very few species are native. Corn is one of those plants that was brought here.

I recently went up to the North Shore at the top of our island of Oahu, with my friend Ray in  his jeep. We stopped, and I bought some sweet corn. This is called Kuhuku corn and the ears are small,six to eight inches long, and a cob no bigger than your thumb.   Six trimmed ears in a gallon bag for $10.00. Very expensive, and these were tough. I was very upset. I remember back in the 1970's when I was farming for market. I received $2.00 wholesale for a burlap bag (gunny sack) of five dozen. I soon got wise and went retail and was paid $2.00 a dozen. That was more like it. Here in Honolulu a single ear of corn can cost 89cents an ear! I should also note that the orientals and Hawaiians trim the top of each ear and it  dries out. Oh well.

I once grew acres of sweet corn. If you could bring sweet corn to market by the 4th of July you could really make some money. This did not happen often due to the changing Michigan weather. Also, bags of sweet corn in a loaded truck can heat. So you pick it late and leave early for market.

Just for the hell of it I grew some Incan corn which is colored red,blue and yellow. It is often used for fall decorations. I also planted some Indian popcorn, small blue colored ears. I also planted some Zulu maize from South Africa. Ears half the length of your arm, with each kernel the size of a thumb nail, and as round as a hand grenade. This was not sweet corn, but was meant to be ground for meal.

In the 19th century farmers would select some of their best ears of field corn to be used for planting in the spring. The ears would be stuck of spikes of an iron rod, made by a blacksmith, and hung up high away from rats. When spring came, the corn would be  put through a hand-cranked sheller which tore the corn from the cob, and the kernels would fall in a basket or box. The clean cob would come out the other end. This was all open pollinated corn. You can't do this with today's hybrid corn.

Corn meal is often ground on a stone slab with another stone, or the kernels are pounded. This is still done in some parts of the world. I bought a Molina hand mill, which is used throughout South America. It looks just like a hand cranked food mill except it has burrs that come together and grind the kernels as they are fed into the top of the mill. It produces fine corn meal and when used with wheat, fine flour too. The mill was taken to an elementary class and the kids ground some corn, and then made muffins. A big hit!

I could go on and write about corn planters and how they work, hunger signs in corn plants etc. But I doubt that city people are much interested this stuff. Anyway, this is enough for now.

      Aloha
      Grant
   

Come Onna My House

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          Come Onna My House
My house is bigger than your house. My house stands 38 stories high, in a  graceful gentle S-shape. There is a large lanai for each of the 407 units, total population of which can accommodate some 900 residents. The building is one of the very few which has one side open to the elements. Sunshine, rain or whatever. Enclosed  hallways always remind me of a "Motel Six."

Below my home is a shallow pond, referred to as a lake. Once, the lake was stocked with a number of Koi, the Asian carp which has so many colors. But, they were accidentally killed when attempts to control algae were made. We had a pair of swans too, but they have passed away. But, we do have a quantity of wild ducks. They arrive, lay eggs, rear their ducklings, and drive some people living on the lower floors simply crazy. Quack, quack, quack. We are not bothered as we live on the 30th floor.

There is a small tea house in the center of the lake for those who wish to use it. Trees and flowers are nicely sited around the lake. There is also a high concrete wall and a iron fence to enclose the property. To see how beautiful our home is, look it us on the internet.

My wife Tonto, thought that getting me to move into a condo would be difficult. But not so, as I don't miss shoveling snow, ice -frozen paper boxes, heating and cooling bills, and all the rest. I don't have to drag garbage cans out to the street, and the morning paper is found just outside our door.

Inside our home, once you pass the guard shack, and through the key door there is the manager's office. The lobby is furnished with chairs, and a door leading to the garden lake.

Walking down a few steps you find the library, maintenance shop, mail boxes. and locker rooms. Up on the right is a waterfall with some koi in a pond. Also, a couple of palm trees.

Every apartment has a large closet locker for suitcases, golf clubs etc. There are also assigned parking spaces.

As you continue ahead there are elevators on both sides of the hall. The elevators on the left run only up to the 20th floor,those on the right run up to the penthouses.

The 407 apartments range in size from a one bedroom, a two bedroom,a three bedroom, and of course three floors of penthouses. For each bedroom there is a bath. Some residents choose to install air-conditioning, while others use ceiling fans, and an always open door to the lanai.

Some special features besides our library are the swimming pool, tennis court, recreation area for parties, squash court, puttingu green and driving net, fitness center, saunas for both sexes, and an exercise area for dogs. We are one of the "pet friendly" condos. And so, we have a large number of dogs or all sizes, a few cats, and I know of one rabbit.

Famous people have made the Waipuna their home. Julia Child once lived here. Also the late Senator Dan Inouye lived in one of the penthouse suites. Currently there are t.v. personalities,owners of local restaurants, etc. We are now seeing Japanese families, and other ethnic groups with children.

We have a small group of men, and one woman who work very hard to maintain our home. Most of them are Filipino.

We can rest easy at night because the building has guards who control the gate, entry door, and patrol the halls at night.

With all that I have said, surely you must ask about problems in condo living. The main problem is the lack of storage space. There is always too much stuff. You will find under beds, beach chairs and canned goods. When all of our food comes to us on large pallets, and some things are hard to get, you buy more than you can use. This leads to a storage problem. And, many of us are collectors of stuff.

Problems? Sure, with some 900 people living here, you would expect it. One of the big problems concerns the trash room on each floor. There is a trash chute for bagged garbage, a large barrel for cans and bottles, and a box for newspapers. And, on  the door is a large sign telling people to take large cardboard boxes etc. down to the dumpsters on the main floor. Do all people do this? No, they are too lazy to comply,and simply leave them in the trashroom when no one is looking. Inside the trashroom itself are directions given in English, Japanese, Chinese, and Korean, where to put each item of trash. Is it done? Are you kidding? People sometimes are just plain lazy.

A couple of other problems relate to our lanais. People who smoke throw their butts over the side, only to sometimes land on the lanai below. Carpets have been burned as well as stuffed chairs. And, there is the problem of people making a fuss on their lanai after 10 p.m., which is the time to quiet down so people can sleep.

Two other major problems are people who drive in the parking garage too fast, and without their lights on. There are signs everywhere. And the second is about tailgating. This is when a resident allows someone to follow them into the building. You must have a key, or phone from outside and the host resident lets the guest in. This is a secure building.

Other than these few mentioned problems,life in this building is very good.I will never again pick up a snow shovel.  
           Aloha
           Grant

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

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       A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
I just read a most interesting book "When Books Went to War" by Molly Nuptial Manning. It tells how paperback books were printed small-size for U.S. servicemen during the war. I have written about this earlier on my blog. What really interested me most was why "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,"by Betty Smith, was the most popular sought after book.  I had seen the hard cover edition many times, but never read it. I just finished the book in a new paper limited edition. And, I think I now know why it was so popular.

The book details life as it was lived in the tenements of Brooklyn just before World War I. The characters you get to know are very poor Irish immigrants. They were often hungry.  When the servicemen read this, many of them were living the the depths of the Great Depression . They too had known hunger.

The characters in the book realized that the way up and out of the tenements was to get an education. The service men during WWII were as a whole, poorly educated. Many never graduated from the eighth grade, much less high school or college.  There was such a strong desire to become better educated by the characters in the book. Those G.I.s could identify. They had been prevented from advancing their education for the very same reasons, poverty and opportunity.

After the war many G.I.s eagerly embraced the first G.I. Bill of Rights, which made it possible for them to go to school at government expense. I know this as a fact,  because my father was one of those men, and he earned a college degree. Also, two G.Is who rented two rooms in our house, were also attending college.

The buildings of the college in our small town had burned sometime during the war. But no matter, as classes were conducted in military barracks. I always thought how ironic it was for these men who had lived in barracks, to now attending classes in similar barracks. My mother was proud to have been one of the teachers.

I think the theme of the book could be "Hope through education." It worked for the heroine in the book, it worked for the G.I.s then, and for those of Korea and Vietnam. It also worked for my MA degree. And it continues to do so with current veterans.

      Aloha
      Grant

Thoughts About World War I

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      Thoughts About World War I
I have been reading a lot about WWI lately, and have learned much more than I had known previously. For instance, did you know that during WWI,Britain was drafting men from ages 18 to 40, and then the required number rose from age 15 to 50! And by 1918, half of the British infantry was under age 19! A British soldier in the trenches of France would often only last six weeks before being killed or wounded.A  million young men died, and  Britain was left with a million widows  without men to marry. I remember when I was in the Navy stationed in Panama, a ship full of women from England arrived to transit the canal. They were all going  to Australia or New Zealand to find husbands. This was after WWII. Both wars had stolen their chances to wed and have children.  

I heard today on the radio that it was the anniversary birthday of Mickey Spillane, the crime novel writer. How well I remember him. His first crime novel came out in 1947, and caused a sensation. The title of the  paperback novel was "I the Jury," and had a cover showing a young woman in act of disrobing. My father had a copy of the book and I read it too. I will always remember the final scene when Mike Hammer shoots the girl in the stomach. She ask him" Why?," and he replies "It was easy." Some critics said his books were garbage, but Micky Spillane said that they were "good garbage." He also said that his books were the "chewing gum" of American literature.

But getting back to the subject of the"Great War," Two great books to come out of that war I think, are "Goodby to All That," by Robert Graves, and Erich Maria Remarque's "All Quiet on the Western Front." I had my students read Hemingway's "A Farewell to Arms," but I doubt that they could grasp what it was all about. I think that the final scene where Catherine dies, and he walks out into the rain, is one of his best. Students of the war should read the poetry of the war, Wilfred Owen, Siegfried Sasson,  John McCrae, Robert Service and others. There is a lot to be learned from reading them.

There is a public radio request show here in Honolulu on Sunday morning. Some guy always requests the Kipling poem "Mandalay," as sung by Kenneth McKeller. Fine poem by Kipling, I memorized it in high school. But though the song is good, it omits the part in the poem where a Briitsh soldier talks about how he is treated back in England,and  though he walks with fifty housemaids, beefy faced and grubby, he has a girl back East in a sweeter greener land. A severely edited song, and it is driving me crazy, Cannot the record be broken or lost?

     Aloha
     Grant

Primo Popcorn

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          Primo Popcorn
An article in today's paper caught my eye, and I would like to share it with you. Primo is a long-time Hawaiian beer, but this has nothing to do with beer. A man here named Rylen Sato has created a frozen popcorn treat called Primo Popcorn. The popcorn is flash-frozen at minus 321.07 degrees Fahrenheit.The frozen popcorn treat is called 77K-on. It melts in your mouth and the vapor that comes out of your mouth and nose makes you look like a dragon. It will make its public debut this weekend. The popcorn comes in different flavors and costs $3.00 for a cup, and $5.00 for chocolate and flavors. I think this guy will soon become a millionaire. Probably the idea will soon reach the mainland.

Reading this article I was suddenly reminded of a summer job I once had, and it had to do with cold treats.

The local dairy in our town had a three-wheel bicycle with a large ice chest in front, and a seat in the rear. The chest would be supplied with popsicles,ice-cream bars, fudge bars and flat slabs of dry ice to keep everything from melting . I knew when the local factory had lunch, and it  was always good for several sales. I hung around the town swimming pool for many sales. At the end of a hot summer day, I would have sold about $11.00 worth of cold treats. My share was probably less than two dollars. I liked Orange coated ice cream bars. They must have cost ten cents, as pop sickles were five cents and could be broken in half and shared with a friend. A cool summer job. My paper route only paid me $5.00 a week. This job must have come to an end with the arrival of Dairy Queen.

      Aloha
      Grant