 MY 2023 COMMENCEMENT SPEECH The end of May is upon us, the planet has - in the parlance of that renowned wordsmith Richard Rodgers - somersaulted another circle 'round the sun, and now another class of graduates is donning caps and gowns to attend commencement ceremonies,  ...where they'll receive their well-earned diplomas and hear speeches by persons of great accomplishment and/or celebrity who will hopefully impart to them some words of worldly wisdom and advice to help them on their way. And though I can't claim any great accomplishment or celebrity, still I'll venture, as I do this time every year, to offer the class of 2023 a few words of hopefully helpful wisdom and advice of my own on subjects that might not be covered by the keynote speakers at their commencement ceremonies. So, for all the new grads our there, here it is, my 2023 Commencement Speech: 1. Try oven-roasting corn on the cob.  Not only does this make for delicious, appealing corn on the cob, but you can generally cook more ears at once by roasting them on a couple of pans in the oven than by boiling them in a pot on the the stovetop. Plus, they come out of the oven already buttered, salted, and ready to nosh. Here's the method: Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Husk the corn. Line a pan with aluminum foil. Coat the aluminum foil with cooking spray Brush each ear of corn with melted or softened butter (or margarine) and salt to taste. Place the corn on the pan and roast for 20 minutes. Enjoy! 2. When someone says "Thank you" to you, respond with "You're welcome." Or you could also say, "Pleasure's mine." Or "Glad to." Even "No problem" is okay, as are any number of other gracious responses:  But do not respond to "Thank you" with "Yeah," or "Yep," or "Uh-huh," or any other ungracious response that suggests that you gave what you gave or did what you did with a dollop, large or small, of annoyance or resentment. In fact, even if you did feel annoyance or resentment in having to give or do what you gave or did, make the Herculean effort to respond politely to any sincerely offered "Thank you." (Even if - especially if - it's from a relative). 3. Keep in mind this poem by Emily Dickenson: You cannot put a fire out - a thing that can ignite, Can go itself without a fan upon the slowest night You cannot fold a flood and put it in your drawer Because the winds would find it out and tell your cedar floor.  4. Don't look for the perfect job. Just doing something is always better than doing nothing. 5. Stop and think before you say something mean or harsh or snarky to another person. You may not realize how hurtful or offensive your words might be. And though you may forget or toss off what you once said to another person, that person may never forget what you said to them or the sting of your words.  6. Try a PfitB and Fruit Sandwich  For a delicious, lower - waay lower! - calorie substitute for a PB&J sandwich, try PfitB or PB2 peanut butter powder (reconstituted with water),  ...drizzled over fresh berries on bread and eaten sandwich-style. You save so many calories that you can even, as I do, sprinkle the "peanut butter" and berries with a little sugar and cinnamon. It is unimaginably delicious! You'll never go back to peanut butter and jelly!  7. If you accidentally say or do something wrong, just do that best you can to make it as right as you can, because that's all you can do. Half of life is conducting mop-up operations  8. Whenever you have company in your home make sure that your bathroom is sufficiently stocked with toilet paper. There's nothing worse than using someone's commode then realizing there's no TP on the roll.  9. Be wary of persuading, badgering, or bribing people to do something they don't want to do. Even if they reluctantly agree to do it, chances are the result will not turn out as you wanted it to. 10. Conversely, If you agree to do something, do it with a good attitude. Something that's done with a bad attitude tends not to turn out well. 11. Learn to stifle the tendency to give advice. Just because someone shares a problem with you it doesn't mean they're asking you for advice. Usually they're not.  12. If you read a book that you really enjoy, whether it's by a great, famous author,  ...or by a humble unknown,  ...leave the book that you loved a five-star review somewhere online: Amazon, Goodreads, Barnes & Noble, or Bookbub; or better yet, if you really love the book (or the author), all of the above. Brief is fine - Just a few positive words are more helpful to and appreciated by an author than you can imagine (Especially if the author is a humble unknown). 13. I know it's been said before, but it's worth saying again: tomorrow is another day. Look past the rough times to better, brighter days ahead. They will come. I promise.  Best wishes, 2023 graduates! Go out and conquer the world! 
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IN SEARCH OF HISTORIC HONOLULU, PART 3
...Continued from previous post:
The following day, Tuesday, after our morning walk along the beach,
The following day, Tuesday, after our morning walk along the beach,
...Tom and I again took the city bus from Waikiki to King Street in downtown Honolulu.
We planned to visit the 'Iolani Place, royal residence of the rulers of Hawaii (see post from 5/12/2023, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/in-search-of-historic-honolulu-part-1).
But first we stopped by the Ali'iolani Hale, the beautiful building across the street from the 'Iolani Palace, which is the home of the Hawaii State Supreme Court,
...to look at the famous statue of King Kamehameha the Great, conqueror and uniter of the Hawaiian islands into the Kingdom of Hawaii.
Then we crossed King Street and entered the grounds of the 'Iolani Palace.
Though I can't exactly say why, for some reason the 'Iolani Palace made me think of the Ohio State House in Columbus.
Or maybe it was more because this view to the left of the Palace,
...reminded me of the view to the left of the Statehouse. Minus the palm trees. (Question for any Columbus folks who might be reading this: Does the above view from the 'Iolani Palace lawn remind you of the Broad Street view from the Statehouse lawn? Or is it just me??)
Anyway, one had the option of visiting the 'Iolani Palace with a guided tour for $20 or visiting the basement of the Palace on one's own and seeing the exhibits there for $5. We opted for the $5 basement tour.
It was actually quite a good tour.
Anyway, one had the option of visiting the 'Iolani Palace with a guided tour for $20 or visiting the basement of the Palace on one's own and seeing the exhibits there for $5. We opted for the $5 basement tour.
It was actually quite a good tour.
We saw the Palace kitchen,
...the state-of-the-art for the time bathroom stalls (or "water closets) that one of the monarchs had installed,
...and this pleasant room, which looked like a study or maybe a reading room (or a ukulele practicing room).
There was also a good historical exhibit of photographs, pictures and some artifacts.
After we finished touring the 'Iolani Palace basement we decided to return to to Chinatown,
...where we had lunch at Pho Vietnam.
We had bahn mi, delicious vegetable sandwiches on a hard roll.
The following day, Wednesday, we were once again on the number 20 bus to downtown Honolulu.
This time our destination was the early 19th century houses built by the first missionaries to Honolulu. But first we stopped by the historic Kawaiaha'o Church.
On either side of the altar there were the traditional feather standards of the Hawaiian ali'i, or chiefs.
We then walked over to the site of the missionary houses.
Here can be found the oldest existing house in Hawaii.
After looking at the missionary houses we once again felt like walking to Chinatown,
...where we visted some of the markets.
We stopped for lunch at a spot called Pho 97.
We ordered duck pho. It wasn't very good. Or very appetizing. Mine had a chunk of something brown in it. It might have been duck liver. I didn't want to find out.
Still, there were several other diners in the restaurant who seemed to be enjoying their pho. So maybe to each their own pho.
After lunch we caught our bus,
After lunch we caught our bus,
...back to Waikiki.
That evening we walked into downtown Waikiki.
We went to the Halekulani hotel on Lewers Street,
...where there is nightly Hawaiian music with hula dancing.
It was wonderful.
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IN SEARCH OF HISTORIC HONOLULU, PART 2
...Continued from yesterday:
A little while later that morning, Monday morning, while wandering the streets of Chinatown, trying to imagine these streets as they might have been a hundred years ago, Tom and I came upon an unassuming, storefront,
A little while later that morning, Monday morning, while wandering the streets of Chinatown, trying to imagine these streets as they might have been a hundred years ago, Tom and I came upon an unassuming, storefront,
...with this sign attached to the door identifying it as the Hawaiian Heritage Center.
We spent a moment discussing whether we should go inside. I was a weence reluctant based on the, shall we say, well-aged appearance of the structure. Tom, however, was more amenable to checking the place out.
"You're looking for historical places, right?" He said. "This place looks pretty historical."
So we entered the Hawaiian Heritage Center, and were soon convinced that we had discovered a hidden - or maybe not so hidden - gem of Chinatown.
Upon our entrance we were greeted by the two friendly Heritage Center staff members who, after accepting our $1 entrance fee, were happy to show us around and answer our questions.
"You're looking for historical places, right?" He said. "This place looks pretty historical."
So we entered the Hawaiian Heritage Center, and were soon convinced that we had discovered a hidden - or maybe not so hidden - gem of Chinatown.
Upon our entrance we were greeted by the two friendly Heritage Center staff members who, after accepting our $1 entrance fee, were happy to show us around and answer our questions.
The little museum was full of artifacts, most donated over the decades by Hawaiian families or individuals of Chinese descent.
There were, however, other nationalities represented, as well.
When one of the staffers saw me snapping pictures he asked if I'd like him to take a picture of me, to which I replied, "Sure."
He also kindly offered Tom and I bottles of cold water, which we gratefully accepted after having tramped around town all morning in the Honolulu heat. I did insist on paying him for the water, though, as I figured they could use the donation.
After we'd finished seeing the Hawaiian Heritage Center we were ready for lunch. I wanted to check out a restaurant that Theresa and Mayren had discovered on their foray into Chinatown ( see post from 4/24/2023, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/chinatown-cheese-corn-ice-cream-and-other-honolulu-delights).
It was a Thai/Lao place called Olay's and located on nearby Hotel Street.
Just as my daughter had described, Olay's looked fairly ordinary from the outside,
After we'd finished seeing the Hawaiian Heritage Center we were ready for lunch. I wanted to check out a restaurant that Theresa and Mayren had discovered on their foray into Chinatown ( see post from 4/24/2023, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/chinatown-cheese-corn-ice-cream-and-other-honolulu-delights).
It was a Thai/Lao place called Olay's and located on nearby Hotel Street.
Just as my daughter had described, Olay's looked fairly ordinary from the outside,
...but the interior was oh, so cute,
...and opened up into a lovely garden.
I had a delicious pad thai,
...while Tom had a seafood dish.
After lunch we walked around for a bit longer,
...then we headed for the bus stop,
...where we caught the bus back to Waikiki where, later that night, we caught the most beautiful golden sunset.
"Tropical Depression" By Patti Liszkay
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"Tropical Depression by Patti Liszkay is a powerful and emotionally charged novel."
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"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
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- Sublime Book Review
"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
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IN SEARCH OF HISTORIC HONOLULU, PART 1
...Continued from previous post:
Among my favorite of all favorite books in the world is the novel "Hawaii," James Michener's historical mega-saga of the Hawaiian islands. I've read all 1,036 pages three times, to which my well-worn copy will attest.
Among my favorite of all favorite books in the world is the novel "Hawaii," James Michener's historical mega-saga of the Hawaiian islands. I've read all 1,036 pages three times, to which my well-worn copy will attest.
Along with my desire to pursue some culture during my recent visit to Hawaii (see previous post: https://www.ailantha.com/blog/i-ukulelist), I also had the desire to visit the oldest streets and sites in Honolulu as described in Michener's book, where the commercial development of the island began in the 19th century, mostly by the children of the American missionaries and other American entrepreneurs who helped themselves to the land of the Hawaiians, made their fortunes, and began turning Honolulu into the island metropolis it would become.
I wanted to visit Chinatown, where the industrious Chinese immigrants lived on the edge of haole - or white - society, but from where many rose to run successful businesses, as well.
I wanted to visit the site where the original missionaries built their houses, as well as the 'Iolani Palace, the royal residence of the rulers of Hawaii until 1893, when a group of influential American-descendant sugar and pineapple growers enlisted the help of the U.S. Marines to overthrow Hawaiian Queen Liliʻuokalani,
I wanted to visit Chinatown, where the industrious Chinese immigrants lived on the edge of haole - or white - society, but from where many rose to run successful businesses, as well.
I wanted to visit the site where the original missionaries built their houses, as well as the 'Iolani Palace, the royal residence of the rulers of Hawaii until 1893, when a group of influential American-descendant sugar and pineapple growers enlisted the help of the U.S. Marines to overthrow Hawaiian Queen Liliʻuokalani,
...so that Hawaii could become an American territory.
I wanted to go to all those places.
Now, it isn't as if I hadn't been to downtown Honolulu before or been to Chinatown or visited the site of the missionary houses on previous visits to the island. But this time I wanted to walk among these places and see them through the lens of Honolulu's history as told in James Michener's tale.
And so Monday morning, after an early walk through the Hale Koa Botanical Garden,
I wanted to go to all those places.
Now, it isn't as if I hadn't been to downtown Honolulu before or been to Chinatown or visited the site of the missionary houses on previous visits to the island. But this time I wanted to walk among these places and see them through the lens of Honolulu's history as told in James Michener's tale.
And so Monday morning, after an early walk through the Hale Koa Botanical Garden,
...and along Waikiki beach,
...Tom and I headed towards town to the bus stop,
...from where we caught the number 20 bus for $1.25 - senior rate - to downtown Honolulu.
We alit at the corner of King and Punchbowl Streets,
...Punchbowl Street being named after the ancient volcanic crater located there which is now home to Punchbowl National Cemetery.
However we walked in the other direction, down King Street to the 'Iolani Palace, which, we learned, was closed on Mondays.
So we continued down King until we came to Fort Street, the oldest street in Honolulu and the first paved street, where the first banks and powerful 19th century American business enterprises were established and where much of the drama in Michener's story unfolds.
We found that today Fort Street is a pleasant pedestrian mall,
We found that today Fort Street is a pleasant pedestrian mall,
...where one can still nonetheless find a vintage building or two.
We then made our way to Beretania Street,
...where the wealthy haole bankers and businessmen had their fine homes, and from where we could see hills to which, according to Michener, the residents of Chinatown fled in 1900,
...when Chinatown was burned down by he Honolulu health department after an outbreak of Bubonic Plague, carried into Chinatown in a shipment of rice from a freighter that had been carrying rats.
We continued down Beretania Street until it took us into Chinatown.
(where, several blocks in we would be able to see the port from where the Plague entered Chinatown).
We strolled around the streets,
...and though I knew that Chinatown in 2023 looked nothing like James Michener's Chinatown from 123 years ago - in truth, none of the oldest streets in Honolulu that we walked along that day were anything like the streets from the era of Michener's novel - still, I now had a geographic sense of these locations, which I know I'll find helpful now that I'm on my fourth reading of "Hawaii."
To be continued...
"Tropical Depression" by Patti Liszkay
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"Tropical Depression by Patti Liszkay is a powerful and emotionally charged novel."
- Sublime Book Review
"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
For more reviews of "Tropical Depression" go to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/86517578-tropical-depression#CommunityReviews
- Sublime Book Review
"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
For more reviews of "Tropical Depression" go to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/86517578-tropical-depression#CommunityReviews
I, UKULELIST
...Continued from yesterday:
If a piano player is a pianist, a guitar player a guitarist, a saxophone player a saxophonist, etc., does it follow linguistically that a ukulele player is a ukulelist? I suppose the question of whether a ukulele player is a ukulelist is as discussion-worthy as the question of why I wanted to become one.
My journey to becoming a ukulelist (if it wasn't a word before I'm officially christening it) began sometime last year when we were planning this year's trip to Hawaii. After having visited the Hawaiian islands several times previously, I felt a yearning this time to immerse myself in the Hawaiian culture beyond what one can absorb as a one-week tourist. Which would be a challenge, considering that I was going to be a one-week tourist. Well, two-week tourist, actually, but as the first of those weeks I'd be spending with my visiting children and grandchildren, that left only the second week open to cultural pursuits; provided. of course, that my mate Tom was not adverse to being abandoned while I pursued culture.
"Nah, I don't mind," said Tom, ever the good sport. "I'll find something to do while you're pursuing the culture."
If a piano player is a pianist, a guitar player a guitarist, a saxophone player a saxophonist, etc., does it follow linguistically that a ukulele player is a ukulelist? I suppose the question of whether a ukulele player is a ukulelist is as discussion-worthy as the question of why I wanted to become one.
My journey to becoming a ukulelist (if it wasn't a word before I'm officially christening it) began sometime last year when we were planning this year's trip to Hawaii. After having visited the Hawaiian islands several times previously, I felt a yearning this time to immerse myself in the Hawaiian culture beyond what one can absorb as a one-week tourist. Which would be a challenge, considering that I was going to be a one-week tourist. Well, two-week tourist, actually, but as the first of those weeks I'd be spending with my visiting children and grandchildren, that left only the second week open to cultural pursuits; provided. of course, that my mate Tom was not adverse to being abandoned while I pursued culture.
"Nah, I don't mind," said Tom, ever the good sport. "I'll find something to do while you're pursuing the culture."
Being a linguaphile, and language being one of the primary means of expressing culture, my first idea was to learn Hawaiian. Or as much Hawaiian as one could learn in a week. I was thinking about something along the lines of the immersive Spanish language school I attended for a week in León, Nicaragua, where I spent three hours a day one-on-one with my wonderful teacher, Zorayda, while she immersed me in Spanish language and Nicaraguan culture.
My teacher, Zorayda, in our classroom in León. (Sadly, I didn't realize when I snapped this picture what a bad spot I'd picked for lighting).
My teacher, Zorayda, in our classroom in León. (Sadly, I didn't realize when I snapped this picture what a bad spot I'd picked for lighting).
Alas, in my internet search I didn't come across any immersive Hawaiian classes in Honolulu. Immersive English classes, yes, immersive Hawaiian classes, no.
But then, the more I thought about it, the less sense it made to take a week of immersive Hawaiian, anyway. Once I left the island and returned to Columbus, Ohio, when would I have a chance to practice my Hawaiian with another human?
Then I came up with the idea of learning ukulele, the instrument of the Hawaiian islands. I figured that if I could find a teacher in Honolulu who would be willing to jump-start me with a lesson every day for a week, then mayhaps I could figure the rest out for myself or with the help of the internet and practice on my own.
I found online the names of a few music schools in Honolulu that taught ukulele. But that was as far as I got. I guess I just didn't know where or how to start trying to arrange what I had in mind.
Anyway, I put the idea of immersive Hawaiian lessons, immersive ukulele lessons, or immersive anything on the back burner.
But then after we arrived in Honolulu, every time we we walked into downtown Waikiki we'd pass by the Kamehameha Ukulele store.
But then, the more I thought about it, the less sense it made to take a week of immersive Hawaiian, anyway. Once I left the island and returned to Columbus, Ohio, when would I have a chance to practice my Hawaiian with another human?
Then I came up with the idea of learning ukulele, the instrument of the Hawaiian islands. I figured that if I could find a teacher in Honolulu who would be willing to jump-start me with a lesson every day for a week, then mayhaps I could figure the rest out for myself or with the help of the internet and practice on my own.
I found online the names of a few music schools in Honolulu that taught ukulele. But that was as far as I got. I guess I just didn't know where or how to start trying to arrange what I had in mind.
Anyway, I put the idea of immersive Hawaiian lessons, immersive ukulele lessons, or immersive anything on the back burner.
But then after we arrived in Honolulu, every time we we walked into downtown Waikiki we'd pass by the Kamehameha Ukulele store.
And every time we passed the store I'd think about taking ukulele lessons and wonder if there was someone at that store who might be able and willing give me a few.
Finally, after a a week of wondering, I decided to go to the Kamehameha Ukulele store and ask, long shot though I knew it to be.
And so on Easter Sunday evening (see previous post) Tom and I walked the several blocks from the Hale Koa to the Kamehameha Ukulele. Inside the store was a young sales clerk plucking away on one of the ukuleles for a customer. I listened to him play for a few moments and thought, that kid knows how to play the ukulele.
I waited until the sales clerk had finished with his previous customer, then I approached him and told him what I was seeking. I learned that his name was Ron, that he was a college student studying language education, that Kamehameha Ukulele was his evening job, that he'd taught some ukulele, and that - glory hallelujah! - he'd be willing to give me an immersive ukulele lesson every day starting the following day, Monday through Friday, for the next week.
Ron, my ukulele teacher, at Kamehameha Ukulele.
Finally, after a a week of wondering, I decided to go to the Kamehameha Ukulele store and ask, long shot though I knew it to be.
And so on Easter Sunday evening (see previous post) Tom and I walked the several blocks from the Hale Koa to the Kamehameha Ukulele. Inside the store was a young sales clerk plucking away on one of the ukuleles for a customer. I listened to him play for a few moments and thought, that kid knows how to play the ukulele.
I waited until the sales clerk had finished with his previous customer, then I approached him and told him what I was seeking. I learned that his name was Ron, that he was a college student studying language education, that Kamehameha Ukulele was his evening job, that he'd taught some ukulele, and that - glory hallelujah! - he'd be willing to give me an immersive ukulele lesson every day starting the following day, Monday through Friday, for the next week.
Ron, my ukulele teacher, at Kamehameha Ukulele.
We arranged that I would meet Ron every day at 4 pm outside of the Kamehameha for a 45-minute lesson before his shift at the store began at 5 pm.
Ron turned out to be a top-notch teacher. The first day he taught me the basics, how to hold the instrument, how to strum and pluck, finger numbers, string names, some scale work, etc. He gave me a chord sheet and taught me how to strum my first song, "Happy Birthday to You."
He had brought an extra ukulele for me to use and offered to let me take it with me back to my hotel to practice on. I turned down Ron's generous offer but told him that I'd seen ukuleles for sale at the ABC store, that ubiquitous chain of everything-you-need-and-don't-need stores that one finds on every block in Honolulu.
Ron turned out to be a top-notch teacher. The first day he taught me the basics, how to hold the instrument, how to strum and pluck, finger numbers, string names, some scale work, etc. He gave me a chord sheet and taught me how to strum my first song, "Happy Birthday to You."
He had brought an extra ukulele for me to use and offered to let me take it with me back to my hotel to practice on. I turned down Ron's generous offer but told him that I'd seen ukuleles for sale at the ABC store, that ubiquitous chain of everything-you-need-and-don't-need stores that one finds on every block in Honolulu.
"Buy the fifty-dollar one," Ron advised me. So I did.
Each day for five days Ron immersed me for forty-five minutes in beginner ukulele technique,
Each day for five days Ron immersed me for forty-five minutes in beginner ukulele technique,
...and every night I went back to my hotel room and practiced.
Starting ukulele was hard. Harder than I thought it was going to be. And I feel a bit sheepish saying that, being a piano teacher and knowing how much effort and work goes into learning an instrument, and all the years of faithful practice that are required to become proficient. Still, it was hard, trying to scrunch my hands onto that small neck and figure out where the notes and chords were, musical units that are laid out so clearly on a keyboard.
But now I was the student, the beginner, struggling to build new muscle patterns in my hands and forge new neural pathways in my brain so that my hands and brain might eventually sync and create something that might be called music on this little four-stringed box.
Towards the end of the week I decided that, challenging as it was, I was going to keep learning and practicing and becoming a ukulelist, and I wanted to do it on a better instrument than my $50 ABC Store model. I had Ron pick out one from the Kamehameha inventory that would be a good size and fit for me.
My Kamehameha ukulele:
"Now return your old one to the ABC Store," Ron advised me.
"You think they'll take it back after I already played it for days?"
"Sure," said Ron. "They'll take anything back."
And so I took my old new ukulele back to the ABC Store. They took it back.
Epilogue:
Since my return home from Honolulu I've been practicing every day, usually 20 minutes twice a day.
"You think they'll take it back after I already played it for days?"
"Sure," said Ron. "They'll take anything back."
And so I took my old new ukulele back to the ABC Store. They took it back.
Epilogue:
Since my return home from Honolulu I've been practicing every day, usually 20 minutes twice a day.
My teacher said not to practice more than twenty minutes at a time, as I might otherwise hurt my hand. So I try to listen to my teacher and keep my practices at twenty minutes. But sometimes I can't resist throwing a few more minutes on, even if I pay with aching fingers. And sometimes I pick up my ukulele throughout the day and practice strumming or plucking for a few minutes. Just because, though I'm not even any good yet, somehow playing my ukulele cheers me up, makes me forget my troubles and get happy.
Anyway, after a month of practicing, here's what I've conquered. Baby steps.
Anyway, after a month of practicing, here's what I've conquered. Baby steps.
"TROPICAL DEPRESSION" BY PATTI LISZKAY
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"Tropical Depression by Patti Liszkay is a powerful and emotionally charged novel."
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"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
For more reviews of "Tropical Depression" go to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/86517578-tropical-depression#CommunityReviews
- Sublime Book Review
"Tropical Depression is rich in the intersections of love, conflict, and culture that bring this world to life." - D. Donovan, Midwest Book Review
For more reviews of "Tropical Depression" go to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/86517578-tropical-depression#CommunityReviews
EASTER ON THE BEACH AND OTHER PLACES
...Continued from previous post:
The following morning, Easter Sunday, we arrived at the Koko for breakfast to find the place almost empty.
The following morning, Easter Sunday, we arrived at the Koko for breakfast to find the place almost empty.
"People are down at the beach for Easter services," our friendly server informed us. "Afterwards they'll come crowding in here. It's good you came early."
As would be the case on most mornings after our children and grandchildren left, Tom and I were given a lovely table for two on the terrace overlooking the beach. ("Aw, your family left you?" said our server sympathetically that first morning. "Here, then, come sit out on the terrace.").
As would be the case on most mornings after our children and grandchildren left, Tom and I were given a lovely table for two on the terrace overlooking the beach. ("Aw, your family left you?" said our server sympathetically that first morning. "Here, then, come sit out on the terrace.").
From here we could see the crowd gathered on the beach for Easter service and we could hear the uplifting music.
After breakfast we intended to walk two miles to the nearest Catholic church, St. Augustine by the Sea in Waikiki, for mass. We decided to first go for a walk through the botanical garden,
...then down to the beach,
...where we caught sight of a rainbow,
...and where the early service had just ended and the second service would soon begin.
We then decided to walk to downtown Waikiki partly by way of the beach and partly by city streets.
We walked up Kalakaua Avenue, the main thoroughfare through downtown Waikiki, that was already crowded on this Easter Sunday morning.
Kalakaua Avenue runs parallel to the beach,
...and by Honolulu's luxury hotels and shops.
In other words, rather like 5th Avenue with a beachfront.
St. Augustine's by the Sea is a majestic church just off Kalakaua Avenue,
St. Augustine's by the Sea is a majestic church just off Kalakaua Avenue,
...with beautiful stained glass windows.
On either side of the altar are kāhili, the symbols from ancient times of the aliʻi, or chiefs of the Hawaiian islands.
After mass we strolled along Kalakaua Avenue,
...until lunch time.
We then walked back to the Royal Hawaiian Center,
We then walked back to the Royal Hawaiian Center,
...and took the escalator to the second floor food court when we'd had such great burgers the night before (see previous post, https://www.ailantha.com/blog/the-consolation-of-the-mahaloha-burger).
This time, however, we decided to try the Poke Waikiki,
...from where we each ordered a poke bowl, which - "poke" being Hawaiian for "slice or cut" - is a bowl of raw fish chunks over rice and and a choice of vegetables.
Our choice of poke bowl, which was very good.
After our poke bowls we swung by the Kulu Kulu Honolulu again (see previous post) for some dessert.
This time Tom had the double cream puff,
This time Tom had the double cream puff,
...while I decided to go for an out-of-this world caramel macadamia nut ice cream cone.
Later that afternoon we took another walk into town,
We returned just in time to see the sunset on the beach.
We then headed to Happy's for their Easter dinner special, prime rib on a Styrofoam plate.
"Want to do anything else?" Tom asked me after dinner.
"Yeah," said I. "I'd like to go back into town."
"What for?" said Tom.
"I want to go to the ukulele store."
"Yeah," said I. "I'd like to go back into town."
"What for?" said Tom.
"I want to go to the ukulele store."
To be continued...
"Tropical Depression"
by Patti Liszkay
Buy it on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTPN7NYY
by Patti Liszkay
Buy it on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTPN7NYY
"Equal And Opposite Reactions"
by Patti Liszkay
Buy it on Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa
or from
The Book Loft
of German Village,
Columbus, Ohio
by Patti Liszkay
Buy it on Amazon:
http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa
or from
The Book Loft
of German Village,
Columbus, Ohio
Or check it out at the Columbus Metropolitan Library
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I am a traveler just visiting this planet and reporting various and sundry observations,
hopefully of interest to my fellow travelers.
hopefully of interest to my fellow travelers.
