Friday, December 26, 2014

Now Christmas Past


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         Now Christmas Past
All the gifts have been opened, the wrappings have been put in the trash. No more Christmas carols on the radio and t.v. The tree is taken down and its decorations put away until next year. The same things are done here as everywhere else.

Thinking back, I remember at this time of year my friends and I would roam the neighborhood looking for Christmas trees that had been thrown out. Some trees still had tinsel icicles left on them. When very carefully removed and placed over your hand, they could be put on a bit of cardboard, to be used next Christmas.

Real icicles hung from the roofs of many houses. These icicles were refreshing, but lacking of any flavor. New ice skates would be tried out, but if not, old high top women's figure skates with soft sides, bought at the Salvation Army store for $2.00 would have to do. No ankle support, resulting in very sore ankles.

If Santa had brought you a new sled, so much the better. If not, you could always slide down snow packed hills, seated on a coal shovel, or with a bit of cardboard or some linoleum.

You could lie down in the snow and move your hands and feet, making a snow angel. A wide circle could be tramped in the snow and divided into four parts, for a game of "Fox and Geese."

Snow forts and igloos were built and knocked down. There was always the idea to freeze snowballs to be used in summer. But none of my friends knew anybody who owned  a deep freeze, with extra room they were not  using. So the idea became only a memory.

We were all outdoor kids in those days, many with sore ankles, cold feet, and red faces.
After Christmas, winter seemed to go on forever.

         Aloha
         Grant

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Honolulu Doings


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          Honolulu Doings
The days are rushing us towards Christmas. Tonto set up the Christmas tree as usual, but a couple of days later it came down with a crash. Too many ornaments on one side. All is well again.

Tonto was given a breadfruit from a friend at her yoga class. I hadn't prepared one for a long time. Breadfruit is about the same size as a melon. One way to fix it is to boil it until it splits. Scoop out the seeds in the center, remove the outside skin, mash, and add butter. It is better than mashed potatoes. First tasters agreed.  This is the plant Capt. Bligh was to bring back from Tahiti, in order to be planted in the Caribbean, to feed slaves.  After the mutiny, breadfruit was introduced, and the slaves refused to eat it. It was not part of their diet.

Honolulu continues to amaze. We have friends Bernard and Mary. He is Filipino, she is Vietnamese. Mary's name in Vietnamese is, Thuy, pronounced "Twee".  I have fun saying "One Two Twee." She has two brothers, Nghi, pronounced  "Nee", and Huy, pronounced "Whee".  Wonderful people, with the most adorable son, Bernardo, almost 2.  They were our very first friends when we moved here 10 1/2 years ago.  They moved to Tennessee and then came back!

Speaking of names.  We were eating at a new Mexican restaurant the other night, and the server made guacamole at our table. Someone asked if he was from Mexico.  He said, "I'm from Micronesia." It figures, I had just finished lawn bowling with a woman who was from Switzerland.

Big holiday plans. We went  with a group of our friends to the annual trolley ride around the city to view the Christmas lights.  Many Christmas parties too, we will be busy.

We took a tour to see the decorations at Washington Place, built in the 1840's and the former home of Hawaii's queen. While there, we heard the choir from St. Andrews Cathedral, and by accident, sat with our newly-elected Governor Ige and his children.  I wished him well, as his is a big job.

President Obama and his family have arrived to enjoy Christmas and the great weather.

We wish you all a very Merry Christmas from the land where palm trees sway.  Mele Kalikimaka!
          Aloha
          Grant

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

A Christmas Story


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         A Christmas Story
The following is a Christmas story I wrote several years ago. I always felt that it should be published. When we first moved here I entered the story in a contest being held by our local newspaper. Of course I didn't even gain any mention. I was so naive. The story should have had a Hawaiian theme. What did people here know about snow? Anyway here it is, and at least I will know that the story will be there somewhere in the internet cloud.
            One Other Christmas

"I'll bet you, you can't." "I'll bet you I can." "Can't." "Can too." Three snowballs flew across the street and spattered on the building. The target of the three snowballs was a three story painting of a giant on the wall of the Super Giant Supermarket. More specifically, the genitals of the giant. "Told  you so!"

It was December, 1946, and we were on our way home from school. My two best friends who were with me were Dave and Richard. Dave was wearing his usual gray fur hat with ear flaps, which I always thought made him look silly, but I never dared to say so. He had on his motorcycle boots which he always wore, winter or summer. I enjoyed seeing him run through the deep snow. Rich, on the other hand, was without any outstanding features. He was wearing a knit stocking cap, the same as me. He was very blonde, and Dave had dark hair with bushy eyebrows.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Rich asked."I want a gun," Dave said. He could probably have a gun, as his father owned a dress store and had a farm outside of town too. Rich wanted a bicycle, and I wanted a chemistry set. It was just wishful thinking on my part. I knew that there wasn't a chance in a million of getting a chemistry set. Rich's father was Superintendent of schools. My father was going to college on the G.I. Bill, and working for Jim, the Greek at his shoe repair shop. My mother was teaching school. I had been reminded many times that money was tight, and not to expect much.The whole household had been told many times over, about a chemistry set.
At the end of the block, we parted company with a few friendly snowballs thrown at each other.

My house was just a block from downtown and the Super Giant Supermarket. It stood on the corner across from the Methodist Church and Rogers Funeral Home. Next door was the home of a dentist. Between both houses was an old brick sided well with with lattice sides.

Our house was an old two story with a front porch, and in winter there was a small enclosure which was designed to help keep out the cold when the front door was opened. I thought it looked like a fishing shanty. Attached to the rear of the house was a long shed. It was one of those features you sometimes still see in houses in New England.This shed was meant to be a place for a horse, his feed and wagon, and wood for the kitchen stove.

Inside the house were some wonderful features. There were large double doors leading to a room which had once been the parlor. In the dining room there was a corner china cabinet, and behind a door in the wall was a dumb waiter. A dumb waiter was a small elevator which in the days before refrigeration, food could be sent down into the basement to be kept cool. A trap door in the dining room floor led down into the stone-walled basement. The kitchen had numerous cupboards.

A steep set of stairs led to several rooms above. My parents rented two of these rooms to two G.I. students. I thought it was odd that they slept on wood surplus army beds. The also used the single bathroom located off the kitchen, and they took their meals out. Friday nights however, there was always a gathering of these men and some of their friends. My mother would have baked a cake, and cards were played. It was then that I heard war stories and risqué jokes.

But now, getting back to the business of the chemistry set. My sister become sick and the doctor was called. I didn't understand what the doctor meant when he said that we would have to be quarantined. But I soon learned, when a man from the County Health Department arrived and tacked a red sign on the front door. It was Scarlet Fever. Not to be able to go out to see my friends! Missing school was no hardship. The absolute worst thing about being quarantined was that there was no way to get presents. How can you shop when you couldn't leave the house? This was the richest time of year for presents. Only recently I had visited the dump behind the "Gamble" store, and rescued two boats they couldn't use. The big plastic one needed a wind-up key, but pliers worked just fine. The other small boat made circuits around the bathtub powered by baking soda and vinegar.

The enforced isolation continued for some time, broken only by paper bags of groceries left outside the front door, and the arrival of the mail. I amused myself by putting Mike,our cat in the dumb waiter, and sending him up and down to the basement. When he escaped, I built frontier forts of Lincoln Logs, or played with lead soldiers.These I had cast into molds from a coffee can on the kitchen stove. The living room had a large book case and so I spent hours reading and listening to the radio. "Captain Midnight and the Secret Squadron" sent messages I could decode with the decoder my mother had sent for. The "Lone Ranger" was always exciting.

A Christmas tree was delivered and set up. My parents decided that it should be strung with blue lights. I disagreed, and would have preferred many colored lights. Once the tree was set up, I began to despair even more.

Then as it always does, it was Christmas eve. My parents belonged to the school that said it was alright to open presents on Christmas eve. I agreed totally! The wide wood doors were shut while Santa set about his work. After what seemed an eternity, the doors were swung open, and there under the blue lighted tree was a" Gilbert" metal,blue painted chemistry set! With a nod towards my sister's new doll, I began a minute investigation of the contents of the blue cabinet, with its many bottles and test tubes. It became a Christmas to remember. I learned years later that those two G.I. boarders had bought the chemistry set and my sister's doll.
              End
     Aloha and Mele Kalikimaka

             Grant

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Talking Turkey


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          Talking Turkey
Let's talk turkey. I like turkey cooked in almost any form. I have long had a love affair with this bird. Ben Franklin suggested that the turkey should have been our national symbol, as eagles were so used by other countries, and were war-like.  Besides, who would like to eat roast eagle anyway? As we all know Ben lost his argument.

I raised some turkeys years ago. It was said that you couldn't raise turkeys and chickens together, but I did with no problems. There was also an old saying that turkeys left out in the rain would open their mouths and drown. I chose to raise Bronze Breasted birds, instead of the usual white breed grown by large turkey farms.

I remember one time when I was cooking Wednesday night dinners at our church, I roasted 19 turkeys! It was no easy task. I used the stoves in the church and borrowed roaster ovens for the rest. I had circuit breakers popping all over the place. I carved all the birds and fed, I think, 200 people.

Another time I took a big frozen turkey along with stuffing mix, celery, onions, potatoes, butter, flour and an electric roaster on a summer boating trip.

At the Western end of Lake Erie are some islands. The most popular is South Bass Island. It is here that boaters go to drink and raise hell. It was there that I cooked my turkey. The bird was nicely done while tied up to the dock. I mashed potatoes with a beer bottle. So there we all sat in our bathing suits, enjoying a turkey dinner. This event was discussed for some time later by other sailors.

And, not so long ago I read that "White Castle" burgers would make a good stuffing for turkey. So accepting this novel idea, I removed the cheese and pickle. The buns and onions on the burgers were mixed with celery more onions and fat-free chicken broth. The result was very good.  

Here in Honolulu frozen birds arrive by ship. And they are very cheap. Some birds can be had for as little as $5.00. And that is not by the pound either. Another good price is often $.59 per pound. Our bird this year was free! Safeway Supermarket would give you a free bird if you spent $100. That was easy to do. We chose a 21 lb. bird. We will have a number of friends who will help us eat this big fellow.

This Thanksgiving we all have a great deal to be thankful for.

        Aloha
        Grant

Friday, October 31, 2014

Trick or Treat

 
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          Trick or Treat
Halloween is a very big deal here in Hawaii. It's maybe more important than Christmas, what with our Asian population. Many of our friends make it a point to walk down Kalakaua Ave. just to look at all the crazy people. Stores here are filled with costumes and all the other stuff. In our condo, residents donate candy which is handed out to the kids by the guards in the front of the building.

Thinking back to the events of Halloween in my past, this is the way it was: It was only the second time you were sure to get candy, the other being Christmas. First you armed yourself with a large bag or gunny sack, and a bar of soap. The "Fels Naptha" laundry brand was favored because it was a large bar. The use of canning wax was not used because we knew it was much harder to remove from window glass. Costumes cost money so a ten cent mask such as the Lone Ranger wore was fine. Larger masks costing not much more were worn, but as they were constructed of gauze, they would get wet around your mouth. There were many hobos that night. Costume problem easily solved.

You began your hunt was early as possible so as to cover as much of the town before it grew too late. People handed out the usual candy, but sometimes home made popcorn balls and apples.

The evening found all the store windows covered with soap, and as there were some outside toilets, they were pushed over.
One time an outhouse was moved to the center of town and placed under the stop light.
None of us had to fear of needles in our candy, or the purity of popcorn balls.

       Aloha
       Grant
 

Mai Times


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  Mai Times "aka Mr. Fuzzy" Vol.1 no.3?

Vet Perplexed  p.3
Stool sample required.
Mai Tai's was green.
Later traced to pepper
eaten off kitchen floor.

No Place to Hide  story p. 2
Space under bed now
blocked with stuff.

New Stuffed Pet p.10
Both skunks and
Armadillo have
been destroyed.
The Groundhog is
now featured item.

Progress Made p.5
Teena has worked
with Mai Tai so
that he stands,
sits, heels, and
shakes right paw.

 Current Problem
Mai Tai barks every
time a person walks
past our door.

Feature Story
When doing floor
exercises person is
treated to face lick,
crotch sniffed,snuggle,
and riding leg while
trying to lift dog.

Brush Off p.7
When Teena brushes
Mai Tai he ends up
looking like a cloud
with an attitude.

      Aloha
      Grant

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

A Very Old Game


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          A Very Old Game
I had walked past this small building in Ala Moana Beach Park, surrounded by a low brick wall, many times. I never took much notice of it. There was a sign on the building which read "Hawaii Lawn Bowls Club." I thought that it was another example of Pidgeon English. I had seen others: "No climb tree," and "No vote no grumble." Probably a bunch of Hawaiians who get together to play ball on grass. How very wrong I was.

The Hawaii Lawn Bowls began in 1939, when some servicemen from Australia, and missing their game, created the present court. They dug the length of the court and filled it with crushed coral. That way the lawn on the top would drain quickly and dry out. The court they built is still in use today. The club members are visited often by people from Australia and New Zealand,where lawn bowls is a very popular game.

The game is said to have originated in either Scotland or England. The oldest site still in use is Southampton, England 1299 A.D.

Bowling with a ball against pins can be traced as far back as the Egyptians. But lawn bowling is very different. The story told is that the Duke of Suffolk was bowling with wood balls, and his boll split. He took a knob from wood stairwell and used it instead. The side with the knob caused the knob to roll with a curve.

Today each bowl is less rounded on one side which results in the bowl being "biased" in one direction due to the extra weight on one side. The bias of a correctly rolled bowl ensures that it follows a slightly curved path, as it rolls which accelerates as it comes to a halt.

If you were not asleep in World History class, you may remember that in 1588, when King Philip II of Spain sent his great Armada of ships to invade England, Sir Francis Drake, was notified while he was bowling. He is said to have remarked, "Let us complete our game, and finish them off later."

The sport of lawn bowling was brought to America by the British.There were several lawn bowling clubs in Boston. George Washington was such an avid fan, that he had a lawn bowling court built. But alas, today there are trees planted where the old court once was.

Simply put, lawn bowling differs from ten pins and other forms of bowling on grass. Not only are the bowls used  different, but the object of lawn bowling is not to knock down a bunch of standing pins, but to try a get a correctly rolled bowl, as close as possible, to a small white ball which is called the "Jack."

Lawn bowls today are a far cry from the stair knob used by the Duke of Suffolk. They are not weighted. Their shape is formed by a composition material under great pressure in molds. They are sold in sets of four. Each player uses four bowls.

Lawn bowling can be played by anybody. People with physical disabilities, including people with wheel chairs, enjoy the game.  I  now know what those letters on the club house mean, because I am now a proud member.

      Aloha
      Grant

Grandmother's Elephant


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       Grandmother's Elephant
This is my attempt to re-create a conversation we had with a woman from Thailand.
"My grandmother had an elephant." "Did the elephant work in the jungle hauling out Teak logs?" "No, he was just a pet." What was his name?" "We just called him "Big." "What did you do with him?" "He carried us to school everyday." "There was a large basket tied on his back, enough for three children, sometimes five." "Did the elephant kneel down for you to get aboard?" "No, there was a stand where we climbed on." "Was it a long ride to school?" "It was about a mile, but we had to cross a river." "We were all naked and carried our clothes so that they wouldn't get wet." "Then we would dress after we crossed the river." "When my father saw that I was beginning to develop breasts, he told me to keep my clothes on, even if they did get wet."

"What was school like?" "You only went to school for four years." "We didn't have any paper or pens." "The teacher had a large blackboard, and we each had a slate tablet and a piece of chalk." "We couldn't take any notes home, everything had to be memorized."

"Were there any other elephants in your village?" "No, only "Big." "There were only twenty-five people in my village, no running water or electricity." "We washed in the river, but we got our drinking water from a pond that was fed by a stream." Everybody washed their clothes there too." No one ever got sick." "My grandmother is ninety-three, and she has had six children at home, and only once, was she ever in a hospital."

"We worked very hard planting and harvesting rice." "When  it got dark, we went to bed.""These kids today don't know what it is to work." (She showed me her bent finger) "That is from pulling rice."

The next time you remember riding a bus to school, imagine going there on an elephant!
I thought readers would find this interesting.

      Aloha
      Grant

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Things People Have Told Me


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      Things People Have Told Me
When we (Army) told the village elder that that they would drill some wells for water, so that his people would not have to walk twenty miles for water, he refused saying"What then would I have them do?"

We were talking about airline travel. The woman speaking was from Germany, and is about my age. She said" I never go flying anymore." Every so often when I hear the sound of airplane engines, I am reminded of planes, bombs going off, buildings falling." "I saw a lot of bad things, dead people."

Vehicle inspection. " I'm sorry but I can't let you pass because you have rust holes in one fender." "What does that have to do with the safety of my car?" "Well, you see if some kid sticks his finger in those holes he might get cut." "What if I taped them over with some Duct-Tape, would that pass?" "Yes it would."

       Aloha
       Grant

Bubble Bubble


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           Bubble Bubble
In my previous entry concerning getting a sailboat ready for winter in Michigan, I forgot to mention a couple of things.

First we seldom see lightning here in Honolulu, so no problem for sailboats with tall masts. These large boats have their masts stepped to their keels, so lightning is no problem. The boat is grounded. Not so for sailboats whose masts are stepped to the top of the boat's cabin. If struck by lightning there is no ground, all electrical stuff is fried and even worse. The solution to the problem is very easy. You buy a set of auto battery jumper cables. You clamp one end of the cable to one of the shrouds that hold up the mast, and throw the other end over the side into the water. The boat is then founded. We had a lot of lightning where we lived, and I never had any electronics fried.

Another interesting fact about getting a sailboat ready for winter is to leave the boat in the water. In order to do this you must lay a rubber hose with holes in it down on the bottom of the water under the boat. The hose is connected to an air compressor. Ice will not form in moving water. Bubbles from the hose keeps the water moving around the boat, preventing the formation of ice. It looks strange to see all the empty docks covered with snow, and a couple of sailboats floating free in a puddle of water,surrounded by snow covered ice.

An electric heater tries to beat back the cold below, but frost still gathers on the port hole glass and bulkheads. Kind of chilly.
Sailors I knew who chose to bubble their boats only slept below, wrapped in thick bedding. They didn't spend any time there during the daytime. For them it was quickly up in the morning, and a mad dash to the clubhouse for a shave and a shower. This was not for everyone, but it was cheaper than having to have your boat raised, and then put back into the water in the spring.

       Aloha
       Grant      

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

A Very Old Story


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         A Very Old Story
If you had been one of my students years ago, you would have heard me relate the plot of an ancient Greek play. Just to get it out of my head, here it is again for the final time.

The play is "Oedipus the King". It was written sometime during the5th century B.C. by Sophocles. Oedipus (e-duh-puss) is a play in which Oedipus is fated to kill his father, and marry his mother. Here then is my telling of this most famous play.

The play begins when a prophecy comes to the king and queen of the city of Thebes,King Laius  Laius (lie-use) and his wife Queen Jocasta. They are told that a son born to them will grow up to kill his father, and marry his mother! And later Queen Jocasta gives birth to a baby boy. Not wanting the prophecy to come true, King Laius has the baby's ankles pinned together.(The name Oedipus in Greek means "swollen feet.) He  gives gives the baby to a shepherd, to be taken up into the mountains and left to die.
The shepherd couldn't do such a terrible thing. So he gave the baby to a shepherd from another city called Sparta.

The shepherd gives the baby to the king and queen of Sparta. So Oedipus grows up as a prince, but he was often taunted by others about his low birth. Oedipus travels to Delphi to consult the Oracle about his birth. ( Delphi was the place where female priests would inhale the smoke from burning Laurel leaves  and get high, while answering questions.) (The Greeks thought that Delphi was the center of the world, and it is a beautiful place.)  The answer Oedipus receives is that it is his fate to kill his father and marry his mother! This shocking event must not happen. Oedipus, not wanting to kill his father and marry his mother, decides to leave Sparta. So, where does he decide to go? To Thebes.

On his journey to Thebes Oedipus meets a man in a chariot who orders Oedipus to get out of the way. Oedipus, a royal prince is not one to be ordered about by anyone. A fight takes place, and Oedipus kills the man. (People watching the play know that the man Oedipus has killed was his own father, but Oedipus is unaware that the first part of the prophecy has come true.)

Oedipus arrives in Thebes to find the city in mourning. It seems that someone has killed their king. And if that was not enough, now there is a monster called a Sphinx just outside the city that  kills travelers. The offer is made to the man who is able to rid them of this monster, will be wed to the widow Queen Jocasta. This is a very good prospect for an out of work prince.

So Oedipus goes to see the Sphinx. She asks him the same question she asks of all travelers. And if the answer is wrong she kills them. The question she asks Oedipus is "What goes on fours at morning bright, two at noon, and three at night?" The answer Oedipus gives is "Man, who as a child goes about on all fours, and as a man he stands upright, and in old age goes about using a cane." The answer is correct and so monster throws herself into the sea.

Oedipus is married to Jocasta. (He does not know that it has all come true.) The man in the chariot was his father,and he has married his mother. They have a child. But now after a few years a great plague takes place in the city. Now King Oedipus sends to the Oracle at Delphi a question,  'What should he do to rid the city of the plague?"

The answer he receives is that the city is harboring the one who killed king Laius. When the killer is found and banished from the city, the plague will end.

As a good ruler Oedipus decides that he will find the man who killed Laius. The kingdom is searched from end to end. At last a shepherd was found,and is brought before King Oedipus. He learns that a child born to Jocasta and Laius was given to this man to take up into the mountains. He tells Oedipus that he gave the baby to a shepherd from Sparta. Oedipus at last knows the truth. He has killed his real father and married in shame, his mother. The shepherd tells Oedipus that he was born the most unfortunate of men. Jocasta upon learning that she is married to her son, kills herself. Oedipus coming upon her body, takes the large pins on her dress and plunges them into his eyes. The play ends with the now blind Oedipus being led from Thebes by his daughter Antigone (an-tig-ah-knee), and the plague is lifted.

Poor Oedipus, given a cruel fate which he is unable to do anything about it. The play is about his discovery who he really is. Also,incest was just as terrible a crime back then as it is today. If this is the first time your have heard this story, I hope you have enjoyed it.  

      Aloha
      Grant    

The Season Ends


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           The Season Ends  
I got to thinking about one of the differences between sailing here in Hawaii, and sailing in Michigan. It never freezes here,and the sailing season is year-round. The sailing season in Michigan is limited to about three months. When the snow and cold arrives, it is time to pull your boat out of the water,and make it ready for winter.    

First, the sails are removed from the boat and taken ashore, where they are folded and placed two bags, one for the main sail, and another for the jib. If there are other sails they are put in their separate bags.

Next you cast off, and motor to the dock where the"Gin Pole" is located. This is a very light-weight crane which is used to raise and lower the masts on all of the sailboats. No boats in our area are      wintered over with their masts raised.
 
The boat is tied to the dock and made as steady as possible. The boom is separated from the mast and laid on the top of the cabin. Turnbuckles are made loose. (These are used to hold the wire cables (shrouds) that hold up the mast).The Gin Pole raises the mast out of the Tabenacle (base) a few inches so that  connections for the radio,   cabin lights, and radio can be un-plugged.   The turnbuckles (long threaded bolts) are let free and the mast is supported only by the fore stay and the back stay (cables front and back), and a person holding a rope halyard.The gin pole is operated with a hand crank by a person  on the dock. The mast is raised, the fore stays and back stays are freed, and the mast is now free of the boat. It is gently lowered down to be placed with the boom on the top of the cabin. As the mast is much longer than the boat itself, a wood crutch aft (behind) the cabin, holds up and supports the mast.This becomes important later as it helps to form a canvas tent covering the boat for the winter. The radio antenna and wind gauge are removed from the top of the mast.
         
The hard part is now over. Next, the boat is cast off from the dock and motors to another dock where a very large four- wheeled lifting crane straddles the boat. Two padded slings are passed under the boat and fastened . The crane lifts the boat out of the water and carries it to the wood cradle where it will rest all winter, surrounded by many other boats. If the sailboat is smaller than some of the larger ones, the crane sets it on a trailer, to be hauled away and  stored elsewhere. If the boat has an outboard motor, it is removed. If the boat has an inboard marine engine, anti-freeze is run through the engine. The final step to end the sailing season is to remove the radio and anything that would freeze, and provide for ventilation by cracking open some hatches, and covering the boat with canvas,firmly tied to the wood cradle.       And when the ice and snow depart, the whole process is repeated in reverse.

This blog entry is for readers here in Hawaii. Sailors in the North know this all too well.

       Aloha
       Grant


Friday, October 3, 2014

Shifting Gears


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            Shifting Gears
Driver training was required for students who wanted to obtain their license. I know it was vastly different from what is being taught today. For one thing, students learned using a stick shift.

After classroom time with books, the next step was to learning to start the car,and shift into low gear. The instructor had duel controls, clutch and brake pedals. Students were taught to think of the letter "H" as the pattern for shifting the car. It did not matter if the shifting gear was on the floor of a car or next to the steering wheel. Low gear was the lower left part of the letter "H", and second gear was on the upper right part of the letter. In order to get to get there you would pass through neutral. And to get to high gear you would  only had to pull straight down. All of these changes would take place when the foot on the clutch was down to the floor of the car. In order to shift into reverse you would move the gear lever up into the left part of the letter "H". Remembering that you always had to pass through neutral. Once a student learned how to shift through the letter "H" they could then drive anything with gear shifts.

One of the most difficult problems to overcome was to stop on a steep hill. It took practice to learn how to equalize the clutch and gas pedal. If not done the right  way the car would stall, and the car would have to be restarted while holding the brake, in order not to roll back into  some car directly behind.

Students were taught how to change a tire, check oil,and water. Bored students spent the first week driving around in low gear.

Shifting gears had some other problems to be overcome.If your date had been driving and knew the shifting pattern,it was often that she would listen to the sound of the engine and knew when the clutch was not engaged, and then shift for you. You did not have to remove your hand from wherever it was. It was much easier with a floor shift. If the shifting lever was under the steering wheel, the girl had to reach over you in order to shift gears. But we managed.

One final note. I think that if people had to shift gears as we had to, before automatic shifts, they would not be playing around with their cell phones. They would be paying attention to driving.

       Aloha
       Grant

Projector operators


      More Letters From Paradise
        Projector Operators
In the early nineteen fifties, I was one of the few boys in our high school who had been trained to operate 16mm movie projectors. We were trained by the Biology teacher Mr. Kenneth Massey. He had organized a program that had saved teachers a lot of grief. The program worked as follows:

During any time of the day a girl would come to the door of a classroom and give the teacher a slip to be given to a boy in the class, who had been trained. The boy would  during study hall, follow the directions on the form. The form gave the following information: date,teacher's name and classroom, film title, film running time, if the projector was already there, or had to be brought from the AV room. The form also indicated if a screen had to be brought to the room, or if everything was to be returned to the AV room. As our high school had two floors, this meant lugging equipment up and down from the AV room on the main floor. It was a good system and worked well. One special film was shown to the girls in the Home Economics class. It was produced by Walt Disney and Kotex. It caused a great deal of talk among the projector operators.

In the deep winter, we showed movies during the lunch hour. Ten cents admission and bring your lunch. Comedies and cartoons.

We projection operators were honored during the annual awards assembly, and given a pin to wear. Our mentor Mr. Massey invited all of us out to his family's lakeside cabin  for an over-night cookout. I remember him trying in vain to get us to go to bed. And there were two or three guys who had a big carp on a spit, basting it with cheap red wine. I doubt if they every ate any.

That's the way it was back then. No elevator in the school, no swimming pool either. Television had not yet arrived, and so we had to make do with 16mm movie projectors.
We were all so innocent, and it was all so long ago.
       Aloha
       Grant  

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Just a Few Poems


      More Letters From Paradise
         Just a Few Poems

         Walking on the beach
         he found in the sand
           a G.I. dog tag
          bending with his
              camera
           the sea came
            claimed it
              as its
               own     7/7/14

             Numbers
      I find it impossible
   to understand the deaths of
          six million
I have a little better understanding      
    regarding the deaths of
            77,297 Jews
             in Prague
     But I fully comprehend
         that there were
     15,000 Jewish children
           and only    
             94
          survived
                    4/15/85
              Teotehuacan
          The Aztecs named it
         The place where all go
          to worship the gods
         Standing on top of the
          Pyramid of the Moon
       dark clouds being pushed
        by the on rushing wind
     it is easy to understand why
       the Aztecs named it so
                        4/25/78
       Aloha
       Grant  
         

Playing Chicken


      More Letters From Paradise
          Playing Chicken
Once again suffering from "writer's block." The last time, I was forced to write about cabbage.This time I'm going to write about chickens. I know something about chickens.

There are many different breeds, some really funny looking ones such as the so-called Polish, with wild feathers on the top of its head. Then there is the Aracana breed from South America, which lays blue or green eggs. Then there is the Banty breed. Small birds, good mother hens and roosters full of fight. My friend George once had some Banty chickens, and a rooster that used to fight with cars. Note the use of the past tense.

My favorite two breeds are the Barred Plymouth Rock and the Rhode Island Red. They both lay brown eggs. I think that brown eggs are better than white, but I can't prove it. I have raised chickens from baby chicks to adult laying chickens.

When baby chicks arrive you first dip their beaks into some water so that they will know how to drink. Finely ground feed and grit is fed to them. They are gathered under a wide hood with a heat lamp in the center. They soon begin to grow feathers, and in six weeks they are large enough to become a frying chicken. Left to grow they will first produce pullet-size eggs. Then as the chicken ages and continues laying, you now have medium-size eggs, and even later large eggs.

It is not necessary to have a rooster with your flock of chickens, unless you want fertile eggs and baby chicks. There is a pecking order in the flock. The top chicken pecks all the flock. The next chicken below him pecks all the others, and so on down the line. The poor chicken at the end of the pecking order gets pecked by all the others. Sometimes if there is a rooster in the flock, he may become troublesome. My oldest daughter was, as a small child, knocked down by a rooster which then got in her face. I grabbed a 2x4 and made a home run with him.

There are wild chickens here in our state. Not so many here on Oahu, since a guy was paid to catch and dispose of them. On some of the other islands, there are many wandering around. There is an old law here in Honolulu that each household is limited to having only two chickens. And as I once asked in an other entry, "Where are my two chickens?"

And there are few things that smell as bad as a dead chicken  pulled  from a pail of hot water, or a plucked chicken held over a flame to burn off pin feathers.

Have you ever wondered where the chicken in chicken noodle soup came from? Probably not. When all those chickens who have spent their days in cages, and are no longer laying, they end up in soup.

I could go on and on about chickens, but I think that this is enough. We have a house rule in our building that residents can have only one dog. I wonder how they would feel about my two chickens?  

          Aloha
          Grant

Monday, September 15, 2014

Talking Trash


       More Letters From Paradise
            Talking Trash
Everybody has some trash. This is so very true as we have become a "throw-away" society.  In the building where we live there are some 900 people, and that causes a lot of trash. We live on an island,  so what to do with our trash? That's what we are abut to find out this Saturday. We are going on a "Tour de Trash 2014." We are required to bring a photo ID. Long pants and closed-toed shores are REQUIRED, NO EXCEPTIONS. This writing will continue following the tour.

Well, the trip is over. We were provided with two large air-conditioned busses.  Two groups per bus. The first stop for our group was the H-Power station where we were shown a film about how the old and the new power plants produce electricity. It was fun to see in the film a refrigerator chewed into bits of scrap metal. Following the film we  were each given hard hats and safety glasses. Our tour took us up three flights of steel stairs to a control room. The room contained a great number of dials and a man enthroned on huge chair with controls in each hand. Looking through the window you could see garbage trucks backing up and dumping their loads onto a giant pile of garbage. The operator in the chair used his controls to cause a giant claw to grasp a load of garbage, and raise it up and over to be burned, causing steam to drive a turbine, to  produce electricity. Material that failed to burn was sifted on a shaker and metals (iron, copper, etc) would be recovered. We were told that one ton of garbage would equal one barrel of oil saved for power. Burning trash amounts for producing 7 percent of power on our island. An interesting fact learned is that limestone for "scrubbers" to keep exhaust clean, comes from Wyoming.  Other plants on the island use some coal and oil.  Photovoltaic and wind are also used to an extent, but it is very hard to control, and power surges can short out an entire grid, we were told.  Batteries are needed to keep up the wind turbines.  Batteries die and need to be replaced.  Cloudy days prevent sunlight from being used and there is no adequate way to store the energy produced as of yet.

Our next stop was Schnitzer Steel, a plant devoted to recovery of steel from cars, white metal(refrigerators etc.) The metal is shredded and cut with giant shears that can cut metal a half-inch thick. Larger metal such as rebars, used in concrete building, is cut with torches. Fairly interesting, but we did not leave the bus because of liability. We had all signed forms earlier, but it would have been too dangerous, and we would have only have been in the way of trucks and fork lifts.

Our third stop was a Hawaiian Earth Co. It is here that all green waste from the city is turned into compost mulch. Everywhere were piles of scrap wood pallets, logs, and compost.  The wood is finely  ground and becomes compost. We have a new unwelcome visitor to the islands called the coconut beetle. This new threat can be killed along with fire ants, when the compost creates heat to 155 degrees, over a period of 15 days. The piles are turned frequently.  The nice reddish compost you buy in the store is compost which has been dyed with a water dye. Interesting information.

Our final stop was a noisy and dusty redemption center for plastic and glass. The owner spoke to us and said that his family had been in garbage for over thirty years. The Roll Off company garbage trucks around town gave the present owner the idea to open a glass recycling business. Not only glass but also plastic containers and aluminum cans.

As we watched, trucks would arrive and dump their loads which would then be sorted on conveyer belts, with some trash falling through holes. Some of the larger trash would be removed by a few people as the belt moved by. The remark was made that this would be a good incentive to stay in school. Dusty, dusty. We climbed up and over the moving belt on a straight up and down ladder. Keeping in mind some of us are senior citizens and one lady was on a crutch. OSHA would have had a fit to have seen this. All the sorted glass, plastic, and metal would be bailed into large bails and stacked in piles to be sold.

The entire tour started at 8:30 and ended at 12:00. Very interesting trip. Very little is being done on the other islands, mainly land fill. We emerged dusty and very thirsty. Some beer would have been a nice touch.  So we went to Chili's and had one!

        Aloha
        Grant  


 

Thursday, September 11, 2014

While on Liberty


      More Letters From Paradise
         While on Liberty
The elevator came to an abrupt halt several floors from our designated room. The elevator operator , a short stocky man with a fringe of white hair, asked "Are you guys thirsty?" That was a silly question, we were on liberty and looking for some booze. He then unbuttoned his gray double-breasted uniform jacket. He was a walking liquor store. There, inside in neat rows were half-pints of popular brands. "Five bucks each," he said. We had only to send down for some ice and mix.

This was she scene in the Hotel Black, in Oklahoma City in the year 1956. The state was a  dry state, and the only way to get a drink was to belong to a club, or know a bootlegger. Three-two beer, sometimes called "near beer" was found a Sweet Leona's Bar and Grill. And we consumed a fair amount.

The Naval Air Station located in Norman, Oklahoma was our home when we were unable to escape. Locker clubs were located in Norman where sailors should shed their uniforms, in favor of civilian dress. This service was for a price of course. Even in civilian clothes we were all betrayed by our block uniform shoes.

The sights of Oklahoma City had been explored throughly, and the oil wells on the lawn of the capitol were found interesting. But soon it was time to return to the hotel. Only two sailors checked in,and four others sneaked in later. A party got underway, and it became necessary for me to go to the bathroom. I was holding one of those short glasses with thick bottoms over the toilet bowl. It slipped from my grasp and plunged straight down to the toilet bowl. A loud crash was heard, and a softball size hole was in the bowl. You could look through the hole and see the tile floor below. None of us had ever heard of something like this happening before. This toilet was made of white china. I made a call down to the desk and explained the situation. We were visited by the proper authority. We were relieved when we learned that we would not have to pay for the damage. It was a good thing too, as we didn't have that kind of money.  




Anatomy of a Slingshot


       More Letters From Paradise
        Anatomy of a Slingshot
First you looked for a tree with a "Y-shaped" branch, necessary to create your slingshot. Box Elder trees were a good choice, as the wood was soft and easily yielded to dull jackknives and saws.

The bark would be stripped off, and the white wood soon dried. Then you could either carve a groove around the top forks of the Y, near the end, or make a slit in the end of each branch. Both methods were used.

Next, a search was conducted for a used inner tube. When found, it was cut into strips about an inch wide. Two strips of rubber were needed, about six inches long. One strip of each end of the rubber was tied to the end of each fork with a bit of string.

Then came the hard part. You had to find the tongue of an old shoe. When located, it was cut into a three inch piece, a slit was cut
on each end of the tongue. This was where the other end of the rubber strips were tied with a bit of string. The result made a small pouch. That was all there was to it.It soon became a prize possession. Your slingshot could launch small stones, marbles, clay balls, and even ball bearings.It was understood by all boys that you never shot at a person. It was against the code.

Alas, today you can buy a ready-made slingshot. These are cut out on a band-saw,and use rubber surgical tubing  instead of inner tubes. There is one called a "Wrist Rocket," for hunting small game. These are real killers. Not for small boys.  Oh well.
        Aloha
        Grant

Monday, September 8, 2014

Uncle Ed

     
      More Letters From Paradise
             Uncle Ed
The first time I met my uncle Ed, was at my father's funeral. After the service we sat and shared a six-pack of beer and talked. "I have known about you for years," I said. "I was given your name for my middle name."Yes, he replied, I knew." "You realize you are the only one alive who knows anything about our family in the West?" Uncle Ed then said that he would tell me what he knew, but that Grandma Beth would have known a whole lot more. " She died some time ago." "Yes, she is buried in L.A."

"I divorced your Aunt Alice in Chicago, and went to California." "This is the first time I have been back." "I'l tell you what I know, but it isn't much."

"Our family went to Montana, and settled in the Bitter Root Valley." " There they raised horses and sold them to the Union Army, during the Civil War." "They were a rough bunch, probably sold and broke mustangs too." "What about Great Aunt Jane," I asked. " I remember your Grandmother telling me how she used to shoot off the heads of rattlesnakes from horseback." "She was a crack shot and was in Bill Hitchcock's Wild West Show too."

I recalled to him about the story I had known for years about how one of our women had branded an Indian on his chest when he grabbed her hair." "I knew that story too." he said.

"My mother, your grandma was one of those tough Western women." "She went West in a covered wagon with her sister." "I'll bet you didn't know that she played a harmonica, a big four decker one." "No, I didn't, but I do know she wrote and published a song called "A Prairie Honey Moon." I said.

"How about your own father, what did he do for a living?" I asked. "Worked as a conductor on the Northern Pacific Rail Road." " He died in 1918, in the great flu epidemic." "Grandma had four or five husbands, I think." I said. "I think it was five,but your father would have known them." "I'm sorry to have so little to tell you." "When I get back to California I will send you your Grandma's Bible and a photograph album." "It's full of all the old family pictures, and I will put the name of the people I remembered on each picture." "That would be just great," I said.

That was the last time I ever saw him. A few months later I received a package in the mail. Inside was a note from the woman he lived with. She wrote that Ed had died and wanted me to have the Bible and photograph album. In the box was Grandma's Bible and the photograph album. I opened the album and stared a all the faces, men on horses, men with long beards and  women in wide dresses. But, not a single name under any picture.

     Aloha
     Grant

Friday, September 5, 2014

Mai Times


      More Letters From Paradise
             Mai Times
           Vol.1 issue 2

 OFF THE ROLL
Toilet paper all
across bathroom
floor again. Usual
suspect interviewed.
story p. 5

PLAYING ALONE
Small subject
very fuzzy, enjoys
chewing very old
bone. Flavor called
into question.
story p. 2

HOPE FOR ROPE
Small fuzzy subject
will bring thick
rope to person
wanting a play
partner. Requires
prompt action.
story p. 3

INVESTIGATION
CONTINUES
All palm trees
along Ala Wai
Canal subject
to scent us by
fuzzy subject.
   more p.3

SNIFF THIS
Small fuzzy subject
greatly surprised
by Boxer placing
nose on rear.
story p.2

        Aloha
        Grant

       








Wednesday, September 3, 2014

Roundhouse


      More Letters From Paradise
            Round House
My great-grandfather worked in the locomotive round house Chicago, in the 1880's. I do not know what job he had, but I do know that he was very well known for the use of his fists.

Sometimes the dark night- filled round house was lighted by a pool of light from the head lamps of silent locomotives. A circle of men surrounded two fighters. The rules were simple, no eye gouging and fight until one man quits, or is knocked out.The fights were brutal. Each man was stripped to the waist,and fought without gloves, bare-knuckles. Money was bet and money was lost.

My great-grandfather would often arrive home with red bruises on his body and arms, and less often a red cheek or swollen lip. But never a black eye. He would give a few dollars to his wife, while keeping the majority of his winnings to himself.

But where could he hide his winnings? He was helped in this problem by his wife. She was not very much interested in house cleaning. So Grandpa began hiding his winnings under the living room rug.

This situation continued for some time until the day when Grandma decided to do some house cleaning. The moment came when she lifted a side of the carpet and found the money. There were ten and twenty dollar gold coins and many large paper bills.

I know what she did when she found the money. What do you think she did?
Did she A. confront her husband
        B. put the money back
        C. take the money and go shopping
I would also note that if you would gently shake our family tree, a Heavy Weight
Champion of the British Isles would fall out. I think that my Great-grandfather is that man.

         Aloha
         Grant  

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Growler


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


Some Other Stuff


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

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

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

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

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

          Aloha
          Grant

Coal Train


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Seventy Eight


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

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

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

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

        Aloha
        Grant

Making Waffles


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


         Aloha
         Grant

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Mai Times


      More Letters From Paradise

             MAI TIMES
   issue 1 vol.1 August 23, 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Aloha
    Grant
 




Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Progress Report AKA Mr. Fuzzy


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

Building 419


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

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

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

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

How to Get A Head


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

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

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

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

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

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

        Aloha
        Grant

     

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Just Not Cricket

 
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         Just Not Cricket
When I think about England's contributions to civilization, I think about Magna Carta, Anglican Church, Shakespeare,Kipling, Churchill, and the Battle of Britain.

But I also think about where they went wrong. Warm beer, sweet tea, bad cooking, driving on the wrong side of the road, and cricket.

But we have just discovered the joys of one  other thing that the British got right. And it's the game of Polo. You don't have to spend thousands of dollars for a string of polo ponies, in order to enjoy the game. If you like horses, strong riders (men and women),combat after a ball to chase and drive into a goal, then you would enjoy the sport. If you are a golfer or play soccer, there are some similarities. The ball is larger and it hit with a mallet, to score a goal at the end of the field. For you golfers, there are also divots which are to be stomped down during halftime.

The game is so civilized, four seven minute periods called chukkers ( probably from India). At the end of each chukker horses are changed, while you have time to go the the loo, or have a spot of tea. Jolly what?

As members we enjoy premium table seating in the covered grand stand. We can bring our own food and drink, or purchase it there.  The club is some 45 minutes from the city along a beautiful ocean drive, located near the town of Waimanalo.
The field is lush and green, over nine foot ball fields in length. The people are wonderful, and the horses are beautiful. If you ever come to see us, we will be glad to take you along as our guest. What is it you drink?

         Aloha
         Grant

Heroic Actions


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           Heroic Action
My friend Ray said,"Here's that guy I told you about. His name is Art, and he was a pilot. I thought you two would get along."
Art is a short guy, not much over five feet tall, with a bald head fringed with white hair. And he did not wear any glasses, even though he is 89 years old.

I introduced myself, and we shook hands. He then pulled out his wallet, and showed me a photograph of a fighter plane. "You know what this plane is ?"
"Yes, that is a P-50. Did you fly one?"
"Yes." he replied.
"Where?"
"China." I knew that there were not many Americans there fighting the Japanese.
"Flying Tigers?"
"No, I was with the Army Air Corps.We flew in support of the Nationalist Chinese. Their pilots were not very good.They all came from wealthy families, and were more interested in liquor and women, instead of fighting the Japanese."

"What did you do in China?"
" We were taught to do pursuit attacks. Maintain flying at a high altitude and then attack them from the rear."

" I want to tell you about something I will never forget. I was in the middle of a dog fight with a bunch of Zero's. One guy got on my tail. I did everything you do to shake free, but he continued to stick to me. And I could see the tracer bullets from his guns, but he had not yet hit me.
As were flying way below 1,000 feet, I looked down and saw a railroad tunnel in the side of a mountain. It was a short tunnel, for I could see the open end. So here I was, a Zero on my tail blazing away with his machine guns, and if I pulled up to get away, he would surely get me. The only way seemed to try the tunnel, and fly through it. So made a sharp dive, and lining my plane up with the center of the tunnel, I flew on in. It was all over in a few seconds, and I came out the other side. My wing tips must have just missed the sides of the tunnel by inches. I climbed and looked around for the Zero, but he was gone. He probably thought that I  had crashed."

He offered me a cigar, but I told him I had quit them years ago. "Too bad, I have to go and dance." His partner was a pretty young  girl wearing a square dance skirt. I am still impressed.    

       Aloha
       Grant

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Emmy Lou


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              Emmy Lou
Pa always said that when Emmy Lou moved to Little Rock, she became "city-fied." And as if to prove his point, he often told the following story.

Emmy Lou had made one of her infrequent trips home, and one evening she decided to visit the out house before going to bed. She had just closed the door and seated herself on one of the two holes of the seat, when suddenly up popped a large raccoon from the other hole. Emmy Lou screened "Help!" jumped up, pushed open the door, stepped outside and fell on her face, with her pantaloons around her ankles. Rising to her feet she again screamed "Help," tried to run, and again fell down. About that time Pa heard her scream and ran out onto the porch, just in time to see her try once again to run with her pantaloons around her ankles, all the while screaming help, and her eyes wide with fear. Pa just about bust a gut laughing. I guess it was pretty funny, but the story is better the way Pa tells it.

     Aloha
     Grant  

Never, Ever Bored


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          Never Ever Bored
"What do you do with your free time?" is a question we are often asked. Tonto keeps busy with yoga and playing bridge. In addition she plays scrabble with friends on the internet, and the Sunday cross word puzzle.

As for me I am studying Hebrew (self-taught), reading, writing, cooking, and practicing my tenor ukulele. A friend recently installed an amplifier in it. When there is a feed-back squeal, Mr. Fuzzy runs away from me.

Alright, you can probably understand the ukulele, but why study Hebrew? In the seminary I attended, it was Greek that was studied. I have been around the whole circuit of Christian beliefs, from Roman Catholic to many Protestant denominations. I found them all at fault, and I wanted to get back to the very beginning. Hence, the study of Hebrew. I find it is very difficult, but also very rewarding. And along the way I am learning a lot about Israel etc. This includes jokes. He is my favorite:

A lady tourist was visiting Jerusalem, and the battery died in her travel alarm clock.  She didn't speak Hebrew, or read it. So she wandered around looking for some place that could replace the battery . After a time, she saw in the window of a shop, clocks and watches. She entered the shop and handed her clock to the man behind the counter. He said, "Madam, I don't repair clocks, I am a rabbi, I do circumcisions." She said,  "Then why all the clocks and watches in the window?" The rabbi replied, "So what should I have put in the window?"  

     Aloha
     Grant

Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Progress Report on MaiTai


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Progress Report Mai Tai a.k.a. Mr. Fuzzy
Getting to know you (dogs) A
Smelling feet A
Under feet A
Lifting leg and marking A
Running away with Kleenex D
Sniffing everything A
Barking at door C
Fuzzing our feet and legs A
Mai Tai is doing very well at his training class. I have to hide behind a tree so he will not look at me, instead of Tonto, who is receiving instructions from the trainer. He has received praise from two of the trainers. Recent spill of mixed vegetables in the kitchen resulted in him having his fill. He continues to bring us great joy.

      Aloha
      Grant
























Under the Stars


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          Under the Stars
Come and remember with me warm summer nights. You hear the sound of footsteps outside the window of your car. Someone is heading for the concession stand. You can smell popcorn and cigarette smoke. Some few cars were arriving late and looking for a parking place. Fat speakers hung from  short steel posts, on the top of each graded hill. You were on a date, or maybe just a car full of friends. Cars had larger trunks back then, and two people could be admitted  for free, if not caught.

Adults with children dressed in their p.j.'s were frequently seen. After the movies, Mom and Dad had only to carry them into the house and put them in their beds.

It was important to place your car just so, that the screen in the distance could be seen to the best advantage. Some people brought lawn chairs and placed them in front of their car. While others were seated on chairs in the rear of a pick up truck.

It was a quiet private world inside your car. The only sound came from the bulky speaker hanging on the window. Popcorn and sodas could be purchased from the low cement block projection building located in the center of the drive in. Or, you could bring your own. I remember once when I was a junior in high school,that I dated a girl who was a junior in college. She brought along a cooler filled with "Tom Collins." I  have forgotten her name, as I am sure she has forgotten mine.

In Michigan it didn't get really dark until about nine. But the screen was often filled with ads before the main feature. I can't remember seeing any block-busters. But then, sometimes it wasn't the movie you were interested in anyway. Most of the time it was a double feature, and the movies got out real late. Cops were often on had to direct traffic as the cars left the theater.

As summer moved into fall, some drive in theaters had heaters located beside the speakers on the post. The warm air entered car by way of the window, just as the speaker did. It worked pretty well, but you were probably snuggled up anyway in order to keep warm.  

After graduating from high school, everyone went their separate ways, and I never again went to a drive in. They are all gone now, except a few that became drive in churches. Young people today will have missed that special time at the drive in movies.  I'm sure that you remember.

     Aloha
     Grant

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

This Bugs Me


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            This Bugs Me
I have read somewhere that a writer should write about things he knows. I know about a lot of things. I know a lot about tomatoes. I used to grow and market baskets of them. I also know a lot about Volkswagens. I think I will write about the latter.

The first VW I ever saw was in 1946, a G.I. had managed (God only knows how) to bring it back from Europe. I first thought that it was ugly as hell. Squat, with a divided rear window, and a sound that was like a chainsaw. So this was Hitler's idea of a "People's Car."  Little did I ever think in  my wildest dreams, that I would one day own three of them. And I grew to love my Bugs.

My first Bug was 1961, black, and had a sliding rubber roof, sort of an almost convertible.  No bells or whistles. Just a radio, and a speedometer (laugh). No gas gauge.  A lever stuck out from the firewall which you turned down when you were running out of gas.  This was to give you another gallon of gas.  Heater?  Ha Ha.  The heat from the engine was supposed to reach the front of the car by way of a channel under the doors.  In winter, by the time you reached your destination, the car was at last warm.  But, it was great in the winter for traction, as the engine was in the rear of the car. There was at that time an ad showing a man driving his Bug to get to his snowplow.

The engine was a four  cylinder air-cooled type, and is still used in small airplanes. You always carried a spare fan belt, as everything depended on it.

There was a book around then written by a guy who was, I think, named John Muir, called "How to Keep Your VW Alive," sub-titled, "The Manual for the Complete Idiot." And it was great. mHe told you to which wrench to use, and it made it  possible for you to to adjust the valves, and make a timing light. This was much better than having to pay a garage to do the same thing. This was very important as I was a poorly paid first year teacher. The year was 1964, and I was paid $4.500, and no benefits. Also required to chaperone dances, sell tickets to football games etc. Is it any wonder I did all the work on my car?

My high school students thought it was funny to pick up my car and place it front and rear, between two trees. This was also the time that phone booths were packed with students for a world record. They did this too with Bugs. I don't remember how many could fit, and if the windows were rolled down, or not.

Cheap to operate, and dependable, I owned two others, a red one and a yellow automatic shift.  Make it two bugs I loved, but not the yellow automatic shift. Maybe I missed rowing my way around town.

At the time I owned my 1961 Bug, a friend had bought a little Renault. There were vast differences between the two cars. Mine had an air-cooled engine, and his car had a radiator. Also, the doors of his car were not even lined or covered. It looked cheap, compared to the VW. He had to buy anti-freeze, and I didn't. I think his car was probably warmer in the winter, but I never did find out.

Old memories were brought back to me recently, when I discovered a small rally of VW's here in Ala Moana Beach Park, (which translates as "Ocean Drive," in Hawaiian). I had a grand old time with these local guys, and they said that the book I mentioned above, is still around and being used.

Bug owners are friendly people. In the old days, when two Bug owners met on the highway, they would sound a friendly "beep beep" in greeting.

These new VW's are fat, wide and nothing like their parent cars. And the worse thing of all is that their engines are not air-cooled, and are up in front!

       Aloha
       Grant

Thursday, July 3, 2014

A Fighting Chance


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       This one is for Frank
         A Fighting Chance
Frank was born and raised in Philly.  Tough town, tough neighborhood.  But he never had any trouble.  He got along well enough in St. Patrick's School.  He had a few fights, but that was pretty normal.

The trouble began when he went to junior high, and met Sister Angelica. She was one mean nun. She ruled her class with a steel ruler. She applied it to those whom she felt needed discipline. And she felt that Frank needed discipline often. For his part, Frank wanted to kill Sister Angelica. But he refrained from doing so because it would put his soul in mortal danger, and he would go straight to hell. And so he suffered in silence as did the rest of his class.

Freedom from sister Angelica came when he entered the new high school. The building principal was named Father Mark. On the opening day, Frank was herded along with all the other boys into the gym. They were told to stand against the wall, while he talked to them. They had never heard such language from the mouth of a priest before.  But as he was a priest, Frank guessed it was alright. He said, "You little bastards, I don't want to have any shit from any one of you."  He went on like this for awhile, and then he called four boys, picked at random to come to him. He told the first boy to come forward, the boy did, and Father Mark knocked him down. The boy cried, and crawled away. He next pointed to Frank, who stepped forward. Again the priest also knocked him down.  Frank then quietly rose to his knees, stood upright, and, looking the priest in the face said, "Is that the best you got?" Well, that made Frank something of a hero, and Frank never again had any trouble with Father Mark. It seemed that there was some kind of a truce.

Frank's high school years had a few bumps, but he did manage to graduate. About then he decided that he would fight in some of those amateur bouts around town. He was a light heavy weight. He not only won all his fights, but he made some money too.

It was about that time he decided he would turn pro. His first bout was with a guy called "Tiny", something or other.  He was anything but tiny.  He stood over six feet tall, and had arms that reached his knees.

For the first couple of rounds, they felt  each other out.  Frank soon realized that he couldn't get inside of the tall guy's long arms to do him any harm.  And it was in the fourth round when Frank caught a right to the jaw, and kissed the canvas for a full count.

Later when Frank was healing from his loss,  he remembered an old saying, "Work smarter, not harder."  It now seemed to make sense.  Frank gave up his gloves, and became a consultant of some company.  He never again had anyone hit him in the mouth.

        Aloha
        Grant  

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Flying High


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             Flying High
I understand perfectly, aircraft construction. This is because my friends and I built light, balsa wood airplanes. These airplanes were built from a kit. These kits came in all sizes, and were cheap. The kits were boxes containing several thin flat sheets of balsa wood, with the parts printed on them. There were also several thin balsa wood strips, a  wire bent into shape for a landing gear, two wood wheels, a propeller, a long rubber band, a couple sheets of tissue paper, a tube of glue, and the building plans.

You had to find some additional items. A large piece of fiber board,cardboard,or anything you could cut upon. And,a handful of straight pins, and several single-edge razor blades.

The construction proceeded as follows: The building plan was spread out, and then the printed parts were all cut out with a razor blade. The round cowling shapes that formed the shape of the plane were in different sizes. These were held in place with pins, until the glue was dry. It was difficult, exacting work. These parts had to have notches cut into them to receive the long thin strips which would be glued to the round cut shapes.The plan showed were each of these parts belonged. The long rubber band was put inside the body of the plane before all the thin strips were glued.

So much for the body. The wings and tail were tear drop shapes, again of different sizes, and were properly placed on the  plan, and glued in place.  The landing gear was glued in place.  The the two wood wheels were attached, and the nose propeller with the rubber band was hooked to the plane.  If all went right, you now had the skeleton of an airplane.  Next, tissue paper covered the body, wings, and tail of the plane. To give strength to the plane it was brushed all-over with something called "Dope." I don't know what is was, but probably some sort of shellac. But, we were not done yet.  It had to be painted. The "Dope" had stiffened the tissue to a firm, smooth surface. Sometimes the kit would contain some decals which could be used if desired.

At long last it was finished. It had taken many days of patient work. The beauty of this was that not only did it teach you patience and craftsmanship, but it kept you out of your parents' hair. It was wonderful to see your creation take wings and fly, the product of your own two hands. No snap-together parts, just balsa wood, tissue paper and glue. You could also buy some tiny aircraft engines for your plane. I once won a model plane contest, and the prize? A model plane kit.

And, as long as I am on the subject of airplanes, I want to mention  some facts that you might not know.   First, during WW11 it was thought that it would be impossible to build an airplane on an assembly line, Henry Ford proved them wrong. Wings and other parts were trucked to the Willow Run Bomber Plant, outside of Detroit, where they were fitted to the body of the planes. The bomber plant was operated every day, all day, and all the week long.  The plant employed a large number of women, as the men had gone to war.   Dwarfs bucked rivets from inside of the wings, where only they could fit. And, the astonishing fact is that when the assembly line had reached its peak, one ready to fly bomber was completed every hour!  All that was left to do was to sight the guns, and test fly the plane.  We were building bombers faster than the enemy could destroy them. And,we had the problem of training enough men to fly them.  But we should also remember that our casualty rate was 65 percent.   Each bomber carried a crew of ten men.   So when a  plane went down, you lost not only a plane, but often the entire crew too.

I want to mention that Tonto's father was a gunner on a B17, and his brother was also a gunner on a B24. Her father survived the war, but her uncle did not. His plane"Shack Rabbit," was shot down over Nuremburg.
We should all remember the men who flew into danger.
         Aloha
         Grant
   

Yankee Doodle Dandy

   
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       Yankee Doodle Dandy
During WWI the composer and actor George M. Cohan wrote a song called "Yankee Doodle Dandy." One of the lyrics say that he was born on the 4th of July. Our friend, Jerry, was also born on the 4th of July. He is retired from the Air Force. And, on his birthday, his wife Lottie, would make him a special cake. The cake was covered with white frosting, and red stripes made of strawberries. Then in one corner there was a field of blue berries and frosting with white dots. Very pretty, and very good tasting too.

There may be some of you who remember when our nation's flag contained only 48 stars, in neat rows. It all changed in 1959, when Alaska and Hawaii joined the Union.

When I was stationed in Puerto Rico, before Alaska and Hawaii became States, there was talk of Puerto Rican statehood. That would have given flag designers fits. And, what about Guam, and the U.S. Virgin Islands?

But flags alone are not the only part of the July 4th celebration. There are fireworks too. When I was a kid, fireworks were not legal in Michigan. You could sometimes buy   a few packs from a guy who had bought them in Ohio. Profit for him, and fun for us.We carefully untied the braid, and divided the firecrackers, so that we could have single explosions, instead of one big series of bangs.

And more often, we made our own. We all knew the formula for gunpowder, and the ingredients were easily bought from the drugstore. Potassium Nitrate, Sulfur, and powdered charcoal. The ancient Chinese used this mixture long before Marco Polo brought the formula back to Europe. Which reminds me of the saying "Gunpowder made all men the same size." Warfare was changed forever.
Our gunpowder never amounted to much. A few bangs were created, but mostly lots of smoke and fire.

When we moved here to Hawaii, fireworks were legal. And on the 4th of July there were large, and I mean large, clouds of smoke. The law has changed, and now a permit is required, and the smoke and noise is much improved. Except for Chinatown, where the use of fireworks is widely used as a part of their culture.

We have huge aerial displays here on special occasions. And, those of us living here in Waikiki, are treated to aerial displays every Friday night, from the Hilton Village directly across from our lanai.

Years ago, I remember sitting on the grass of the fairgrounds, waiting in the dark for the show  begin. It was a big event, once a year.
         Aloha
         Grant