Polo in Paradise? . . . . .

04_Polo_game3.jpg - Polo game at Kapi`olani Park with Diamond Head at right, Honolulu, Hawai`i, ca. 1900. BISHOP MUSEUM

 

Description Kapiolani Park, polo game, c. 1900.jpg

 

Remember when you came to Hawaii, to Honolulu in Oahu, and you put on some loose comfortable colorful clothes and went for a long walk in Waikiki?  And walking toward Diamondhead you came to Kapiolani Park, a grassy park with beautiful trees and a white concert stage where you heard the Royal Hawaiian Band?  Left of the park was the zoo and on your right, of course, the ocean.

These are pictures of that same area in 1900 when it was polo grounds.  Yes, not everyone was rowing, dancing the hula, beating a drum, gathering cocoanuts.  On this Sunday afternoon (probably) some were dressed in their finest, resting comfortably in their fine buggy, waiting for the games to begin.  I would guess that in their buggy they have blankets and picnic baskets full of luscious food.  I could guess who these people are, maybe.  Royalty?  Children of the missionaries?  Business moguls?

People are always surprised, the more they learn about Hawaii.  Someone on the mainland asked me once if English is spoken in Hawaii.

<Sigh>

 

 

 

An afternoon on Kuhio Avenue . . . . .

pa.ms and plumeria

This morning Sara and I stepped off the elevator in my building to go shopping, but instead of getting into her car which was parked on the ground floor of the garage we drifted toward the garage entrance because we noticed people gathered there giving their attention to something.

The something turned out to be Hawaii Five-O preparing to film a scene right there.  Of course we stood and watched their preparations for a while.  Jorge Garcia (the big guy with the long hair) was moving about, then sitting in a chair playing games on his cellphone waiting for the take.  The scene was to show Jorge on a motorscooter going down our street and turning on our corner onto another, and something happens there.

We tired of waiting for the scene, and as we pulled out of the garage and turned to go  through that area, we were stopped for no more than a few minutes and then allowed to drive through. We had just missed it.  But we didn’t really care.  We drove right past Jorge, who was standing in the grassy boulevard area with a helmet on his head.  We took some iphone pictures out our window and through the windshield, but they were mostly of the steering wheel.

The filming was all very nicely organized.  I realized other scenes had been filmed earlier on another corner in front of our building.  I had looked down on it from my lanai but thought there may have been an accident.

Sara and I ran our errands and then stopped at a restaurant for a sandwich.  As we are eating I see a TV cameraman set up his equipment right outside our window.  After a bit he was filming two women talking about the problem the city was having redoing that street because water mains were just below the surface.  Then the photographer placed a  camera on the front of his hood and drove off filming the traffic ahead of him and the poor condition of the street.  We saw it all on our six oclock news.  And if we wish we can see the motorscooter scene on Hawaii-Five-O the middle of April on TV.

Why we should witness two professional filmings in one afternoon is a little odd.  I’ll think about that.  No, I won’t think about it.  If there’s an answer it will come floating in when it comes together, or when I need it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aloha from Paradise . . . . .

Me and kids Feb 2015 Here I am with two of my kids, having dinner at the Elks Club in Honolulu.  Right by the water.  Such a lovely evening.  It had been cloudy, but the sun showed up jut in time to give us a pretty sunset.  I thought it was nice of the sun to do that. ?????????????????????????????

Can bad luck be good luck? . . . . .

19858630-water-question-mark-over-open-book[1]

There is always, or so it seems, good luck and bad luck.  But some days I can’t decide which is which.  You will forgive me, I hope, if I get just personal enough to explain that.

I had been working on my book and it was coming together, but I was invited to miss the coming cold weather by going south to spend the holidays with family.  I didn’t hesitate, although I knew my plans would be disrupted by kids and dogs, long dinner conversations, frequent outings, and the making of peanut brittle.

So the last pulling together of poems and stories for the volume began to lag, of course.  But then a strange thing happened.  An area above my ankle turned red and swollen and caused eventually enough concern to land me in the hospital overnight and then be sent back to my guest home with an IV and a look-in nurse.

My skin has always been my Achilles heel, so if I must get a reaction, an infection, an imperfection it must land there.  (How fortunate the trouble avoids the stomach, the liver, the lungs, or the heart.)

So I was to sit all day, while family was at work and school, with my leg raised, with a heating pad on at times.  The dogs curled up, one at my feet and one beside me as close as he could get.  There was just room for the computer on my lap, which of course is where a laptop is supposed to be.  And there was nothing to do but to write, revise, retype and to seek advise or information  on my iPhone.

I was able to walk through Xmas, with other family in the south, and then to board the plane for my winter in paradise. Paradise is, however, wonderfully distracting..  How to ever get that book through the process of reviews and re-do’s and all the choices to be made and paid, under the spell of the ocean and palms?

But then a strange thing happened.  I developed another condition, affecting both legs, (thank heavens not my head or my back or my esophagous), and I was put on steroids.

Another setback I thought, at first, until I learned the nature of steroids.

Down to a deadline, and back to the sofa, I seemed to work at tremendous speed with great concentration.  I was awake through much of the night and even all day I seemed to have great energy, buzzed-up as it were, and able to concentrate fiercely, type rapidly, and make quick decisions.

Yesterday I met the inpossible.  My final revised drafts went off to the printer for final inspection and I’m moving closer to publication.

I still can’t decide if I had good luck or bad luck.

You are so going to want to know what is in that book.  I’ll keep in touch.

 

Good Heavens . . . . .

church at beach

 

Today seems like a good day to post a picture of a church.  This is St. Augustine, on the beach at Waikiki.  Well, actually, it is across the street from the beach, but it’s right there in the midst of beautiful scenery and tourists.  Across the street (to your right) is the Marriott Hotel, and the street that runs between the two goes straight back to my house, which you see at the very back of the church (because this picture is taken at an angle.)  Just above the last white post on the side of the church you will see my lanai (balcony).

 

Beach to Banyan

My house (seen here to the right of the church)  has 38 floors and I am on the 22nd floor.   And from my lanai  I look down that street and directly at the beach, blue water, white waves . . and then on up to blue sky with white clouds.  I was standing in the ocean when I took this second picture.

Now, from the 22nd floor, looking out from my lanai, this is what I see:

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It was quiet earlier this morning.when this photo was taken.  No foamy waves, no fluffy clouds. No cruise ships,  no surfers.   Now it is coming alive.  A few yachts, some Sunday canoers, and at the skyline a huge white ship approaching the harbor.  The surfers are out of luck today but recently had 10 ft. waves, while across the island on the north shore they had 40 ft. waves.

Though I’m sure you should never look down on a church, you see that I have no choice.  However, from my lanai, where I sit to enjoy either the sun or the moon, perhaps I am looking toward the greater church, after all, while feeling a wonderful peace in my inner church.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Que sera sera . . . . .

Doris Day

I saw this picture online today.  It is Doris Day at 90.  Which means we have the same first name and we were born within months of each other.  And we are both brave, bearing the name Doris . . which cannot be found on any list of popular names.  Still, there have been others we remember, such as Doris Duke (who was wealthy).

Do you remember Doris Day?  She was a big band singer, an actress, then an animal rights activist.  I best remember the movies she made with Rock Hudson.  She was cute, bright, charming.  Her voice was full of music even when she wasn’t singing, but when she sang it was beautiful.  I can hear her singing que sera sera, whatever will be will be.

And, you know, that song in her voice does come to me sometimes when I most need to hear it.  There are times I’ve been in a situation I would like to change but can’t and I finally have to say que sera sera and forget it.

At such a time, I might say I am having a Doris Day Day or, more sinply, just a Doris Day.  It is something I need more of.

 

Well, isn’t this “special”. . . . . . .

Tom as church lady

How I wish we could have had cell phones and ipads through all the years of my life.  In fact, in most of the years when my children were small I didn’t even have a camera.  Now parents can capture every precious moment, store and share the photos everywhere.

Eventually, of course I did get a camera, and I have boxes of pictures I am now sorting out to deal with.  But those early years of my marriage and my parenthood are private . . still safely stored in my memory.  I can pull them up and re-live precious moments at any time, something I do a lot of in these later years.

In fact, every member of the family has his own private memory collection, and they are all quite different.  Even mind photos of the same event differ, because we snap the mental image in the moment that is real to us and to our own interpretation.  Even if we had the actual photo we might all interpret it differently.  Sometimes we do this, at family reunions or, especially, after someone’s funeral.

This photo was taken with a 35mm camera, which made fine clear snapshots that still look good on photo paper but don’t fare well on computer screens.  So this picture appears a bit fuzzy, but it’s one of my favorites.

I’ve forgotten the exact details, but here I am a number of years ago with daughter Sara and son Tom, who apparently showed up at a family gathering as a well-known TV personality.  Can you guess who that is?