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